#I’ve been playing In Stars and Time and Enjoying it a lot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bowsnchoso · 3 months

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Interrupted – Gojo Satoru

➺ synopsis: you and your husband, Gojo, were spending some time together until he got an urgent call for work. will he make it up to you once he arrives back home?

➺ character: Gojo Satoru

➺ word count: 6.9k

➺ cw: married couple, femreader, sweet pet names (cause Gojo is soso cutie) lots and lots of teasing (like always) fluffy, so much loving, shower scene, nipple play breeding, smut, nsfw, aftercare crumbs, did i mention lots of loving? (there's lots!) ^^

➺ note: i can't get enough of my blue-eyed king so here's another little post about him, enjoy!

It was times like these that you relished the most. Your fingers tangled up in his silky white hair, his blue eyes that mimicked the crashing waves of a blue ocean, rolling over your body, drinking you whole.

Your husband, Satoru, marveling at your body, seeing right through your soul. His hands caressed the innate curves of your tempered body, having your figure well memorized under his avaricious and gentle touch, yet he still couldn’t seem to get enough of you. No matter how many times he held you close, no matter how many times he had you wrapped in his arms, snuggled in his chest. No matter how many times he inhaled your intoxicating scent, the inebriated state it left him in never seemed to ebb.

He purred against your intricate touch like a loving kitten would, his hand stroking your waist as you toyed with his hair, brushing the stray tufts behind his ear. His eyelids were heavy, carrying the weight of his equilibrium, but the lubricious gaze in his cerulean eyes remained as vibrant as ever, glistening as the stars would under a new moon.

You two lay side by side, simply gazing at your husband as you two engaged in conversation with one another, sometimes getting sidetracked by your infatuation for one another.

He grabbed your hand that stroked at his hair, and he began kissing each of your knuckles, peppering his soft lips above your skin, tracing them over your hands, drinking you up, as he typically did.

“I miss spending this kind of time with you, Toru.” You whispered, watching the way he kissed at your limb.

He hummed, and the vibrations of his gruff voice ricocheted throughout your body, sending waves of a tempestuous storm in your raging heart, adorned in his love and touch.

“I miss it too,” his voice was like honey against your skin, sweet and smooth, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work, I need to pay more attention to my gorgeous wife, don’t I?” He teased you, reeling you into his figure, gently pelting your face and jaw with kisses.

You couldn’t help but giggle, flustered by his immense attention. “You pay attention to me, it’s just I want more moments like these.” You expressed, accepting his kisses and attention despite how flushed they made you. “I know you get busy, especially with missions, I know how important they are.”

He trailed his lips down your arm now, simply attacking you with his incessant love. “I bet you didn’t think marrying me would also mean you have to deal with my work, right?” He said, now caressing his cheek against the soft skin on your arm.

You watched him, blushing. “When we were boyfriend and girlfriend I was already aware of how busy you were. I figured that getting married wouldn’t push back any responsibilities you have… but that doesn’t mean I regret marrying you, I love calling you my husband.”

He smiled lovingly, staring into your eyes with his blinding blue irises. “You remember our wedding day?”

You chuckled. “How could I forget the day we got married, Satoru?”

It was a very intimate wedding, and considering Gojo had no family, not very many people were invited besides close friends and your family– the very few people that both you and Gojo handpicked by yourselves, sending out your invitations together.

It was a day you would never allow yourself to forget, or grow cavalier to. You stored that sweet memory deep in your soul, it was etched in your heart, locked away for safekeeping, only to be opened upon recollection.

Satoru fell into a pool of sweet memories, appreciating you with his eyes and hands. “It was the best day of my life. I don’t think you understand how happy I am to call you my wife.” He carefully adjusted himself, hovering above you.

You lay flat beneath him, your hands intrinsically reaching up to his nape, massaging his broad shoulders under your delicate fingers, your foot rubbing against his bare leg, tangled up in each other.

He smiled at your affection, leaning down to kiss at your jawline again. “What did you love most about that day?” Satoru questioned as he continued to leave a trail of kisses down your neck.

You hummed, closing your eyes as he focused his attention all on you and your body. “What I loved most about our wedding?” You reflected, to which he murmured in response, still kissing your neck with sweet sounds that parroted off the walls. “Hm, when I said I do~” You tease, kissing his cheek.

He chuckled, and his cheeks slightly reddened before he composed himself adeptly. “Wanna know my favoirte part of the wedding?”

You nodded.

“When we cut the cake together.” He shared with a blissful smile.

You laughed at his revelation. “Of course, you picked the cake out yourself, and you’re a fiend for sweets.”

“Well, yes,” he mumbled, stroking your long hair behind your ear, “but, that’s not why it was my favorite part. It was my favorite because I couldn’t help but just smile at you. Your cute hand over mine as we cut into the cake, it hit me then that I realized we were going to be together for the rest of our lives.”

You recalled that moment perfectly. “That moment was caught on camera, I remember that.” You grinned, remembering the photo of you and your husband cutting into the cake.

While your eyes were focused on the camera, smiling big, your husband had his sights set on you with an ebullient smile tugging on his lips, his beautiful blue eyes washed in adoration.

He kissed your neck once more. “Well, that’s my favorite moment. Besides the night we spent together after~” He winked, teasing you.

You laughed, blushing red at the thought of your wedding night.

He began to trace his lips over your collarbone, slow and sensual against your skin, prompting chills throughout your body. “Wanna recreate that night together, sweetheart?” Satoru entreated, his voice silky smooth.

You blushed. “N-now?” You whispered.

He chuckled. “Yeah. Now.” His hand caressed your side. “Is my little wife nervous?” Satoru teased you with a playful smirk tugging on his lips.

“Yes.” You blatantly reveal, to which he laughed at.

He kissed your forehead. “You’re so easily riled up, huh? Still getting nervous for your husband, hm?”

You had been together for seven years, married for two, and you still got so apprehensive at the thought of sharing intimate moments with Satoru. Which, he adored. To him, it meant that your love for him was humming as chirping birds, still burgeoning and festering just like how it once was when you two first began dating.

You closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips and tongue against your jawline, knowing exactly what to do to get your body warm, his hands trailing your curves, ravenous for more of you.

His hunger for you was insatiable, years could go by, and he would still thirst for your love.

You hummed in pleasure when he nipped at your skin.

“You like when I do that, don’t you, my love?” His voice was but a mere susurration that whisked against your hot flesh.

You nodded, tracing your arms over his biceps, grabbing onto his muscles.

He smirked, reaching up to your ear to kiss your lobe. “I love watching you melt under me, you’re so gorgeous, my wife.” He whispered in your ear, making you blush.

“Satoru.” You mumbled his name as though it were the call of a siren, completely addicted to your husband and the sweet words he never seemed to run out of.

It drove you insane.

“I’m here my love,” He chuckled, nipping at your earlobe. “I’m here.”

“Kiss me, Satoru.” You whispered, almost inaudibly, but he heard you loud and clear.

He didn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours like a strong magnet. It was slow and deliberate, the kinds of kisses you two loved to have, the ones you loved to have with your husband. The sweet sound your touching lips would make, resonating throughout your effervescent chest, making your heart tremble, beating in unison with Satoru’s.

You continued to trace your foot down his leg, while his hand traced down your hip, holding and kissing you as though it were the last time he would ever hold you and touch you again.

You buried your fingers in his white hair, feeling him melt into your hand, aware of just how weak he became whenever you touched his silky locks.

He pressed his tongue against your lower lip, wishing for more access, and you allowed him in, meeting as one, tangling together. Satoru licked at you, humming and moaning to himself, unable to get enough of you.

That’s when you heard the sound of buzzing.

You pressed your eyebrows together in difficulty, however, Satoru didn’t seem to notice as he continued to kiss you, his tongue exploring yours with traces of longing and desire, growing more and more hungry for you by the second– utterly impetuous he was.

The buzzing continued, and Satoru seemed to catch onto the sound, releasing your lips.

“Is that my phone?” He asked, wiping the side of his lip free of shared saliva from your wet kiss.

You pressed your lips together. “It’s not mine, I have my ringer on.”

He huffed, stretching his arm over your body to grab his phone from the nightstand.

“Shit,” he mumbled.

“You can answer it, Satoru.” You encouraged, sensing the confliction in his voice, tempted between you, his wife, and taking the call.

“Higher-ups.” He waved his phone, removing himself from your body to sit at his side of the bed, answering the call.

You sat up, planting your back against the headboard behind you, watching your husband as he took care of the unexpected phone call he received from management.

Or, the people he referred to as annoying and old and worthless.

He had ranted a plethora of times about these people to you.

You watched as he stroked at his hair, trying to focus on the phone call.

His expression was taut, focused, nodding every now and then.

“Now?” Satoru questioned, blinking a few times.

You perked up, tilting your head at the urgency that pooled through his voice.

“Right.” He nodded, lifting from the bed.

You felt your heart sink in utter disappointment, your heartbeat decreasing to a slow and deliberate pace.

You knew the moment he picked up these phone calls, he was either going to be on the call for quite a few long minutes, or he would be getting up to leave to tend to unexpected work that called for him.

This time, it seemed he would be tending to work.

You sat crisscrossed on your bed, watching as he began rummaging through your shared closet, keeping his phone in hand, humming periodically to the person on the other end of the phone.

He set out his work clothes above the corner of the bed, along with the blindfold he invariably wore with his uniform.

“Got it, I’ll be there.” He said one last time before he hung up, setting his phone down on the mattress beside his clothes.

He looked at you with a sympathetic glint in his eyes, almost as though it was his fault that he had to work.

“I’m sorry, my love, I know you were just talking about-”

You shook your head. “Satoru, don’t worry. It’s fine, I was just being overly clingy.” You lift from your side of the bed, tracing back to him. “Like I said, even before I married you, I was aware of how busy your work keeps you.”

His eyes flickered in admiration for his wife’s ability to respect his work and be so understanding and compliant for something he would be upset over if he were in your shoes.

You reached on the tips of your toes, kissing his lips. “Let’s get you changed?” You offer help.

He nodded eagerly, enjoying things best when you two could partake in the activity together.

You helped him dress, saving the blindfold for the last bits, relishing his blue eyes for as long as you possibly could.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be out,” Satoru informed, zipping up his dark blue uniform, “so I don’t wanna tell you to wait up, I’ll feel bad if you’re waiting all night, sweets.”

You blushed, grabbing his blindfold from the bed. “I’ll try to stay up, not like I sleep knowing you’re out on missions. I worry too much.”

He chuckled. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, wife, I’ll be okay.”

You smiled a small grin, praying that he truly would stay safe. Not that you didn’t have any confidence in Satoru’s strong abilities, but you still worried for his well-being, as his wife, you simply could not turn that switch off no matter how strong and capable he was of taking care of himself and others.

You held up his blindfold. “Ready?” You asked, nudging it toward him.

He leaned over with a teasing smile. “Put it on me.”

You chuckled, shaking your head before carefully stretching the piece of fabric, slipping it over his hair, and carefully placing it over his eyes. His hair naturally spiked upwards as he adjusted it, moving his hair away that got caught in the blindfold.

You smiled, kissing his nose. “Perfect and ready for work.” You muttered, admiring the man who was your loving and hardworking husband.

He grinned, his white canines sharp. “How does your husband look?”

“Sexy.” You teased, placing your hands over his broad chest.

He chuckled, wrapping his hands over your waist before he dramatically tilted you to the side and began pelting you with silly kisses, enunciating the mwah sound as he attacked you.

You gripped onto his shoulders, holding onto him, falling into a pool of laughter at his farcical actions that always had your heart fluttering.

It was those moments that made it hard for you to send him off to work.

You lay awake in bed, waiting on the return of your husband, unable to fall asleep when you were fully aware of the danger he was presumably getting himself into. It was practically torture in its most raw and detrimental form.

You turned in your covers, restless, the drafts from the open windows made you shiver, curling up to gather your warmth, wishing Satoru was there to hold you, and share his neverending series of warmth that you cherished so much.

You sighed, feeling your exhaustion take its toll on you, closing your eyes to sleep away your persistent worrying.

It had only felt like minutes had passed before you felt something caress the small of your back, rubbing and comforting you with slow circles.

Carefully, you opened your eyes, meeting with your husband, Satoru, who sat right at your side, watching you sleep, his hand caressing your body. His blindfold was removed, and slung over the nightstand, but he still donned his dark blue uniform.

He smiled sweetly when he saw you had finally woken up. “Sleepy girl~ I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to admire you.” Satoru hummed, outlining your figure with his hand.

You couldn’t help but smile, all your exhaustion fleeing your body as you got up from bed to embrace him.

He chuckled. “Did my lovely wife miss me?” Satoru asked, embracing you tight against his chest.

You laid your head against his shoulder, inhaling his musky pheromones that always drove you so wild. “I miss you always. I’m happy you’re home again. How was everything?” Something you invariably asked him whenever he got back home from doing anything work-related.

He shrugged. “The same stuff all the time. Exhausting, but I’m here now with my love, so I have no more room for complaining.” Satoru said, kissing the side of your head. “I have to shower though, so I’m gonna have to leave you again for a few more minutes.” He said, bracing himself for your disappointment.

You pulled yourself from his hold, frowning at him. “Can’t you save it for tomorrow morning, love?”

He laughed at your question. “Tomorrow morning? Well, I hardly break a sweat on these missions sometimes, but are you seriously gonna want me to leave the bed tomorrow morning to shower? I doubt that.” Satoru guffawed, teasing your head with his nestling hand, finding your clinginess to be quite adorable.

“Can we shower together?” You prompted, hope glistening in your eyes.

“You wanna shower together, love?” Satoru asked, tilting his head, wearing an amused grin on his soft lips. “You don’t think you can wait at least ten minutes for me to finish?”

“I can… but I just want to help you get clean.” You expressed, partly lying.

Waiting those five long hours for your husband to return from work had been intense, and for some reason, you were missing him a little bit extra that particular night, unable to get enough of him.

He nodded, wearing a charming smile. “Who am I to deny my loving and clingy wife?” He nestled in your cheek, kissing you. “Come, let's go clean up, sweets.” He grabbed onto your hand, leading you into your shared bathroom to clean each other up.

You followed along, your heart fluttering in your chest, unable to conceal your excitement while your husband shut the door behind you two.

Once he turned over, he approached you with his hungry blue eyes, unzipping the blue jacket that was part of his uniform, unveiling a compression shirt that he had been wearing beneath his uniform.

The shirt embraced the swell of his muscular chest magnificently, his large biceps flexing as he pulled the uniform off his arms one by one, keeping his eyes on you in the process, his anticipation was tangible in the thickening air.

He chuckled, reeling you into him. “My eyes are up here you little minx~” Satoru teased you for gawking at his ostentatious muscles, loving your overt desire for his meretricious body.

You placed your hands against his distended chest, gently running them up and down his broad shoulders. “I can’t help it.” You murmured before stretching over to his lips.

He hummed at your sudden kiss, pressing his hands against the small of your back to keep you in place, savoring how your lips felt against his soft ones. Your longing for your husband was palpable as you kissed him, the pace was a bit quicker compared to your shared kisses before he had left for work. You had been waiting hours for him, and taking it slow was something you were way past, longing for him and his kisses.

Satoru didn’t question it, matching your pace, licking at your bottom lip in an attempt to get you to open up for him, wanting to explore you with a more in-depth desire now that he had you to himself with no chance of work ever reaching out to him again for that night.

You released him before giving him that opportunity. “We’re getting sidetracked, Satoru, we should be showering, not kissing.”

He groaned, “We can do both, can’t we?” He huffed, watching as you opened the shower door to switch on the water.

You closed the door, turning to him. “You’ll help me undress?” You asked with a saccharine smile on your lips.

He nodded, eager, practically transporting to you to get the job done, lifting at the hem of your shirt, throwing it over your head. You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, tearing away at his clothes as he did the same to you, taking the time to undress one another before stepping inside the shower together.

You shared a few more kisses with Satoru, allowing your skin to gather up the warm water that pelted your two bodies, softening your tense shoulders, simply basking in the affectionate sentiment your husband brought upon your figure with his attentive hands and lips.

He gently kissed your neck, keeping his hands at your elbows, standing chest-to-chest. The feeling of your hardening nipples against his smooth skin driving damn near insanity as he left open-mouth kisses against your hot flesh, getting quiet hums and moans of pleasure out of your mouth, which only further aroused him more than he already was.

He licked at the sensitive skin beneath your ear, down the side of your neck, earning a shiver from you, squeezing against his biceps as he gave you the attention you had been craving, growing more and more antsy by the minute.

He chuckled against your skin. “You like when I do that huh?” He teased you, licking at your skin once more.

You hummed, nodding your head, unable to reply. The thick fog of the tempered water flustered you tenfold, your brain nebulous and powerless against Satoru’s inebriating touch and kisses.

You then pulled back from his close vicinity, grabbing his shampoo bottle to get back on track. “Want me to wash your hair for you?” You offered.

That smile on his lips never diminished, his eyes sparkling in awe at your question. “You know I’d never say no to that.” He chuckled, watching as you squeezed out a generous amount of shampoo in the palm of your hand.

You rubbed it in slightly to get it foamy before you began to work it through your husband's white and wet hair, massaging his scalp as you lathered him, cherishing his closed eyes, his head leaned over, melting in your simple touch.

You loved the sight of him completely weak to your touch, listening to the way he would purr lovingly all due to your attention.

The way he trusted you– it was something you didn't think you would ever get tired of. You wouldn't. Something you would never see yourself disregarding it. Sure, he was your husband, but knowing he trusted you beyond any sort of words truly brought ineffable pleasure to your fluttering heart.

Once you were done scrubbing his hair, you brought him closer to the shower head, running your fingers through his hair to wash out all the suds. The woodsy smell of his shampoo permeated that shower, mingling in with the steam, savoring the delicious scent that resonated perfectly with Satoru.

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of water. “It’s your turn, right?” He asked, grabbing your shampoo bottle. “Turn around for me, love.” He instructed, opening up your shampoo bottle.

You didn’t protest, following his directions, showing him your long damp hair that clung to your wet back.

He pressed his body closer to yours, shivering slightly when you felt his hardening self against the side of your hip. Blush tainted your cheeks, and you stood in silence as Satoru began to wash your hair, scrubbing and massaging you.

He washed your hair with one hand, while his other hand followed down the arch of your waist, trailing his long fingers over toward your belly button, tracing it with his middle and ring finger.

Your face was hot, imperceptibly opening your neck when you felt his lips kiss at your shoulder blades, assailing you with all the love and affection he had for the night.

His gentle touch brought you to your very own Arcadian, a paradise sufficed with vehement love. One that gently plucked at the chords of your heart, overtly singing a tune that described your bliss and lascivious thrill.

Carefully he moved your head under the showerhead, running his long fingers through your hair.

You nearly felt yourself drifting off in a reverie, closing your eyes, swayed by the warm water that caressed your head and body.

He chuckled, observant of the exhaustion in your heavy eyelids. “Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, baby. We still need to wash our bodies, hm?”

You opened your eyes, smiling at his comment.

You got hold of his loofah, mixing in his musky body wash to clean his body.

You scrubbed at his chest, first, receiving a content sigh from your purring Satoru, responsive to any little touch you planted on his large body.

You giggled. “Feels good?” You whispered, scrubbing at his shoulders and arms.

“So good.” He muttered, watching you work against his body. “I love the way you touch me, sweetheart.”

You laughed once more. “I’m just cleaning you, Satoru, it’s nothing special.”

He shook his head, still watching you clean his body. “No, that’s where you’re wrong, sexy. Every little thing about you is so special.”

You blushed, never quite used to the way your husband would openly flirt with you, and his sweet nicknames that still got your heart racing.

You pressed your chest against his body, reaching over to scrub at his back, wanting another excuse to get closer to him.

He instantly snaked his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him, unable to resist you, staring at your breasts that were smooshed against his stern body.

You directed him under the water, letting all the suds fall off his figure.

He grabbed your loofah off the shower rack next, tending to your cleanliness.

He gently scrubbed your stomach first, squeezing the loofah to get your body extra sudsy, hooking his arm over your hips while scrubbing the rest of your body.

Your legs, your breasts, your thighs, your shoulder blades. He cleaned just about every inch of your body.

“You look so sexy like this, all clean and soapy~” He muttered while cleaning you, loving to tease you.

He turned you over, your back facing him to direct you toward the shower head, rinsing the soap off your body. You laid your back against his chest, allowing the water to rinse the soap off your body while Satoru had his arms wrapped over your figure, keeping one hand over the side of your thigh while the other fondled against your breast, outlining your areola with his long fingers, squeezing your hardened buds between his slim fingers.

You moaned at his dexterous hands, laying your head back against his shoulder, enjoying his efforts and attention to get your body warm and hungry for him again.

His other hand trailed down toward your heat that had been aching for his attention all night, pulsing each time his hands trailed against the skin on your bones.

He toyed with your opening for fun, teasing you, watching the way you melted against his body under the hot water, your chest rising and falling, your nipples hard against his hands as he got himself full off you.

“Satoru,” you muttered under your breath, staring up at him.

He looked down at you with his blue eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What is it love?” He asked before he began circling his fingers against your pulsing clit.

You huffed, biting your lower lip, already so worked up.

“You like when I play with your clit huh?” He enticed you further, running slow circles around you.

You sighed, nodding your head, keeping yourself adhered to his body.

He laughed at your willingness to admit such naughty things to him before he released you. “Why don't we get out of here, huh?” He proposed, turning off the running water.

You disguised your utter disappointment, a tense knot forming in your gut while you continued to pulse, aching for him in ways you had been craving him all day.

The both of you exited the shower, drying yourselves off before leaving that hot bathroom.

Your cheeks were flushed, digging through your drawers to find your clothes for the night before sitting on your side of the bed, preparing to dress yourself.

That was until Satoru towered above you, his towel draped lazily over his torso, that brawny v-line teasing you, glistening under the iridescent moonlight that peeked through your window. The white hairs of his happy trail made your heart twirl in excitement.

“You’re gonna get changed?” Satoru asked, watching you set out your panties and a bra.

You laughed at his silly question, “yes?”

“Why?” Satoru tilted his head, his voice expressing his genuine curiosity. “Then I’ll just have to undress you again when I fuck you.”

Your eyes widened at his crass words, your cheeks tainted in a hot blush once more, flustered.

You kept yourself composed, releasing the strong grip you had on your towel. “When you fuck me?” You parroted, caught off-guard.

He smirked. “I was thinking about you all day, sexy, you think I was just gonna let you brush up against my cock in that shower and get away with it?”

You wore an impish grin, lying back in your bed. “I can’t help that he wants me.” You refer to your husband's dick, carefully opening up your towel, and revealing your naked body to your husband who watched you with parted lips. “Besides, I know you secretly like it when I tease you, cause you’re such a naughty boy.”

Satoru was lost in the artwork that was your body, his hungry blue eyes feasting upon your figure as a famished animal would, his cheeks imperceptibly tinted a bright pink for a quick moment at the name you gave him.

“Naughty boy, huh?” He asked, his hands on the fold that kept his towel together over his waist. “You haven’t seen naughty yet, baby.”

You enjoy the dirty talk, bending your right knee into the air, opening up your legs slightly, and showing yourself off to Satoru who huffed at the sight. “I haven’t? So then… come show me.”

Satoru took that head-on, as a challenge, hovering above you, the towel still wrapped over his waist.

“You’re such a damn tease, you know that?” He muttered, a smirk on his lips as he drank you whole with his blue eyes. “Like I wouldn’t fuck your pussy into next week.”

You lifted your foot, rubbing it against the hem of his towel. “Fuck me, Satoru~ I’ve been thinking about your cock all day.” You made your voice extra whiney, caressing his large pecs with your peckish hands.

He dragged his lips down your chest, circling your hard nipples with his teasing lips. “Thinking about my cock all day?” He repeated, licking your nipple with his warm tongue, making you whimper. “Who knew my innocent wife could be so crass? So dirty.” He muttered against your skin before he kissed your nipple, taking it in his mouth, and sucking on it.

You moaned at the sensations he brought upon your body, placing your hands against his shoulders, squeezing him, already so antsy with how much he had been making you wait, teasing you.

If you were a tease, then what did that make him?

He focused on your chest and breasts, kissing your body, his dick poking at your leg through the towel, making you extremely restless.

“S-Satoru, please.” You muttered, reaching your hand down, and tugging at his towel.

He chuckled against your breasts, second waves of vibrations throughout your body, causing you to shiver in reply. “Someone is eager~”

You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care to beg, and you definitely didn’t care if you appeared desperate. This man was your husband, and you had been teased and edged by the mere thought of him all day when he had promised you his time.

“I’ll give my wife what she wants, okay?” He settled, reaching his hand down his towel, making you hum in anticipation. “Since you’ve waited long enough.”

With that, he finally removed the towel from his bottom half, his dick jerking forward, slapping against his abdomen, making him grunt in response. Precome had already gathered on his tip, he hadn’t anticipated himself to be so turned on, the shower he had with you was enough to bring him to his edge.

You marveled at his size, never getting quite used to how big he was. “And I’m the eager one, huh?” You teased, running your hand down his chiseled muscles. “Looks like you’ve been tormenting yourself just trying to keep him contained.” You reached low enough to grab his dick, gently squeezing him.

He groaned at your movements, dropping his head in your chest. “Y-You don’t know how fucking sexy you looked when we showered together. How sexy you look right now. I could just fuck you senseless right now, and I wouldn’t stop, even when you’re whining and begging me to stop.”

His words had you chewing your lower lip, the knot in your gut tightening.

You released him, bringing both your hands up to his cheeks. “Satoru. I need you.” You voiced your desires, unable to wait anymore, you could practically feel yourself spilling over the towel that still lay under you, soaked.

Satoru shushed you, kissing your neck and cheeks. “I’ll give you what you want, okay?”

You hum, nodding in excitement, taking his kisses while you feel him position himself at your entrance, distracting you with his moving lips.

He spread you open himself, his hands pushing your thighs apart, prepping you for him. You worked with him, opening up, slightly adjusting your hips.

“That’s it, baby, open up for me, okay?” Satoru praised, something you loved when you two had sex.

You moaned when you felt his tip slip against your folds, slightly tensing up.

He kissed your forehead. “Relax baby, okay? For me. You’re okay, you always take me like such a good girl.”

You moaned in reply, keeping your grip on his shoulders, your eyes open, never wanting to miss a moment of such a blissful moment with your caring husband.

You relaxed your shoulders, and that’s when he pushed part of his dick inside your wet self, slipping inside you so easily when you were already so wet and turned on for him.

You gasped, digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. “S-Satoru, I-I need all of you in me.” You requested, knowing he wasn’t fully inside yet.

Satoru hummed, his eyebrows pressed together, focused on pleasuring you and giving you what you wanted most. He followed your orders without a second thought, fully entering you, the sensations of your tight walls against his tumescent dick always left his brain clouded. It was always him who needed time to adjust, focused on not releasing his load so fast with how your walls contracted against him.

It also allowed you to adjust, too. It had been a while since the two of you had sex. With how busy Satoru had been, it had nearly been three weeks, which was quite a while considering how eager and ravenous the both of you constantly were for each other daily.

He kissed your lips, then your cheeks and jaw, smothering you while he remained stagnant inside you, simply taking in this moment, the moment he loved most. After a few lingering kisses that left your skin hot, he began stroking himself against your walls, slow and gentle at first.

You wrapped your arms over his nape, tangling your fingers in his hair, sharing your breaths, inhaling one another, keeping your eyes on his.

That glossy look in his blue eyes, the look you’ve memorized to be a look of pure love and desire. There was never any hint of disrespect in his eyes, admiring you, and loving you thoroughly with all his heart, cherishing every moment of lovemaking with you– his wife.

His cheeks were red, thrusting into you with passion, his voice brittle against his pace as he spoke. “Y-You look so gorgeous whenever you're full with my dick. I-I don’t think I could ever get used to it.” He lowered toward your ear, kissing your soft lobe. “It’s- It’s been so long since we last had sex, I don’t know how I’ll keep up today.” He chuckled, removing himself from your ear.

You mumbled nonsense under your breath, practically inebriated, gasping quietly when you felt him pick up the pace just a little bit.

Satrou watched as your breasts would bounce with the pace he set, looking back and forth between your boobs and your trusting eyes. “You’re okay, love? Y-you’re not saying much.”

You hadn’t realized how quiet you had been, simply moaning and sighing under his muscular body, occasionally mumbling something under your breath, scratching your nails over his back, watching the way his expression would wince at your scratches, yet he allowed you to, not stopping you from it.

“I-I’m just focusing on not finishing so fast.” You revealed to your husband with blush-stained cheeks, to which he laughed at your revelation. “It’s been so long, Satoru.”

He agreed, humming, caressing your wet hair behind your ear as he continued to thrust inside your walls, hitting every right spot, the knot in your gut coming undone each time he pounded in you with such passion and force. “Oh, baby I know it’s been too long. I miss the way your pussy feels against my cock, the way your walls stretch against me.” He began describing, earning pleasured moans from you, his gruff and unsteady voice was enough to make your finish.

You rolled your head back, shutting your eyes.

Satoru grabbed your leg, clutching it over his torso. “No, baby, keep your eyes on me.” He instructed.

You looked up at your husband through blurry eyes, wrapping your other leg around his torso, your lips falling open as he thrusts his twitching dick inside you.

“Oh, Satoru.” You mumbled his name, unable to stop words from flooding your open mouth, being fucked senseless, beyond any coherent words.

Satoru chuckled, keeping his eyes on you. “I’m right here sexy.” He reassured.

You listened to the sweet sounds your touching skin would make, the noises reflecting and bouncing off the walls, along with your breathy moans and whines and the groans that fled Satoru’s sensual lips, watching how dizzy and drunk you were off his pounding and restless cock.

“F-Faster, please.” You requested, feeling the tension in your gut coming to relief with just a little bit more pushing. “I-I want to come all over your dick.”

“You want me to go faster?” Satoru repeated incredulously, laughing. “Alright, my wife.” He heeded, moving one of your legs off his torso and onto his shoulder, readjusting himself so that he had a better angle that granted him more speed, just for you.

You moaned at the stretch it caused, letting your leg dangle off his shoulder, your foot moving in the air against his fast thrusts.

You felt yourself coming to your edge, the knot in your gut unraveling quickly. You rolled your foot in the air, curling and pointing your toes, gripping the sheets with your hands as you shut your eyes, focused on your rising climax.

Satoru knew that look on your face. “Ooh, there it is, baby, come all over this hard cock, be such a good girl, and come for your husband.” He cooed, hitting your g-spot over and over again with his aching tip.

You moaned in reply, gasping and whining beneath him. “Ah, ah~” You cried against his powerful thrusts. “S-Satoruuu.” You moaned his name with hot desire lacing your tongue, your heartbeat hammering against your chest, nearly breaking out of your heated body.

Satoru groaned. “That’s what I wanna hear, this cock has you senseless doesn’t it? Can’t even form words can you?”

You hummed, taking a few more last hot breaths before you felt your body tremble, your climax hitting you like waves of a tempestuous storm on a salty ocean shore, shuddering and gasping, as you released your sacred juices onto your husband's throbbing cock.

Satoru moaned at the warmth enveloping his dick, the sight of your reaching your edge was just enough to bring him to his own, still fucking you, speeding up his pace to catch up with you.

You were unable to form words, unable to form thoughts, overstimulated as Satoru only pounded into you with more force after your reached climax, pain, and pleasure stunting through the core of your flushed body as he used your limp body for his finish, throwing your other leg over his shoulder now, giving him more access to fuck you harder.

You let him, whining and gasping beneath him, your breath caught in your tight throat as you listened to him curse under his breath, feeling the way his cock would spasm inside you, granting more moans out of you as he reached his own pleasure.

He finished with a loud groan, hovering over your body as he stopped his set pace, releasing his warm fluids inside you, dressing and coating you with his love and warmth, breathing out shaky breaths, his body trembling above you.

You adored the way his come would wash over your womb, how warm it was, how full he would get you, practically spilling out your wet cunt.

With meticulous hands, he set your legs down, huffing as he pulled himself out of you, his dick wet, leaving a string of come and shared fluids as he pulled himself out of your distended entrance.

Satoru collapsed at your side, not wasting a second to bring you into him, smothering you with his love and affection, not at all tired of having you attached by his hip despite spending passionate minutes inside your body.

You embraced him, panting against his chest, still slightly trembling as you recovered from your impactful climax.

He stroked your hair, kissing your sweating head with his pure lips. “You’re okay, my love?” He whispered delicately, his voice laced with purity and concern.

You nodded, gripping onto his shoulders. “I-I’m okay.”

He sighed in relief. “Good, I was afraid I lost you there.” He expressed with a chuckle.

“You did.” You replied, laughing.

He ran his fingers through your damp hair. “But, you’re okay, sweetheart. Aren’t you? You were so good.”

You blushed at his praises, nuzzling in his chest.

Sex was good.

No, it was always amazing with Satoru.

But, Satoru’s aftercare was an arcadian in itself, always making sure you felt so loved and so appreciated.

“I love you.” He whispered in your ear, planting more kisses on your forehead with his wet lips.

You hummed, holding him tightly against your naked body. “I love you, Satoru.”

#gojo #jjk gojo #jjk #jjkxyou #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jjk fic #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader

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randombush3 · 4 months

Text

cool about it

alexia putellas x reader

summary: you can't find inspiration for your play

notes: this was rotting in my drafts and then i got drunk and finished it lolz

i refuse to read it back so have fun

The first time Alexia sees you, you are with your friends; sleeves rolled-up, wide smile on your face, a pool cue in your hand as you wield it like a weapon the minute one of the women beside you opens her mouth. She is drawn into observing, craving the knowledge of what you are being told; what is making you blush so furiously. She sees your mouth open, a blackhole that draws her in without mercy, and she barely survives the sound of your loud, raucous laughter

Suddenly, in the universe of football and media events and her little sister’s embarrassingly active love-life, you appear. Like a new star, burning bright, big and hot and… “You’re staring,” says Mapi with a smile. She knows not to tease, and she treads lightly. “You’ve been staring for a while.”

“They’re speaking English.” It’s an incriminating sentence, but it would have been futile to deny Mapi’s accusation anyway.

“I saw her at the bar. She spoke Spanish then.”

“You’ve been stalking her.”

Mapi nods, and holds Alexia’s drink in a silent push to get her over to the pool table. To you. “Because you’ve been staring. I was only making sure she wasn’t a psycho.”

“Thanks,” she scoffs, but, in truth, she is grateful.

As she saunters over (a newly regained skill, months down the line from her traumatic ACL reconstruction surgery), her confidence a believable façade, she decides that she is going to be Alexia Putellas. She is going to be cool about it, and she is going to impress you, and she is going to make you laugh so that she can hear that sound again.

Again, again, again.

“Yeah, sure, you can take over for Soph,” you say, nodding towards the woman who had been on the receiving end of your light prodding with the wooden stick all of friends regret allowing three-drink you to be in charge of. “So you’re spots, I’m stripes. I’ve got two left until I can pot the black, and you, er, you might be at a disadvantage here.” You rub the back of your neck as you peer at the balls on the table, almost all of them left behind by Soph’s inability to play pool. “How about we just, um–”

“Está bien.” Alexia pretends to understand a lot more of what you said than she really does, regretting her choice to approach you in English, but she gets the jist. And, although you make her feel as though life has only just begun, she remembers her competitiveness very, very clearly. “Voy a ganar,” she scoffs.

She holds in her celebration as you break out into a grin, immediately rising to the challenge, glad your friends have tired of the pool table so that no one can interrupt the battle you are about to commence. A battle with a very pretty woman, you must admit.

You lose.

You blame it on Alexia – she tells you her name as she pots three balls in a row – and try not to acknowledge the taunts from your friends at the bar, most of them having watched the entire game from afar to have something to talk about tomorrow. “You win,” comes your pitiful concession after a brutal defeat. “So, what will your prize be?”

It’s an easy answer.

That morning, throat hoarse from the cries that left it the night before, eyes red and tired and way too sensitive to light for you to consider drinking a drop of alcohol ever again, you wrap your arms around the warm body in the unfamiliar bed, finding the intimacy to have lived on longer than it should for a one-night-stand. Barcelona is warm and sunny, the day one to be enjoyed, and the company the best you have had in a while.

It isn’t just that Alexia is a goddess. It isn’t the Amazonian ridges of her stomach and the firmness of her thighs, nor the softness of her hair or the deft movements of her fingers against your scarred skin. No, that is not what has, in just one evening, made you fall in love with her. (You bite your lip as you are overcome with emotion, chest filling up – with which feeling, you do not know –, heart pounding into your bones as the rhythm of your desire to be in Alexia’s life sets into the very framework of your being.) No! How could it be that? How could it be that when there is more?

The coarseness of her determination; the slippery confidence, delicate and sharp, as though it is both the petal of a rose and the thorn that will prick you. Her humour, mistranslated at times, but always ready to make fun of idiots (most often, a specific idiot with a neck tattoo, as you come to realise).

Personally, you believe it to be unfair that Alexia, Alexia Putellas, is simply ‘all that’.

Getting to know each other fails to feel awkward, though you spend a lot of time waiting for the tension to appear.

She discovers who you are, how you have moved to Barcelona for inspiration, finding that very thing lacking in dreary Leeds (the most depressing place on Earth, you could argue). She learns of your dream, although you label it as your ‘plan’: to write a play and to see it on the stage, preferably a grand theatre in the West End. Or in Stratford, where upon lies the greatest soil from which a playwright can grow.

You show her your empty pages, devoid of black print marks. White and white, that goes on until it is clear that you have tired of pressing the ‘enter’ button as though it will ignite a story within. A story that hasn’t yet come, mind.

“Do you think it will work?” she asks you, her accusation carrying nothing but curiosity once you see past the abrupt manner in which she interrupts your lengthy monologue about your severe case of writer’s block.

Maybe you intend to be a little vague, for the sake of your racing heart and your delicate emotions, because you only shrug. You have already found your inspiration, not that you are going to tell her.

Alexia is forward in the sense that she checks how temporary your presence is in her city before asking you out on a date. Your answer of ‘however long this shit takes’ is enough for her to be sure that she wants a second. A third, too.

Then, before you know it, it has been a year.

A year of Barcelona, a year of Spanish sun, and, excitingly, a year in which you have been cured; fingers blessed with movement and ideas and words on the tip of your tongue that run free in Alexia’s ear as you talk and talk and talk. She listens and listens and listens, and switches into the focus of your pairing when you go with her to watch her team play and play and play (why the fuck does football have so many matches?!). The final stage direction, all curling italics and sentimentality, sits at the bottom of the page.

The end of your play.

It is finished, it is done, and, soon after you have revised it one last time, it is sent to your producer friend with a nervous click of the ‘new email’ button and the hope that he is thankful for the times at university when you cared for him when he drank himself so silly that he barely made it to his lectures two days after the night-out.

“It feels good,” you tell Ingrid, the girlfriend of the idiot with the neck tattoo, beaming as she inquires about your work. “I feel like I lived through it to get to this moment, you know? All that’s left to do is for him to read it and decide whether he’ll pick it up. Then, table reads and funding, of course. I’d want to direct, but, also, I’m not going to sell this one. Leasing it and taking a percentage of the royalties will make me loads more, because, Ingrid, this one is the best thing I’ve ever written.”

There is a moment, usually, that comes after you have finished writing. A brief, sharp sort of panic, where you question your worth and your talent; you wonder if you have been lied to your whole life, and that your version of the same twenty-six letters of the alphabet, jumbled up on a white canvas as though you are (after a sleepless, usually) Picasso, is terrible. Or, worse, bad.

Bad. Bad is so… plain. If it is just ‘bad’, you have failed as a writer. If it is not outrageous or unbelievably horrible, or, as one obviously hopes, incredible and amazing… if it is just ‘bad’, well: “Alexia, I’m terrified.”

Alexia kisses your neck (you do not feel the finality of it, or maybe it is that you do not want to) because she knows it isn’t bad; she is more than aware that your play, your new creation, is really rather good. Brilliant, even. “Tranquila, mi amor,” she murmurs in your ear, bringing her arms to rest on your tense shoulders, a hand closing your laptop on its journey. “Le va a flipar.”

“You think so?”

“Sí.”

“Are you saying that because we’re together and you love me?” Your voice is small and unsure, and its teasing lilt is thrown off-kilter by the croak of your anxiety. “Or do you mean it? Please, I hope you mean it.”

“I mean it.” She hates that she does. “Yes, of course I mean it. I love you and I am proud of you.” She hates it, she hates this, and she hates the talent your mind wields; something that is going to rip you from her grasp. It was bound to happen.

Your phone rings; soft, electronic trills dancing in the space between you and the coffee table it has been placed on. “I think that’s him,” you whisper, the volume you had intended to speak at smited by the nervous lump in your throat. Alexia nods mournfully, but you are too busy accepting the call to see.

“Let’s do this,” he says.

…

The first frost of London comes that January. It’s unusual, the locals claim, because the city exists in its own polluted microclimate, but their statistics do not stop the layer of ice from freezing onto the windshield of your car. You are glad London feels just as cold as you do.

Your play is beloved by the actors who speak your words, and the critics amongst your friend group, who for once, have no criticism to give. There is promise here. It is going very well.

You drive to the theatre, ready to sit in on another rehearsal. Though your original intention had been to direct, you pawed off the role to an old school friend upon her return from Broadway. Your decision, you tell her, comes from a lack of experience in direction. You pretend to have had an epiphany: you only want to write the plays.

In truth, this is a lie.

Of course it is a lie.

But how can you direct such happiness, such love and romance, if you know that the very thing that inspired each line has ceased to exist?

Alexia feels like she has ceased to exist.

On the outside, she seems relatively fine. She trains well, plays well, makes appearances where she should, says what you’d expect of her, hopes to make the world a better place. She walks Nala as though the Pomeranian does not whine for you to hold her leash, and she visits her mother and sister even though they continue to ask her why she did what she did.

At night, she scrolls through social media, fingers always leading her back to you; your life; your work; your experiences that you no longer share with her. She cries, then, usually: a common occurrence nowadays.

There is a gaping hole in her chest that has been made by her sticking her fucking foot in it.

She has questions, naturally; each directed hatefully at herself. Why? Why, why why? Why on Earth did she tell you never to come back? Why did she blame you for leaving?

You were always going to leave! Alexia knows that, hates that she knows that.

You came to Barcelona because you couldn’t write, and you wrote. You wrote, you made her fall in love with you, and, when you had finished, you discarded the life you had unexpectedly built all because of some stupid, stupid play.

A play titled–

A play.

A… Alexia can’t even bring herself to think about it.

No, all Alexia can think about is how insignificant she feels when you are no longer in love with her. You: sophisticated, intelligent, brilliant, adoring. Her?

“Lex, you can’t mope if you’re the one who broke it off.” The words leave Alba’s mouth in jest but Alexia recoils as though she has been whipped by her sister’s tongue.

“I’m trying to be cool about it,” she replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It seems as though the globe has spun a full circle on its axis by the time Alba formulates her response, dumb-struck by such fucking idiocy.

Alba hopes her sister feels like a fool – she hopes Alexia looks at herself in the mirror and… laughs, at this point. The whole thing has been ridiculous, in her opinion.

First, her sister claims she is in love with a playwright with no plays to her name (Alba is examining the facts objectively, here, because she did quite like you); then, poof! Like a rabbit in a magician’s hat played in twisted reverse, away you go, and it somehow isn’t even your fault.

She’d like to hate you, for her sister’s sake, but she finds herself loathing her own blood as it thins and thins until it trickles just like water.

Okay, maybe she is being a little dramatic there, but she is still annoyed with Alexia.

Alexia – whose existence as more-than-a-footballer is fading as she loses herself to waves of futile guilt – hates that she cannot hate you. She is plagued by emotional constipation, and though she tries to squeeze the situation for a drop of cruelty from you, she fails to discover a gram of relief.

It would have been kinder for you to have been cruel. Mercy is getting Alexia nowhere, and she would run to you if it were fast enough. Mercy is what renders her in a perpetual state of regret. Mercy is what keeps her up at night, but maybe mercy is what she likes having because it is yours and, in that way, she carries a piece of you with her.

To confuse herself even more, to skew her mind further onto a path of unconventional self-destruction, she silently begs the mercy you have left behind to disappear so that she can learn to do without it. It’ll become a crutch and she wants it ripped from her grasp so that she can learn to walk on her own. She’s capable of that, she tells herself.

(It probably isn’t true.)

…

Opening night.

You’re wearing something far too nice to be comfortable, and there has been a champagne flute in your hand since the lunch held by the investors of the production company. The bubbles have served their purpose, clouding your mind with thoughts that weren’t to do with Alexia and her Alexia life and her Alexia smile and her Alexia way of making an Alexia-shaped cavity in your heart.

It gushes quite a bit, because Alexia is strong and big and capable of damaging you to this extent. You reckon your surprise is foolish but fuck off, you’re trying your best.

Comfortingly, not one scrap of red velvet is visible once the audience is ushered inside the theatre.

It’s beautiful here; small, old. The perfect place to fall in love, just as you did. Or at least, experience the good part through deliciously talented actors and a stellar script (your horn has been tooted enough times for you to give it a go).

Fear creeps up your legs as you take your seat in the front row, guarded by friends and family and proud English teachers who’d believe in you, but you take another sip and it simmers down.

“Careful,” whispers your mum, shoulder nudging yours as you place your plastic cup (no glass in the auditorium) on the patterned carpet just as the show is about to begin. “You’ll not remember this if you don’t take a break.”

And you’re halfway to announcing you don’t want to remember anything at all when the curtain goes up and a woman walks onto stage.

It’s sobering.

The audience is restlessly quiet, anticipating the brilliance they’ve been promised with an impatience that demands to be sated, but the actress takes her sweet time.

She walks from stage left to stage right, then up and down. She’s passively searching for something.

Someone.

(It’s the fucking point, and you knew this would happen because you typed out these exact stage directions once upon a time. Alexia had misplaced a sock – a lucky sock, she claimed – and her passion, her desire to discover it, had weirdly morphed into a scene you could see being played out on a stage.)

“Figure this out later,” speaks the actress with a satisfied smile, folding her arms over her chest. Finally, the audience’s breaths catch, enraptured by the vaguest cop-out of opening lines you could’ve chosen.

They love it, though; they lean forwards in their seats as they are plucked from London and dropped into the middle of Barcelona. It’s mildly unnerving that you can’t escape the journey, clearly a member of the audience even if you don’t need to be told the story, but you land without the masses in the rows behind you.

You land right into Alexia’s arms.

There she is before you, in all her glory, proudly displaying the blue and red that she is so admirably dedicated to. Muscular and tanned, beautiful in the way that she always is, but shining brighter than just that.

And you fucking hate it.

When you imagine Alexia, you imagine her crippled and bed-ridden. Cracked knuckles come to mind, too, and she can barely speak without descending into rattling sobs that hack on and on until she somehow falls into fitful rest.

You come prepared for absolution, expecting to see her dying just as you are, so it’s no wonder that your fists clench at her blasé declaration of “no regrets”.

(By the way, Alexia’s not really there. You’d been stalking her Instagram and so that’s why she’s wearing her training kit, and… and you’re drunk!)

There are many things you’d like to say to her.

Alexia had always been apprehensive of your relationship. She was closed-off to new people, and though she was certain of your importance to her, she was untrusting of much else. It happens when you’re famous; there are many wrong turns to take. And she needed to stay on the right path.

It was impossible to pass Alexia’s test.

For you, that is clear. Broken up with, told to leave and never come back, and begged to find someone else are not descriptors of the winner, nor she who achieved full marks. You’re a bit of a stranger to failing, but you’re trying to forget about it so that it never happens again.

You’re breaking a sweat trying to banish her from your brain, barely registering the applause rippling through the theatre as you reach the interval. Trying to get her out of your head is like tugging at your intestines – a hand down your throat renders you dumb, and pains sears through your stomach as you are emptied and left to be a carcass.

“Is it good?” you ask your mum as you head to the bar in the foyer.

“I wish you had let me meet her.”

…

Alexia has never been to London outside of football before. She’s played in the north and in the south – she’s won every time – and it’s summery enough right now, but she is still a foreigner in the city.

It’s fitting, this feeling of being lost, and it’s acceptable to feel it here because she has an excuse. Lost in Barcelona would be ridiculous.

(But she is.)

Why is Alexia in London when she could be in Spain?

Well the only answer is that she has a ticket to a play in a theatre just off the West End that reminds her of someone she once loved.

She thought it might help, seeing as she hasn’t scored a goal in four weeks with no assists to excuse the drought. Her manager gladly gave her the weekend to recharge, and she escapes matchday seven of Liga F under the guise of illness.

While sleeping with your pillow, your t-shirt, she must have absorbed whatever the fuck you were on. By osmosis.

That block.

And now she has to act like she can’t read your mind.

Her ticket, acquired last minute by a friend in high places as a massive favour, means that she has a front row seat to a damned play. She is well-prepared for the dread that wrenches her gut.

The silence settling over her is uncomfortable and impatient, and the lights go down with a sense of impending doom. It’s a bit like being on death row, Alexia thinks. Here she gets to see the good things – a last meal of whatever she would like (you, of course that’s you) – but it is only because of her inevitable execution that this happens.

The necklace hanging from her collarbones is a noose, the seat is a wooden box about to be kicked out from underneath her, and she needs to make her decision now: does she scream? Should she–

She’s pulled out of her insanely dramatic spiral by a woman walking onto the stage.

Her shoulders are hunched slightly and she has that look in her eye; that pang of hunger.

The actress is recognisable, sure, but that is not the familiarity that strikes Alexia.

It’s the character.

It’s you.

Walking from right to left, towards the back, down to the front, the actress is desperately searching for something.

Inspiration, Alexia assumes, a smug smile briefly brushing her lips as the opening line breaks the tense silence.

“Figure this out later,” you say.

The actress is experienced but she has never read a script like yours before. It moved her to tears, though you claimed it was very happy.

She lies awake at night, furiously envying those who could love like you do.

She pities you, partly, because it’s no secret that the story of this love ended when you came here to put the show on.

She has had to fall in love with someone – method acting, according to the director.

It’s not quite the universe exploding and stars being born that your relationship must have been, but it’s alright and she is glad to see him in the audience.

He’s next to a woman who does not seem to be enamoured by the beauty of the plot.

A woman who seems absolutely fucking horrified.

Her eyes are wide, fists clenched.

You – the real you – are watching Alexia with curiosity, more interested in her reaction to the play than the play itself. You wonder if she knows the significance of tonight; the reason you are here once more.

In one month, the set and costumes will be packed up in boxes and taken onto the main street.

It’s a dream come true.

You’re here to announce the good news at the end of the show.

…

“Alexia.”

She tries not to turn around but she does.

The night is cool and fresher than she’d expected the London pollution to allow, and the lamp posts are scarily looming over her as she forces herself to not run into your arms. You don’t wear a coat, although your year in Barcelona has borne a certain nostalgia for a warmer climate, but Alexia is wrapped up warm.

“How… how are you doing?”

You cringe at how apologetic it sounds. She broke up with you.

There is a year that will be forever lost to love and happiness, bliss in Barcelona that was always going to be too good to be true.

There is a year that you will never get back, but there is a breakup you must deal with.

It’s not a brick wall, it’s a hurdle to jump over.

Breaking up won’t be the end of your worlds.

Knowing this, despite the weakness in her knees and the aching of her heart, Alexia lies. For your sake, she lies.

“I’m good. It’s nice to see you.”

You’re drowning but you’ll eventually remember how to swim.

“You too,” you say with formulated sincerity that one day will grow naturally. “Score a goal next time you play, though.”

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #randombush3

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james-bucky-barnackle · 3 months

Text

I mean?

Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N

Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.

A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.

It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.

You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.

The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.

“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.

“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.

“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.

The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”

“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.

“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.

“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”

“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”

“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”

“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”

“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.

“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”

Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”

You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”

The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.

“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,

“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“Oh, you have?”

You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”

“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”

“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”

He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”

“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.

“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”

You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.

You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.

“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”

“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”

Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”

You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”

The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”

Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.

You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”

You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.

Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”

You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”

Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”

You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you.

The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”

Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”

You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.”

Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.

The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”

You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.

“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”

He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”

“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”

Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”

“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.

Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”

“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Eight it is."

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eiightysixbaby · 1 year

Text

12:25 A.M.

word count: 1.7k

summary: eddie calls you late one night while he’s looking at your photos…. ;)

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut smut smut. this entire thing is just filth from the get-go, sorry not sorry. lots of swearing, eddie & reader masturbate over the phone, lots of dirty talking - eddie and reader are bein nastyyyyy, daddy kink on the low, mention of explicit photos/nudes, if I forgot anything lmk!

author’s note: yeah so uhhhh the eddie sluts discord was having a convo about eddie keeping dirty polaroids of you and thus, this piece of filth was born. i’m so serious there’s barely a plot this is just nastiness, enjoy!!! also: the photos in the photo set above are not meant to represent what reader looks like - they’re just aesthetically pleasing.

*Rriiiiiiiing Rriiiiiiing*

The sound of the phone startles you from your half-asleep state. You’d unintentionally almost fallen asleep sitting up in your bed, television still playing softly in the background. You rub your bleary eyes and turn to the clock as you grab the phone. 12:25am. Who would be calling at this hour?

“Hello?” you say into the receiver, voice a little groggy.

“Hey, sweets. I’m sorry for calling so late,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice on the other end.

“Eds, hi. What’s up, are you alright?” you sit more alert now, wondering why he’s calling you after midnight.

“I’m fine sweet thing, just had a long day at work and I missed you,” his voice sounds breathy, not his usual tone of voice. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“I had kind of dozed off, but it’s fine. What are you up to over there, baby?” you ask him, curling the phone cord around your fingers.

“Oh, y’know… just looking through those sexy Polaroids I took of you. Touching myself a little bit,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, and you feel yourself shudder a little at his words.

Throughout the time you’ve been dating Eddie, he’s gathered quite the collection of explicit photos of you. He loves to take pictures of you in all sorts of positions, snapping shots of you naked on his bed, you split wide open on his cock, you sticking your tongue out while he presses his cock to your mouth, one of your face covered in his cum. You’ve even taken some of your own to sneak into his stash, photos of your tits squished together, or your fingers buried deep in your cunt. Eddie loves them, he looks at them all the time. He keeps the safe-for-work photos of you in his wallet and in his car, but the raunchy ones sit in a box under his bed - for his eyes only.

“Touching yourself to little old me, handsome?” you tease him, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck yeah baby, it’s like I’ve got my own personal porn star to look at, how could I resist?”

Your cheeks heat up at his response, and you clench your thighs together involuntarily. You know what he wants, know he needs to get off, so you take the bait.

“Mm, wish I was there to touch you instead, Eddie,” you giggle, feeling heat rush to your core at the thought of him spread out in bed, jerking his cock to you.

“Shit, baby, you know I love your hands on me,” there’s a pause, and then, “What are you wearing right now, sweets?”

“One of your t-shirts, you know - the blue and black tie dye one, and a pair of black panties….” you speak slowly, drawing out the words.

“No bra?” he asks, his voice husky.

“No bra, baby. In fact, you can see my nipples through the fabric of the shirt….” you trail off, knowing what you’re doing to him. One of your hands reaches up to toy with your breasts as you speak, as if you’re doing him a favor by touching the parts of you that he can’t right now.

“Fuuuuuuck, I need my hands on you baby. Wish I was there with you right now,” you can detect the strain in his voice, can faintly hear the schlick schlick of his hand moving up and down his cock.

It only turns you on further, and you slowly slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, ghosting circles over your clit. “Mmm, Eds, I need you here right now,” your voice is seductive, pleading.

“Yeah, baby? What would you have me do if I was there with you?” Eddie purrs.

“I’d have you finger my soaking pussy…. two fingers, maybe three… need you to stretch me out,” you’re dipping your own fingers past your entrance as you get the words out, your fingers not reaching even close to the places Eddie’s can reach. “I love when you curl your fingers inside me, you know how to play with me, baby.”

“Fuck yeah I do, sweetheart, shit-” Eddie grunts, and you can tell he’s picking up his pace on his cock. “Wish I was fingering you, hitting that spot you love, getting those pretty sounds out of you-”

“Please, baby, love how you touch me…” you’re begging even though he’s not there with you.

“Would you suck my cock for me, baby? Fit my fat cock down your throat, hm?” he continues on, and his words have your head spinning. Imagining his fingers inside you instead of your own as you work to get yourself off. You’ve never engaged in phone sex before this, really, but with Eddie it feels so natural. It’s a different kind of turn-on to hear him talk to you while you know he’s got his thick fingers around his cock, pretending that it’s you.

“Y-yes, daddy. Love having your cock in my mouth, need you to fuck my face…” you’re practically moaning into the phone, head lolling backwards. “Wanna taste you, please Eddie please…”

“That’s my good fucking girl, need to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, baby. Love when you swallow my load,” his breath is staggered as he speaks through gritted teeth. “Are you touching yourself for me, baby? Got your fingers deep in that pussy?”

“Yeah, ‘m so wet for you, Eds. Doesn’t feel as good as when you do it, though,” you pout, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, the coil in your stomach tightening gradually.

“Aw, I know sweet thing. Need daddy to take care of you, yeah?” Eddie knows exactly how to talk to you to send you reeling, your eyes screwing shut as you finger yourself, movements growing sloppier.

“Yeah babe, fuck, need you inside me. Want you so bad,” your fingers have set a brutal pace fucking into your dripping cunt, and you're almost positive Eddie can hear how soaked you are as you please yourself.

“Got me rock fucking hard for you, baby, can you hear me stroking my cock to your pretty pictures?” he taunts, but you absolutely can hear the filthy noises in the background - quieting your moans so you can listen better.

There’s a beat, and then you hear him spit into his hand, the sloshing sounds picking up speed and intensity as he presumably starts to pump his cock faster. You plunge your fingers as deep as they’ll go inside of you, curling them desperately to hit that delicious soft spot.

“Yes, fuck, it’s so fucking hot listening to you touch yourself for me,” you’re breathing heavy as you work yourself to orgasm, “Wish my fingers were wrapped around your dick right now.”

“Mmmhhh, I love when you wrap those delicate little hands around me, baby. I’m so big they barely hold me, princess,” he’s smirking as he speaks, loves riling you up thinking about the size of him.

“Yeah, Eds, you’re s’fucking big. Love how you fill me up, daddy,” he revels in the praise, and you hear him chuckle on the other end.

“My little cockslut, loves getting stretched by me, hm?” Eddie’s voice is low, sending electricity right to your core. “Shit, baby, my cock’s twitching just thinking about you… ‘M so worked up.”

“Want you to cum for me, Eds. Are you close? Love it when you cum for me,” you’re whining, fingers now circling your clit in rapid movements, getting closer and closer to your release.

“So close, sweetheart, wish I could cum all over that pretty face of yours,” Eddie moans into the speaker, little whispers of shitshitshit falling from his lips. “This picture’s one of my favorites, baby… my cock buried deep in your pussy from behind… my hand gripping your hair. Pretty ass of yours on perfect display f’me, fuck-” he’s tugging desperately on his cock at this point, whimpering into the phone.

“What about the one with me in handcuffs? Legs spread on your bed, waiting for you?” you hum, egging him on, getting him right to the edge of release as you describe the lewd photo.

Eddie doesn’t answer, just lets out a strangled moan on the other end of the line. The two of you go on like that for a little, mewls slipping past your lips, getting wetter as you listen to him cursing, panting, moaning your name. The soft pads of your fingers work on your clit, your insides feeling like they’re on fire with how worked up you are. Your eyes are shut tight, imagining Eddie settling you on his lap as he fucks up into you.

“Baby - fuck - I’m gonna fucking cum, shit,” Eddie whines, bringing you back to reality for a moment.

“Cum for me, baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you coax him, listening closely to hear the way his breath hitches as he finally lets go.

His moans are short and sporadic as he finishes all over his chest and stomach, and you continue to rub your swollen clit as he catches his breath.

“How you doing over there? Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna cum while you think about me? Bet you wish I was filling you up real good, huh?” Eddie’s relentless, talking you through the entire thing.

“Yes, daddy - fuck! Gonna cum, gonna cum for you, oh my god…” the coil in your stomach snaps finally, feeling yourself plummet into bliss. You’re clenching around nothing, moaning ‘EddieEddieEddie’ as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“That’s my good girl, you okay sweet thing?” Eddie coos, listening to you pant as your body calms down.

“Yeah, baby, I’m good. How’re you?” you say softly into the phone once you’ve regained some composure, body spent as you lay back onto your pillows. You feel like you’re floating.

“I made a fuckin’ mess of myself, sweetheart, came so hard,” Eddie huffs a laugh, and you smile.

“Hey, Eds?”

“Yeah, sweets?”

“Take a Polaroid of you all messy with your cum. Wanna start a photo collection of my own,” you chew at your lip, getting flustered thinking about how he must look right now.

“Oh, yeah? And why do you want my photos, sweetheart? Wanna get yourself off to them?” Eddie asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from you.

“Maybe….” you giggle, suddenly feeling shy.

“Fuck, baby. Can I come stay the night? I need to be inside you right now, no way I can wait till tomorrow,” you can picture the puppy dog eyes Eddie would be giving you if he was next to you right now, and you laugh.

“Yeah, Eds, get over here. Gotta live up to all that talk,” you reply, knowing he’s gonna live up to that talk and then some.

“Want me to bring the camera?” he asks.

“Duh.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut

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jjkamochoso · 4 months

Note

It's me again lol!! What about jjk men taking the reader on an aquarium date or like a museum date! ^_^

UR MIND >>>>>>> SO ADORABLE

Also I’m now including Ino because I can’t believe I’ve been forgetting to add my pookie in these

Enjoy and thanks for the request!!! <3

JJK Men Taking You on a Date to the Aquarium/Museum

Fluff

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji:

“That fish looks like you.”

Your eyes fell to where Yuji’s finger was pointing. There was a huge fish with big, bulging eyes swimming in circles in the aquarium exhibit in front of you.

“Oh, really, does it?” You were thoroughly amused at your boyfriend’s antics, his grin widening as you played along. “This one is a spitting image of you.”

Yuji caught a glimpse of the fish you were pointing at and turned away from you, making you frown. Did you inadvertently hurt his feelings? The fish wasn’t *that* ugly. Besides, you both were joking around, but you never meant to go too far and make him sad. You tentatively put a hand on his back to get his attention.

“Yuji, I didn’t—”

He faced you again, this time sporting a quintessential fish face with his cheeks sucked in and lips protruding in a pout. You immediately started cracking up, and since laughter is contagious, especially among you two, so did he.

“There’s lots of cute fish here, but you were the cutest,” you finally said, making him blush. He grasped your hand tightly and you set off for another exhibit.

Megumi:

When Megumi asked you on a date to an art museum, you were elated. A quiet, calm activity like this was perfect for the both of you so you could enjoy each other’s company without many other people observing you. You walked side by side with the boy as you meandered through the exhibit that was showcasing artwork of animals in ancient civilizations. You stopped in front of a particularly cute sculpture of a dog, cooing softly.

“Megumi, look how adorable,” you said, and he nodded in agreement.

“Reminds me of my own,” he mused, referring to his divine dogs (you thought it was precious how close he was to his shikigami).

“Maybe we can bribe the curator with Gojo’s money to take it home with us.”

Megumi shot you a look. “Are you serious? I don’t think you can just take art like that.”

A few seconds passed.

“Can you?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “I was joking.”

Megumi was quiet as usual but the air about him seemed almost contemplative. After a few more seconds, he shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Gojo would probably break it anyway.”

“Wait, were you actually considering trying to buy it?” you questioned.

“Maybe.” The black haired boy shrugged, moving on to the next sculpture.

“Fushiguro the art collector, huh? Who would’ve thought you were so extravagant. Gojo’s spending habits must have rubbed off on you,” you teased, making him huff.

“Shut up,” he said, no bite to his tone whatsoever as you just giggled, cuddling up to his side as you continued on with your date.

Yuta:

“It’s like getting a million little kisses. I’m so in love with this creature.”

"Am I… jealous of a starfish?”

You were currently holding a starfish in your hands, its suction cups sticking to your skin, leaving behind a tickling sensation that you couldn’t get enough of. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan of your kissing analogy and was doing his best not to pout over something so silly.

“Yuta, come closer! It’s too cute not to hold.”

He couldn’t deny he was curious to see what the hype was about. People had flocked over to this exhibit in droves and you guys had waited in line to hold a sea star for an ungodly amount of time—he wasn’t going to miss out now. The handler put one in his hands too and he immediately understood what you meant earlier.

“They are really cute. I see what you meant by the whole kissing thing, that’s amazing,” he said, his voice laced with wonder and amusement as he watched the sea creature grip onto his skin. He then looked up and locked eyes with you, both of your irises alight with love.

“But I still prefer yours.”

Inumaki:

There’s plenty of fish in the sea but you’re the only one for me.

You raised an eyebrow at the words on the phone screen shoved in front of your face while you were watching some fish swim by in the aquarium tank. Toge, meanwhile, was dying laughing at his lame pick up line written in his notes app. Seeing his reaction made your lips quirk up into a mischievous grin as something came to mind. You pulled out your own phone and hurriedly began typing, thrusting it toward him when you were done.

I cod-nt imagine my life without you, Toge. You’re a reel catch.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the grimace he wore.

“Fish flakes,” he said, putting his head in his hands and stifling giggles.

“My line was that bad, huh?” you asked, nudging him softly.

“Salmon,” he agreed, but the loving look he held in his eyes when they met yours again showed he was anything but bothered.

“You’re of-fish-ally the cutest boy I’ve ever seen,” you told him while ruffling his hair playfully, earning a loud groan from the blonde. He quickly typed out another sentence.

I’m so glad we go to the same school.

Noritoshi:

You were pleasantly surprised when Noritoshi asked you on a date to the aquarium. You figured he would’ve deemed it too childish or an experience not scholarly enough but you were wrong, now feeling the pull of his hand as he excitedly walked you around, pointing things out and chatting about things he had just learned.

“…and I just read that most fish don’t have eyelashes. Did you see that too?”

“Except for sharks,” you replied, a gentle smiling resting on your face.

“Exactly.”

Noritoshi took a deep breath as you led him to a bench to sit down and watch the jellyfish float around.

“I’m sorry for getting too passionate. I just feel like I can be myself here. There’s less… pressure, if that makes sense. Like I can learn things just to know them, not to impress anyone or get a good grade on something. It’s… nice.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I know what you mean,” you said, laying a comforting hand on his leg. Noritoshi rested his hand on top of yours and gave it a light squeeze, observing the entrancing dance of the jellyfish.

“They look so free,” he muttered. “I wonder what that feels like.”

Your head was now lovingly balanced against his shoulder as you squeezed his hand back.

“I promise you that one day you’ll know.”

Todo:

“Y/n! You have to watch this!”

You were happy to accompany Aoi to the local science museum for a date. You two were having a fun time exploring and trying out all the different experiments the museum had to offer. You weren’t sure what to expect when Aoi called you over to the experiment he had just done since you were enthralled in a presentation about lightning. You were confused when Aoi put his hand on a big ball, but all of a sudden, the hair in his bun became even spikier than normal.

“Static electricity!” he exclaimed, sporting a huge grin. Seeing how happy all of this made your boyfriend had you smiling from ear to ear as well. When he eventually took his hand off the orb, his hair didn’t quite go back into place.

“C’mere,” you giggled, gesturing to his hair, “I’ll fix it for you.”

“Thank you, my love,” he said, leaning over to where you could reach him. You combed the strands back into place and gave him a kiss on the cheek when you were done.

“You’re having a fun time today, right?” Aoi asked you, a rare moment of vulnerability from the muscular man.

“Of course, Aoi. Thank you for inviting me here.”

“No problem,” he replied, his cocky demeanor back as he winked at you. “Now, if you’re interested, there’s a presentation on superconductors in a few minutes. Do you want to see it?”

It always surprised you when you remembered just how smart your sometimes air-headed boyfriend really was.

Gojo:

When you invited Satoru to the science museum, he was extremely excited. Not because of the science aspect, no, but because he loved to eat the packs of freeze dried ice cream you can buy from the gift shop. You were busy reading a giant wall panel about physics when you felt the thunk of a head resting on your back and heard a sigh of exasperation.

“Are you finished yet? This is boring,” Satoru said, mumbling into your shirt.

“I’m trying to learn, Satoru. It wouldn’t kill you to learn something either. You’re a teacher, aren’t you supposed to have a thirst for knowledge?”

“I have a thirst for soda,” came a muffled reply from behind you. You rolled your eyes, going back to reading. Satoru kept fidgeting and you found yourself getting frustrated at his lack of focus.

“Since you know so much, why don’t you tell me about relativity and quantum mechanics?”

“Quantum mechanics studies the world by looking at just a few small particles like photons and electrons. Relativity is the theory of gravitation that Einstein proposed around the same time as quantum mechanics. General relativity studies the construct of space-time and gravity, while special relativity studies special conditions and scenarios, such as length contraction, which is where an object is moving near the speed of light and its length actually shortens. See, I already know this stuff, so can we pleeeease go to the gift shop now?” Satoru whined, throwing his head back in an exaggerated display of boredom. Your mind was still reeling over the fact that your boyfriend was… ridiculously good at science and never bothered to tell you?!

“I… yeah,” you said, completely dumbfounded. Satoru ignored the confusion in your voice as he cheered, grabbing your hand and leading you to the gift shop.

Geto:

You and Suguru were taking your time walking through the museum he chose for your date. It was nice to walk with him, holding hands and enjoying deep conversations about the pieces that were showcased in each exhibit. You came up to a bench in front of a particularly large infographic and took a seat, your lover sitting next to you. After he knew you were finished reading, he asked you the few little words he assumed would set you off on a passionate tangent (he was right).

“So, y/n, what are your thoughts on this topic?”

As you began to analyze everything you just learned, Suguru watched you intently, but not in a negative manner; he was just so genuinely interested in what you had to say that it was like the whole world around him disappeared every time you opened your mouth. He nodded along, hearing you bring up things he hadn’t even considered yet.

“I’m lucky to have a partner who’s so intelligent,” Suguru cooed, his thumb ghosting over your jawline, initiating this romantic moment like you two were the only people in the building. To him, you were the only people that mattered anyway, so what was the point in hiding how he truly felt?

Nanami:

“C’mon Kento, it’s not as scary as you think it is. They’re completely harmless.”

You were currently trying to get your boyfriend to pet the stingrays but he was not having any part of it. The color had drained from Kento’s face when you submerged your hand in the clear water, feeling the smooth surface of the rays under your fingertips. The blonde man wasn’t afraid, per se, but he didn’t think it was the wisest decision to be touching such a dangerous animal.

“Y/n, I just don’t think it’s a good idea. What if you provoke them?”

You were about to laugh when you saw he was genuinely distressed. Frowning, you stood up and tried to dry your wet hand the best you could before reaching out to him.

“Kento, honey, it’s alright. They have to be really angry to sting people. I promise you’ll be alright if you try it.”

Kento relented and leaned over the touch tank, hesitantly placing his hand in the water next to yours. When a ray swam under him, the rubbery texture gracing his skin, he immediately tensed up. Your unoccupied hand landed on his arm as encouragement and it seemed to help him relax a bit. A few more stingrays came over to him and Kento finally calmed down, smiling as he greeted his new friends.

Ino:

“Babe, look, that’s literally us.”

Ino caught your attention away from a particularly interesting exhibit about seaweed as he pointed to a diagram that displayed two fish with their mouths on each other.

“Ino, that’s very sweet, but I think they’re fighting.”

Your boyfriend leaned closer to read the tiny print, his hands in his pockets in a display of nonchalance that you always found supremely attractive.

“Oh, you’re right! They try to flip each other over like that. It’s like the Spider-Man kiss but more badass.”

You shook your head, lightly chuckling as you linked your arm in his and continued walking through the aquarium. All of a sudden, you gasped and tapped Ino’s arm excitedly.

“Oh my god! This is literally us!”

Ino’s eyes went wide and his smile grew bigger. You were showing him to a video that displayed otters holding hands as they drifted in the water.

“Yeah,” he said dreamily, resting his chin on the top of your head as you watched the animals on the screen, “it is.”

Choso:

You were sitting in a dark room of the planetarium, looking up at a projected sky full of stars with your handsome boyfriend. Choso had his arm wrapped tightly around your body, hand resting on your waist as your head was nestled against his shoulder. You sat there quietly, enjoying the peacefulness of the exhibit. The sight of the stars above you changed into a slow spinning view of the earth and you gasped lightly.

“Woah, look at how beautiful our world is.” You didn’t hear him reply, which was unusual, so you lowered your eyes from the spectacular scene above to look at the man next to you.

“You’re my world,” he stated bluntly, unrelenting gaze boring into your own. “You’re the brightest star in the galaxy of my life.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you said, trying not to show how flustered you got over his beautiful words. He just drew you in closer, adamant to never let you go.

Toji:

“How does this piece make you feel?”

“Like I’ve been here for hours and I’m hungry.”

Toji wasn’t the biggest fan of the art museum you dragged him to but you were glad he allowed you to take him here in the first place. It meant a lot to you that he would willingly go somewhere like this that completely disinterested him, but he would go to the ends of the earth to please you.

“There’s a cafe around here if you wanna go eat,” you said, paying him no mind as you studied the painting that grabbed your attention.

Toji scoffed. “And leave you here by yourself? No way.”

Your focus was now broken, instead trying to stifle a laugh at his overprotective behavior. “The art isn’t going to kidnap me, you know.”

“I know,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest, “but some dude might see a smart, attractive person like you by yourself and think he has a chance.”

“And I need my big, hot, uninterested-in-art boyfriend to keep an eye out for me?”

“Exactly.” Toji smirked at you while you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I appreciate that. I’ll finish up here and we’ll head to the cafe together then?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You went back to your contemplative state while Toji’s eyes wandered the room. He would never tell you this, but he found many of the pieces actually interesting and hoped you would take him along to more places like this in the future.

#yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki x reader #noritoshi x reader #aoi todo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #ino takuma x reader

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saksukei · 1 year

Text

simon ‘ghost’ riley and his love languages

masterlist | i think i may have wrote too much??

there’s one thing lieutenant simon ghost riley knew when he began dating you. he had to be the best version of himself or at least try. you were the only person he met that he ever wanted to try for.

i. words of affirmation

initially, simon has trouble adjusting to calling you any pet names and just calls you by your name. it isn’t until he gets comfortable enough to say, “love” which is his go to nickname. he says them only in private though.

and then it’s nicknames galore. he calls you his sunshine because he literally adores your smile so much!!! the type to say, “i brought flowers for you. they needed sunshine and you were the obvious choice.” and he also says things like, “my darling angel” when you get him a cup of tea.

most importantly, if you ever do something that’s like daunting or difficult for you or if you learn something he’s gonna say “that’s my girl, always so intelligent.” if the two of you ever hit the gym together and you hit more reps than your regular ones, he’s gonna be so happy for you. “atta girl,” he kisses your cheek as he pats your back.

ii. gifts

he wasn’t very heavy on gift giving. that was until he saw something that he knew you’d like and bought it. and the smile that graced your face with the stars in your eyes made him want to do it more often.

and he felt his heart jump when he saw you cherish the letters he’d written when he was deployed. ever since then, he’s been leaving cute little notes for you, making handmade things you’d like such as bracelets, necklaces. he knows how to sew and he sewed a cute little shirt for you. this also brings me to the fact that he likes knitting a lot and loves making mug warmers? it’s endearing really. he can also carve wood apparently? so he makes sweet little decoration pieces for your apartment. (but also lumber jack simon making me insane)

all in all, he loves giving gifts. he’s the type to make a special notebook for just you and put pressed flowers on each page. “got you something you liked, darling.”

iii. acts of service

simon’s strongest way of expressing love is through acts of service. he’s a military man and a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words.’ i’ve said it before that his eye for detail is insane and he uses it in the relationship as well. alongside with his ability to literally commit you to memory, he remembers everything. (except birthdays, but he’ll remember yours).

from bending down to tie your shoelaces, to refilling snacks that he knows you like, to picking up heavy stuff, to guiding you with a hand on your waist, everything really!!! can read your facial expressions like it’s the only thing he knows and can immediately figured out what you like and don’t like. “you okay?”

and god, he's also aware of the sidewalk rule! never lets you walk on the outer side. the type to place a hand on corners and edges so that you don’t get hurt. he’s always looking out for you, ensuring you don't have anything in your way. he’ll always stand behind you because he feels it gives him a better chance to protect you.

iv. quality time

such a sucker for spending time with you but that’s mainly because he knows his is limited. and he would never risk not spending another minute with you. from watching movies, to watching you do make up in front of the vanity, to reading books together, training together, having tea. he finds your presence alone to be comforting. it's like you deal with all of his inner thoughts and reservations without even knowing it.

he also enjoyed doing mundane domestic tasks with you like getting groceries, setting up ikea furniture, cooking and cleaning together, honestly he loves it all. especially if there’s some jazz music playing in the background. i can absolutely imagine rubbing a little flour on simon’s face and he’ll get so offended, chasing you around the entire house, pining you down, just to do the same to you.

v. physical touch

simon is hesitant to become physically affectionate. that's not to say that he doesn’t enjoy it, it's just that when you’ve been met with violence all your life, gentleness is hardly something you expect.

but god, did he want to melt into a puddle when you held his hand or when you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. he swears he forgot how to breathe. and little by little, he got comfortable. hands hesitant to be on your waist, until that's the only place you found them, his head always nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “this might just be the favorite part of my day,” he says softly.

from lacing fingers, to kissing you the first thing in the morning, once simon’s comfortable, he won’t go a day without being intimate. “c’mere give me a kiss” to “you’re my good luck charm, love.”

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 months

Text

never not mine, m | jjk | "... in your eyes."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

You'll find that you were never not mine. Wandering sometimes leads to finding. Finding sometimes leads to the truth. The truth sometimes leads to pinning someone to the wall and kissing them. But only if it feels right.

part i | part ii | this is part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; sloooow burn; exes-to-lovers / second chance romance; angst and fluff and feels; your POV; smut (nipple play, scratching / marking, handjob, cum-eating / feeding, fingering, penetrative sex - missionary, doggy)

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

The most important lesson I’ve learned, huh… I think I would say that even though this world is difficult, tough, downright unbearable at times, it is okay to be comforted by the small things. I think a lot of people ignore those small things when they’re upset since they seem frivolous or out-of-touch to appreciate when you are having a hard time. But those are the most important times to enjoy them. We should not feel guilty about a small happiness. A taste of a favorite sweet. The sunset sky when you look up. Laughing with a friend even though everything around you feels dark. These moments will become the stars that will light up your universe in this black world.

For such a friendly, unassuming young man in a suit, he had been such a poet.

At first, you wondered if this was something you could apply on to your life. You had asked, it works in reverse too, doesn’t it?

He had tilted his head, inquisitive. What do you mean?

Small, painful things can slowly but surely break a reverie too, if you don’t take notice of them.

Ah. You’re right.

Each conversation had been insightful in its own way. The woman in the white dress. The most important lesson I’ve learned is loyalty. You might not make as much money or be as famous as you would if you turned your back on someone, but money and fame are fleeting. If you nurture those around you well, you will live a fulfilled life. The man with the silvery-blonde hair and white dress shirt. What an odd question. For me… to be proud of doing what I want to do, even if I may not measure up to the success of others. When I was younger, I thought it was more important to reach a massive audience, to have many people see my color. But now... I don’t think that’s what I want. I want to be an important part of someone’s life, short-term or long-term. I want my time to count to those who count. The woman in a tight denim number and lots of colorful bracelets. It’s important to be yourself. No one walks the same path. You might be too much for some but you might be just right for others, and those people will end up understand you best. The last one, a man with a bright smile and black dress shirt that seemed to barely contain his energy. An important lesson, huh? I guess I would say, go for it. Sometimes I’m uneasy or not confident in a new situation, and I have to remember to just go for it. Yeah, I think I’ve learned a lot from just doing rather than thinking too long about it. The only thing holding me back was being scared. But, being scared doesn’t mean you can’t take action. It means you can, because you have the strength to acknowledge your fear.

Yes, well.

Going for it sort of ended in smashing over a million won worth of liquor into the ground.

You couldn’t blame the advice though. Honestly, you were glad for it. You were glad for each and every connection you made tonight with those strangers. You weren’t sure if Kim Seokjin had set it all up or if each one had approached from their own curiosity. A mixture of both, maybe. Before, they had all been only pretty faces. A shallow judgement for each individual’s hopes, dreams, and realities. You were sure that was Seokjin’s plan – for you to see for yourself what kind of world you were in.

Maybe not so vapid after all.

A little silly, perhaps.

“Hmph, well, at least I can thank you for not letting me walk into a porn scene.”

You winced as Kim Seokjin folded his arms. You both had stopped at the end of the hallway with Seokjin waving the guards away to speak to you directly. Your feet were mildly hurting from standing up for so long. It could have also been due to the emotionally draining past hour.

“I had no intentions of that,” you protested.

Those perfect brows furrowed in disbelief. “Uh huh.”

You made a face. “Nothing was happening back there.”

“Uh huh,” Seokjin tittered again.

You couldn’t keep looking up at him anymore. He held a hand up as you shifted your eyes to the wall, crossing your arms too. Mostly to keep warm. And to hide a bit.

“Nu uh, I don’t want to know what dirty things you two were talking about.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “It’s not like that–”

Seokjin cut you off abruptly. “Did it help?” he inquired pointedly. “Did smashing one of my most expensive bottles of alcohol provide the catharsis you were looking for?”

You felt your cheeks heat. “S-Sorry, I’ll pay for it–”

“Hmph!” He sounded and looked offended. “I don’t need money. I have plenty of that. What I don’t have plenty of is somewhat sane people in my life. I watched you destroy public property and slap one of my security guys as if it was a normal Friday night for you.”

You cowered a bit. “Ah… I’ll apologize to him too.”

Seokjin sighed. He was a refined man with a hint of childishness that gave him eternal youth.

“I was glad to see it.”

He laughed slightly, shaking his head. You stared at him.

“I was nearly afraid that dating Jeon Jungkook had broken you.”

Wait.

“Broken me?”

His large shoulders slumped a little. “Ah, it was… It was so obvious. With Jungkook, too. It was as if the light had been sucked out of him. And you. There was a coldness about you that formed. I worried if you could hear all the whispers behind hands. Hoped Jungkook-ah had shielded you from them or, I don’t know, made you impervious somehow. But you could feel it too, couldn’t you? The ostracization. And he had contributed to it, in time.”

He had noticed.

That was enough to touch your heart.

You faltered. “It’s none of your fault. Or his circle of friends.”

Seokjin waved his hand. “Of course not. But it was still there. Hearing mindless droning all day is still a minor annoyance that builds up to a hornet’s nest over time. And I – no, we – spoke up too late.” He lowered his arms, defeated. “There isn’t much I can do, I know. But I wanted you to know that not everyone among us feels that way. Not everyone has their head in the clouds. Not just my circle of friends, but lots of people in this industry are good people with good intentions who are much better at comforting words than I am.”

You felt a surge of gratitude. Maybe for the first time tonight, you felt like crying. You lifted your head to soft, black brown eyes that were the windows to a big heart.

“Thank you.”

He seemed taken aback. “Ah… Right. Yes, you’re welcome,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You bowed to him.

“S-Stop that!” He smacked your shoulder with a mix of panic and defiance. “Don’t be ridiculous. And, anyway, I didn’t even succeed! You still ended up in an altercation with that big-nosed dongsaeng of mine. Hah…”

You laughed a little. “Ah, I’m sorry about that too. It was my fault he was so riled up.”

Seokjin gave you a contemptuous look that would put even the most disapproving aunt to shame. “No, really?”

You tried not to laugh. He was making it very difficult. It was probably the designer suit and corporately-parted hair mixed with his cartoonish reaction. “Please don’t be too hard on him.”

He made a disgruntled face as if he had to deal with an obnoxious puppy. “You should be worried about me. I’m sure he’s back there stomping his feet and being a stubborn little shit. Hah, well. I’ll have security escort you to your car waiting outside. Don’t slap anybody.”

You pouted. His youthfulness was infectious. “Aish, I won’t. I know my limits.”

“If only your other half did.” Seokjin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Go before I change my mind.”

He wouldn’t.

You backed off anyway, letting Seokjin saunter off, and was greeted halfway to the door by a kind security guard who didn’t ask if you were going to slap him. He did seem amused though. He was professional enough to keep it to himself, leading you to a side entrance where a black car was waiting to take you home after a very long and enlightening night.

Night felt different now.

Days felt different too, but the change wasn’t as obvious due to the hours consumed by work. There was plenty of distraction during the day, although you became strangely aware to how the world seemed different. How the sunlight seemed brighter. How there seemed to be a rhythm to the birds’ wings as they flapped away. How you occasionally caught yourself scanning the faces on streets, looking for something.

Someone.

But the sunset is when you noticed the shadows dancing around you. As the day died, you watched people slip from their responsibilities to their desires. A warm meal. A visit to the store to pick up a visual treat or a world within pages. A chance to see a familiar face, ending in a hug or, if lucky, a kiss. Stories within bodies.

You, too.

You found yourself at the movie theater again. You spent a moment, scanning the titles, picking an action movie you had never heard of. Even splurged for the popcorn, shaking it up in the bag with the salty, garlicky powder getting on your fingertips. You spotted a few clusters of friends. Couples. But also a few single individuals that were busy getting comfortable in their seats, placing their belongings just so, as if they did this all the time.

So, you too, sat down and placed your black bow purse beside you, adjusting your popcorn bag to the perfect snacking distance. It was exciting as the lights dimmed to black, enjoying the music score in surround sound, sucked into another world of imaginary action that you could safely enjoy despite all the bullets.

With popcorn, of course.

It felt different now.

It was only after you made your way home that you realized why.

And you smiled.

Another night, you decided to stop by the mall. Not to buy anything really, but to listen to the music at each of the stores. In this day and age of everything online, it was rare for you to make the effort. It was different now though, somehow. Honestly, not so bad. You purchased an overpriced drink and pretended to look at all the clothes as you listened to what was popular right now. Occasionally, you heard something interesting and pulled out your phone to search for the title of the song vis one of the lyrics, the usual way you used to do it. There were definitely apps for identifying songs instantly now, you thought, but there was something hands on and extra satisfying of replicating an old process.

You found yourself in front of a wall of skirts.

You looked up at the colors, the patterns, and saw nothing of what was currently in your wardrobe.

At work, you were required to dress semi-professionally. A lot of single-color blouses, long black skirts, simple silhouette dresses. A cardigan was your idea of spicing it up. In fact, today you were in a maroon button-up blouse with a high neck and billowy sleeves, and your signature long black skirt. Black heels with a cross strap detail, nothing special. Before, while you were dating Jungkook, you had borrowed a lot of clothes, as they had been required for specific events. Transactions. Nothing you personally owned, nor needed to. Even the small, tight dresses that you had purchased for dates you didn’t own anymore. You had donated them all. They had been purchased with the intent to look like a model’s girlfriend. Not to look like, well.

Yourself.

A pink gingham miniskirt with small red strawberries stitched onto it caught your eye.

You left the store with a brown bag with a few parcels wrapped in pink tissue paper and a lighter bank account. Did you know where you were going to wear these clothes? Nope. It was different, buying without a purpose, and yet.

It was an excuse to find an occasion.

You settled on a bench with a smile.

You held your drink and lifted your head, watching people walk past. Seeing glimpses of their stories through the windows of shops. A surprised face at seeing something they wanted. A look of bliss once they took a sniff of a scented candle. A wringing of hands in front of a gift shop, running out of time and paralyzed by decision. You took a sip, wondering if they would be successful. Your thoughts wandered, as they always did. I have someone. Individual realities parallel to yours, with the occasional interaction a demonstration of interaction. Moments that required moving against the natural course for a purpose. Sometimes a brief purpose, and sometimes entangled because they wanted to be.

The question was, did you want to be?

You had become aware of how your line had been. Dulled by distraction, lacking intersections, moving the lonely course without remorse. All the small things becoming a blur of monotony. The roses had become colorless from the coldness that you had inadvertently held onto.

Bit by bit, you were finding color once more.

You stood up with your empty cup, hurrying to find the appropriate trash can to dispose it in.

“Hey, excuse me!”

You started.

A mother with her arm around a small child’s shoulders waved at you. “Your shopping.”

“Oh, sh–sorry!”

You went back, bowing repeatedly as you picked up the brown bag, startled that you had forgotten your quite expensive purchases. The child shook their head at you. You sheepishly laughed, letting yourself be scolded by the kid. “An adult shouldn’t be so careless!” Well, that was a bit harsh, but you thanked them anyway, waving as you parted.

You turned around, returning to your escape route.

Careless, huh?

Maybe the kid was right.

Someone in black was walking down the path. A man. He was walking fast. An oversized grey beanie with dark hair poking out. Body drowning in a slashed black hoodie and ripped jeans. Black boots. Black face mask. It was a bit odd because he was wearing sunglasses inside. Still, there was no reason for you to look twice. He looked up.

Somehow you knew your eyes had met.

You slowed down.

Jeon Jungkook slowed down, reaching up to remove his glasses.

Would your eyes have met if you hadn’t had to double back to retrieve your shopping bag?

If you weren’t careless?

You saw him catch his breath as soon as he knew it was you. You weren’t sure how he knew. Then again, how did you know? This entire adventure had been on a whim. He stopped at a reasonable distance from you, and half-lowered his face mask, as if to greet you. But neither of you could utter a word. You held your small black purse that you haven’t changed in several years. It was a simple design with the designer embossed in very small font above a leather bow sewed flush to the front. Unremarkable, really, unless you knew.

And he knew, because Jungkook had brought it for you.

The first gift at the very beginning. He looked from the bag to you. Wondering if he should comment on it. He hesitated, and you understood why. Two parallel lines. No interaction would occur unless one moved against the natural course and doing so would be, well.

Careless.

“I hope,” you started, cautiously. Something flickered in those big brown orbs. “I hope Kim Seokjin didn’t scold you too much.”

He lowered his head a bit, half-laughing and half-scowling. “I did get a scolding for causing a commotion.”

“It was my fault,” you acknowledged once again.

He shook his head. “No, it was mine.”

You half-smiled. “Wanna fight about it?”

Jungkook raised his head, still holding onto the bottom of his face mask. You could see the mirth in his stance. It was almost as if there wasn’t a weighing limbo trapped between you and him.

“Actually, yeah.”

Almost immediately, you saw him falter, as if he knew he shouldn’t say something like that. You felt a sting witnessing it. He opened his mouth, and you almost heard it, his casual, just kidding, and this wasn’t like him at all.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

You interrupted him before he could add, just kidding. He stiffened, exposing hints of the printed white t-shirt under the tears of his hoodie. You were both occupying space on the walkway. People needed to walk around, some unbothered, some slighted by the inconvenience. His name on your tongue felt foreign and familiar at the same time. An end and a beginning all at once.

I have someone.

So did you.

You smiled.

“It’s really good to see you out and about.”

His eyes widened. You hoped he could tell that you meant it. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat a bit, trying to eliminate the sudden croak. “Yeah. You too. I’m…” His eyes shifted a bit. He was always focused on you, regardless. “I’m glad I ran into you today.”

And maybe that was it.

You were okay with that, though. That might have previously been a lie, but not now. It was probably unnecessary to say. Perhaps you had spoken up for some sort of closure, for both you and him. A chapter ended in some way.

He rubbed the back of his neck, ticking his head to the brown bag by your side. “You came to shop today?”

You held it up halfway with a chuckle. “Ah, well… It wasn’t the plan. Ended up that way.” You noticed the way he intently observed your actions. Couldn’t avoid it, really. You lowered the bag, not hiding even though it was maybe the better thing to do. “What about you?”

He paused. Had he forgotten already? You watched him gain his bearings with bemused patience.

“Ah, I…”

Jungkook looked and sounded embarrassed.

“What the hell,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Actually, I cancelled a shoot last minute.”

Your head tilted. “I’m surprised. That’s not like you.”

His pink lips upturned. You could spot that tiny mole underneath them, right at the center. “Yeah…” He trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. Ashamed, almost.

“It’s okay, though,” you offered. You hated to see that expression on his face. “You did what you felt was right. These things happen.”

He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t cancelled a shoot since…” He stopped.

You waited.

Jungkook glanced at you. You saw a pink twinge dust across his cheekbones.

“Since I first asked you out.”

You blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” You frowned. “I don’t remember anything like that.”

He winced and looked up at the ceiling, rocking on his heels a bit. “Actually, I… I lied. I pretended I wasn’t getting any bookings. Just to spend time with you in the beginning. But, uh, then I felt guilty. I wasn’t the man I thought I needed to be. The man you deserved.” He sighed, yanking one of his hands out to scratch his eyebrow absentmindedly. “But maybe I never was, because then I got swept up in all that bullshit.”

Jungkook looked down.

“I know it’s too late to say such things now.”

He seemed to collapse a little bit despite his tall frame.

“Now, it’s…” He sighed. “I can’t concentrate at all. I keep asking myself what I’m doing. For a while there I kept working in hopes that you would…” He grimaced again, but chose to ramble on anyway. “So you would still see me everywhere. Stupid, huh? And now it’s just…” He shook his head. “I think I should give up.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He took a deep breath and straightened. “Ah, my bad. I went on for nothing.” Bowing slightly, backing away. “I have a lot on my mind. I didn’t expect to run into you and now I’ve run my mouth like a madman.”

“Jungkook.”

His name came out of your mouth before you registered it. He stopped moving, looking back at you, halfway between pulling up his face mask. You struggled to find the words, clutching your unexpected purchases and your racing heart, his first present to you against your ribs.

“Don’t give up.”

You made sure not to break eye contact.

“It’s not like you to give up, you know. It’s my… my favorite thing about you.”

He seemed stunned.

“R… Really?”

You couldn’t help but smile. Nervously albeit fiercely determined.

“One of many.” You relaxed a bit, relieved that you were able to say so. You laughed a little at the absurdity of it all. “Although perhaps we need to stop doing these kinds of things in public.”

Jungkook jumped, seemingly realizing all the people around too. “Ah… Whoops.”

You bowed as you spoke. “Then, I’ll…”

The way he said your name, so soft and dreamlike, made you freeze mid-movement. He seemed flustered, stepping a little closer to you. It was the correct moment to pull back, replace some respective distance between you and him to keep a measure of strangers, and yet.

You let your eyes meet his under wisps of black hair sticking out of his beanie.

“Can we spend a little more time together? If it’s not too much trouble?”

It was. You had work tomorrow. You needed to get home and put away your things. Wash up. Do your nightly routine to unwind. Get back to being a responsible adult with responsibilities living a responsible life.

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Sure.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

You were standing by his motorbike now. His pride and joy, yet you knew it was rarely used in his day-to-day life. For the best, probably, considering the risk. You weren’t surprised to see it today though. He always rode when he felt frustrated or out of it. The walk here had been silent, which you had expected. Jungkook was the king of speaking without a plan. You didn’t mind it, though. It reminded you of good times.

He awkwardly shuffled, obviously realizing that himself now.

“Hey.”

“Uh?” he answered distractedly.

“Why did you ask me out back then?”

He fumbled with his hands a bit. “Ah, that’s…”

You tilted your head, patiently waiting.

“I…” He stuttered a bit. Cleared his throat again. “I just couldn’t help but look twice. I thought you were hot as hell.”

You almost snorted. “Don’t you encounter enough of that at work?” you chuckled.

He shook his head. “No, it’s more like… Um, even if they’re attractive, everyone knows it is pretty for a purpose. They’re all taking care of themselves. Looks are the selling point, after all.” He poked at his own chest. “Me too.” He raised his head to you. “But you’re different. You don’t have to think about how you look will reflect in a paycheck. You take care of yourself for yourself.”

You thought about it. It didn’t seem that extraordinary. “Well, anybody can do that.”

He smirked.

“If anybody could do it, why could I only see you?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You raised a hand to smack him and stopped short. Instead, you let your hand fall and half-rolled your eyes. “Ehhh, don’t try to pull that stuff on me.”

He laughed behind his hand. “Have to try.”

You frowned with feigned annoyance. Jungkook had always been taller than you, even in heels, assuming you weren’t opting for miniature stilts. Still, you always had the impression he was never looking down at you, but up, even when his eyes were downcast.

“Yeah, that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“That look you’re giving me right now,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I knew you’d be able to balance me out and set me straight.”

You squinted at him. You let out a puff of air and looked away, tumbled into memories where maybe you could have been the one to change the course of these parallel lines. “Yeah, and look where that got us,” you muttered.

Sigh.

Somewhere behind you, a car honked loudly.

“Standing next to each other?” Jungkook quietly asked.

Two cars were having trouble at an intersection at the end of the row.

Standing next to each other.

Your gaze drifted back and locked with his. He didn’t try to hide the emotions his eyes. You were quite sure he could see through you too. The impasse remained, not because a bridge couldn’t be built, but because it couldn’t bear to be burned once more. Once more meant it would crumble to ash and disappear forever. You had thought it already had, until tonight.

You tried to reason with the unreasonable. “You cannot believe you skipping work and me deciding to spend a good chunk of my paycheck to mean some serendipitous shit, can you?” you scoffed.

He gave you that brilliant smile that had tamed you from the very beginning.

“You–”

You poked him hard in the chest.

“Ahh!”

Jungkook must not have expected that at all.

He almost fell over.

Your hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his hoodie, dragging him back. His body lurched, slightly off balance, and your elbow swung forward, bracing onto his abs, leaving your faces close enough together for bystanders to get the wrong idea. For him to get the wrong idea. For you, too. You were close enough to count his eyelashes.

Enough time elapsed that you might as well have.

“What… What is with you?” you muttered, gripping his clothes. “You’re so… dramatic.”

He had another piercing on the side of his right lip now. Huh. How come you didn’t notice? Probably too busy being mad at him. Or not staring at his lips in fear of indecent thoughts. This current proximity and shared heat were not helping. His hands were somehow on your shoulders. Probably to steady himself. Or something else. You weren’t sure.

Jungkook stared at your lips.

You didn’t back away.

He leaned down and kissed you.

He must be an idiot to put you both in this position again. You must be an idiot too, because you kissed him back. Fuck it. Your hand on his chest relaxed, fingers spreading out, pressing your lips to his, breathing him in. He still used the same cologne you had complimented on back then. It made you smile into his lips. His tense hands on your shoulders fluttered, one slipping down to your upper arm, the other grazing your neck. His thumb brushing the side of your cheek. His other fingers weaving into your hair, tilting his head slightly. No promises, but.

A dream made.

You tapped his chest, forcing him to break the connection.

“W… What?” Jungkook gasped, his short breath mixing into yours.

“Not… Not here,” you chuckled, feeling your racing pulse in your throat. “I think we’ve done enough public reconciliation. Adding public indecency is not it. Someone is going to recognize you soon.”

Those shadowed eyes watching you were telling you he was ready to risk it.

“No,” you gritted, punching his chest lightly. Surprisingly, Jungkook did not budge and held on very strongly to your arm. “Stop that. Stop it with the sex eyes.”

He grinned. You could tell from the way his eyes crinkled. “Is it working?”

You pried yourself from him with some effort.

“All you’re telling me is that you really like handcuffs.”

“Promise?”

You straightened your clothes and answered absentmindedly. “Promise what?” You looked up to give him an indignant expression. He took your purchases to place them in the back of his motorcycle, giving you no verbal response.

Just a sneaky smirk in return.

“What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Uh…”

Before he could make another sound, you grabbed Jeon Jungkook by the collar and dragged him to you.

It was different.

Just not in the way you thought it would be.

Part of you thought to hold back. Build a solid foundation to see if this would work. Talk for a long while, move slow, step by recommended step. Then again, if you actually believed that, you would have instructed him to take you back to your apartment. Maybe send him off with a kiss and a pat on the head. You know. The complete opposite of shoving him up against his living room wall and tracing your tongue over his moaning lips with his hands gripping your waist. If this was going to work, it was always going to work. It didn’t matter if it was the wrong way or the right way.

This love was either going down in a blaze of glory or start an everlasting fire.

Might as well get on the ride.

You let him kiss down your neck, your hands sliding down to his. Interlocking fingers. Shivering at the sensation of his lips in your skin, familiar and new. Body-to-body. You pulled up his hands to force him to lose the top layers, including the beanie, exposing his toned chest and gleaming tattoos going from his right hand to his shoulder. His hoodie and t-shirt fell to the floor in a soft thump. His hair was different than when you had last seen him. Sides shaven, the top still long, messy black waves due to being crammed into the beanie. He flicked his head back, sending black strands all over his half-moon eyes, glistening pink lips parted in a soundless gasp.

You took his wrists and pinned Jungkook to the wall.

Panting, watching him under you despite looking upwards.

“W… What?” he breathed, locked in your transfixed stare.

It was different, yet it was the same. You could feel it. There could have been many others between the last time and right now. You knew there wasn’t. It was both sad and validating, because you knew how much he hated being alone, but now you knew there was truth to those promises he had said to you between sheets and pillows.

You leaned down and licked a wet, fat stripe over his chest, dripping saliva all over him.

Jungkook moaned, leaning his head against the wall.

“You belong to me,” you whispered over his heart. Raised your head and he was looking back at you.

Only you.

“I belong to you,” he whispered back.

You skimmed your lips over his skin.

“Prove it to me.”

He surrendered.

To your tongue, tracing patterns over his collarbones. To your lips, dotting kisses and making him flinch, whining for more. To your hands, holding him down and at your mercy, exploring him with sight, touch, and taste. You let go of one of his wrists to trail your nails over his abdomen, observing the way his body rippled, lifting towards you as sensitivity increased. You let your fingers wander, around his waist and into shaded territory, running your nails down his spine, watching his reaction. His head tilted back, hair in wisps around his temples, dark eyes clouded in lust.

Your name slipped from his lips.

You dug your nails into his lower back and pulled yourself up, unable to keep the side of your lips from curving upwards at his delicious whines.

“Take off my blouse.”

His fingertips slid across the slinky maroon fabric. Button by button, the fabric began to unravel in his hands, your forehead to his as he did so. You took his breath, tracing his muscles, murmuring his name just to feel him shiver as he heard it.

“I never had anyone else after you,” he mumbled, circling one of the buttons with his thumb. “I couldn’t.”

“You could have,” you hummed. “You were a free man.”

Jungkook undid the last button and stared into your eyes.

“No, I’m not.”

You half-smiled. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

He leaned in again, brushing your lips with his.

“I belong to you.”

His touch, his kiss, the dance of mesmerizing senses. You stepped back. He followed. Tangled in each other, your blouse slipping off and dropping to the floor. Your bra unclasped, tumbling, his hands all over, places he had been a million times and desiring forevermore, squeezing your breasts with his hands, almost tripping over your skirt as you stepped out of it. His pants joined the trail of passion, and then his tongue was on you, lifting you in his arms and tasting your hard nipples with your hands in his hair, clutching his head for support with your legs around his waist.

“I’m going to fall,” you gasped, breathless.

“Over my dead body,” was the muffled answer with his face buried into your breasts. “Fuck, I love your ass.”

Perhaps to avoid death getting two for the price of one, Jungkook let you down, devouring you with kisses with your taste lingering on his lips, sinking his fingers into the soft curves. You curled your tongue against his, making him moan, hips grinding against hips, feeling his insistent hardness against your softness, trapping himself between your legs. You were still in your panties and he was still in his boxer briefs, although the thin fabrics were merely a nuisance to the inevitable.

“Jungkook…”

He was thrusting into you and jamming his cock in between your thighs, his strong arms wrapped around you and his teeth on your shoulder. You hummed, torn between telling him off and enjoying the feeling of his arousal swelling between your legs, but it was he who gasped and threw his head back, his hard length twitching against your clothed pussy.

“You ready to include me in this?” you questioned, amused.

“S-Sorry… Can’t help myself…”

Somehow, by instinct and minor effort, you were both in his bedroom now. The familiar bed you had once called yours, remembering the future dreamed upon those white sheets. Jungkook pulled you to them, calling you to the paradise that could only be created between two. Don’t, was your meek protest as he pulled down your panties and kneaded your thighs, shaking his head, I don’t care, and his tongue slid over your heat. Wet, dripping, your sweet taste and his saliva. He moaned between your legs, decorating you with kisses before sliding his tongue over you, drinking you desperately, you taste so fucking good, fuck, and your fingers buried into the sheets. He remembered everything you liked. Steady, soft licks, then harder when your legs tensed, tipping his head to bring his lips around your clit, drenching his chin with your wetness.

His hands turned and slipped under your legs, dragging you to his face by your ass.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook…”

You reached down and gripped his hair as you came on his face, his muffled gasp of surprise drowned out by the moan produced through your arched back and prolonged euphoria. Fuck. Fuck, it hadn’t been evident how much you missed this, no, him, your knuckles against the crown of his head, his hot tongue all over, his fingers locked onto your ass, even the way his nose brushed against your oversensitive clit as he thrust his tongue into your pussy, triggering another wave of pleasure, sparking electricity that burned through your veins.

His.

He pulled himself up with a groan, his mouth all over your body. Leaving bites, kisses, licks in his lustful wake. Your nails dug into his shoulder and he made that whimper you loved, obviously wanting more, and so you clawed his upper back as he pretended to resist you, refusing to move higher as he sucked on your nipples, gazing at you under half-lidded eyes, rubbing your other nipple between his fingers.

“Take it,” you growled under your breath.

He did, rubbing his hard, neglected cock against your thigh, denying himself longer.

Over time, you had hesitated to do such things. Jungkook had gotten in trouble before for being marked up. After all, his body was his selling point, and booking back-to-back shoots with poor choices in between ended up in humiliation. Unjustly so, perhaps, but you never did it again. Maybe you should have been more considerate this time too, but, no, that wasn’t what he was asking for.

He wanted the consequences of you.

He brought his face close to yours, your orgasm still on his breath.

“Mark me,” Jungkook demanded, his voice low and deep and gravelly. “I’m yours.”

So you did.

Hickeys on his perfect neck, sharp nails over his ass as you pushed down his underwear, adorning him with fierce, vicious passion that bruised him. He kissed your forehead, buried his fingers in your hair, and pinned you to him, pre-cum dripping onto your hip as he kicked off his restraints, pressing his hardness to you.

“You’ll get in trouble,” you warned even though the damage was already done.

“I don’t care,” he retorted, his thigh rubbing against your still-wet pussy. “I don’t care if I have to cancel the rest of the week. I don’t care if I never work in the modeling industry again. The only thing I care about is making sure you always know how much I love you.”

You froze, your lips above the inked floral mandala on his right shoulder.

“I should have made time.”

His arms drew up and encircled your head, his lips against the crown.

“I’m so, so sorry for not realizing how disrespectful I was to you. And I won’t do it again,” he murmured, leaving kisses intertwined with your hair. “I promise.”

“I…”

You reached up and held his shoulders, anchored despite the turbulence of an emotional sea.

“I missed being by your side, Jungkook.”

If his hard dick wasn’t literally throbbing against your hip, you might have cried.

You reached down and touched him.

“Ah!”

“Woah.” Your arm hooked around his waist as your hand enclosed around his girth. “I’m just making sure he’s keeping interest even during this emotional breakthrough.”

His cheeks flushed as he realized he had chosen his moment with possibly suboptimal timing. He didn’t have to worry. His body seemed to recognize your hand right away. You could feel the way his cock eagerly twitched on your palm. You cocked an eyebrow. He gave you a the-fuck-you-expect look, and you curled two fingers around his balls, lightly massaging with the pads of your fingers, simulating your tongue. He gasped, gripping your shoulders.

You leaned down and spit in your hand.

“F-Fuck!”

You backed up and slowly, leisurely, spread the slippery saliva all over his cock, letting him adjust his knees to give you a better positioning. Your other arm had moved behind you, lifting your torso up as you jacked him off. He seemed to not know what to do with his hands, foreign objects in his possession before his eye line drifted down. Down. His fingers trailed over your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples as you increased the pace.

“Handcuffs could come in handy right now,” you commented.

He glared at you.

“S… Shut up.”

His cock had throbbed at the suggestion though.

You tilted your head, watching his breathing quicken as you applied the pressure where he liked it, the same pulse every time, not too fast and not too slow, building the frustration with a smile.

His face tensed.

Faster. A little tighter. Your thumb rubbed just under the base of the head with every ascent. He placed his palms against your hard nipples and you felt the familiar snap of his hips, leaning into your hand, his eyelashes fluttering, and for a brief moment you considered stopping.

Then again, these weren’t your sheets.

He gasped out your name and shot all over your stomach and thigh.

Hot, thick cum splattered onto your skin, making you suck in a breath as you felt it, saw it, smelled it, intense and strong and all over you. You were lucky it was on the thicker side, white streaks sticking to your body rather than running off. A painting of perverse proportions. Jungkook stared at his work, still semi-hard in your hand, clearly turned on by the sight. You sent him a questioning look.

“What now?”

Then he shocked you, and probably himself, by diving down and running his warm tongue over your cum-covered skin.

“Oh, what–”

Instant burning tingles spread throughout your nerves at the contact, vibrating through to your core, dripping as you witnessed the milky white coat his tongue. Your hand touched his shoulder, drawing him up, and he was tamed by your gesture, rising, his lips smeared with his release, and you drew closer to the heavy scent, to him. Lips to lips. Drank it from his mouth, swallowing the mixture of saliva and orgasm. Your tongue tangled in his, his fingers in between your legs again, thrusting two fingers into you, following the pull you had on him. Deep, slow, faster as the kiss grew more intense, breath to consumed breath, rolling your hips up into his hand, tightening around him, and Jungkook moaned, getting harder in your hand as your slick arousal drenched his.

“Condom?”

They spilled over the bed in his haste.

You were pleased to see it was the same brand you usually enjoyed. There wasn’t much to be read into that, though, because they had become his favorite as well per your introduction. You wondered if there would be a second first-time awkwardness and you were immediately proven wrong from the desperate and experienced way Jungkook dragged your ass to line up his dick. There was no time to be anxious, it seemed.

“You’ve acting like you’ve never had me before,” you teased.

Those dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like you don’t have the tightest, most perfect pussy I’ve ever been in.”

You half-shrugged. “Things could change.”

He slid in and clenched his jaw.

“You liar.”

You smirked and closed in around his length.

“F-Fuuuuuuuck me…”

You could have probably kept it up if it wasn’t for how fucking good he felt inside you. Just the right girth, and he lifted your legs, deeper, gasping, reaching the depth you liked. Your thighs against his chest. You locked eyes. Jungkook cocked an eyebrow with a familiar smirk. The corner of your lips ticked upward, and the rough, powerful pace began, your hand gripping his tattooed forearm and the other the sheets, losing yourself to the pleasure, pressed between the mattress and his hard body. His eyes closed, your lashes fluttering, witnessing glimpses of bliss, whispers of sweet nonsense lost between moans, leaning your head back onto his pillows, sinking into his scent.

Belonging to him.

His hair flicked sweat onto your chest. Your hand on the bed bent back and shoved the pillows down, using the leverage to lift your hips to his thrust, moaning at the visceral sound of slapping hips, wet and loud and vibrating throughout the room.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he panted out between gasps. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You tried to deliver a compliment back but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Your orgasm abruptly interrupted any coherent though, forcing you to bury your head back and endure the vice-grip of wanton delirium, barely able to gasp out his name as the hot wave dragged you under, your inner walls viciously pulsing all around his length. You heard Jungkook groan and attempt to say something, probably how much he enjoyed feeling your orgasm, he had done so before, however he seemed to be in his own dilemma as well, clenching his jaw and snapping his head down, the muscles of his chest taut and tense, and, in your intoxicated haze, you realized he was attempting not to follow, but.

“Fuck!”

He slammed his cock into you and cursed, throwing his head back as you felt the jerk of his cock spilling into the condom, trapped in your tightness, dragged into the kind of fever that couldn’t be sweat out, sinking down, down.

You stilled, suspended in bliss.

It was a little easier to breathe now. You missed this. Him, specifically. The sex you had together, carnal and intense and unparalleled. Closed your eyes, breathing hard, feeling the familiarity of Jungkook on top of you, spent, sweaty, frantic for round two. He didn’t like stopping if he could help it. It was one of his best traits. You felt him lower your legs carefully, backing out of you with a hiss.

Then you heard a wet, dirty sound.

You opened one eye.

He was staring at your body.

Running his fingers over his still-hard cock, bringing it back to full hardness.

“Let me look at you.”

You hummed. “You’re only seeing one side.”

His dark eyes shifted up to yours.

“Okay. Turn over.”

Desire turned his voice deeper, huskier.

With a sly smile, you rolled over, and scooted onto your knees, spreading your ass for him. You heard him suck in a breath, that’s so fucking sexy, and you flexed, letting him watch, entrancing him with the visual and the obvious sound of your wetness.

“Every part of you is perfect.” You could hear him jacking himself off, hard and fast. “Fucking perfect.”

“I feel that your judgement is clouded right now,” you answered back, muffled by his pillows in your face.

You heard the ripping sound and then a groan as he rolled down the condom. Then his strong hands grabbed your hips, prompting you to let go, and he sank into you.

“Fuck no, it’s not,” he gasped, picking you up by the hips to fully sheath himself. You managed to pull a pillow to your chest to allow ample breathing room. “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can satisfy me.”

You made your pussy tighten around him and he moaned again, his hot breath washing down your spine.

“Then let me satisfy you,” you purred, leaning back into him.

Your ass met his crotch in a loud, gratifying smack, easily locking into a rhythm you both enjoyed. Hard, aggressive, powerful, not holding back, you lifting a hand to extend back, and he caught your forearm, thrusting deeply as he held onto you. All of his power was directed below, the grip on your arm simply a symbol of possession, forcing you to lift your head and arch your back, adjusting to that more fruitful angle, sending heat all throughout your blood and nerves, the tension building, louder, harder, more.

He let you go, and you bucked back against him.

Moaned your name, delicious and desperate, begging you.

It was hard to count your orgasms. They seemed to blend into one another, entangled with the passion and the beat, not wanting to stop even as you struggled to breathe, clutching the pillow so hard that you could still feel your nails digging into your palm. The lust searing and yet not enough, chasing more, wanting more, wanting him, only him, your only, the one that belonged to you.

Your head tipped back, seeing only fragments of your surroundings, your hair a mess over your face.

“Jungkook, I love you,” you gasped.

You felt his hips flinch and he moaned your name, long and drawn-out, his hard cock jolting inside you, gripping your hips so tightly you probably had imprints of his fingertips. There was a flurry of expletives and panting. The haze of inexplicable euphoria settling, unavoidable and desired. You closed your eyes, savoring his release, feeling the radiating vibrations of his high pour into you as he slid down, his hot hands over your back, his shuddering exhales warming your shoulder blades.

Sweat, in small shivering droplets, sprinkled onto your skin.

“I love you too.”

He pressed his fingertips into your rising and falling body, touching you all over, confessing to your racing heart beneath his lips.

“I love you so fucking much.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, totally.”

You turned your head to see Jungkook staring at your tits. You tucked a knuckle under his chin and forced it up. He gave you the big-peepers-in-headlights look.

“Huh?”

“Are you sure about this?” you repeated once more.

He gave you a confused look. “Yeah. I thought we talked about it?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me, but I’m not sure how much I can trust a discussion we were having with you balls deep inside me.”

“Eh?” His lower lip upturned. “Why not?”

You rubbed your temple with two fingers. “Why not, hah…”

“I meant it.”

You pulled one of his pillows over your naked chest so he could focus. You weren’t even sure why he had these. Jungkook slept on one of those stiff cylindrical pillows that was supposedly more comfortable. You weren’t too sure about how good that was for his neck, but sometimes you just have to accept the strangeness of your significant other. He must have kept these for the look of a nicely made bed. Or for moments like this. His eyes went back to your face again, reluctantly. He seemed a little disappointed.

“You don’t think I meant it?”

You saw his eyes were drifting to your thighs now. “It’s not really that…” You considered it. “It’s more… Well, we’ve tried already, you know. Aren’t you afraid it’ll happen again?”

His gaze shifted. You waited, letting him collect his thoughts.

“Afraid?” You saw him reflect the past and the mistakes. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. I’m definitely going to change from how I was before. I can see how my work-life balance was shit, as both a friend and boyfriend. I don’t want to go back to that either,” Jungkook mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it now. I can’t get time back. I was stupid, thinking me overworking myself wouldn’t drive you away, you know, we would have so much more time later… I went about it the worst way. I didn’t even discuss it with you. That was just me being selfish, and that selfishness made me insecure… I don’t want that anymore. I promise you that.” He shook his head and looked up at you guiltily. “Still… I can’t promise I won’t fuck up in some other way. And that scares me. But I have to act, even if I’m scared. Even if your final answer is, let’s not see each other anymore, at least I will have honestly given you my all this time, because you are it for me.”

You shook your head too. “There could be someone out there for you that is a lot more suitable than me. The world is the big place.”

He frowned, exasperated. “No. No, you don’t get it.” He placed a hand on your knee and looked into your eyes. “You are it for me. The world is big place, but my world is right here.” He poked you and you laughed, startled at the suddenness. A smile burst onto his face, holding your knee down, trying to drive his point home over your mirth. “Hey! Hey. I really meant it. All of it.”

You stopped laughing.

Somehow one of your hands was covering his now, feeling his warmth and hard knuckles in your palm.

“I belong to you,” Jungkook repeated, his own I love you. “I can’t love anyone else like how I love you. I don’t care if you believe me or not. Even if you leave me, sure, I might find someone to not be lonely with, but I will only belong to you.”

You held onto his hand, curling your fingers into his palm. “You…” This man was crazy, saying things like this. He affectionately squeezed your knee, flashing that killer smile of his.

“So… Yeah, I’m sure.”

He pulled his hand from under yours and touched your cheek, his knuckles against your skin.

“I’ll go along with whatever you choose.”

Truth was, you had already chosen.

“I’ll do my best too,” you murmured quietly, holding the pillow tightly. “I won’t let myself be complacent anymore.”

From the look in his eyes, you saw that Jungkook recognized that it had become an unintentional consequence of his actions. He smiled, still stroking your cheek.

“Yeah. Let’s be a team this time.”

You nodded, smiling back.

An extended silence of staring into each other’s eyes.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Are you just imagining rubbing your dick on my cheek?”

His rough fingertips grazed over your jaw. “Yeah,” he replied dreamily.

You smacked his hand.

“Ow!”

“Pay attention!”

“W-Wha, what?” He pouted. “What am I supposed to do!”

You grimaced, feigning annoyance but also not really. This guy. “No wonder we could only have serious talks in public or incarcerated…” you muttered.

“Ah, yeah, that reminds me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as he twisted around and reached over to his phone, watching the ripple of his back muscles as he moved. Damn. This guy. He bounced back, messing about on the screen. You were too busy admiring the definition of his arms to notice, until.

“What kind of handcuffs should we buy?” Jungkook chirped, turning his phone to showing you the screen display of a sex goods webstore.

You blinked at him.

“What.”

And thus begun round two.

epilogue

“Hey- oh, wow.”

You stilled, surprised.

‘Oh, I thought you were going to meet me there?”

In your hand was your well-loved small black purse with a bow. Your other hand held the door open, seeing the tall form of Jeon Jungkook gawking at you in his matching denim jacket and jeans. Calvin Klein, the same brand as his white t-shirt under the jacket. That same brand was holding a lunch event today, except one of their attendees was blocking your path, open-mouthed at your hips wrapped in a tight, pink gingham miniskirt with embroidered red strawberries. Then his stare went to your chest, to the emerald-green satin blouse that complimented the little green accents of the mini strawberries, although you suspected his interest was less in the color and more in the way the seams accentuated the curve of your breasts.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I… I left early. I wanted to pick you up,” he was saying absentmindedly.

You gestured to the black car waiting at the front. “I already ordered a car, though. I can’t ride with you on your bike in this skirt.”

“We can get in the car.” Jungkook’s eyes went back down. You knew he wasn’t admiring the delicate crisscross straps of your black velvet pumps. “Damn, your legs,” he mumbled.

The driver of the car was about to watch a live-action porno if you didn’t take action. You set the alarm and lock before stepping out. Immediately, Jungkook’s hand raised, as did his gaze. You looked from the tattooed hand to his face. He grinned, creating sparkles in his big dark brown eyes.

“I ran off, hehe. I just wanted to personally accompany my darling,” he admitted. “Hopefully no one noticed.”

You fitted your hand in his, letting him lead you. “You’re too handsome not to notice. What a troublemaker,” you joked, pleased at his rebellion.

“Your troublemaker now. Where are we eating?”

“There’s a French themed café near some shops. After, could we stop by the tea shop? My dad has a request I need to fulfill.”

“Ooo, I love adventures with my future wife.”

You gave him a curious smirk. His mischievous grin just kept getting bigger, that underlip mole suddenly visible like a secret wink. He had been dropping such hints lately. You pretended to gloss over it even though the discussion of dream rings had already happened months ago. You reached out to open the car door and Jungkook impatiently nudged your hand away, doing it for you so you could enter easily in your heels. It was a very nice thing to do.

Taehyung probably grilled such behaviors into him. Not that you were complaining, of course.

You confirmed the destination with the driver as Jungkook got in the car from the other side, taking care to hook his sunglasses on the front of his shirt. You heard his phone vibrate. You turned your head to see him snickering at it.

“Taehyungie’s mad that I left him alone.”

“Whoops.” You did feel a little bad.

He waved a hand, tongue in cheek. “He’ll get over it.”

Your eyes met.

He had such beautiful, expressive eyes that held the stars every time he saw you.

“You sure?” you asked quietly.

Jungkook reached over and stroked your cheek with a smile.

“I’m sure I want to eat lunch with my future wife, yup. Then I’ll buy tea for her dad so I can get on his good side.”

You laughed. “Sounds like a sweet master plan.”

His black hair loosely styled over his forehead made him look younger. You knew better. Perhaps grown was not the word for it, but you could tell he was becoming more and more of the man he wanted to be every day. Attending events with Jungkook was different these days; he checked on you throughout the night, actively included you in conversations, and even introduced you to people he thought you might enjoy talking to, now to the point that familiar faces would come up to you first before they recognized him. But what was more important was this – arranging quality time to spend together, more communication, and obvious commitment. The pleasant surprise not being flowers or sweets or other material things, and instead his presence earlier than expected.

His laugh at night.

His forehead kiss in the morning, even if you were half-awake in bed.

His silly photos of fogging up a makeup artist’s mirror with his breath and drawing a heart with your name inside it.

He still had a hectic schedule, but now you and him knew when enough was enough. You could finally talk about it before either of you became too stressed out or lonely by it. That improvement was worth that entire roller coaster to get here.

You smiled.

He smiled back, his knee touching yours.

He was still stroking your cheek.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking right now?”

He didn’t respond right away. He just adjusted his legs suspiciously and gave you his most innocent look that indicated he was most certainly guilty.

“Eh?”

You took him by the wrist and slowly lowered it before the driver could notice your partner-in-crime’s suspicious behavior. He pouted at you. The tent in his pants twitched. You cocked an eyebrow. Then you remembered something.

“Oh, by the way.”

He perked up. “What is it?”

You unzipped your purse a little bit and flashed the edge of shiny silver metal and chain.

“I borrowed something from a friend.”

Jungkook looked down.

Odd that it took him more than a moment to recognize handcuffs, considering that he – and you – had so much prior experience with them. His eyes went wide once it clicked. His cheeks flushed red. You smirked and rezipped your bag.

“What the fu–”

fin.

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

inspired by taylor swift's imgonnagetyouback :)

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut

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hazbinwhoree · 8 months

Note

Can you do an Adam x angel reader (romantic) one shot where Adam is at a gig (cus he’s canonically in a band) and he takes notice of the reader in the crowd. Yk just kinda do what you want with it (maybe you could make it a little smutty😏) thx 💜💜

Fucking the Guitarist

A/N: Again, I wrote this high, so I’m sorry for any mistakes ✌️

Warnings: Semi-public sex

(Name) wouldn’t consider herself a groupie by any means, but she did make a point to go to every single performance that Adam’s band put on. She had a massive crush on him, but so did half the girls there. She didn’t feel like competing, so she had never met Adam before, seeing as he was always swarmed by girls as soon as the show ended.

It was another night spent watching Adam’s band, and they had just finished their final set. (Name) slipped out some side doors into an alley to have a smoke. She was lighting up when she heard the doors open again. She turned to see who her company was, and almost dropped her lighter when she saw Adam himself.

He glanced at her then did a double take. “Sup.”

Oh my god, he was talking to her.

“Hey.” (Name) tried to play it cool.

“I know you. You come to every show.”

(Name) was shitting herself. He had noticed her?

“How come you’ve never come up to say hi?” Adam asked, walking over and taking the lighter out of (Name)’s hand. He flicked it open and lit her cig for her.

“Because,” (Name) said after a long drag. “I’m not some groupie.”

Adam was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. “I know that,” he said, handing her back her lighter. (Name) eyed him, taking it and screaming internally when their fingers touched.

Adam held out a hand, and (Name) passed him the cig. He took a long drag from it before handing it back, making sure their hands touched again. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I always do,” (Name) replied.

“What’s your name?”

“(Name).”

They chatted for a while before Adam needed to get back to his band. “I’ll meet you here next time?” He phrased it as a question. (Name) was star struck. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay,” Adam smirked, backing up and making finger guns at her. “Next time, (Name).”

To (Name)’s surprise, he did meet her in that alley again after his next show. And the next show. And the next show. They kept meeting until (Name) would dare to call them friends.

It was after a show and they were talking in the back alley as they normally would. “How’d you get away from your adoring fans this time?” (Name) teased. Adam chuckled but didn’t answer. “I don’t know why you spend time with me instead of getting laid. You’ve got plenty of options.”

Adam smiled, looking away. “Yeah, it would be nice to get laid after my shows more often.” (Name)’s heart dropped. “But there’s only one person I’ve wanted to fuck lately.” He pointedly looked at her and she blushed.

He grinned, backing her against the brick wall. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

“Who-” (Name) swallowed. “Who do you want to fuck?”

Adam rolled his eyes, caging her in with his arms on either side of her head. “You, bitch.”

(Name) floundered for words and Adam suddenly looked slightly unsure of himself. “If you want, I mean.”

Of course (Name) wanted it, she’d wanted this for months. Boldly, she reached up and grabbed his collar, dragging him down to her level. She pressed her lips to his. She could feel Adam smile against her mouth, pleased.

His hands traveled down her sides to her ass, which he lightly tapped to indicate what he wanted. (Name) got the signal and jumped, Adam picking her up, and (Name) locking her legs around his waist.

They made out passionately, (Name) holding onto his horns. When they pulled apart for air, (Name) dared to ask, “Can I see you without your mask?” The question threw Adam off.

“How about we go back to my penthouse?” he finally asked.

That was a big step, (Name) hadn’t been expecting, but they were taking a lot of big steps tonight. Adam set her down and offered her his hand, and together they flew off to Adam’s apartment building. They didn’t bother with the elevator, flying straight to Adam’s balcony.

As soon as they landed, Adam was on her, pushing her onto a couch, not even bothering to go inside. He nudged her legs apart with his knee and settled between her thighs, pressing his erection against her crotch.

They fervently reconnected their lips, teeth clashing and tongues rubbing against one another. When they separated for air again, (Name) reiterated her question. “Your mask?”

Adam hesitated.

“You’re about to be inside me,” (Name) pointed out. “I think that’s intimate enough for me to see your face.”

Adam hummed. “That’s a good point, sweetie.” He leaned back and grabbed the bottom of his mask, slowly pulling it up and off his face. (Name) stared at him starstruck. Adam looked unsure without his mask, so (Name) reached up to cup his face in her hands.

“You’re so handsome,” she whispered.

Adam smiled.

They kissed, and (Name) moaned at the sensation of his human lips. The noise spurred Adam on, who snuck his hand up her shirt to grope her breast. (Name) moaned again. Adam pulled back and ripped off her shirt. Shame, she had liked that shirt.

She didn’t have time to be annoyed about it though, as Adam was climbing off her and tugging down her pants. He pulled her up and (Name) went to question him before she was cut off by him bending her over the arm of the couch. He ripped her panties off too.

He knelt down next to the couch so he was looking at (Name)’s face as his hand massaged her ass before his fingers crept to where she wanted them most.

“You’re so wet~” Adam smirked, enjoying the expressions on (Name)’s face. He slid one finger inside of her, then two. When he was met with no resistance he added a third finger. He watched (Name)’s mouth fall open as she moaned again, burying her face in the couch.

“Ah ah,” Adam pulled his fingers out. (Name) whined at the loss. “Let me see your face.” (Name) turned her head, blushing. “Good girl~” Adam’s long fingers slid back into her and she sighed contentedly.

“Adam,” she whined. “What, baby?” Adam teased. “You want my cock? Can’t wait to get a taste of the original dick, huh?”

He thrust his fingers in and out, revelling in the facial expressions of pleasure (Name) made. “Please,” (Name) begged. “I want you.” Her words made Adam’s dick twitch, and he decided he’d had enough of teasing her.

He pulled his fingers out and stood, undoing his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down, kicking them off. He stood behind her and gripped her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. He lined himself up, and slowly pushed in.

(Name) let out an unabashed moan. “Adam~”

Adam couldn’t go slow for long, quickly bottoming out with a groan. “Fuck, (Name), you feel so fucking good.” (Name) clenched around him at his praise. After giving her a moment to adjust to his size, Adam began thrusting.

He started at a steady pace, but very quickly lost in, pounding into (Name) with no regards. Her ass jiggled as his pubic bone slammed against it everytime he thrust in deep. His grip on her hips was almost bruising.

(Name) was gripping the couch cushion for dear life as Adam fucked her. She realized, vaguely, that they were on his balcony, where anyone could possibly see them. The thought only made her more excited. Maybe she was a bit of a freak.

Adam reached a hand around her and down to her clit, circling it with one slender finger. (Name) cried out, the pleasure intensifying tenfold.

“I’m fucking close,” Adam grunted. His hips stuttered, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “(Name)!” he moaned her name as he came, bending over her to bite down on her shoulder as he unloaded his seed into her womb.

His fingers didn’t cease their minstrations, and (Name) came shortly after with a drawn out gasp.

They both panted, coming down from their highs. They were sticky with sweat, and (Name) was sticky with cum when Adam pulled out.

He slid an arm under her breasts and pulled her up, holding her steady by the waist.

She turned around in his hold and looked up at him, looking utterly fucked out. It was Adam’s new favorite sight.

“Let’s get inside,” he said, bending down to kiss her forehead. “I think we both need a shower.”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #smut

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forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

Hi, how are you?

What about something with Joel being reunited with reader, they find out they're alive those 20 years after (they had been hanging out for a while and were so in love with each other, but then the outbreak happened)

Thank you so much ❤️ your writing is amazing!!

AN | You ordered some fluffy fluff? Well, here it is! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mild spoilers for TLOU 2 (if you squint)

Word Count | 3.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll find love again?”

“What?” you snorted in amusement as you lifted your head to look at the girl lying next to you. She turned to you with a sheepish girl, biting her lip as she shrugged at you, “I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

“You’ve never thought about falling in love again?” a dreamy sigh escaped her lips, but she kept her gaze turned up towards the night sky. The two of you were lying on the roof of her building, studying the stars.

“I don’t know,” you admitted in earnest, reaching for her arm and giving it a gentle squeeze, “for a long time we weren’t really at liberty to think about that kind of stuff. And I guess I got so used to not having…someone that I never really thought about it anymore.”

“So you haven’t had-”

“I didn’t say that,” you rolled onto your stomach and perched your chin in your hand as you studied her, “there’s a difference between sex and love, and sometimes we all need some release.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she giggled, covering her warm face as you shrugged, “I don’t know…I just think I like the idea that someday I could fall in love again.”

“And you will,” you promised sweetly, brushing a few locks of hair out of her face, “you’re amazing, Allie. Someone is going to be very lucky to love you and be loved by you.”

“You’re right,” she grinned coquettishly, “I am pretty fucking amazing.”

“Duh.”

“You’ll find someone too,” she insisted and you tried to play her off, “if you want to.”

“I don’t know if I’d even want to,” you confessed softly, turning your face away so she couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes. You’d thought you’d had it all, and that you’d met the one. Once upon a time, you’d thought he was going to be your future - now you didn’t even know if he was alive, “I don’t…I’ll be okay if it never happens.”

“Everyone deserves love,” she insisted and while you weren’t so sure, you couldn’t deny that her enthusiasm was infectious, “what was his name?”

“Joel,” you whispered softly, the name feeling almost off and foreign on your lips, “his name was Joel.”

“What was he like?” Allie was under the firm belief that talking about things, even if they were painful, was the best therapy of all. You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions all at once.

“He was….he was a lot of things,” you closed your eyes as you tried to keep the pain at bay and turn it into happy memories, “he was a stubborn man, but he was also so wonderful. He was so kind, smart, and resourceful. He was so deadpan and his humor was dry but he was just so funny. He’d do anything for the people he loved. He…was a carpenter, and worked with his brother. He had a daughter named Sarah - I loved her so much. All of them. Things were so easy with them, with him, I…it seems silly in hindsight, but I really thought I’d spend the rest of my life with Joel.”

“You really loved him, huh?” she reached over and brushed away the tears that had rolled down your cheek. You sniffled before nodding, “what did he look like?”

“He was handsome,” your face flushed with warmth as you remembered the first time you’d seen him. You’d fallen for him then and there, and things had never really changed, “he had dark brown hair, it would always get all curly when he let it get a little longer. He had brown eyes, but they were so pretty, all different shades and kinda like warm honey in the light. He had a beard but there were two little patches that never seemed to grow hair. I used to joke that they were perfect spots for leaving kisses. He had lots of freckles, and he was just…lovely. Maybe I’m just biased but he was really my favorite person ever.”

“I can tell you really loved him,” you closed your eyes and let out a long sigh as you nodded, “I’m sure he loved you just as much.”

“I thought that we might even get married one day,” you admitted, something you’d never even said out loud, “but obviously…life had a different plan.”

“I don’t mean to pry and you can stop me at any time,” she leaned in, her voice sweet and gentle. You knew she meant well and that she cared; she’d already shared her entire story with you, but you’d been more reserved, “what happened?”

“The day everything went to hell,” you finished for her and she nodded gravely, “I had been out of town, visiting a friend. Can you believe it? It might have been the worst timing in the world. We lived in Austin but I was a few hours away. After I saw everything on the news, I tried calling and calling but I couldn’t get through - cell towers were jammed. I thought about driving home that night but it wasn’t safe. The highways were all packed and people were already going crazy. My idea at the time had been to wait until things calmed down and I’d drive home and be with my family. I never got the chance. Life completely fell apart.”

“Oh honey…”

“I blamed myself for a long time,” you whispered, “because of….of all the times I could have chosen to go, and I picked that week. It could have been any other week. I don’t know if they tried to find me or just find safety. I hope it was the latter. I hope they got out safely. That was the last day I ever saw them. That morning before we all left for the day work and school. It was Joel’s birthday too.”

“Oh my god.”

“Worst day of my life,” you rolled onto your back and looked at the stars again, finding some comfort in the fact that if they were still alive they were looking at the very same stars, “I just hope they’re okay. Wherever they are.”

“I’m sure they still love you too,” Allie hugged onto you and you held her back as best as you could, “you don’t ever lose that kind of love.”

“Maybe,” you were willing to dream, even if you had your doubts, “but hey, I love you too, kid.”

“Love you more.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d been unable to sleep that night, finding yourself tossing and turning, memories of what had been plaguing your mind. At some point, when the sun was already peeking over the horizon again, you crawled out of bed and pulled on a pair of boots, deciding to go for a walk. It was still quiet and peaceful, and it would give you the chance to avoid crowds of people. Not that you minded people, but right now you really were just in the mood to be alone.

You stepped in the early morning sun and stretched, relief in the popping of your joints as you started your little walk. It was quiet out here and safe - safer than anywhere else you’d been. The sounds of the early morning birds and creatures accompanied you, helping to alleviate your thoughts. You concentrated on your breathing and listening to each footfall and tuning into the world around you.

It worked to an extent and you found yourself feeling better once you decided to go back to town. The place was slowly coming to life and a smile worked its way onto your face. Maybe today you’d clean your place and do all the laundry; a fresh start and hopefully a positive mindset.

As you made your way back to your place, you found that people seemed to be twittering around excitedly. You didn’t know what was going on, but it made you happy nonetheless. Better to be happy than miserable, right?

“Hey, Bee,” Allie ran up behind you, looping her arm through yours and almost knocking you over excitedly. You laughed at her use of your nickname, which coincidentally had come from her because you were always buzzing around like a honey bee, “have you heard the news?”

“It’s barely daybreak and I’ve just come back from a walk,” you laughed and shook your head, “needless to say, no I haven’t heard the news. What could possibly be so exciting?”

“Newcomers,” she clutched onto your arm, “fresh blood.”

“Ahh, yes,” you nudged her in the side, “how could I forget that you’re the one woman welcoming committee? Or is it just the fact that you’re nosey?”

“I am not n-”

“It’s a sin to lie,” you tutted playfully, “we’re all nosey, in our own way. Are these people vetted?”

“Tommy says he knows ‘em,” she shrugged. You like Tommy…he reminded you so much of Joel and his brother, “says they’re good people. Not just some random outsiders.”

“Well,” you offered a small smile. You’d already long given up on the hope that you’d run into them again. But still, after all this time, your heart always skipped a little at the possibility, however slim, “it’s all good to have new people around. Maybe they can even help keep us all safe.”

“Maybe,” her eyes lit up with excitement, “I’m gonna go and meet them - do you want to come?”

“I’m okay,” your smile was meek as you shook your head, “I’m just gonna do some cleaning today. Maybe plant some fresh veggies since spring is coming up fast.”

“Alright,” she skipped ahead, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’ll see you later, Bee!”

“See you,” there was an affectionate smile on your face as you watched her run off. She was so kind and cheerful that you couldn’t imagine anyone not loving her. You spotted one of the local stray cats walking around and purring softly, “you want to come and help me?”

The cat paused for a moment, tail twitching before it took off.

“Me too buddy,” you walked back to your small house, unaware and unassuming of just exactly the turn your day was about to take.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the late afternoon by the time you emerged from your house again, deciding to go off in search of some seeds to plant. Carol had some at some point, so you figured it was best to start with her. You grabbed a bag and headed off towards her house, distracted by the fat, fluffy clouds in the sky.

You definitely weren’t paying much attention as you looked up, instead of straight ahead…and promptly proceeded to walk into something. Or someone, rather. You groaned, at yourself rather than anything else as you offered your victim a sheepish expression, “oh no! I am so sorry! Totally not paying attention at all.”

“It’s okay,” that was a voice you didn’t recognize. You turned your gaze to the young woman in front of you and offered her a small smile. She was no doubt one of the newcomers, pretty and athletic looking with a kind smile, “I should have been watching where I was going too. There’s just so much to look at here.”

“You must be new,” she smiled sweetly and nodded. You held out your hand and offered her your name, “but everyone calls me Bee! If you ever need anything or have any questions, or anything at all let me know. It’s hard moving someplace new, but we’re all friendly here…except maybe Andy. He’s still friendly, just kind of old and crotchety. But we’re happy to have you here!”

“Thank you,” she seemed shy but like she’d open up and get more comfortable soon, “I’m Ellie. Crotchety and old sounds kinda like my old man.”

“You came with your dad?” you asked, just as nosey as you’d called Allie.

“It’s…complicated,” she shrugged, but her expression didn’t waiver, “he’s not my dad, but he’s my family.”

“I understand,” you promised softly, “it’s like that for a lot of us these days. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Hope you see you around!”

“You too,” she watched you go, instantly deciding that she liked you. If everyone in Jackson was like you, they would have no time fitting in and making friends.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were stopped a few more times on your way to Carol’s, everyone abuzz and happy today. And all it took was a couple of new faces.

“Hey Carol-”

“Have you heard the good news?” you crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at her. The older woman offered up a shrug as if to say what can you do? You motioned for her to go on, “the two new folks we’ve got joining.”

“So I’ve heard,” you made yourself at home, as you often did, and went to help yourself to a cup of coffee, “it seems like that’s all anyone is talking about today. I met one of them - a young woman, Ellie. She seemed nice.”

“It’s not just that,” she almost dropped her voice to a whisper and you looked around as if there was someone that she was trying to avoid, “the man with her!”

“And just what about the man with her is the big deal?” Maybe there was something in the water today. You grimaced at your cup before setting it back on the counter. Just in case.

“It’s Tommy’s brother!”

“I didn’t know Tommy had a brother,” you still weren’t following, “is he like a long lost brother?”

“They haven’t seen each other in a few years,” she explained, “but apparently he used to be in good with the Fireflys. Just like Tommy before he and Maria left. Anyway, they’ve always been close, but it’s…it’s nice to see him so happy.”

Your heart skipped a few beats as it seemed to rattle around your chest. Surely, this was all some sort of weird coincidence or something. Similar situations….that was all. Besides, Tommy was a common name and lots of people had brothers. But you just…couldn’t hold back your curiosity, “what’s his name? Tommy’s brother?”

“I’m afraid I don’t sweetheart know,” she gave your shoulder a squeeze as you tried to hide the disappointed look on your face, “I’m sure you can catch the two of them. They’re going around so Tommy can show him everything.”

“Thanks,” you were heading towards the door without a second thought.

“Wait - what did you need?” she pointed to your bag as you shook your head.

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” you grinned, “I’ll be back later. But right now I-I have to go.”

You almost ran out of her house, leaving her staring after you with a confused expression. You looked around for the man in question, but didn’t see him anywhere nearby. You huffed lightly and went up to the first person you saw, a young man who you were pretty sure was named Ryan, “hey - have you seen Tommy?”

“Somewhere along the outskirts near the west perimeter,” he pointed over his shoulder, and you were already pushing past him with so much as a glance back. You walked as quickly as you could towards the edge of town, eventually resorting to a slow run when you grew impatient.

Luckily, you quickly spotted two figures at the edge and your heart almost burst out of your chest with nervous anticipation and excitement, “Tommy!”

He turned around at the sound of your approaching footsteps, an easy smile on his face when he realized it was you, “Bee!”

“I heard,” you took a moment to catch your breath, clutching at the stitch in your side as your eyes were practically glue to the other man’s frame, “I heard-”

“I’m sure you did,” he laughed, an easy sound that you liked, “word travels fast around here. Bee, this is brother - Joel.”

No, no, no. Even now you were convinced that it was all some sort of cosmic coincidence. The man in question slowly turned around to take a look at you. As soon as you were able to get a good look at him, your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. There was no way, right? Right?

The man in front of you was older, with peppered gray hair, more line in his face, and a hardened look about him. But there was no mistaking it - him. This was him…after all these years he was standing right in front of you. His expression shifted through a slew of different emotions as he studied you, trying to process the same thing you were internally freaking out about.

“Joel?” his name fell from your lips so softly that it almost wasn’t audible. When he didn’t say anything at first, you wondered if he didn’t remember you for some reason or something.

But then you heard it - the soft whisper of your name. You were somewhere between tears and shock and laughter and all you managed to do was give him a teary nod. And then it happened so fast - you’d both stepped forward and he quickly wrapped you in his arms, crushing you to his chest, as he held onto you tightly.

You were definitely crying by this moment, burying your face into his chest, afraid that if you loosened your grip you’d lose him all over again. You heard him sniffle as well, and he pressed soft kisses to the side of your head, his heart beating wildly.

It seemed like the two of you head onto each for an eternity before slowly pulling apart, studying each other in awe. You cradled his face gently in your hands as you looked him over, admiring how he’d aged over the years despite the world weary look on his face. You brushed your thumb over the apple of his cheek, wiping away the tears that had pearled up and ran down his cheeks. You really hoped this wasn’t some sort of dream because waking up from it would be a nightmare.

“You look - “

“Old,” he finished for you in true Joel fashion. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips; the sound had become a memory over the years but it all came flooding back to him and went straight to his heart. The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly at your response.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” you insisted softly, “I was going to say you look good. You know, despite everything,”

“You look as beautiful as I remember,” he put his hand under your chin and turned your face up to his. This time it was tears running down your cheeks, “are you actually real or have I died and gone to heaven?”

“I’m here,” you promised, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and giving it a gentle squeeze, “I just can’t believe you are. After all this time…”

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he confessed, harsh and broken. He paused for a moment before turning to his brother, “how come you never told me she was here?”

“I didn’t realize…it was her,” he admitted sheepishly. You hadn’t realized it was him either. Back before the world fell apart you’d only met Tommy a few times and he had changed a lot, “I feel so stupid now. And everyone just called you Bee, and I never thought…”

“I didn’t realize either,” you choked out a laugh in between your tears, “but it doesn’t matter - you’re here now. And I….fuck. I’ve missed you so much…every day. I had no clue if you were alright, but there was always a small bit of me that never gave up hope.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad you found each other,” Tommy offered the two of you a small wave before turning to go back and give you some privacy.

“We looked for you,” he promised as if you needed some sort of reassurance, “for so long. But-”

“Hey,” you gently trailed your fingers along his jaw, “the world was falling apart. We were all lost. None of that matters anymore. This is all that matters.”

The two of you studied each other, long and hard, before he held your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, capturing them in a soft, but fervent kiss. It had been a long time since you’d been kissed and they’d been nothing compared to this. Once you were reacquainted with the touch and taste of him, you let him kiss you until you were breathless and dizzy. It felt like no time at all had passed.

When he pulled back, a look of concern crossed his features, “I-I’m sorry. I should have asked. I don’t even know if…there’s someone else.”

“There’s no one else,” you were quick to reassure him and he visibly relaxed, “there’s never been anyone else. Only a few…well you know.”

“I know,” he nodded in agreement, his hand gently tasting against your neck, “I imagined this moment so many times. But it still didn't live up to the real thing.”

“Me too,” you hummed in agreement before pulling him in for another hug, “I can’t believe you’re here. There’s just…so much to talk about.”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “but right now, I just want to enjoy this moment - enjoy you.”

“I agree,” you leaned in and stole a few more kisses, “you’re about to be bombarded by the entire town so we’d better make the most of it. Luckily, I know a quiet spot.”

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to seduce me,” there was that humor you loved so much. You playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“What if I am?” you teased, “is it working?”

“Always,” he promised softly, causing you to beam at him, “promise me one thing?”

“Anything, Joel.”

“We’ll stay together this time, no matter what.”

“I promise,” you took his hand in yours, threading your fingers together, “I promise.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #tlou #tlou hbo

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mystic-writings · 3 months

Text

closing time | robin buckley

PAIRING — robin buckley x fem!reader

SUMMARY — robin has a crush on you. what happens when you're locked in keith's office after the store closes?

WARNINGS — fluff, banter, love confessions, mentions of panic/anxiety & season three

WORD COUNT — 2,353

NOTES — something short and sweet for my beloved robin!! i hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to leave feedback please! also, this was very loosely inspired by sparks fly by taylor swift

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Robin Buckley was utterly, helplessly, in love.

There was no denying it anymore; Robin was completely in love with you. She would light up every time you walked into class; her heart stopped every time you smiled at her, and spluttered back to life when you’d say her name. Her mind ran away from her every time you shared a shift at the video store, full of daydreams of what you and her would even do if you dated, only to be shut down by the brutal fear of rejection.

But you didn’t know that.

As far as Robin Buckley was aware, you only thought of her as your anxious, rambling friend who, more often than not, spent her shifts making fun of your co-worker Steve and his almost inexplicable lack of game.

Most of the time that she was around you, Robin was forced to ‘act normal’, as if she’d ever done that before. It usually resulted in useless rambles about something weird she’d read about, like gingivitis or how most of the backdrop scenes from Star Wars were actually just still paintings. But you usually seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that took some of the uncomfortable anxiety away. And sometimes, you’d even laugh. A genuine one, too, and it would make Robin’s day.

Tonight was a lot like that. It was Friday, and the typical customer buzz around the store was enough to keep you, Robin, and Steve occupied for a while. But by 9pm, the clientele died out, and the three of you were behind the counter playing a round of Crazy 8s.

“Hah!” Robin said, slamming her palm to the pile of cards. She pulled it back to reveal an 8 of clubs, a proud smile on her face. “Suck it, Steve! Last card,” she huffed, leaning on the counter as you and Steve stared expectantly at her. “Oh, right. And it’s hearts now.”

Steve huffed, glancing at his cards before taking one from the pick-up pile. “Dick move, Buckley.”

“Dick face, Harrington.”

“What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at yours before placing a 3 on the pile.

Robin just shrugged, her lips forming a smirk as she placed her final card down. “I win!”

“Alright, I’m out,” Steve huffed, tossing his cards on the pile. You couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of clubs he had, causing you to stifle a giggle. “See you losers tomorrow.”

“Good luck with that, Steve, ‘cause I won’t be here.” You mentioned, scooping the cards into your hands. “Mom’s taking me to Indianapolis for some family thing. Had to cancel my morning shift, which means…”

Steve, who had been retrieving his jacket and car keys from under the counter, turned back with what you could only describe as a look of horror painted on his face. “No,”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“No! You can’t do this to me, Y/n!”

“I already did, Steve.” You began shuffling the cards.

“But Keith always smells like eggs in the mornings! And he hates me,” Steve whined. “I can’t believe you.”

“Sorry,” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can’t un-cancel my shift now, Keith’ll be pissed if I call him this late.”

Robin scoffed, arms folded across her chest as she watched you shuffle the cards intently. “No, he won’t. He’s practically in love with you.”

You shuddered at the thought. “Ew, gross. Please never say those words to me again, Robin. I beg of you. I think I’ll die, or… contract something if I think about it for more than 30 seconds.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta get outta here,” Steve said, spinning his keys on his finger. “See you weirdos later.”

You and Robin shouted farewells as he exited the store, the bell ringing, signifying his departure. Glancing up at Robin from your focus on the deck of cards, you asked, “Another round?”

The girl nodded, a shaky exhale leaving her lips. You were closing together, and while it wasn’t uncommon, time alone with you was something Robin treasured. And the way you looked up at her through your eyelashes… Robin was going to be combating the butterflies in her stomach all night, it seemed.

The next hour seemed to fly by with no issues.

No customers came by after Steve left, so you and Robin played cards and watched a movie on the big TV hanging from the ceiling until your watch beeped, signalling 10pm — closing time.

The pair of you worked in tandem, one of you counting the cash and working out what the deposit would be while the other made sure that everything looked nice and that the return carts were empty — of course they were, Steve had done them long before he left.

Disaster struck when you went into Keith’s office to finish closing for the night.

The analog clock on Keith’s desk read 10:18pm when you passed it, Robin just behind you. All that was left was to write up the deposit in an email and send it to the regional inbox. It was a delicate procedure, to say the least, but with Robin reading everything out to you as you typed it up made things a lot easier.

“You got that?” Robin asked, hopping off the desk beside you.

You glanced at her, fingers typing away. “Yeah, Robin, I think I can remember how many five dollar bills were put in the deposit envelope.”

Robin snorted beside you, the already-open safe door creaking as she pulled it. Slipping the envelope inside, along with the deposit slip, she shut the door with a loud clang, causing you to flinch slightly.

“And…” you pressed a few final buttons on the keyboard, the computer trilling as the email finished sending. “We’re off! Let’s shut this place down and get the hell out of here.”

“As if I’d actually want to stay,” Robin grimaced as you powered down the computer. “This place smells like…” Robin sniffed the air, her face scrunching further. “Cheetos and B.O.”

You giggled, pushing the chair into the desk. “Gross,”

Robin made her way to the office door, a giddy smile on her face. “What? I’m right! It’s like Keith doesn’t know what air freshener is. Or a shower.”

She pulled on the door, her smile falling as she twisted the knob.

“What? Robin, what is it?”

“I— I don’t know,” Robin twisted the doorknob again, pulling the door toward her, to no avail. She twisted again, frantically, panic setting into her gut. “I think it’s locked!”

“No,” you nearly gasped. “It can’t be locked!”

“Okay, well, I’m turning the doorknob and it’s not moving, so…!” Robin said, voice shaking as she turned to look back at you.

“Let me try, Robin. Maybe it’s just stuck.” You suggested. Robin relented, stepping to the side as you grasped the cool metal. You twisted and pulled, your movements growing frustrated and frantic as you realised that the door wasn’t stuck — you were, in fact, locked in. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, kicking the door. “I can’t believe this,”

Robin’s hands flew to her hair, grasping at her scalp as she tried to calm herself down. She watched you begin to pace, chewing on your thumbnail, thinking of something, anything you could do to get yourselves out of this office.

You were suddenly beginning to feel cramped, like the walls were closing in on you. But you took a breath, eyes scanning the room, landing on the phone conveniently placed on Keith’s desk. “Ha!”

Robin watched you rush to the other side of the desk, picking up the receiver and beginning to dial a number. “Are you calling the police?”

“The police?” You scrunched up your nose, holding the receiver to your ear. “No, that’s stupid. I’m calling Steve.”

“Calling the police when we’re locked in a room with no way out is stupid?” Robin scoffed, taking up your previous state of pacing.

The phone rang in your ear as you sat down on the chair. “Of course it is, Robin. Steve has a set of keys, and there’s pretty much a guarantee that no one’s going to answer a Friday night call. They’re all out busting parties and pulling over drunk drivers. They’re gonna put us on the back burner. But Steve won’t. Besides, he’s not doing anything tonight, his date cancelled on him this morning.”

Robin barely acknowledged your words, mind running wild with the thoughts running through her head. Steve would help, of course he would. Ever since Starcourt, he knew how much Robin hated being stuck somewhere with no way to get out. She just hoped he’d get here quickly. Being stuck in a room with no real way out was one thing, but being stuck in a room with the girl you’re practically in love with was something entirely different.

“Steve!” You practically shouted with joy.

“Jesus,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down, please! What’s up?”

You huffed, leaning back in Keith’s chair. “Look, Robin and I locked ourselves in the office, somehow, and we need you to come by with your keys and let us out.” Steve sighed on the other line. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you Burger King on Sunday.”

“Fine. But I’m taking my sweet time getting there. I’m on the other side of town, if you even care to know.”

“I know where you live, Steve.” You rolled your eyes. “Just hurry up. I think Robin’s losing her mind in here.”

“When is she not losing her mind?”

“Steve,” you warned, sighing a farewell as he hung up on you. “Okay, he’ll be here soon. I think.”

“God,” Robin groaned, palms pressed to her forehead. “My mom’s gonna kill me. My cousins are coming into town for the week and I’m supposed to clean tomorrow and instead I’m stuck here, in a room that smells like death, where I’ll probably actually die! Of, like, dehydration or starvation or something meanwhile my cousin Evan is happily sitting on my mom’s couch eating cookies or something!”

“Starvation?” You asked yourself as you stood from the chair. “Robin, it’ll be fine. Steve’s on his way,”

The girl barely acknowledged you, still pacing, arms flying around as she spoke. “And, by the way, starvation? A really painful way to die! It hurts, Y/n, a lot. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve read, but who am I to judge! I mean, I’ve never starved to death before! Not until now, at least!”

You sighed, stepping in Robin’s path, making sure to grab her shoulders firmly, eyes locked onto hers. “Robin,” you said, eyebrows raised as the girl fell silent. “Steve should be here anytime soon. We won’t starve to death. All we have to do is wait out the half an hour before he gets here, max. We’ll be fine.”

Robin’s eyebrows cinched before she shook her head. “But what if something bad happens, Y/n? Then what are we gonna do? We’ll die! And I can’t die! I haven’t seen Evan since I was 9! He lives in Pennsylvania! Hershey, Pennsylvania! Do you have any idea how far that is?”

“It’s, like, an 8 hour drive, Robin,” you said, voice quiet. Your eyes stayed locked on hers, watching the anxiety swim through her green irises. It was like you could see the gears turning, clicking and grinding to form more anxious thoughts for her to spew out in a breathless panic.

“Not to mention the smell in here! It’s horrible! I mean, seriously, could Keith not afford a fan, or-or some sort of air freshener! And the windows! They’re so small, and they barely open, and—”

Robin’s words ceased when you pulled her forward, crashing your lips onto hers. Her muscles tensed for a moment, eyes wide, until she realised you were kissing her. You were kissing her. Robin barely had the time to kiss you back, to place her hands gingerly on your waist before you were pulling back, sucking in air.

“What was that for?” Robin asked, voice squeaking.

You only smiled. “I really needed you to stop talking.” You joked, a hesitant hand reaching up to brush some of Robin’s hair from her face. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, 6 months.”

“Oh,” Robin said, nodding briefly before she smiled, cheeks burning red. “Can you do it again?”

You smiled wide, nodding ecstatically before placing your hands on Robin’s neck, pulling her closer so that you could kiss her again.

It was slower this time, a test of the waters as you both melted into one another’s touch. A delicate kiss, one that said a lot more than either of you could find the words for. Robin’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, her mind barely comprehending what was happening right now.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away at that moment, so much so that neither of you paid attention to the soundscape around you, failing to hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock — the door to the office squealing as it opened, and the subsequent screams of Steve Harrington.

“What the hell, guys!” Steve screamed, covering his eyes as you and Robin jumped away from one another, lips swollen and cheeks burning. “I leave you by yourselves for an hour and a half and you’ve got your tongues down each other’s throats!”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, sheepish as you took Robin’s hand, leading her past his gobsmacked form.

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than just Burger King for making me see that.”

“Sure thing!” You called out as you and Robin slung your bags over your shoulders.

“Thank you, dingus!” Robin shouted over her shoulder, smiling wide at Steve, following you out of the store.

You huffed a laugh and smiled at Robin, swinging your hands as you grabbed your keys from your pocket. “Want a ride home?”

“Sure,” Robin smiled, relishing the feeling of your hand in hers. She made sure to keep it there during the entire drive to her house, and as often as she could after that, too.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

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#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

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hellfirenacht · 4 months

Text

Wing Man Part 10

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.

5.7 Words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

You had always heard the phrase “speak of the Devil and he shall appear”, but you didn’t think that line was supposed to be so literal.

You and Eddie starred in shock as your shared connection stood in front of the two of you, smiling at Eddie as if he were an old friend. If Chris noticed any animosity in your faces, it didn’t show. Either he was oblivious, or you and Eddie were good at hiding what you two were feeling right now.

“I thought I saw you in the lobby earlier.” Chris said, walking over to the two of you, ruining your moment together. “I didn’t think you were one for the theater since you never did come and see the Spring play that I worked so hard on.”

Eddie looked weirded out by this, to say the least.

“Sorry, I was busy trying to finish the campaign that you started.” Eddie said. “I didn’t exactly have time to go.”

Well, you were really in the middle of this now. You shifted slightly closer to Eddie, looking over Chris. He was almost unrecognizable from his school photos and how you remembered him on that day. No longer the pale and scrawny kid with the constantly pissy face, Chris was actually smiling and it was honestly off-putting. He looked more tan than he had in school, but there was a faint orange tint to his skin that looked unnatural under the yellow lighting of the marquis.

A fake tan. That’s what it had to be. Chris was sporting a fake tan for his role as Rocky.

You should have been Riff Raff. Or not here at all. You thought to yourself.

“Are you still mad that I left Hellfire?” Chris asked. “That was four years ago! Plus, I handed everything over to you, didn’t I? You got to finally be the Dungeon Master, and I got to find something I enjoyed. I think it’s a fair trade.”

Eddie still didn’t seem impressed, but kept his mouth shut. Chris turned his attention to you.

“I’ve seen you before.” he said. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

You blinked in surprise. There’s no way you would have missed him if he came to this show a lot, right?

“Yeah, how did you know?” you asked slowly.

“I’ve been running tech for the show since March.” Chris had a smug look on his face that made your stomach churn. If he was working backstage, that would make sense why you hadn’t seen him before. “And I got to be Rocky for this run. What did you all think of the show?”

“The movie was fun.” Eddie offered, and you had the feeling that he was trying to decide if he should be honest or to let go of what happened four years ago.

You, however, were more willing to be honest in the moment. “I’ve seen better performances.” you said bluntly. “The movie was fine, but I expected more for the Halloween showing. Half of the shadow cast was completely different than before and they didn’t seem to know their cues. Also, what happened to the Virgin Sacrifice?”

Instead of being off-put, Chris just laughed and shrugged. “There’s been some recent changes to the theater management.” he explained. “It caused a bit of a commotion and there were some disagreements. Unfortunately, things like this happen in live theater. A lot of the cast bailed on the show at the last minute.”

That made sense, as much as it disappointed you. If there was an internal problem with the company running the show, it would end up bleeding out into the performance. You felt your annoyance calm down a little. It’s not like Chis was the one to run the show into the ground.

“Well, It’s been nice seeing you again.” Eddie said, as his hand slipped into yours again, “We have to get going, it’s getting late.”

You gave Chris a half-hearted wave and a goodbye, but then Chris started talking again right as you two were turning around to leave.

“Just so you know, auditions will be opening for the shadow cast.” He said. “We’re skipping the next two months to get the show back on track. In case either of you are interested.”

You froze in place for a moment and Eddie noticed and dropped your hand. You turned around to look at Chris, wondering if he was being serious right now.

“Auditions are never open. Even for the understudies.” you said. “I heard that you needed to know someone on the inside to even have a chance at auditioning.”

“Well, we know each other now, don’t we?” he asked with a smile that had too many teeth for your comfort. “I can get you an audition, if you’re really interested. I think you’d be great on stage.” Chris was looking at you up and down, as if considering you. “I can see you as a great Janet.”

“I’ve always wanted to audition.” you finally admitted. “I’ve been wanting to be a part of this show since I started coming here.”

Chris dug into his bag and pulled out a card for the theater, and scribbled down a date and time on the back. “This is when we’re holding auditions. It’s invite only.” he said. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you’re serious.”

You took the card, looking it over. Maybe you and Eddie had been a little hard on the guy. Chris was right, it had been a long time since he was in high school, and people change. You changed. It’d be pretty hypocritical of you to brush this off completely. Everyone here was an adult, right? And this was something you’d wanted for years now. Could you really just pass this up?

“I’ll be there.” you said, without thinking, and when Chris offered his hand, you reached out and shook it. “Thank you.” you added.

Chris winked at you and said goodbye to Eddie and turned to leave, leaving you and your date alone outside the theater. By now, almost all of the movie-goers had left and the parking lot was nearly empty save for a few cars.

“Holy shit.” you said, turning to Eddie when Chris was out of earshot. “I did not expect to run into him tonight. Or ever again.”

Eddie let out a small sharp breath that could have either been a laugh or a sigh. “I thought he just disappeared off the face of the earth when he graduated.” His eyes drifted to the card you held in your hand; the same hand that he had been holding on and off all night. “His hair grew out a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it’s even longer than yours now.” You agreed, tucking away the card into your own bag and turning to fully face him again now.

The mood between you two had shifted from what it had been before Chris interrupted the two of you. Whatever moment the two of you were about to have had passed, and as much as you wanted to kiss Eddie, it wasn’t the time. You didn’t want to force anything after the moment had been ruined.

Dammit, Chris. Why couldn’t he have shown up before the movie started? Okay, maybe you were still able to feel pissed at the guy.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Eddie said, and this time you reached out for his hand instead. Chris might have cockblocked your first kiss with Eddie, but you weren’t going to let him completely ruin the night. You didn’t miss the slight squeeze of his hand as you led him towards your car.

“I know I totally trashed the performance, but I did have a lot of fun with you tonight.” you told Eddie. “Other than him showing up, I really did like spending time with you.”

“Next date, it’s gonna be just us.” he said. “No chaperones and no Chris-es.”

“So, you want to go on another date with me?” you asked, thinking that maybe the moment wasn’t as ruined as you had thought.

“I’ll call you this weekend.” Eddie promised.

He leaned in, and you closed your eyes. Warm lips brushed against your cheek, and you tried not to feel too disappointed. It was still something, after all. The two of you hugged, and you breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, leather, and popcorn.

“Not if I call you first.” you said, finding that line was starting to be a small inside joke between the two of you. You hoped that there’d be a lot more shared jokes together in the future.

You got in your car, and made your way home. Despite the small hiccup, you were starting to feel more confident about the future. Things were going well with Eddie, and you finally had the chance to do something you’d had your heart set on for years now.

Moving forward wasn’t so bad.

Eddie was torn on how tonight went. You had fun, and you said that you had fun with him. He had been ready to lean in and plant one on you to make this feel more official but then Chris just had to show up and ruin the night. As usual.

It might not have been as bad if he hadn’t started talking about auditions and that was what made Eddie’s stomach twist. You had been mentioned enough times that this was something you had always wanted to do, and Eddie admired that a lot. He loved that you wanted to be on stage like that, and if you were in the cast he was sure that he’d show up for you, just as you had been showing up for Corroded Coffin.

But Chris had been the one to make the offer to you with his new muscles and hair that was longer than Eddie’s. Eddie didn’t want to feel jealous, and most of him felt like the two of you had bonded enough over talking shit about the guy that there was no way you’d had an interest in him.

So why did a smaller voice in the back of Eddie’s head feel like this was starting to crumble already? You had talked about changing and being different since you had been in school, and Chris looked different and had pointed out that he had graduated almost four years ago.

“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you had said when he had been taking in the site of so many people who looked and dressed more like him.

You hadn’t meant anything by it, Eddie was sure of that. You didn’t seem like the type to put someone down for what they were or weren’t able to accomplish. That still didn’t change the fact that he was a 20 year old still in high school, while you and Chris were out in the real world working and living on your own. Presumably. Eddie didn’t know where Chris was living and didn’t care to.

It was pretty late in the evening now, and he found himself wishing he could call Ronnie right now. Actually, he was starting to wish that he had talked to her earlier, had listened to her and taken her more seriously a few years ago.

Three more stupid credits and I’m out. That’s what he’d told himself since September when he walked into school for his sixth year in high school. He could coast through most of his classes, and he just needed to push through until June.

1986. That was going to be his year. He just needed to get through the rest of 1985 first.

Just as Eddie was about to go and crash in his bed the phone rang. You were the only one who would be calling him this late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened. You hadn’t been judgemental to his face about his education (or lack there-of) but what if it did matter?

He didn’t think you’d just up and drop him because Chris Morrison of all people showed up with his stupid long hair, offering you something that you wanted so badly. Right? Then again, Eddie hadn’t exactly been the best at communicating with you at all, and he had disappeared on you more than once without notice. Chris hadn’t hesitated with giving you a way to contact him.

Expecting the worst, Eddie tried to remain calm as he reached the kitchen.

“Hey.” Eddie said into the phone, “Get home safe?”

“Eddie?”

That voice wasn’t yours. The last time Eddie heard that voice, Eddie had been covered in blood and soot in Police Chief Hopper’s office. Her voice had echoed so loud that Hopper had even flinched as she cursed him out for ruining a chance for both of them.

“Paige?” Eddie asked in disbelief, as if he were talking to a ghost.

For fuck’s sake, Eddie this isn’t something we can just reschedule I know this was your shot this was my shot I stuck my neck out for you I know I’m at the police station What did you do? No room for a little tarnish, huh? Don’t be an asshole I’ve been an asshole all along, I’m just the last person in Hawkins to accept it Fuck you.

“I’ve tried calling you a few times but you weren’t home.” Paige said.

“You could have left a message.” Eddie’s voice was colder than he meant it. First Chris, and now Paige. What sick prank was the universe playing on him today?

“I figured you wouldn’t call back if I did.” Paige said, honestly.

The clock in the kitchen read that it was late in Hawkins and not quite as late in California, assuming that is where Paige was. He wanted to hang up the phone, leave her on a dead end line, just as she had done to him almost two years ago.

Don’t be an asshole. He told himself. What had happened between the two of them had been the perfect shit storm of events. Eddie had flown, reached out towards the sun, only to crash and burn. He had been reminded of what it really meant to have Munson attached to his name.

Eddie had been the one to fuck up, not Paige.

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Eddie admitted.

“Are you going to hang up on me now?”

Eddie paused. “No.”

“Good.”

“You know it’s... really late.”

“I know. I probably should have called you in the morning but I thought it was worth a shot calling tonight. Besides, it’s not like you have school in the morning.”

He didn’t, but that was only because he was planning on skipping tomorrow because he’d been out so late tonight.

Eddie’s mind went through a rolodex of anything that Paige Warner would want to talk to him about after all this time. Was she wanting to finally know how he ended up in holding? Had her brother told her about how he was now Freak King Supreme in Hawkins? Shit, did he have an estranged child with her that he didn’t know about? They had always used protection but shit happens and who could blame her from hiding a kid from a guy who she had to bail out of jail and had no money-

“I’m sorry.” Paige said. “For how things ended between the two of us. A lot happened after you called and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after.”

Eddie blinked and stared at the faded wallpaper of the kitchen, trying to make sense of the apology. She was apologizing? Why?

“I....” Eddie swallowed. “I think I should be the one apologizing here.”

“Oh, you definitely owe me an apology, too.” Despite her words, there was no bite behind it, no malice. “But I’m offering up my apology first as an olive branch.”

How come ever since that night at the Palace Arcade, everything had started being so weird for Eddie?

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked as he rubbed his face, the evening was starting to catch up to him now.

“For blowing up at you at 4 am when you needed help.” Paige said.

“It’s.. It’s fine. I deserved it.” Eddie leaned against the refrigerator and slid down. His gaze drifted up to the popcorn ceiling of the trailer’s kitchen, picking out constellations in the flaky white plaster.

“Maybe, but I should have heard you out after I had cooled off.” Paige said.

“So, you’re calling me in the middle of the night two years later just so we can talk about what happened?” Eddie asked.

“Not completely. I’m calling because I want to give you a second chance.”

“Uhhh.....” Had Eddie heard that correctly?

“A lot happened with WR Records after you bailed on the audition.” Paige continued. “I don’t want to go into details over the phone, but the short version is Corroded Coffin might have another shot.”

Oh, it can get weirder.

“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie sat up straight, gripping the phone with a grip so tight his knuckles were turning white.

“I’m coming back to Hawkins for a few weeks. I’ll be landing in a few days, and I want to meet up with you to give you more information.”

Corroded Coffin might have a second chance. Not just Eddie, but his band. When Paige had managed to get Eddie the original audition, she had said that only he would be the one to go to L.A. to play for all the suits in the business. They were only interested in Eddie, not Corroded Coffin. Eddie was real.

“You mean, my whole band?” he clarified. “Not just me?”

“Don’t get too excited.” Paige said firmly. “This isn’t nearly as nice of an opportunity as last time. But it is an opportunity. I want to meet up with you alone first to go over the details and explain what’s going on.”

“Why just me?”

“Because you’re the selling point, Eddie. You always were.”

Real. I saw it that night at the Hideout. I saw it years ago at the stupid talent show. You get up there and whatever you play, it’s raw. It’s life or death. And people can feel it.

Had you felt it? Eddie thought back to the two times you had shown up to see him play, you’d looked up at him with an excitement that he’d only ever seen from the rest of his band. Eddie could count on his hands the number of people who he could say were fans of his. Paige had been the first to look at him like he was someone while he was on stage, but she wasn’t the last.

“When do you land?” Eddie asked.

“Early Saturday, but I’m spending time with my family for the next few days.” she said. “I’ll call you and let you know when we can meet up.”

“Yeah.. yeah alright. Sounds good.”

Did it?

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later Eddie. Good night.”

“Hey, Paige?”

“Yes?”

“...Thanks. For bailing me out back then. I don’t think they would have released me if you hadn’t.”

“Just don’t do that again, ok?” Paige said. “And you can give me a proper apology when we meet up.”

Eddie nodded, and then realized he was on the phone and she couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there.” he said.

The dial tone wasn’t as aggressive as it had been that day in Hoppers office, and this time Eddie didn’t slam the phone down on the receiver. Instead he opened up the fridge, stared hard at the six pack of beer, closed the fridge without grabbing one, and went back to his room. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his clothes, and fell face first onto his bed.

Eddie tried to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours, replaying the events of the night over and over and over again like a bad movie. Seeing you, watching the movie, almost kissing you, Chris showing up, Paige showing up. How could so much happen in the span of less than three hours?

Paige wanted to talk to him about Corroded Coffin. Eddie was the selling point. There was no way that WR Records was still interested in him, if they were she would have said so and not even brought up the rest of his band.

Shit, what would the rest of the band even say? Only Jeff had been around for the original demo recording that they had all done together. Dougie had left after that year, Ronnie passed her position off to Gareth.

Face stuffed into his stained pillowcase, he started creating a list of unanswered questions. Why was Paige showing up now? Why was she reaching out to him? Why is she giving Corroded Coffin another shot? Why did Chris have to show up tonight? Could you be attracted to Chris now that he had long hair and wasn’t the scrawny asshole he was in high school? Why did Dustin suggest him to hook you up with? Why did you agree? Why did he care so much that you didn’t remember him? Why did Steve also keep showing up? Why didn’t he kiss you? Wait, did Paige still want to kiss him? Okay, that one at least had to be a no.

Eddie gave up on sleep when his uncle came home, and heard the faint snoring coming from the pull out couch in the main room.

With sleep no longer an option for him for the time being, Eddie dug out his notebooks and instead focused on the mountain of song lyrics and notes from over the past few years. With his guitar slung over his shoulder and unplugged, he would be able to work without disturbing Wayne’s sleep.

Each silent chord and tab that Eddie played whispered through his bedroom. He mouthed along to the words on the pages, his voice occasionally slipping through the cracks as he figured out the rhythm of the lyrics. Playing guitar cleared his head, music always brought everything to the surface one way or another, even if he didn’t realize it.

As he focused on a specific riff, his fingers and wrist moved over and over in a constant rhythm. Even when he messed up, he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers as they slid along the strings. It was easy, it was challenging, it was meditative. Eddie could finally focus.

Paige Warner wanted to see him again to discuss Corroded Coffin. Paige was an ex. Sort of. It had been implied that they were going to make it official when he moved to California with her. They were even going to move in together, even if they would have separate rooms. Roommates who sleep together.

Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t just up and admit that she was an ex girlfriend. Business or not, Eddie was going to have dinner with an ex.

If he were still the same shitty 18 year old from two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal. Eddie would have had no problem going to see her, and it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to tell you. But now, as a less shitty 20 year old, he couldn’t do that. You deserved to know who he was going to see if the two of you were going to go on another date.

He was also going to have to come clean about a lot more than that if things became more serious. That was something that Eddie was dreading. If he told you about Paige, he’d have to tell you about their history together. Telling you that he and Paige had slept together was easy, but what about the rest? How could he explain that she bailed him out of jail after he’d been arrested because a cop was shot on his lawn after two drug mules had burned his house down because Munson and Junior had stolen five pounds of weed from a reefer truck?

Eddie had only told the whole story to one person, and that was Reefer Rick. He hadn’t even had the heart to tell Wayne everything that had happened that Spring out of shame for everything that he’d done. Even Ronnie had been kept in the dark about what happened.

The sun slowly came up, and his guitar and notebooks were bathed in a warm golden light that contrasted the chill of the beginning of November. Eddie hung his guitar back up and gathered his notebooks, setting them aside for a later time. He laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He decided that the next time the two of you talked, he would be honest about who Paige was and what their main history was. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to dump all of his family trauma on you at once when things were only just starting out.

It was kind of funny. Eddie had never set out to be anyone's boyfriend. It had never been a priority with him. Even with Paige, he had definitely found her attractive but aside from seeking her out to ask for her help with getting signed, she had been the one to make any move for anything more to happen. He’d been fine with that at the time, but after spending time with you...

This wouldn’t be easy, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run anymore. When he woke up, he’d call you and tell you exactly what was going on and who he was going to see. Anything about his police record could wait for now.

With that thought in mind, Eddie was able to finally pass out.

It was well into the afternoon when Eddie finally woke up again. He pushed through the grogginess and showered, dressed, and shoved a can of instant pasta into his mouth as he flipped through the limited channels on tv.

About two hours went by before he remembered that you had today off. You’d mentioned that to him during one of your many long phone calls, and he about smacked himself in the head when he realized it. He’d been sitting around and waiting for you to get off work, and you hadn’t even gone in today.

Eddie held the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the dial pad hesitantly before forcing himself to push the digits that would connect the two of you again.

You answered on the third ring.

“No Hellfire today?” you asked.

“Not this time, everyone bailed out early for fall break.” Eddie said. “We did our Halloween special yesterday.”

“Tell me about it?”

Eddie felt himself nearly melting into a pile of goo at the words. You always asked about his campaigns and his band, taking an interest in a way that no one ever had before. There was a lot that he had to tell you, but.. He could at least give you this before he gave you the real reason why he called.

You listened as he told you about how the party went up against a pumpkin creature that had been attacking the town. It was a module he had made himself, and that he’d been working on for the past month between the main story of the campaign. You laughed and gasped at all the right moments, sealing the idea that Eddie was going to make a one-shot for you specifically to play. He couldn’t wait to help you make a character and add you to his table.

Assuming you would even want anything to do with him after what he was about to tell you.

“Sounds like a Scooby Doo episode.” you said, as he finished his tale.

“More like Goober and the Ghost Chasers.” Eddie smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the fridge.

The two of you talked, and it was far too easy to get lost in all of the conversations that he had with you. Every time he told himself to suck it up and tell you who he was planning on seeing, you’d ask him something and the two of you would be off on another tangent.

But then Eddie found his opening, and it was time to talk.

“I’ll be at the Hideout again next week.” you said. “I’m really looking forward to hearing that song you keep hinting at. How many original songs are you hiding from me?”

“We have almost seven by now, but no one wants to hear them.” Eddie lied, knowing full well there had been at least one person before who did.

“I want to.”

Two people.

Fuck, he needed to tell you.

“So... speaking of Corroded Coffin,” he said carefully. “We actually almost had a chance to audition for WR Records.”

“Hole shit.” you gasped into the phone. “What happened? I would have thought any record company would be tearing down the door to get you to sign with them. Or, oh, were they too mainstream? Did they want you to sell out? Change everything about you? Did you tell them to shove it, and that you wanted to make real music?”

Eddie couldn’t help but snort into the phone, suppressing a laugh. “Nah, we uh... well we made a demo tape and sent it in, and they wanted us- me. They wanted me to audition.”

“Just you...?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picked at a loose fray in the tear in his jeans. “They didn’t really like Corroded Coffin, but they did like me. But I blew my chance, and never made it to the audition.”

“Shit, Eddie... that sucks.” you said sympathetically. “What happened?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain to you what happened.

“Eddie?” you asked after he didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to get into it.”

“I fucked up.” He finally admitted. “I did something stupid, and it stopped me from making it to California for the audition. That was two years ago. And last night I just got news that Corroded Coffin might be having another shot at something.”

“Wait really? That’s incredible that they still want to talk to you! And you said it was for the whole band this time? Not just you?”

“I don’t think it’s WR Records this time but a talent scout found me and is wanting to talk about Corroded Coffin?”

“There was a talent scout at the Hideout?”

“No.... my uh.. My ex.”

The silence between the two of you was deafening. For a few seconds, the world went completely still, and silent. Eddie always hated silence.

“Oh.” you said after a while, and Eddie could tell you were trying to process what he had just said. “So your ex wants to talk to you about your band?”

Your voice sounded neutral, almost too casual, and Eddie hated that too. “She- Paige- she was the one to give Corroded Coffin a chance. She paid for the demo herself, sent it to her boss, and got the audition slot for me. But I fucked up, ended up locked up for a few hours, and everything fell apart.”

Eddie wished that he could see your face, would you look at him with sympathy? Disgust? Would you suddenly look at him like everyone else in town?

“That sounds like a lot.” You said.

“Not gonna ask me what I was in for?”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“...Not yet.”

“Are you on some sort of list?”

“No.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“I don’t think I’d be let out if I did.”

“Good point. Alright. Then I’ll trust you that you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Trust. You trusted him. When was the last time he had anyones trust?

“Paige wants to give Corroded Coffin another chance.” Eddie said. “She wants me to meet up with her to give me details. I don’t know what she’s planning on offering but-”

“She bailed you out of jail and is offering you something you always wanted?” You asked, and he could hear something in your voice that sounded almost like defeat. “You should go. It’s clear that the two of you have a history that you two need to work though. And if she’s offering you and Corroded Coffin a chance, you have to take it, right?”

The way you said ‘right’ made him wonder if you were asking something more than just his current situation.

Why was it that every time you two started to find your footing together, things slipped up? How could things constantly be so weird with you when this should have felt easy? What force in the universe out there kept dangling good things in front of Eddie just to take them away as a cruel joke?

“Right.” Eddie said, sounding just about as sure as he felt about this. He didn’t even know what this was.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like it’s complicated and you two need to talk about it.” you said. “Just let me know what’s going on after, okay?”

Eddie knew what you really meant. Let me know if this is going anywhere or if you’re going to get back with your ex.

That was a thought he didn’t even want to entertain. It already seemed to be impossible that Paige wanted to talk to him again, let alone date again.

“I will.” He would. “I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up and what she says.”

“I have my audition next Saturday.” you added. “And Robin and Steve and I are going to have a movie night later this week to hang out. But, I’ll still be at the Hideout if you all are still playing and not signed by then.”

You were joking with him, and he took that as a sign that maybe he didn’t completely fuck up.

“We’ll be there.” Eddie said. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

“See you Tuesday, Eddie.”

With the phone hook back on the receiver, Eddie took a deep breath.

Just when things are starting to get good, huh?

a/n:

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

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#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #wing man

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