#always knew they’d work well together!

[loveandthings11]

Optimistic and sober Kendall, focused and confident Roman, connected and open Shiv, I love them together so much 🥹

[ellecdc]

The Winner Takes It All

poly!Marauders x reader (gender not specified)

CW: slight light angst (between reader x other students), confusion on relationship status, fluff

You didn’t really know what you had done to win the affections of the infamous Marauder boys – namely Remus, Sirius, and James – but you weren’t going to question it too deeply; you quite enjoyed their company.

Everyone knew the three boys were together: Sirius and James were never known for their subtlety, and Remus was the reluctant (but quite pleased) victim of their near constant PDA. 

Somehow, you too had gotten swept up in their affections.

It wasn’t official – in the sense that you and the boys had never discussed what their flirting, pet names, cuddles, or forehead kisses meant in the grand scheme of things – but no one was ignorant to the chemistry between the four of you. The boys were so unbelievably sweet with you, and their attention felt like nothing short of worship.

James’ excessive excitement when you walked into a room left you feeling like you meant something; an overwhelming sense of belonging within his space. Sirius’ devilish flirting, compliments, and obvious ogling made you feel more beautiful than you ever thought possible. And Remus’ small gestures – whether carrying your books for you, ensuring you’ve eaten and drank enough water, and his special nicknames he seemed to save just for you - left you melted into a puddle of fondness. 

And that wasn’t always taken very well by others.

Namely, Emmeline Vance. 

The boys had been known to be quite…open…in their sexual encounters in the past and have, on occasion, included a fourth party in their dorm room activities. This quickly stopped when some parties felt this meant they were included in their dynamic.

Emmeline was one of them, and it appeared she wasn’t taking the news of them seemingly working to include an official fourth to their relationship very well. 

This is one of the reasons you hadn’t brought up exactly what you meant to them; you were not interested in simply being the boys’ next bedmate, and a part of you was afraid that bringing things up would expose the fact that this was indeed their hope.

The other part of you knew that the boys weren’t the kind to string someone along, and that they’d have to be playing an awfully long game if that was truly their angle. But the possibility squeezed at your heart nonetheless.

Emmeline had taken to making snooty comments to you when the boys weren’t around. Lily, Marlene, Peter, and Dorcas seemed particularly bothered by it, but you did your best to ignore her.

But there was a part of you that wanted to scream at her a little bit…you weren’t even technically in a relationship with them! You’d never slept with them, you’d never even properly kissed any of them, and you certainly hadn’t made any moves to make whatever this was ‘official’. 

Another part of you didn’t even want to entertain the situation. You had far more important things to concern yourself with: You were studying for your NEWTS, considering whether you wanted to head right into the workforce or explore further education, and where the hell you were going to live after graduation. 

Unfortunately, Emmeline wasn’t the only one to pick up on your new-found closeness with the Marauders.

“Well, well, well…look what the lions dragged in.” Mulciber sneered from behind you as you made your way up the path from Hogsmeade. You rolled your eyes and kept your head forward; you’d been given permission from the headmaster to run to the village to purchase more potions ingredients, but apparently, so had the Slytherins.

“What? Good enough for those Gryffindor’s but not us? Where’re you running too?” Avery continued with a malicious grin when you picked up your pace. 

Thankfully, you could see the Hogwarts grounds were up ahead, and Lily was there at the gates waiting for you.

“Sod off.” You threw over your shoulder, feeling slightly bolder in the presence of your friend. 

You smiled warmly at the redhead as she threw her arm over your shoulder, sparing the Slytherin gits behind you a withering glare as you carried on towards the castle.

“What’s their problem now, hm?” She asked you, still glaring at the boys.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, who knows. Not happy with anyone associated with the Marauders.” 

Lily snorted inelegantly. “I don’t even think they’ve bothered pranking the Slytherin’s lately.”

“Nope.” You agreed with a pop of the P. “Everyone’s got bigger problems right now.”

Lily laughed but it turned into a groan. “Yeah, speaking of: incoming.”

You followed her gaze to see Emmeline making her way towards the two of you.

“Hello Lily!” She said cheerily before her face turned stony as the considered you, “Y/N.”

You tried to refrain (somewhat unsuccessfully) from rolling your eyes as you said hello to the girl.

“Have you seen the boys around?” She asked feigning innocence, but you both knew exactly who she was on about.

Lily played dumb, though you knew that she knew very well who Emmeline was looking for. “Which boys, Vance? That covers just about half of the population at Hogwarts.” She asked coolly. 

“Remmy, Siri, and Jamie. Obviously. I’m going to ask them to Hogsmeade this weekend.” She shared with a sense of finality. You did roll your eyes at this, and Lily scoffed.

“Well, my first place to look for them would be with Y/N, and seeing as they’re not here, I couldn’t tell you.” Lily spat.

Emmeline narrowed her eyes and looked between the two of you before she levelled a glare at you.

“This isn’t over. I’ll win them back.” She said plainly, and something about her tone caused you to snap.

The Slytherin’s, Emmeline, the stress of not knowing – it was all too much, and you were done.

“You know what, Emmeline?” You said in a calm tone as you looked to the sky. “You can have them.”

Lily whipped her head to look at you bewilderedly at the same time Emmeline cocked her head at you.

“I beg your pardon?” She asked as you returned your eyes to her.

“If you think you can ‘win’ them, you can have them. I don’t want something that can so easily be taken from me, anyway. But you’re competing in a game that I’m not even playing, so either take them or leave me alone because I’ve got bigger fucking problems than your stupid school-girl crush.” You were out of breath by the time you finished; your face was hot, and you were sure it was likely the colour of Lily’s hair, but you willed yourself not to cry as you stormed toward the castle.

Damn being an angry crier.

You were just so tired – this wasn’t a game to you; these were your friends, perhaps more (you certainly hoped more), and it was also your feelings. But what you said was true – nothing that can be taken from you is worth keeping, not even them. 

Lily quickly caught up to you but knew better than to say anything now, giving you the chance to breathe and calm down. You both made your way to Gryffindor tower where you threw yourself haphazardly into one of the plush couches near the fireplace. 

“Fuck.” You groaned as you rubbed your hand down your face.

“You okay, hun?” Lily asked as she pet your head commiseratively. 

You groaned again as you let your hand fall from your head and hang dramatically off the side of the couch. “Yeah, just tired. Of everything.”

Lily hummed in sympathy. “Why don’t you relax up here? I can bring you something from the Great Hall for supper.”

You looked at your friend like she hung the moon. “You’d do that for me?”

She chuckled and pinched your cheek, “‘Course. Anything for you, gorgeous.” She winked, trying on her best Sirius Black voice to mimic what the boy has said to you many-a-times before. 

They really did treasure you, didn’t they?

You sort of regretted your outburst now – you knew the boys weren’t a prize in some juvenile contest; that’s what you’d been trying to point out – but you worried that’s not the way it sounded. What would they do once they heard? And you knew they would – hear about it, that is. Would their feelings be hurt? Would they understand? Would they feel embarrassed to be spoken about in such a manner?

You didn’t have much time to think about it after Lily left, because before you knew it, said boys were crawling through the portrait hole. 

“Angel!” James shouted at you as he found your form curled up against the arm of the couch. He made for you instantly, vaulting himself over the back of the couch sat opposite of you like some kind of living room gymnast and launching himself onto your couch, nearly right on top of you. 

“Hi Jamie.” You said shyly as his arms wrapped around your middle and he dug his face into the crook of your neck.

“Missed you.” He said, though the sound was muffled from the new home he seemed to have made in your being.

“Lily said we’d find ya here.” Sirius said as he sat on the coffee table in front of you. You grimaced in response.

“How was your trip to Hogsmeade?” Remus redirected at your obvious discomfort, taking a place beside Sirius.

“Oh, it was alright. I found what I needed.” You answered quietly, playing with the nailbeds of your fingers. Sirius quickly gave you one of his hands to play with instead. 

“We heard you gave Vance a verbal lashing.” He said as you fiddled with one of the many rings adorning his long fingers. You groaned and let your head fall back onto the couch. 

“Sirius.” Remus quietly (though lovingly) chided. “Do you wanna talk about it, dove?” 

And there he goes with the nicknames, and James’ cuddling and Sirius’ piercing gaze and what the hell were you even doing here? 

“No.” You answered. “I don’t know.” You amended quickly. 

“I hope she didn’t upset you too terribly.” James offered quietly as he moved his chin to rest on your shoulder so he could look at you. You were suddenly self-conscious of how the side of your head looked.

“No. I may have been a little out of line.” You acquiesced. Sirius scoffed dramatically.

“Please, you’ve never been unreasonable a day in your life. You should try it once in a while.”

You chuckled at the dark-haired boy. “If anyone can drive me to it, it’ll be you boys.” You tried to joke, but it came out somberly. 

“I’m sorry if being with us makes things a little tricky for you, with other students.” Remus apologized. 

You snorted. “I’m not sure why being friends with you guys should be such an issue for other people.”

“Friends?” James asked as he sat up a little straighter. You cocked your eyebrow as you turned to look at him.

“Well, I don’t know…We’ve never really discussed anything, I didn’t want to assume…” You trailed off as you started picking at your nailbeds again. This time, Sirius moved to his knees in front of you and took both of your hands in each of his.

“Assume. Assume it all; all of it, everything. We’re yours.” He said emphatically, punctuating each sentiment with a squeeze of your joined hands.

“If you’ll have us…” Remus corrected, and you felt something swell behind your eyes at the faint blush that appeared on his cheeks. 

James seemed just as moved by Remus’ bashfulness as he leaned forward to caress the boy’s cheek. “We know we’d love to have you.” James finished for him.

You sniffled and offered them a tight smile. “I’d like that.”

Sirius deflated instantly and let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank gods. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said no.”

“Die, probably.” James said seriously, surprising a laugh out of you.

“We never wanted you to feel insecure in your place with us, dovey. We’re sorry we didn’t make it clearer how much you mean to us.” Remus continued.

“It’s not that. You make me feel very…” but you trailed off timidly.

“Very…” Sirius continued with a devilish grin. You tried to hide behind your hands but he held-fast. “Don’t get shy on us now, gorgeous. How do we make you feel?”

“Cherished.” You whispered, and you watched as the mirth left his face, leaving behind only fondness.

“Oh, thank merlin.” James breathed. “I thought I’d have to up my flirting; and I don’t know if you guys know this, but I already live at 100% love always.”

“We know.” You, Sirius, and Remus answered in unison. 

“Okay, Jamie. Scoot.” Sirius said as he stood. He hardly waited for James to make room before he’d picked you up and flipped you two, so he was now sitting in your spot, and you were in his lap. “My turn.” He muttered as he put his face in the crook of your neck like James had before. James didn’t seem to mind the intrusion much; his arm thrown across Sirius’ shoulders and fingers rubbing at the baby hairs on your neck.

“Y/N?” Remus asked, and your toes curled in anxiety at how serious he looked.

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?” He asked, keeping his honey gaze locked on yours.

You felt a grin overtake your face as you nodded emphatically. His smile matched yours as he leaned forward resting his hand on your knee and pressed his lips gently to yours. You felt so incredibly complete – Sirius’ arms wrapped securely around you, James gently massaging your neck and shoulders, and Remus’ lips on yours.

Both you and Remus seemed reluctant to separate, but you did. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before he leaned back into his seat on the coffee table.

“Does this mean we get to do that all of the time now?!” James asked excitedly, causing the three of you to chuckle. You didn’t much mind the sound of that.

“There was no competition.” Sirius said quietly from his place in your neck. You turned your head which forced him from your neck as you looked at him inquisitively.

“There was never any competition. Between you and Emmeline.” He clarified, silver irises seeming to bore into your soul. “Between you and anyone.” 

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and ducked your head.

“And even if there was,” James continued, “you’d have won by a landslide.” 

Read the companion piece: The Loser Has To Fall

[thief-of-eggs]

I think, given his… erm, past, that Alastor would view murder as an appropriate form of showing affection.

He does it for all the hotel inhabitants. Everyone who starts to grow on him, who’s wellbeing he begins to care about, despite himself.

It happens with Charlie first. A sinner out on the streets talks a little too poorly about her and her hotel, her dreams, her ideas. She hears and it brings her down for only a moment (she always was one to recover quickly) but the short moment is enough for Alastor.

They find the sinner’s body impaled on the wrought iron fence the next morning. No one fully understands why Alastor seems particularly giddy about it.

The next time, it’s Angel. A client sees him outside of work, and seems to forget that he isn’t owed time he doesn’t pay for. Alastor’s shadow grows behind him, and after steering Angel and the others away, Alaator guides the man down a darkened alley.

He eats the man whole, enlarging his head to do so. He returns to the others with the man’s shiny golden tooth, which he’d spit out after devouring him, and he drops onto Angel’s hand without an explanation.

For Lucifer, it’s a bit more subtle, or at least harder to detect. Because Lucifer didn’t even know that the bodies he’s constantly finding outside his room belonged to individuals who’d once mocked his name. He hadn’t known that they’d belittled him, called him weak, called him a coward.

Alastor knew. Which is why, one by one, he picks them off. His memory is carved from stone, and he remembers each and every greatest offender.

And what better place to leave his kill than at Lucifer’s door? Like a cat presenting his master with a caught mouse, he brings his trophies back to Lucifer, depositing them where he is sure to find them and be proud.

Eventually, everyone figures it out- Alastor was never hiding it, but the others didn’t know to look for it either. They piece together that all it takes is an insult in front of Alastor, and suddenly the offender is missing, or perhaps they come across their body shortly after. Death is so common in Hell, that it takes them a while to get it.

When confronted he’ll shrug and hum, offering a half hearted wave of his hand. “I’m just doing my civic duty as patron of this hotel” he says, casually examining his claws.

No one really knows what to say. They are not used to love that is so vicious, so violent. So damning. Red paints not only Alastor’s heart but also his hands, staining him further with every act of affection.

It’s all he knows. The only way he understands to express his indebtedness to the others, the only way to carve out a bit of himself and present itself to the others for them to adore.

It’s unconventional, but so is everything that Alastor ever does.

And for the others… Well. In a place like Hell-? It’s not exactly a bad way to receive love, so long as it keeps them all safe.

[just-jordie-things]

you want to kiss me so bad! - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3k warnings: none :) summary: "ooh you just want to kiss me" "and what about it?" more info: aged up characters! everyone works as sorcerers for jujutsu tech, friends to lovers, yuji nobara and reader are besties with a gossip groupchat a/n: thank u stef for this idea, it was so much fun to write !!! (obvi i got carried away... classic me) but this one is ofc dedicated to u @delzinrowe here's the original brainrot ___

Normally, (y/n) and Megumi made a strong pair on assignments.  Having worked and trained together since high school and having known each other a bit longer than that, they shared a deep understanding on how the other fights, and normally this gave them a hefty advantage.  Having two capable sorcerers that could read each other like the backs of their hands was a threat to any curse.  Normally.

Or in other words, as long as one of them didn’t completely abandon their plan and start improvising halfway through a fight, they were the perfect pair.

If he gave her some benefit of the doubt, Megumi could admit that (y/n) disregarding her weapon and opting to use the sheer power behind her cursed technique actually meant exorcizing the curse quicker than planned.  

However, now she’s staggering on her feet, her blade retrieved and dangling loosely in her weak grip as she slowly makes her way over to him, grimacing at the heap of dead curse she had to sidle past.  There’s a lazy but proud grin that takes over her features as she assesses the damage, realizing her workload for filing this one would be far less than previously expected, seeing how quickly she’d handled it.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Megumi scolds her as soon as she’s in close enough proximity to hear him.  

He’s pissed.  His arms are crossed, his face is twisted into a scowl, and when he pauses after his question (y/n) thinks he might actually be looking for an answer.

“Pretty quickly, I’d say” She scoffs back at him, not taking his irritation seriously for a second.

She’d say Megumi was a friend of hers, given how long they’d known each other, but she couldn’t say he ever eased up around her.  He seemed to always be wound so tight that he didn’t even relax when they weren’t exorcizing curses.  Over time she’d grown used to his reserved demeanor, and she didn’t mind it, so long as they were still the perfect duo on assignments, she could put up with anything.

Except his attitude.  It rarely made an appearance when she was around- not nearly as much when he was paired up with Yuji- but on the off chance that Megumi got cranky, as she called it, it never rubbed her the right way, and it never went over well.

And currently, Megumi’s attitude and irritation knew no bounds.

“That was reckless and risky and you know it,” He chastised, only bristling further when (y/n) rolled her eyes back at him.  “You need to take this more seriously, you can’t just go dropping your weapon in the middle of-” 

“It was fine, wasn’t it?” She huffed out, already bored of the conversation.  “It’s done, we’re not scuffed up all that bad, and honestly, you should be thanking me” 

“Thanking you?” Megumi seethes the words back at her, and the way the corner of his snarl twitches does not go unnoticed by her.

“Mhm, you’re welcome,” She muses back at him, knowing that her little smirk was going to absolutely set him over the edge.  “I’ve pretty much scored us a half day-” 

“You pretty much just ignored me completely and could’ve gotten us both hurt…” He trails off, his features softening from their contorted angry expression for just a moment as something else washes over him.  Something that makes his face pale and his lips curl into such a deep set frown (y/n) thinks it could form permanent wrinkles if he held it any longer.  “... or worse” He finishes, a bit quieter than before.

“But we didn’t,” (y/n) shrugs back at him, and his annoyance creeps right back into it’s home under his skin.  

Why couldn’t she take anything seriously, ever? 

“We’re fine, it’s done, and we’re heading home.  Why are you holding onto this?” 

He gapes back at her, pausing long enough to give her a chance to take back her idiotic statement and actually take some responsibility for her actions, but she doesn’t.  All she does is look back at him with something akin to disinterest in her eyes.  It makes his nostrils flare.

“You’re ridiculous,” He huffs, eyes screwing shut with his annoyance.  “Seriously, (y/n), one day your lack of critical thinking skills is going to put me in an early grave” 

“Early? But you’re such an old man already,” She teases back, knowing full well she was poking a sleeping bear.  “C’mon, I’ll treat you to lunch on the way back, better?” 

“You can’t be serious for even a second can you?”

“Why would I?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, self preservation?” He snaps back at her, stepping closer so she could get a proper look at the glare in his eyes.

“My job is self preservation,” (y/n) rolls her eyes again with the dismissive comment.  “Maybe if you loosened up once in a while you wouldn’t be so cranky all the time” 

“So I’m cranky for wanting us to make it out of an assignment with our heads?” 

“Looks to me like we still get ‘em” She shrugs.

“That’s it.  I’m not taking another assignment with you until you understand why acting on reckless abandon is stupid and going to get you killed one day,” He spits back at her, and for a second, her brows raise, and she actually looks shocked by his words.  “Does that make me the bad guy, (y/n)?” Megumi hoped he was finally getting through to her, he was so close to her now that when his eyes bore into hers she could hardly see anything but angry blue oceans crashing behind them.

With another roll of her eyes and a short giggle right in her face she scrunches up her nose and gives him the greatest, wittiest line she could come up with to diffuse the rising tension.

“Ooh, ‘gumi you just want to kiss me” 

What she doesn’t expect is that with all of his anger and frustration brewing, Megumi had been pushed past a brink she’d never seen him reach before.  

“And what about it?” He snaps, brows furrowed with his anger, mouth still pulled into a frown.  (y/n’s) eyes widen at the response

So in a moment of pure vexation and poor decision making skills, Megumi’s shifting gears and muttering, “Fuck it” 

Next thing she knows his hands have seized her cheeks and they’re soft and warm but so firm as he yanks her forward while dipping his head to her height.  Is he going to kiss me? Is the first stupid thought that runs through her muddled mind before his lips are slamming against hers.

Her eyes are as wide as saucers before she truly registers how soft and warm and pleasant his lips feel against hers, and she finds herself giving into the whirlwind moment sooner than expected.  Her lashes flutter before falling shut, and it seems that she’s just as soon floating ten feet in the air, lifted by an invisible force.  One foot pops into the air, the other extending on to the tips of her toes to better reach him, sending her hands against his chest.

He rendered her breathless in the matter of instant, which she blamed on both the surprise and the passion behind his kiss.  She can vaguely make out the feeling of his hands moving from her jaw into her hair, but just as his fingertips graze the nape of her neck and she hums in delight.

That little noise was her downfall, because as soon as the sweet sound hits Megumi’s ears, he’s pulled out of his reverie and instantly pulls away from the kiss.

(y/n) has to gasp for air once they’re parted, but it takes her a minute to gather her senses and open her eyes.

Megumi’s frozen, his hands still cupped around the back of her head, his lips parted but no words or air was coming out.  All he can do is stare at her with the shock of what he’d done sinking in.

No words are exchanged.

She stares at him expectantly, waiting for something, anything, but it doesn’t come.  Megumi releases her before putting as large of a step of distance between.  If he won’t say anything, she knows she has to… but all she can do is gape as he takes another step away and quickly pulls out his phone to check on their ride back to Jujutsu Tech.

It stays silent as they wait for their car.

Even their exchange with their assigned manager is uncomfortable.

With Megumi still choosing the silent route, she’s left no other choice.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and rapidly begins to type.

[y/n]: S.O.S EMERGENCY !!!!!!

[yuwuji]: OMG DID U DIE ON UR MISSION D:

[y/n]: NO WORSE [y/n]: MEGUMI KISSED ME

[nocapybara]: W H A T

[yuwuji]: oh shit :D

[nocapybara]: what happened [nocapybara]: did you kiss back

[yuwuji]: was it good???

The incoming texts from her go-to groupchat for panic spamming shot up so fast she’s barely finished reading one before another appears on her screen.  At least it was serving the purpose of keeping her distracted in the tense car ride.

[y/n]: he got mad at me 

[yuwuji]: aww again??? :(

[y/n]: and then i said ‘you wanna kiss me so bad’ and he was all ‘so what?’ abt it and then he just…. fuckin kissed me

[nocapybara]: oh shit he actually made a move????

[yuwuji]: damn that’s actually such a good line 

[nocapybara]: no it’s not, megumi’s just dumb  [nocapybara]: and u didn’t answer my question (y/n/n)!!

[yuwuji]: or mine! >:3

[y/n]: i might’ve kissed back a little… [y/n]: and it might’ve been…. the best kiss of my whole life

[nocapybara]: how much is a little??

[yuwuji]: aww megumi is a good kisser <3 good 4 him

[y/n]: uhh my foot might’ve popped up like in the movies 

[nocapybara]: oh shiiiiiit so it was a KISS kiss

[y/n]: yeah. it was a kiss kiss.

[yuwuji]: and u kissed back?? are u guys boyfriend girlfriend now??

[y/n]: he didn’t say anything after

[nocapybara]: WUT???

[yuwuji]: HEH???

[y/n]: I KNOW THATS WHY IM FREAKING OUT U GUYS ITS SO AWKWARD WTF DO I DO HE DIDNT SAY ANYTHING AND NOW IM STUCK IN THIS CAR WITH HIM HELP MEEEE

[nocapybara]: HES A COWARD !!!

[yuwuji]: did you say anything??

[y/n]: no!! what am i supposed to say??? he kissed me his first!! this is HIS FAULT!!!

[nocapybara]: damn right!!

[yuwuji]: no!! :( [yuwuji]: maybe he’s just shy and doesn’t know what to say

[nocapybara]: sthu he’s an adult, he can voice is widdle feelings >:/

[y/n]: i don’t think he has feelings for me.  I think it was a mistake.   [y/n]: idk what’s worse tbh

[yuwuji]: … r u sure ? 

[noapybara]: what do you know.

[yuwuji]: no nothing i just meant he’s shy and awkward

[y/n]: VERY AWKWARD YEAH I GOT THAT

[nocapybara]: yuji ur his best friend.  u definitely know something.  spill. does he have the hots for (y/n/n) or not

[yuwuji]: hey i don’t spill secrets!!!!

[nocapybara]: SO THERE ARE SECRETS TO SPILL THEN????

With every new message, (y/n) felt her heart pounding in her chest a little harder.  She hoped the radio was loud enough to drown out the sound of it.  They were still a couple of minutes away from Jujutsu Tech, and she needed a solution by the time they got there.  She had a feeling that if she didn’t come up with a plan and fast, then Megumi would continue to ignore her, and it would never be brought up again.

[yuwuji]: well… i guess it’s not a secret that he talks about her a lot… 

It was easy to mistake Megumi’s silence for disinterest- and at first, he would say that he was ignoring the entire thing.  He didn’t have an ounce of desire to bring it up in front of present company, but after a few minutes of riding in silence, he thought maybe ignoring it forever was his best option.  It was just an accident, people caught up in the moment all the time, right? What was one little… perfect… kiss anyways? 

Suddenly watching all the trees passing by the window made his stomach twist with nausea, and Megumi had to redirect his gaze to the back of the headrest in front of him.

It wasn’t right of him to kiss her, if he really thought about it.  He’d never even confessed to her- and to just kiss her like that? Megumi could barely recognize himself.  He was never so brazen, he was always the reserved, calculated one.  He was the one that thought things through before making a final decision, he was never brash, never bold, and he would never make a move on someone without telling them properly how he felt…

His stomach lurched again.  Was he getting carsick? 

He’d never really considered telling (y/n) about his feelings for her before.  Sure, he’d known for a while that she wasn’t like the others, she was different, special, held in a different, more secluded place in his heart away from all the others.  If he was being honest with himself, he’d probably felt that way since high school.  The problem was Megumi was always realistic when evaluating his options, so when his feelings for her were fully realized, he’d weighed his options and decided that the potential of losing a friend and a phenomenal partner over a confession would be pathetic.

So he packed his feelings up in a box and left it in the back of his mind.  And that box would just have to stay there.

The ping of his phone drew him out of his spiraling, stomachache-inducing thoughts.

[itadori]: yo u kissed (y/n)?? hell yeah!!!

It felt like his heart imploded, and all of the air in his lungs was sucked out before he could try to gasp to preserve it.  His eyes nearly bore a hole through the screen of his phone before his head shot up, peeking at the front seat where (y/n) sat, typing away on her phone.  He couldn’t see who she was texting, but he didn’t need to, because the recipient of her texts just told on himself.

Now he was sure he was going to be sick.  He made a mental note to pack anti-nausea for the car rides after assignments.

When they finally got back to Jujutsu Tech, (y/n) was swift in her exit of the car and stride towards the building.  She not only didn’t utter a word to him, but she didn’t cast him a second glance.  Her eyes were glued to her phone and her walking pace was, well, she was nearly jogging away.

He could just let her walk away, accept that the both of them would mutually forget about the whole thing.

“(y/n)!” Megumi had to call after her as he broke into a light jog in order to catch up.  She glanced over her shoulder, and her speed walking slowed to a normal pace as he caught up to her.

She’s quick to lock her phone and tuck it back into her pocket.

Megumi lets out a sigh as he gives in to instinct.

“Look, I didn’t mean to do that, and I’m sorry, alright?” 

She stops in her tracks then, effectively halting him too, but it doesn’t seem like it’s because she’s suddenly inclined to focus all of her attention on conversing with him.

“Are you trying to say you kissed me by accident?” She frowns.

“Well, I guess-” 

“Because that’s not a thing,” She interrupts him.  “You kissed me, consciously, and, like, for a good minute-” 

“But I didn’t mean to, you practically dared me!” Megumi argued, only making her scoff and let out a laugh, humored by his ridiculous argument.

“Who cares? You kissed me!” She reminds him with a tilt of her head.  “Are you saying if I challenged you to jump off a bridge would you do that too?” 

“Well maybe the bridge isn’t that tall” Megumi refuted, before frowning and rolling his eyes at how stupid he sounded.  There was no taking that one back, (y/n) was already laughing.

“Just admit it, Megumi.  Some part of you wanted to kiss me, so you did” 

“Not until you admit that you asked me to, technically” 

“Fine! I did ask you to! Happy?” 

“Delighted, because I wanted to!” 

“Well if you’ve wanted to so bad then why are you yelling at me and not kissing me!?”  

“I don’t know!” 

With a simultaneous groan of frustration, the pair don’t waste anymore time arguing before acting.  She all but throws herself against him but Megumi’s just as swift at wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her off her feet and at a height that gives him easy reach to slam his lips against hers.  Every once of passion he’d poured into their last kiss is revisited in full with this one too, and (y/n) starts to get the idea that every kiss is going to sweep her off her feet all the same.

With her arms wound around his neck to better keep herself secure, she hopes that he feels every bit of electricity that she does.

And he does, he’s just a bit too preoccupied trying to balance taking in oxygen and kissing her like his life depended on it to communicate that to her now.  At least in words.  Wandering hands filled in the gaps for now.

It took them long enough, after all, there would be time to talk about it later. ___

a/n: i imagine the groupchat lights tf up after the second one :3

xoxo ~ jordie

[alotofpockets]

Confidence | 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Reneé Rapp x Reader

Summary: Reneé asks you to come to her first day off shooting Mean Girls to give her the confidence she needs to play Regina George. (based on this scene)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut

Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.2k

-----

Reneé usually didn’t have a problem with showing off her body, she was proud of the way she looked, and often showed the world her confident side. She wore revealing outfits all the time, and never really gave a care in the world what others thought about her appearance. However, as the first day of shooting Mean Girls came closer, she started getting more and more nervous about portraying this confident character in front of the cameras.

Of course, Reneé had played Regina before, and knew the character well, but in front of the cameras it was different. On stage she got into character and played the part in front of a lot of people, but they were all sitting at a distance, and observed not only her but also the rest of the set around her. On set the cameras and the crew would be focussed on her playing the character the way they had envisioned her, of course they did the same for the other actors there, but the scene she was most worried about was Regina’s opening scene. 

It didn’t take much convincing on your girlfriend’s end to get you to join her on set for the first day of shooting. You loved supporting her in person whenever you were able to. Supporting her didn’t just mean her music and her acting, you supported her in every aspect of life, and she did the same for you, that is why your relationship worked so well. 

While it was an early call, Reneé still took some time to show you around the set. You hadn’t been to the Mean Girls set yet, and were looking at everything full of amusement. When you were younger, you had watched the original, and you always loved the movie, so seeing the set of the remake made you feel very nostalgic.

You sat to the side as Reneé was getting ready in the hair and make-up trailer, talking with her costars and the hair and make-up team. It was nice getting to know the girls she’d be working with for the next couple of months. 

Before you headed to the set they’d be shooting at this morning, you took Reneé to the side. “I just wanted to say that you are amazing, and you look incredible. You are going to crush this scene, and every scene after. You are the perfect Regina George, and I cannot wait to see the lines we rehearsed together come to life. I love you, baby. Have fun out there, and I will be right behind the crew supporting you.” Reneé pecked your lips, “You’re the best, but shush now or you’re going to make me cry.” You both laugh, and head into the hall the scene would be shot in. 

They were shooting the scene where Cady met Regina for the first time to the song ‘Meet the Plastics’. It included a close up shot of Reneé signing the song, while the camera slowly panned out, revealing more of her. It took a few takes to get the close up right, but when the crew was happy with the results, they moved on to the part that Reneé was most nervous about. It was a shot where she would sensually open her leather jacket and show off her boobs.

The first few takes were cut, “Reneé can you give us a try with some more confidence please?” The director asked and she nodded in response. Reneé looked up to you for some reassurance, and found you clenching your thighs together. You hid it well, no one else around you would notice, but Reneé knew. That familiar look in your eyes, and the subtle movements, she knew all too well. That sight alone gave her the confidence she needed to act the scene exactly how the directors had in mind. 

Once the scene was done, and Reneé had quickly said bye to her co-workers she walked up to you, “I knew having you here would do the trick. Wanna head back to my trailer?” Reneé wouldn’t be in the next couple of scenes they were shooting, so she had some free time. She knew just the way she wanted to spend that free time. 

After entering the trailer door behind you, Reneé pressed you up against it. Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, but a smirk started playing on your lips once you saw the look in your girlfriend’s eyes. “I told you you looked incredible.” You tease, letting your hand drag over her chest. When your hands found the zipper, you undid it the rest of the way, and took off the jacket. Your hands moved up her arms slowly until they reached the nap of her neck. “You are so beautiful, baby.” You tell her before she crashes her lips onto yours.

The kiss was instantly heated, you were very turned on from watching the scene Reneé acted in, so every small touch of your girlfriend letting her hands explore your body sent electricity throughout your body. Her lips made their way down your neck, kissing, sucking, and licking the spots you knew were going to have small bruises later. Your soft moans filled the trailer.

Reneé pulled you towards the bed in the back of the trailer. Only breaking the kiss, once you made it to the bed, so she could take off your shirt, and your bra. “So pretty.” She said before taking one of your nipples into her mouth, and swirling her tongue around the hardened bud. With one of your hands behind her back to pull her closer, and the other massaging her breasts, you fell back onto the bed. 

It didn’t take long for both of your clothes to be thrown onto the ground, and your moans filled the trailer once more, as Reneé drags her finger through your folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby.” Between moans you manage to say, “I told you, you looked incredible.” Reneé chuckled, “Once again proving that you are a boob girl.” Her comment made you laugh, but it got caught short as she entered one of her fingers into you, and started fucking you at a fast pace right away. 

Your moans start to get so loud that you’re afraid that someone will hear you, so you pull Reneé closer and crash your lips together to muffle the noises. You felt yourself nearing your high fast, as she entered a second finger, and used her thumb to run circles around your clit. “Baby, I-” Reneé’s darkened eyes meet yours, “Fuck, I’m close.” Reneé fastens her pace even more, loving the way she can feel you tighten around her fingers. “Come for me, baby.” Her sultry voice brings you over the edge. You moan her name loudly, no longer being able to control yourself as she fucks you through your orgasm. 

You let your head fall back onto the bed, while you come down from your high with a heaving chest. Reneé cleans off her fingers on the sheets, before she places soft kisses all over your face. “You did so great, baby. I should take you to set with me more often.” She says smiling down at you, admiring the way your sensitive body reacts to her soft touches. 

-----

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[gurugirl]

Don't Speak

*images are for aesthetic only

priest!harry x subby!reader | soft dom!harry x bratty/sub!reader

Summary: Y/n accidentally says something in front of everyone at prayer group that gets her in trouble with the priest.

A/N: I know it's been so long since I gave y'all any priestrry but I missed him and his pet so I was compelled to write this! Hope you enjoy! And if you're tagged it's bc you are either on my main general taglist or you asked to be tagged in anything for priestrry (even tho it's been so long) just let me know if you want to be removed and I will! xoxo

Word Count: 2,692

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, religious mentions, smut, sub/dom dynamic, spanking, punishment

Forgive Me, Father masterlist

She hadn’t meant to say it in front of everyone during prayer group. It didn’t have to mean anything if no one read too much into it. She was only responding to a simple question but she said we.

We plan to eat after the meeting.

We, as in the mention of herself and Harry. The two of them doing something together. She hoped they interpreted it as her saying -with someone other than Harry. But she also looked at Harry directly when she said it. Maybe no one saw that.

But Harry certainly did. And the look she received from him was scalding. She knew she was in for it once everyone had gone.

No one followed up to ask who was the other part of this we she spoke of. She wished they would. She could say anyone and make up a little lie. Her brother. Her roommate. Anyone. But no one asked.

And she wasn’t sure if the room felt tense or if it was just her. Because after she said it, she felt like everyone was suddenly looking at her differently. And of course, the way Harry was warning her with his eyes wasn’t helping matters.

So she kept her head down and her mouth closed until the end. And when everyone began to leave, like always, she walked out of the house and to the side to wait until everyone was gone.

And even when the coast was clear she hesitated for a moment. But ultimately going back inside with Harry to face whatever kind of reprimand he was going to give her was better than waiting and wondering about what he might do. Perhaps she could plead her case.

Stepping into the living room she found Harry folding up the metal chairs and placing them tidily in their little wooden cubby behind the couch. He walked across the room without even a glance in her direction and into the kitchen with a glass. Standing still in her spot she could hear the glass being placed in the sink and then his footfalls as he began to walk back to the living room.

“Father, I’m sorry. It just slipped out. I don’t think anyone noticed–“

“Go stand and face the corner. Don’t speak.”

She gulped and gave a quick nod as she scurried toward the corner of the living room and let her limbs fall loose as she waited for the priest to finish what he was doing. She wanted to protest. To tell him it was an accident and to go easy on her but she knew better than to resist.

Minutes stretched on as she listened to Harry cleaning up and moving back and forth from the living room to the kitchen before she heard him approaching behind her and then stopping.

She could feel him standing behind her but he kept silent for a beat or two before she felt his breath at the back of her neck, “Tell me what happens if someone finds out about us, Y/n.”

She inhaled a shaky breath and squeezed her eyes closed, “Well, you could face expulsion from the church. Everything you’ve worked so hard for that you love the most would be gone. Or they’d transfer you and after penance, you’d have to promise to permanently end our relationship.”

The floorboard creaked as Harry stepped in closer and she felt his warm hands at the tops of her arms, “I could lose what I love, yes. But if it came to choosing you or the church do you know what I would do, pet?”

“Father, I would like to believe you’d choose me. But I would understand if you chose the church.”

“Do you doubt how deep my love for you is?”

Y/n opened her eyes and took a deep breath, the plaster of the white wall in her view, “I don’t doubt how deeply you love me. I feel it every moment. But I also know how deep your love is for God and for your vocation.”

“I’m angry that you let it slip out like that so freely in front of everyone. But I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I want you to know that I’ll always choose you. Over everything else. Over my priesthood. Over God. You’re the most important thing I have.

A stray tear escaped her eye as he pressed his chest into her back and suddenly lifted his hands and she felt her red leather collar being placed on her neck as he adjusted the buckle, “Besides, I’ve slipped up too haven’t I? When I thought no one was watching. But you slipped up in front of many sets of eyes and ears. Let’s hope they didn’t notice the way you looked at me when you said it.”

She turned to look back at him to respond but one of his hands gripped the back of her neck, “Face the wall. I’m not done with you yet. As much as I understand it was a mistake, there are consequences for your actions, pet. Take off this dress.”

Biting her lip she silently pulled the fabric over her head and Harry noted she was not wearing panties. He imagined she did that on purpose. She often enjoyed leaving things uncovered in case they were in a situation where he could just take her. But she was cheeky too so maybe it was just to get a rise out of him.

“No panties while we were all sat here praying to our Lord. Fucks sake, Y/n.”

The first strike to her bottom had her wobbling forward, palms on the walls, and bending slightly at the waist. She was used to being spanked and when he did it with his hands it was a treat. She loved his hands on her. No matter how they were touching her.

Another open-palmed swat and then another had her dipping her head and closing her eyes as she braced herself.

She felt his hand smooth up her spine and press down between her shoulders, “Bend down further. Keep your hands on the wall, legs together. Think about what you can do to not make the kind of mistake you made today while I get your paddle.”

A big gulp was pulled down her throat as Harry stepped away. What could she have done differently? Maybe just be on top of her thoughts at all times? Never waver in front of people? She wasn’t sure. How was it possible to not accidentally slip up once in a great while? She had been so good all this time. Never doing anything that would really tip anyone off. The slip-up was bound to happen at some point.

When Harry returned she felt a kind hand rub over her bottom, “You get five on each side and no crying. Once I’ve given you five you’ll tell me what you could have done differently and if you haven’t come up with something you’ll get another five on each side. Understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Count for me.”

Every strike to her sensitive bottom had her keening and gasping. She counted each one, five on each side (so ten really and she would have complained but now wasn’t the time).

“Now, tell me. What can you do to make sure that never happens again? How can we avoid it?”

She took a deep breath, still reeling from her stinging bottom and knowing she was about to get five more (ten more) because she hadn’t come up with an idea quite yet.

“Uhh… I just need to think harder and not let myself really look at you… uh… I can keep my mind sharp so I don’t say things I shouldn’t on accident.”

“No. That’s not it. Count for me.”

The next round hurt more. The smooth leather landing against her sore ass had her arching her back away from him and hissing between numbers she pushed from her lungs. Every one biting a little more than before.

But when she got to her final five (ten) she thought of an answer that she felt would suffice and nearly hopped up with a grin, but knowing better she stayed in her position.

“Have you come up with an answer for me?”

“I can just not speak. I’ll say my throat hurts and keep my mouth closed the whole meeting.”

“That will only work once or twice. But every meeting, pet? You can do better than that. Count for me.”

She let her tears slip out of her eyes as she racked her brain for the answer he might want. Every number she counted got lost in her fuzzy brain and the ache from the paddle on her bum started to numb and the shift in how it made her feel manifested in arousal, which the priest did not miss as he could see her pussy with the way she was bent for him; That obvious glisten beginning to seep out from her labia.

“Tell me what you can do to avoid making comments like you did today.”

She inhaled and moaned softly, “I think that I should maybe not come to all the prayer meetings. I can stay in my cage if I’m feeling a little off maybe? Then I won’t have the opportunity to at all. And me not being at all the meetings would be good I think. Because no one is always at every meeting. Probably good for me to sit back for a while.”

The paddle fell to the floor and she felt Harry’s hands gently caressing her bottom, his fingers gliding over the raised skin left behind from the paddle, “You are so smart, pet. See? That’s perfect. Don’t move from your spot. Keep your thighs together.”

She heard the clank of his buckle and smiled to herself. She loved it when he had his way with her. She didn’t even care what he was about to do, she welcomed him wherever and however he wanted.

When his hands returned to her back and gently pressed over her bum she sighed as he leaned over and kissed her shoulder blade, “I love you. I know you didn’t do it on purpose,” she listened as he spoke and could tell he was stroking himself behind her the way his voice was wavering, breathy. “No matter what happens, you’re mine and I’m keeping you, okay?” His voice hitched up just a bit as he scraped his cockhead through her folds. She was tempted to spread her thighs but she resisted since he’d been very clear with her to keep them together.

“Yes, Father,” she breathed as she felt his smooth tip collecting her arousal, gliding up and down through her crease.

“And since you didn’t do it on purpose and I’ve given you 15 spanks as punishment,” 15 on each side, she corrected in her mind, “I’ll let you come but you may not move. I don’t want you spreading your legs to keep steady either. I’ll hold you up if you start to fall.”

The sudden slicing of his wide cock through her delicate pussy entrance had her groaning and dropping her mouth wide open. She was so wet and gushy already. She felt her arousal seep down to the back of her thigh as he began to thrust into her, juices leaking down from her opening.

Harry’s hand landed on the wall next to her head as his other clutched her hip tight, thick crown splitting her in half, and it all felt even tighter inside with her thighs pressed together. But her legs started to sway as he took heavy strokes, hips smacking against her ass. A deep moan vibrated from his chest and the way she was squeezing around him was like heaven. If he had to go to hell for his sins it would be worth it. She was worth everything to him.

When the priest noticed his pet having difficulty keeping steady he pushed into the brim, filling her completely, and gently nudged and nudged deeper into her, rutting in with hips pasted to her ass, “Being so good for me, pet. Keeping your legs together as I asked. Feels so good with you around me…”

She could hear the tightness in his voice. Her priest was enjoying her pussy. His pussy. Everything was his. All of her belonged to him. She kept her palms on the wall as he fucked into her, keeping his body tucked against her, spreading her open completely and fitting right up against her cervix like she needed.

“Want to be good for you, Father. Want to make you happy and give you everything I can. You own every single part of me.”

He groaned and rutted forward making her inhale sharply, “I do own you don’t I pet? That’s why I call you my pet. Because you’re mine and you always will be. Isn’t that right?”

No one would have ever guessed the pair stood together in the corner fucking in the small living room had the kind of secret they did. No one would have ever guessed the man was a priest and the girl on his cock with the red leather choker was his dirty secret. His divine secret. No one would know the kinds of sinful things they did together every day. If they glanced at the marks on her bare bottom they wouldn’t have assumed they were from the hands of a priest.

“Yes! Father, I’ll always be yours. I’m your possession, your property…”

They both panted as Harry’s cock worked its magic inside of her hot cunt. The wetness of her walls surrounding him and coating him was the perfect spot for him to snug into and spill his seed into.

Her lip curled up as she coughed out a loud moan and arched her back, eyes closed and in sheer bliss from her insides being rearranged. She was weak for him and her orgasm couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please! Can I come, Father? Oh my god…”

He could feel her shaking, thighs trembling so hard he had to hold her hips on both sides so she didn’t tip over.

“Aww poor thing. It aches, doesn’t it? Little pet needs to have her release, doesn’t she? Got all stressed out after misspeaking. You can come. Give me your orgasm, Y/n. Let me feel you… want to feel you milking my cock…”

Harry’s own strong thighs were beginning to quiver as his balls began to squeeze up against his body, his release just moments away.

She cried out and tensed as she spasmed and clenched around him, wave after delicious wave of wet orgasm gushing from her until she felt his grip tighten and then his chest brush into her back, his lips on her shoulder, “Come for me, pet. Holy fuck…”

He groaned at how her walls pulsed, beckoning him to come, sucking his cock deep into her tummy with every squeeze until he growled and bit down on her skin, cock pumping and throbbing inside of her.

The priest had considered not letting her come at first. But he was glad he changed his mind because there was nothing better than to have her siphoning his come from his cock as she fluttered around him and her pretty voice whined and begged…

His hot come began to leak out of her pulsing hole as he thrusted in and when he stood back to watch as he pulled out and plunged in again he saw her cream coating him.

Her legs were still wobbly as he pulled out and gently turned her in his arms and pushed his lips to hers. She felt his warm hands on her face and she knew she had nothing to worry about with her priest. He loved her and she knew it without question. Misspeak or not, he wasn’t going to just give up on her because of an accident.

Bumping his nose to hers he whispered against her lips, “I’ll always choose you. Over everything. Don’t ever doubt my love for you, pet.”

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[sillysowa]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM OML 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Would you be comfortable with writing a hobie x femreader where Hobie walks in on reader pleasing herself. The rest is up to you

THANK YOU ANON!🫶 Absolutely! Here you go~

NEED A HAND?

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT, FLUFF, ENEMIES TO LOVERS?

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: MASTURBATION, VAGINAL FINGERING, CUNNILINGUS, VAGINAL SEX, DEGRADATION + PRAISE, SPITTING, ‘ANGRY SEX,’ FLUFFY AT THE END

AUTHORS NOTE: I DECIDED TO GO WITH A DYNAMIC WHERE HOBIE AND READER HAVE A COMPETITIVE RELATIONSHIP IN HQ, BUT THEY WANT EACHOTHER

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE WALKS IN ON YOU TOUCHING YOURSELF WHILE MOANING HIS NAME—DIDN’T YOU SAY YOU HATED HIM?

—

“Hobie fucking Brown with his stupid fucking voice, and his freakishly long fingers! His…his annoying smirk, and his obnoxious fucking style, god!” You groan, stripping out of your clothes furiously and staring down at your underwear—You were wet, actually fucking horny because Hobie decided today was a good day to test your limits. He didn’t do anything necessarily crazy, he just sat right next to you, manspreading with his leg pressed against yours, slinging his arm around your shoulder and placing his hand on your inner thigh when he got up to leave, whispering a deep,

“Y’look absolutely ravishing today.” In your ear like it was no big deal! Who the fuck does that? You’ve both always been sort of competitive with eachother on missions, personalities clashing when you work together. He likes to throw half-mean-half-flirty remarks at you and you like to shut it down. That’s how it goes—but today? Straight up flirting? You couldn’t handle it. You instantly got on your bed and pulled your rose toy out of your night stand, turning it on and spreading your legs.

You felt a little ashamed of yourself, but the moment you felt those sweet vibrations on your clit it all just melted away and thoughts of Hobie between your legs clouded your vision, your heart racing and your skin dampening,

“Fuckkk~” You groan, throwing your head back and panting at the feeling, “Yes, Hobie. Eat my fucking pussy, fuck~” Your moans get louder, the sensations on your most vulnerable spot making you writhe. You can’t stop thinking of Hobie. You think of his face and how good he’d look naked on top you—or his tongue deep inside you after whispering pure filth in your ear, or his piercings and how good they’d feel on your folds—you think of it all, your eyes clamping shut and your free hand hiking your leg up higher by the back of your knee. Your pussy clenched around nothing, your mouth opening as you moan,

“Fuck me, Hobie...”

“Am I interrupting—?”

You cut him off with a gasp, scrambling to clamp your legs shut and cover your breasts. Your mind raced…

What. The. Fuck.

Hobie is standing in a portal in front of your bed, walking through it smugly with his hands in his pockets. He looks shocked, but he’s doing a decent job of remaining calm and collected. You on the other hand…you don’t know how to explain anything, your vibrator still buzzing on your bed and covered in your juices,

“Well isn’t this’a sight f’sore eyes…?” He chuckles, “Here I was thinking you hated my bloody guts but now look at ya…all hot and bothered. Did my teasin’ earlier make your pretty pussy wet? Y’look pretty frustrated y’know, need a hand?” He smirks, slowly removing his guitar and vest. He looks incredibly tall in your room, towering over you on your bed and as he slowly removes his clothes. You finally muster up to the courage to speak,

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You ask, your pussy throbbing at the sight of his toned and smooth skin, his abs and v-line exposed for your hungry eyes to swallow like prey. You genuinely can’t believe what’s happening right now but even worse you can’t believe how much you’re liking it! You literally can’t tear your gaze off of him as he strip-teases for you. You knew you couldn’t fuck him…you work with him! You’re one of Headquarters best and here you were, horny and desperate for a delinquent anarchist…but good god his dick was massive!

He pulled his boxers down and what had to be just shy of ten inches of rock hard dick popped out, springing up just for you. Your mouth gaped open and you shamelessly stared,

“Texted you to tell you there was a change’a plans in tomorrows mission but you weren’t respondin’ so I figured i’d just stop by and tell ya—never knew you’d be flicking the bean and moaning out my name.” He smirks devilishly, coming towards the edge of your bed. He knows you want this by the look in your eyes and the way you let your legs fall open, but he needs to be sure,

“May I?” His voice comes out in a special deep kind of way that you’ve never heard before and your pussy clenches, your spidey senses going wild. You know he feels it cause one of his eyes squints, the strong feeling tugging at his senses, and he smirks when you whine,

“Fuck, yes, p-please just—“

“Shhh relax love, i’ve got you.” Hobie whispers, crawling on top of you and roughly spreading your thighs with a grunt, planting a kiss right on your sensitive clit. He pauses for a moment, locking eyes with you before sucking on it like a lollipop. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your hands twitch, the feeling making you shake,

“O-Oh fuck…Hobie, y-you suck at this.” You lie through your needy sounds, your hands reaching towards his head and thrusting his face deeper against you, the slightly shocked look in his eyes fueling your need and making you feel like you were in charge for a moment. Hobie pops off of you with ease despite your strength, and he web shoots your wrists above your head in a matter of seconds,

“Since y’were begging f’me, I think i’ll just take control, yeah?” Hobie smirks, his lips latched onto your clit instantly, kissing and slurping on it sensually—delivering you the most pleasure you had ever felt.

“Y-you’re, mmf!- such an ass, Hobie~” The room felt hot and your skin felt sticky, his teasing gaze at your words making your pussy gush. You tried to fight back the moans, panting and squirming at his every touch. Hobie wanted to hear you. He slapped your thigh, a yelp escaping from your lips as he slurped you up like you were his last meal. He got all kinds of revved up from your pettiness, rutting his dick into the sheets as he proved to you that not even you knew your body like this,

“You like that don’tcha love?” Hobie growls into your pussy as he does absolutely sinful things with his tongue, things that you didn’t know were possible—the moans were becoming so hard to bite back. You whimpered, your hips bucking against his nose and tongue. Hobie felt the way you pulsated and when he looked at you and saw your eyebrows furrowed the way they were, he knew you were close,

“Give it to me, Y/N, I want it all.” He groans, his tongue working like a machine on your clit, steady rapid pace flicking it just the way you needed to cum all over his face, squirting like you never have before. Your back arched and you tried to hide your face by turning, embarrassed at how fast you came from just Hobie’s tongue. You knew he’d get a kick out of it, and sure enough,

“That good love? Couldn’t have even been more than 5 minutes.” He laughs but he kisses your thighs, licks up the mess, and then reaches for your face. You were surprised when his hands came to your jaw and he looked into your eyes—He kind of looked like he was going to kiss you.

That was when you felt his tip at your entrance, prodding and pushing in. You couldn’t even try to keep quiet, and you could look away as he held your face and his half lidded eyes bored into yours. It was sadistic, that look he gave you while your eyes widened and watered, your lips parting as pained moans spill from your lips—he was huge and he knew it.

“How’s that feel, doll?” He whispers, eyes never leaning yours as he thrusts himself all the way inside your tight cunt. You’re so wet that he doesn’t even have to try to move, his dick ramming inside you like a piston. In contrast, he gently smooths his thumbs over the balls of your cheeks, watching every expression that strikes your features,

“Y-You’re too big—“ You moan, your eyelids twitching and fluttering as your body turns to jelly. You had never felt something so filling in your whole life…of course Hobie had to have the biggest dick you’d ever felt…there was no sly remark you could possibly throw at him when you were breathless just from the first couple of thrusts,

“You’re taking it so well though, hm? Such a good girl.” Hobie groans, sliding his hands down your body and kissing your neck while he grips your hips, “You feel so fucking good. You’re so dirty touching yourself at the thought of me and spreading your legs like a whore at the sight’v my dick,” He grunts out through his moans, thrusting into you and making your whole bed shake. You physically can’t handle the praise and degradation that he throws at you all at once,

“H-Hobie…you’re so fucking annoying!”

“Oh yeah? I’m annoying? Well you’re sobbing on my dick right now, not a good look is it, love?”

You can’t even think as Hobie pulls almost entirely out of you before thrusting into you full speed, leaving you choking on your breaths for a moment. He looks right into your eyes, repeating the same rhythm and smirking at your needy sounds—the way you can’t help but cry out in pleasure each and every time,

“What was that?” He asks, mock pity in his voice, “Too fucked out to answer hm?”

You tug at your restrains, pleasured tears spilling from your eyes as your turn your head, moans tearing out of your throat,

“I-Mmm~ Fuck…Hobie!~ I-I hate you!”

At this, Hobie just comically tilts his head. He knows you don’t hate him, the way your heart beats out of your chest and your ankles lock around his back as he fucks you—even the way you tease him or yell at him—it’s full of want and need…desire even. His pace never relents as he massages your hips, his deep voice making your heart drop,

“Look at me.”

You don’t. You feel embarrassed at how easily he’s gotten you into this submissive state when you’re one of the strongest people at HQ. You just moan and cry, grunting in frustration with every drag of his dick deep inside you,

“Y/N, look at me.” Hobie says in a sultry tone, voice filled with lust. You feel his chill hand creep up to your jaw, refocusing your gaze on him as he snaps into you at a brutal pace, hitting your sweet spot and making your pussy drip. When your eyes lock on his, he looks absolutely irresistible. There’s a sheen layer of sweat clinging to every inch of his skin, and there’s a glow to his features that you had always seen but never like this. You just want him. You have him but you need him. You need him and he needs you, the hand on your jaw tightening as he brings his thumb up to your lips, pulling your lips open. Hobie leans down, thrusting into you and making your bed creak as he spits right onto your tongue. It stuns you like a slap on the face, but it turns you on like nothing before. Your pussy clenches impossibly tighter around Hobie and you swallow his spit, groaning gutturally,

“You’re so fucking nasty.” He groans at the sight, pressing your knees down beside you and thrusting into you with fervor,

“You’re no better.” Is all you say, trying to sound steady even though you’re a mess for him. You’re digging your nails into his back and dragging them down his smooth skin, begging him to go faster as your body convulses. You’re both breathless in passion, too scared to admit that this was more than just sex. You want each other in a debilitating way, in a way so strong that it scares you—so you fuck like crazed animals and chase your release together.

Hobie’s ears tingle at the sound of your moans increasing in pitch and volume, his senses ablaze with the feeling of your warm hands on his back and the sight of your intoxicated gaze. He looks down at you as you throw your hands around his neck and spill pretty noises from your parted lips. Hobie doesn’t know what comes over him but as he nears his orgasm, he leans down slowly, closing the gap between the two of you. There’s no excuse ready in his mind when he sees your eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes and back, knowing that you want him as much as he wants you.

“Hobie?” You ask, voice full of need and confusion. You’re feeling desperate, on the edge from him so deep inside you, the pleasure building and your head spinning—but now…now he looks like he’s going to kiss you and that scares you. Not because you don’t want it but because you do. Your heart races as one of his hands finds its way behind your head and the other under your jaw.

“I want to kiss you...I-I really want to kiss you.” His words come out huskily, and his gaze softens as he’s about to cum.

You say nothing. You just hold him in the same endearing way and close the gap, pressing your lips against his gently—a juxtaposition to how his hips desperately ram against yours as you both cum, moaning into the kiss and desperately trying to taste each other, afraid of what comes when the moment is over. Hobie’s eyebrows furrow and he struggles to kiss back, releasing himself inside you before he pulls you up and into his lap, still deep inside. Your naked bodies are moving in tandem—lust, need, hunger, desire, desperation, fear, and love. When you finally break the kiss, you’re both breathless. He looks into your eyes and you look into his. You want nothing more than to shy away from him answering to never have to speak of this…but you both know there’s no going back now. He gently strokes your back, his hold on you secure and comforting. He tore your walls down and destroyed you, and now you’re completely on display for him. It doesn’t feel bad…it feels surprisingly natural to be with him like this.

He holds you close, his chin on your head. You feel the deep vibrations on his vocal cords in his chest as he speaks, “You don’t actually hate me do you?” He chuckles.

“No.” You quickly say, mumbling with your cheek pressed against him, “I think we both knew that though, Hobie.”

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”

Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.

They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.

“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.

“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”

“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”

“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”

“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.

“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”

“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”

“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.

“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”

“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.

“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”

“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.

“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”

“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”

“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.

“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”

“And that’s when you became best friends?”

“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”

“Platonic with a capital P?”

Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.

“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.

When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.

“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.

Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.

It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.

He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.

---

this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

now with a part two! click here

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 1] Ikebana

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Morning Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob, Spitting, Praise Kink, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Shower Sex, Death (Not Major), Slight Angst, Fluff

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Satoru doesn’t remember much about his childhood– Not the parts that didn’t involve you anyway. He remembers playing with you when you were kids, but apart from that, he can only remember pivotal moments. Important moments that to no surprise, always managed to involve you.

When Satoru was five, he walked into his kitchen with a scraped knee, searching for help from someone that worked around the house. That’s when he saw a girl around his age, and he got excited. So excited that he forgot about his scraped knee. The girl hadn’t noticed him though, as she tried to get her mother’s attention. 

“Hi! I’m Satoru” were his first words to her. That’s when you turned to see him, and you like to think that a beautiful friendship blossomed.

Satoru never really understood why you lived there, or why his parents never acknowledged you when you two played together. They’d address Suguru, one of his closest friends, or literally anyone else that would come over from school. Just not you, even though you’d play together every afternoon.

When Satoru was seven, he understood that your mother was a servant and lived in the servants’ quarters along with the other people that worked in the house. Satoru didn’t quite understand how important his family was or how rich they were at that time. 

When Satoru was eight, he was turning into a spoiled brat. He was already spoiled before but he wasn’t quite a brat. He’d throw tantrums more often, and not only was he rude to his friends, but especially to you. That attitude went on for months until you said,

“I don’t want to play with you anymore.” which made Satoru realize that maybe he wasn’t being the best person to his friends. That same afternoon you received your first flower. A lily that he picked out from his mother’s garden, something that if she knew, she’d be livid. That was the first time Satoru ever apologized to anyone, and the first time he gave a girl a flower.

When Satoru was ten, he remembers how his parents started to argue about topics he didn’t quite understand. He just remembered being uncomfortable as he heard their aggravating yelling, and feeling embarrassed because you’d be there playing with him. As an adult, Satoru wonders why they decided to argue so close to his room when they lived in a literal mansion. He guesses it’s not their fault that their bedroom was right by Satoru’s. But in the end, Satoru is grateful because you decided to help Satoru out by dragging him out of the room.

He remembers being annoyed at first, claiming he didn’t want to play outside. The playroom was close to his parents’ bedroom as well. There was nowhere he seemed where he could escape, although the house had a multitude of rooms. You dragged him to your mother’s room and showed him the few toys you had. You still had fun, and Satoru was able to forget about his parents’ problems.

When Satoru was eleven, he begged his father to allow you to go to school with him. The problem was that he went to a private school, and the tuition was something your mother could definitely not afford. But he begged and begged until his father finally pulled some strings and got you into the school, and the Gojo family paid for your school’s tuition.

When Satoru was twelve, his father’s work was in vain. Satoru’s group of friends didn’t really like him hanging out with someone else so much while at school, especially a girl who was just the daughter of a servant. Satoru got defensive about it at first, until he wasn’t. He stopped hanging out with you at school, ignoring you at lunch or whenever you found yourselves in the classroom together. You didn’t understand Satoru’s cold behavior until you heard one of his friends talk about you to him.

“Why do you even keep looking at her? She’s probably all dirty.” And those words broke your heart. You knew what he meant. You also remembered Satoru not saying anything. 

You didn’t try to talk to him back at his home, and he really didn’t mind. From that moment on, your friendship deteriorated since Satoru wouldn’t try to talk to you, locking himself in his bedroom.

When Satoru was thirteen, he thought he got his first crush. It was one of your friends from school, he recalls her name being Shoko. He found her cute, and thought about asking for your help to ask her out, but you two didn’t talk anymore. You didn’t acknowledge each other, even though you went home together. 

When Satoru was fifteen, he no longer had a crush on Shoko. He doesn’t know if he ever actually liked her or if he just liked the fact that she was so close to you. Satoru found himself missing the friendship you had, wondering how he could get it back. It had been three years since it came to an end. He didn’t know how to get that friendship back. During the summer, he did the same thing that he did when he was eight years old: picked lilies from his mother’s garden and gave them to you. That was the second time that you got flowers.

“Hey!” Satoru yelled when he spotted you walking around the backyard. It confused you because Satoru doesn’t talk to you anymore.  What confused you even more was Satoru holding two flowers from his mother’s garden. He walked up to you, and you stared, trying to figure out what he’s planning.

“Mr. Gojo… What do you need?” You asked him. He extended his arm, attempting to hand you the flowers. But you didn’t take them.

“I want to apologize. I haven’t been… the best person to you. You were my best friend for seven years and now I don’t even know your interests. All because I listened to some stupid boys.” He said, and you pouted. You took the flowers from him before you wrapped your arms around him. “I miss you as my friend.”

“I miss you too, Satoru.”

A friendship formed again, but it wasn’t quite like the one you had ten years ago.

When Satoru was sixteen– Sixteen was a weird year for Satoru. He had gotten his friendship with you back, yet it was awkward. Not because you missed being friends with each other for three years, but more because Satoru had some weird feelings toward you. He thought it was just tension because of his past behavior, but he realized how upset he got when Suguru confessed that he had a crush on you.

“Why do you even like her?” Satoru immediately asked, his blood boiling. The moment those words left his lips, Satoru knew that the reason everything was so weird was because he liked you. When he was sixteen, Satoru finally realized he liked you.

When Satoru was seventeen, he fell in love. He fell in love with the way you expressed yourself, the way you dressed, your interests. He loved the way your face lit up whenever he asked about what you liked. The way you excitedly spoke and stumbled over words. It’s creepy to even say that he loved the way you smelled. Yet Satoru never bothered to confess, scared to be rejected, also because his best friend still liked you.

When Satoru turned eighteen, he got tipsy on his birthday. Even though he invited you to the party, you didn’t show up. You chose to spend the night with your mother because in the end, you wouldn’t fit in with Satoru and his friends. 

He wasn’t having the fun he planned on having, he was just thinking about you. He knew you were around, but he didn’t want to drag you out of your room to spend time with people you don’t like that much. He debated on not celebrating at all, but then he realized how suspicious it’d end up being. He didn’t want you to realize how he liked you. 

His plan was to move on past it all, although it was hard because he was literally so in love with you. The thought of you with anyone else made him sick. He just didn’t know how to tell you, fearful of rejection. He tried to have fun, drinking along with his friends. 

“Satoru, where are you going?!” Suguru yelled as Satoru began to walk away from everyone else, heading to the servants’ quarter. Suguru thought about following him, but he stayed behind when he was approached by some of his friends. Satoru just had a single thought in mind. You.

He remembered your mother’s room clearly, it was the third door to the left. He was about to knock, but he paused. Then he heard your voice, and he wondered if he was hallucinating until he turned and saw you.

“That’s not my room anymore. My mom asked your mother if I could have a separate room… Around five years ago.” You told him as he slowly walked towards you. You stood confused because he didn’t bother to speak. Until his hands cupped your face and he looked down at you. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you are.” He began, and you looked up at him– At first utterly confused. But it hit you. Pretty quickly you realized why Satoru was so distant. You then thought that you were thinking way too highly about yourself, especially when the breath of alcohol passed your nose. 

“Satoru… You’re drunk. You should go to bed. I can tell everyone else to go home.” You offered while Satoru smiled.

“Drunk? No way. Maybe just a little tipsy.” He dragged out his words and you’d be laughing if his hands weren’t on your face. He forced you to look at him, and his face got closer and closer to yours. “I just want to kiss you right now.”

“You’re really confident.” You responded. Satoru has never exerted this type of confidence before. 

“May I kiss you?” He questioned, and your face got warm at his question. Your gaze lingered on his glossy pink lips, and you wanted to accept. But you knew better because Satoru isn’t in his right state of mind. Maybe he wasn’t drunk but he was definitely leaning more toward being drunk than sober. 

“You’re not thinking straight.” You said. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Satoru. I can put you to bed.”

“I’m not a child– I know what I’m doing.” He answered. He licked his lips, while he continued to look down at your lips. “Please.”

“Why would you even want to do that?” You asked, blinking slowly as you watched Satoru. Satoru bit down on his lip as he tried to come up with an answer. Maybe he’s tipsy, but he isn’t dumb enough to humiliate himself like– He’s no better than that.

“Because I love you. I love you so much.” And with that, Satoru kissed you. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was for sure the most memorable one of his life. He knew he’d regret it the next day, but he couldn’t live his life without at least having kissed your sugary soft lips once in his lifetime. Even if everything ended up awkward between the two of you.

When Satoru turned eighteen, he ruined his friendship with you. But in the end, it all worked out. He ruined his friendship because you ended up as his girlfriend instead, which is more than he could’ve asked. At eighteen, Satoru got his greatest gift.

And now, Satoru is twenty-one, thinking about proposing to his girlfriend. You’re no longer eighteen, so of course a lot of things have changed. Instead of staying in the Gojo house, you’re now hours away at college, while Satoru finishes a useless degree at the best university in the world. 

He’s so close to finishing his degree, but time seems endless when he’s in a different country from you. He can’t wait till he gets to wake up each morning next to you, it feels like that day isn’t soon enough.

“How’s school, baby? Nothing too stressful I hope.” Satoru says, looking at the small device in front of him that displays your face. It really does you no justice. He’d give just about anything to be with you right now, but he’ll be flying you out soon so you’ll spend some quality time together. The more time you spend apart, the more romantic your reunion ends up being.

“Annoying. Boring. Stressful.” You list, and he chuckles. “I can’t wait to see you, baby. It’s what motivates me nowadays.”

“Aw, I’m flattered. It’s the same with me though. I’m just thinking about you all day and night. I can’t wait to see your pretty little face.” He tells you.

“You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?” You respond, and he ends up rolling his eyes before he laughs. Every time you call each other, you talk on the phone for hours, and Satoru never gets bored of it. Usually, the call ends with one of you falling asleep, and this time it ended up with you falling asleep.

“I love you.” Satoru says, his eyes droopy as he hangs up the call. He smiles, thinking about spending the rest of his life with you. He can’t wait to propose, just thinking about giving you the ring he bought for you. 

He succumbs to slumber, not hearing as the phone rings. He doesn’t return the call the next day either, assuming that his parents don’t have anything important to say. They never do.

Satoru waits eagerly at the airport, his eyes looking around to find his love with her luggage. You texted him when you were on the plane, and texted him once you landed, so it’s now a matter of time for him to find you. He anxiously glances at his phone every thirty seconds, waiting for you to send him a text. He’s hoping that you’re okay and you haven’t gotten lost.

“Satoru!” You yell, and Satoru’s eyes brighten up as a smile overcomes his face. He waits for you with open arms, and you run to wrap your arms around him. Two months since your last encounter, your lips meet his in a sweet kiss. He doesn’t want to pull away, but he knows he has to before he ends up doing something that he shouldn’t be doing in an airport. 

“My love, how was your flight?” He asks, taking the luggage from your hands so you can walk without having to carry anything heavy. You begin to walk toward the elevator.

“It was good. There was a baby crying the whole way here though, I was a bit annoyed not gonna lie.” You share, and Satoru almost laughs, but he feels as if it’d end up insensitive. He offered to get his parents’ jet, but you refused. You don’t want to shove the relationship in their faces, knowing that they don’t like you– His father does, however, Mrs. Gojo doesn’t.

“You have all day to rest. But tomorrow we have our schedule all packed.” Satoru says, causing you to groan. You get into the elevator and Satoru clicks on the third floor to go to the floor he parked at.

“I’ve barely landed and you’re already making me think about work–”

“It’s not work if it’s fun… Unless you don’t like getting massages.” He cuts you off, and you quickly change your mind. You were wrong. “You know I’m not going to make you work while you’re with me. Ever.”

“Then why am I getting a degree?” You question as the two of you exit the elevator and begin to walk to Satoru’s car. 

“To kill time before you can officially become Mrs. Gojo.” He answers, and you fight back a smile as you think about the possibility of marrying Gojo. When you were thirteen, you liked him, but you thought that getting with him was impossible. Now he gets on your nerves because he can’t stop saying how much he loves you.

“Why do you think I’d change my last name?” You ask as he opens the passenger door for you. You get in and he leans down to peck your lips before he says,

“Why would you pass up on the opportunity of becoming Mrs. Gojo?” He replies, and before you can say anything, he closes the door. You weren’t going to say anything anyway, you don’t want to offend his mom by saying that you’re afraid that by getting the last name, you’ll end up like her. Satoru knows that his mother isn’t the easiest of the bunch and he often complains about her, but you doubt that he’ll like hearing you complaining about her.

You check your phone while Satoru puts your luggage in the trunk. You don’t have many messages except the ones from your mother asking you how the flight was. You begin to text her back while Satoru gets in the driver’s side and turns on the car.

“Are you hungry?” Satoru asks and you shake your head. “Are you sure? I don’t have anything that you can snack on at home.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.” You answer. You know that Satoru frantically went shopping the previous day, and if he didn’t have anything, he’d order anything for you. He squeezes your thigh as he begins to drive.

“I just want to make sure you eat something before getting home. It’s an hour-long drive.” He informs you, and you still shake your head before you kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for caring about me.” You tell him. He grins from ear to ear. “Right now, all I want to do is take a nap.”

“You can nap while we drive back to my apartment. Then you can sleep for the whole afternoon.” He says, his hand caressing your thigh.

“I want to spend some time with you though.”

“We have all week to do that. Sleep a little bit.” He responds. You don’t have to hear him twice before your eyes shut and allow yourself to relax for the rest of the ride.

When you wake up, you’re in Satoru’s soft bed, and the sun isn’t out anymore. You slept the whole afternoon. You were barely awake while walking from the car to the elevator, and from the elevator to his apartment. You fell asleep on Satoru’s couch, and he carried you to his bedroom.

You see light coming from the bottom of the door, and you stand up and walk towards the door. The aroma of the food he’s cooking fills up the area, and it brings you to smile, knowing that he’s cooking something up. He usually tells you about the great meals that he’s learned how to cook, and you never believe him. Every time you’re reunited, he’s usually back at his house so he can’t cook for you, but he finally has the opportunity to show off his skills, so he’ll do so.

You walk to the kitchen to find him cutting up some tomatoes for dinner. You walk over to him, trying to be as quiet as possible since he hasn’t noticed you yet. You love scaring Satoru, and you’ll take every chance you can take to do it. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him from behind. He jumps up a little, startled. You kiss his shoulder before you say, “I was dreaming about you…”

“Really? Was I shirtless? I hope so.” He says, causing you to laugh. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Good. I’m starving.” You tell him. “Where’s everything? I want to start setting the table.”

“You can sit down and watch some TV. You’re not lifting a finger this whole week.” Satoru tells you, and you certainly can’t complain. You never have had the chance to sit back and relax, and since your boyfriend wants to give you that opportunity, you’ll take it. “I still haven’t made reservations for tomorrow’s dinner, do you want anything specific?��

“I really haven’t thought about anything. You can pick.” You answer. You surf through channels, trying to find something that you’re entertained by, and when you finally find the right one, Satoru announces,

“Everything is set. You can come now.”

You stand up and walk over to the table and take a seat. You look at the food and your stomach growls at the sight, causing Satoru to chuckle. He serves your food while you comment on how delicious everything looks.

“I have so much for us planned.” Satoru shares as he passes you your plate. You begin to eat without waiting for him, simply too hungry to wait for him. He laughs, seeing how eager you are to eat. “I’m not sure if we’re going to do it all.”

“Why not?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Do you really think we’re getting out of the house much when you’re not so tired?” Satoru asks, and you feel your face warm up. You sheepishly smile at him, then you focus on your food to try, trying to hide your embarrassment. He notices and tries to change the topic, “I’ll be visiting home soon too.”

“Really? I can’t wait. One week isn’t enough.” You say. “You should come by more often.”

“Staying home isn’t that fun, baby. First day is fine but then my mom gets annoying.” He responds. “When I move back I’ll get an apartment for the two of us. Or maybe a house so we can start a family right away.”

“A family? Aren’t we too young?” You question, and he chuckles. If only you knew all the plans he has already made in his head, all of them to be completed within five years. “Not that I’m opposed–”

“If it were up to me we’d get married tomorrow.” He interrupts you. “But of course, we have to give it some time. However, I’m not moving back till a year or so, you might change your mind then.”

“Really?” You respond. You love Satoru more than you could ever imagine loving someone, but you have a couple of other priorities that come before starting a family with him. “I’m not opposed to getting married soon, but I do think we should wait before starting to have kids and such. We’re still so young, even if it’s in a year.”

“Well–”

“Plus, your mother would probably want us to have a lavish wedding, even if she doesn’t like me. Lavish weddings take a long time to plan. We can’t have a child out of wedlock, can we?” You argue, and he ends up sighing defeated.

“You’re right, baby. You win.”

Sunlight peeks in through the gap between Satoru’s curtains, and they hit you directly. You fell asleep without a problem last night, and now when the sun has barely risen, you’re awake. You feel a large arm wrapped around you, and smile as you hear Satoru’s heavy breathing. You take in his fresh, clean scent before you attempt to escape his embrace to begin getting ready for the day. But he doesn’t let go. He pulls you close to him, burying your face into his bare chest.

“Where are you trying to go?” He murmurs, barely comprehensible. “You’re not getting up from here until I’m ready to wake up as well.”

“I can’t just spend all day here in bed. You’re going to take a while to wake up.” You respond, yet he doesn’t let go. You’re not going to fight it, after all, Satoru is much stronger than you. You spend around five minutes, laying in bed, doing nothing before you tell him, “Toru… C’mon.”

“You’re really going to wake me up?” He replies while your fingertips begin to trace down his sculpted body. Your fingers feel featherlike running down his body, and it certainly doesn’t help keep him awake. That’s until your finger hooks on the waistband of his briefs. But you don’t do more than that. “Aren’t you going to continue?”

“Aren’t you sleeping? I don’t want to disturb you.” You say, and he grabs your hand, guiding it inside his briefs. Your hand wraps around his shaft and he begins to move it.

“I’m wide awake, baby.” He responds, and your hand begins to move at its own pace. He takes his hand out, moving it inside your pajama shorts to tease your clothed cunt. Your lips go up to meet his, your tongue pressing against his bottom lip before it enters his mouth. Your hand works ever so slowly on his shaft, and he’s groaning in your mouth. 

You pull away from the kiss and take your hand out, spitting on it before going back to stroke his dick. You’re slowly picking up speed, and Satoru moans with your every move. His mouth lands on yours again, trying to suppress the embarrassing sounds that escape his throat. He also pushes your panties to the side, two fingers running through your folds to gather your slick, while your tongue presses against his. 

Once he gets his fingers wet enough, he pushes them into your cunt. You moan into his mouth while he slowly begins to move his thick fingers in and out of you. This is what you miss most about being with Satoru, the fact that you’re left to play with yourself as if it could compare to what Satoru gives you.

Satoru curves his fingers so they hit just right, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and you’re not focusing as much on stroking his cock. Satoru begins to thrust his hips, doing your job for you. You bite down his bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss.

“Hmm– It’s so fucking good, ‘Toru.” You moan, holding your breath while his fingers work their magic. You shut your eyes and try to take it all in. You completely stop moving your hand, but Satoru gets himself off, he’s moaning as he approaches his release. You feel the pressure build up as your orgasm approaches. “I love it, baby– Fuck–”

“Moan my name, baby. It’s so pretty when it rolls off your tongue.” Satoru mutters in your ear, his low raspy voice nearly enough to make you come. You begin to moan his name over and over again as your orgasm looms closer and closer. 

You’re so focused on yourself that you don’t feel his cum that has soiled his briefs. Your hand stays wrapped around his cock while he makes sure to make you come. You get louder by the second until you finally come.

Satoru takes his fingers out and brings them up to your lips before he presses his fingers against them. You open your mouth and take his fingers in, and you begin to roll your tongue around them. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

He takes his fingers out of your mouth and then shoves them into his mouth. You watch him, taking off your pants before you get on top of him, your knees on either side of him. He takes his fingers out of his mouth while he looks up at you. You begin to rub yourself on his briefs.

“I want more, ‘Toru.” You tell him, while his hands go to your hips. Your lips go down to meet his, pecking him a couple of times before he responds,

“Then takemore, baby. I’m all yours to use.” He responds before you push down his underwear. Your hand strokes his cock a couple of times before you push your panties to the side and you align his dick with your entrance.

You slowly lower yourself on his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. If his fingers are long and thick, his dick is even better. You’ve been waiting for this for so long. You take as much as you can get before you begin to move up and down his cock, making the man groan.

“What a sweet little pussy. I’ve missed you so bad, baby.” He says while you bounce on his cock, your hands on his chest for support. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying not to be too embarrassingly loud. You don’t want the neighbors to get the wrong impression of you, “Have you missed me? The same way I’ve missed you?”

“So bad.” You respond. Satoru’s hands go to your ass, his nails digging into the flesh. He looks up at you, watching your facial expressions as you take it all in. “Been thinking about you nonstop, ‘Toru.”

“That’s what I like to hear from my girl.” He says as he spanks your ass. He begins to move for you, setting a much faster pace than the one you were going at. Your eyes shut as you take it all in. His hand goes to play with your clit, getting you to the edge even faster. His cock alone is enough to make you come, but he loves making you putty in his hands as fast as he can. “I really miss you so bad, baby. I need you to be on my side all the time.”

“Satoru–” You moan, not really paying attention to the words that leave his lips anymore. He’s just making you feel so good on his cock, hitting every right spot, your thoughts are forming anymore so you’ll agree with anything and everything Satoru says. Even when he says,

“I’ll just give you a baby so you’re forced to be with me. Wouldn’t you like that? Don’t you want to carry my baby?” And all you can manage to yell is, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ which brings a smirk to Satoru’s lips. “I’ll give you my baby. I’ll give you as many as you’d like.”

“Fuck–” You feel yet another orgasm take over, making you completely weak. Your nails dig into the skin of his chest while you’re on the edge of another orgasm. “Satoru, it’s so good.”

“I’m gonna give you my baby, make sure you’re stuck with me.” He continues, while you throw your head back. He feels your cunt tighten around him, and it drives him crazy. His voice is so whiny when he says, “Fuck… Baby… I need you by my side every day.”

“Satoru!” You loudly moan before you reach your orgasm, your legs spasming. Satoru praises you for it,

“Making a mess all over my cock… Oh, you’re such a good girl.” His hand smacks your ass again while you realize how much you love being praised, especially when what you’re doing is already giving you so much pleasure. 

Satoru chases his release, and he gets so close to it with every movement. Your pussy feels so nice and warm around him… He doesn’t want to finish any time soon, he just wants to stay buried inside of it for the next six days. But that doesn’t stop the fact that he’s so close to finishing. “I’m gonna give it all to you, baby. Gonna give you my baby.”

He mutters a couple of words about knocking you up, making sure that you’re by his side for the rest of your lives before you feel the warmth in your cunt. His seed fills you up while your head falls onto his chest. 

You both try to catch your breaths, his hand running up and down your back. He remains buried inside of you, and he won’t take it out unless you ask him to. 

For a moment you just lay down, listening to each other breathe. But your stomach growls, and you feel your face get warmer than it already is, but this time of embarrassment. You speak, “We should eat something for breakfast.”

“Let’s wait for another five minutes.” 

And while you two wait, Satoru’s phone rings. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab his phone, and he rolls his eyes before declining the call.

“Who is it?” You ask him. You heard his phone ring a couple of times the previous night, and each time he declined it. You genuinely wonder who it is, and you doubt that Satoru is seeing another woman so infidelity is not on your mind. He loves you too much.

“Just my mom. You know how annoying she can be.”

Satoru has shown you that he loves you a million different ways, but this, this by far is the best way that he has expressed his love. You get a pedicure and also a manicure. Satoru sits right next to you, also getting a pedicure. You commented how you were thinking of going to the nail salon before coming to visit him, but you didn’t plan it out. So here you are because your boyfriend is attentive.

He’s also having the time of his life as his feet get massaged. You exchange a few words every now and then, but neither of you is really in a talking mood. Until Satoru asks, “Where do you want to go for dinner? I still haven’t thought of any place.”

“I haven’t either.” You answer. “You should be the one to take me somewhere since you know the area.”

“I guess you have a point…” He responds, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s indecisive and he’s scared he’ll pick the wrong option. “But I planned this lovely day…”

“I think you can pick something else… It’s not a life or death decision, you just have to pick a restaurant. You couldn’t even help me pick a nail color, it’s the least you could do.” You tell him, and he chuckles before his eyes glance at your pink nails.

“I told you that you should do blue. You just didn’t want to listen.” He argues, and you laugh in response because he’s right. He did try to help you pick a nail color, he just didn’t pick one that you liked enough. “But fine, I can–” He unintentionally kicks his foot during his foot massage. He apologizes before he continues talking, “I can pick a restaurant.”

“I can’t wait for the massage…” You change the topic, and he hums in agreement. His phone begins to ring again, and he looks at the phone only to decline the call again. You look over at him and furrow your eyebrows before asking, “Your mom again?”

“She’s more annoying than ever. It’s like she knows that you’re here.”

“Maybe it’s something important. You should pick up the phone.” You say and he shakes his head. 

“I just want to have a relaxing day with you, and she’ll ruin that. I’ll call her tonight.”

When you get back to Satoru’s apartment, you’re rushing to the bathroom to take a shower and begin getting ready for dinner. Satoru told you that he barely managed to get reservations at a nearby restaurant and that it’s one of the best restaurants in town. He told you the dress code, and you’re worried that you won’t have anything in your suitcase that fits.

Satoru thinks about joining you, sitting on the edge of his bed. It’ll slow you two down and possibly make you late, but that’s a risk that he’s more than willing to make. He thinks about it for a moment, until he ultimately decides that you can always eat somewhere else. He takes off his clothes as he walks to the bathroom, more than ready to delay today’s plans. He walks into the steamed-up room and sneakily makes it into the shower.

You’re spooked when you feel two hands land on your chest, and he squeezes your breasts. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed before you say, “Next time make sure to announce that you’re joining me or I might just die.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Satoru says before he pecks your lips. He’s stepping forward, making you step back until the water is no longer hitting you and your back is pressed against the wall. “Since you don’t care about where we go for dinner, we might as well change plans last minute.”

“We can make it fast.” You respond before his lips land on yours. His tongue presses against yours while his hand feathers down your body until they reach your pussy. His fingers run through your folds while he pulls away from the kiss and moves down to your neck. He begins to suck on your sweet spot while he slips a finger into your cunt. A moan leaves your lips when he does so, and because he sucks on that sweet spot in your neck that’s enough to drive you wild.

He continues kissing down your body while he inserts another finger into your cunt. Just like earlier in the day, he curves them so they hit just the right spot, and you’re rolling your eyes. He’s on his knees, and his tongue begins to lick your cunt.

He focuses on your clit, and you have you bite your bottom lip so you’re not too loud. His tongue flicks your clit just right, and you’re barely able to stand. 

“You’re doing such a good job.” You praise him, your eyes shutting as one hand grips his hair. Satoru eagerly licks, loving the taste on his tongue. God, he fucking hates the fact that you’re in a completely different timezone than he is. He really wants you by his side at all times. 

He takes his fingers out and his tongue stops flicking your clit. His tongue moves down and it enters your cunt. His thumb begins to play with your clit while he moves his tongue around, and you’re not able to hold back your moans anymore. You feel your orgasm approach, and you grab a handful of his hair, pulling it. He doesn’t even notice, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue.

“Fuck– I’m gonna come…” You tell him. His thumb works on your clit so well, and you praise him for it, which serves as his encouragement. He looks up at you, so adoringly, but you’re not looking at him. You get louder and louder until you finally come on his tongue. He takes his tongue out and kisses your clit before he stands up and kisses your lips.

You’re about to get on your knees and return the favor, but you both hear Satoru’s phone ring. He’s about to ignore it again, letting his mother get tired of calling, but the phone keeps ringing and ringing that it makes you say, “It must be important, ‘Toru. Go pick it up.”

“It’s probably nothing–” He begins but you cut him off.

“She’s very insistent, Toru. She’ll continue calling through dinner. Just check what she wants and I’ll finish my shower.” You peck his lips and he sighs in response before getting out, grabbing a towel, then grabbing his phone. 

“Hi mom.” He greets her, a little too unenthusiastic for her liking. First, she asks where he has been and he responds, “I’ve just been resting after so many exams. I need to relax once in a while, y’know?”

“Your father is sick. Very sick.” His mother says, which makes the man freeze. “I’m not sure if he has much time left… He just suddenly– I don’t know.”

“What– I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.” Satoru responds, hanging up the call before he barges into the bathroom. You’re getting out of the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap it around yourself and Satoru announces, “We have to go back home tomorrow.”

“Oh? Why?” You ask, following behind him while he goes to his closet to begin packing essentials; he doesn’t need much since he has pretty much all he needs back at his house. “Satoru, is everything okay? Why do we have to go back so soon?”

“My dad is… sick.” Satoru says, slowly realizing the gravity of it all. His dad has never been sick, from what he can remember. He wonders how he’s so sick and how horrible it has to be for his mother to call. He sincerely thinks of the worst, and he hopes that in the end, everything ends up okay with his father. “I’m sorry for ruining your vacation but… If she’s calling me, it’s because it’s bad.”

“No, no. It’s okay, Satoru. He should be your priority.” You respond before going back to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable since your plans have clearly changed, and to pack up your suitcase once again. You didn’t expect your week to be over so soon.

“Dad…” Satoru says, barging into his parents’ room. Satoru paid for the next available flight and you flew out. Now you’re both at his parents’ house since you’re still on vacation and you’re not planning to go back to your apartment near your university yet. You’re with your mother, while Satoru sees his father to figure out just how bad it is. 

He walks over to the bed where his father lies. His father isn’t looking too well, he looks so pale and exhausted. He’s definitely lost some weight too. Satoru walks to his father’s side before he sits on the edge of the bed. “How are you holding up? Mom didn’t tell me about you being sick before–”

“I asked her not to.” His father cuts him off. “I want you to focus on your studies so you can take over as fast as possible.”

“For how long have you been sick?” Satoru asks. This clearly isn’t something new, it was just kept from him. His father is rarely around, even when Satoru is visiting, so he never had the chance to see just how  his health deteriorated.

“That doesn’t matter now, does it?” His father responds. “It doesn’t matter, really. I want to hear about you, Satoru. I know nothing about your life except that you were friends with one of the maids’ daughters.”

“Yeah…” Satoru chuckles, unsure of how to talk about it. His mother knows about the relationship, but he hasn’t talked to his father about it yet. Truth be told, he didn’t tell his mother, she just figured it out. “We’re not really friends anymore… She’s my girlfriend.”

“I know…” His father confesses with a chuckle before he begins to cough. He reaches for his handkerchief and covers his mouth. After a minute, he stops and his father grabs his glass of water and chugs majority of it before he speaks again, “I knew you two would end up together the moment you begged me to pay so she could go to school with you. That’s why I offered to pay for her college.”

“Wait, you’re paying for her college?” Satoru is taken aback by this but his father shakes his head.

“No. She turned me down. Told me I had already done enough.” His father shares, which makes Satoru wonder why you would say no to him, but it’s fine. It’s nothing too bad, he would’ve appreciated you sharing him though, “I like her. I don’t believe in love or soulmates all that much, but then I remember on your eighteenth birthday when I caught you two kissing, and maybe, I believed in love.”

“You don’t believe in love, dad?” Satoru questions, as he realizes this is about the most that he’s spoken to his father. He knew that his father and mother never really loved each other, at least not romantically. He realized it when he was around fifteen, but he didn’t expect to hear it from his father ever.

“I loved my father. My mother. You, ‘Toru. The day you were born was my happiest day, you were my little boy. But I never loved your mother in any type of way.” He confesses, and Satoru just inhales, swearing that he’ll never live like that. He can’t imagine living his life without you. “I appreciate her. She’s a very smart woman that’s kept everything afloat. She gave me you and I could never thank her enough for that. But apart from that, I never grew to love her. She’s a cold woman, and I wasn’t made to love a woman like that.”

Satoru just bites his bottom lip, unsure of what to say at his father’s confession. He expected something similar, but he still doesn’t like the confirmation that his parents were stuck in a loveless marriage. He hates knowing the fact because his father is on the brink of death and he’s probably never experienced love– That he knows of. Satoru often forgets that his father lives a whole different life and that he knows none of the details.

“How did you see me kissing– Oh.” Satoru begins and realizes quickly why his father was in the servants’ quarters. “Please don’t tell me it was–”

“Wasn’t with her mother. Don’t worry. She’s not my type.” His father assures Satoru, which somewhat helps him but still grosses him out. Satoru decides to change the topic, about to confide with at least one parent because he knows that his mother wouldn’t approve.

“I’m thinking about proposing to her soon.” He brings up, and his father grabs his hand and squeezes it. “I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her, so I don’t think I should waste too much time. She wants to get engaged after we both graduate.”

“Do what you think is best. Just hold tight to her and don’t let her go.”

“I love you, dad.” Satoru holds back tears as he hugs his father. His father hugs him back, patting Satoru’s back.

“I love you too, son.” His father responds, and he believes that it’s the first time he hears those words leave his father’s lips. He hates that he’s only heard this so late in life from his father, but he loves it, and he’s sure he’ll miss it.

A month after coming back, you’re back at college and Satoru is at his parents’ house, patiently waiting for the horrible day. He accepted his father wouldn’t make it, so he made sure to savor every moment. He’s barely talking to you, and you understand that he’s upset, so he’s distant. You still try to check up on him as much as you can, even when he barely tries to communicate. 

One April night, right at midnight, your phone rings, waking you up. It’s Satoru, and your heart drops knowing why he’s calling. He calls you sobbing, and you try your best to calm him down. While you do so, you begin to get changed to head to his place, which is hours away but you’ll get there before sunrise.

“I’ll get there in a few hours, baby. Try to get some rest.” You tell him before you hang up the phone. And just as you promised you were in his house within hours, hugging him as he cried. He finally fell asleep in your arms, and you fell asleep shortly after. 

Around six in the morning, he randomly wakes up, and you wake up as well. He pecks your lips before he says, “I want to marry you.”

“I want to marry you too.” You answer. Things change up and he becomes the big spoon before you both fall asleep again. Satoru is woken up and he sees his mother in the doorway, enraged at the sight.

“Satoru! My office, now!” She yells, and he’s forced to get up and follow behind his mother, who has taken the loss of her husband quite well.

After his father’s funeral, you go back to college and try to check up on Satoru as much as possible. He’s more distant than ever. He isn’t bothering to even text you back anymore, which you understand since he needs time to process everything. 

A month after everything, you receive a call from Satoru out of nowhere. You think that he’s slowly going back to normal, and you exit the bathroom to calmly take the call. When you pick up the phone, you immediately hear his gloomy voice,

“Hey…”

“Hi, baby. How have you been holding up?” You respond. The last time you received a text from him was three days ago. “Are you back–”

“I’m fine– Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He says. 

“Oh no. It’s fine. I’m glad to hear that you’re fine.”

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been feeling sick. I think I might be–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“I haven’t been feeling my best, and I think we should take a short break.” He says, and your heart drops. “I love you, but I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to be in a relationship.”

“Oh– Okay… Okay.” You feel the tears well up before you hang up the phone, not letting him say anything else. You doubt he has much to say anyway. You’re about to take a seat but then you remember the test in the bathroom, and you’re forced to walk back inside to read the results. 

You gasp, a tear escaping your left eye before you grab it and throw it in the trash.

You’ll wait before breaking the news to Satoru.

@yeagerfushiguro @luckimoon @uhremmi @conniesbbymama @mykyoon @prettyiolanthe @mc-reborn @the-loneliest-girl @cloudsinthecosmos @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @yumihisusupremacy @blinkingsuns @oi-loverboy @Gojoismybitch @neireav @lilith412426 @goldfishesarecute @misshale21 @rivaiken @q-the-rockaholic @merlinssassybeard @ikilledsparky2 @abcde12345 @mimizsworld @jiwonchii @lily3847 @luckimoon @ryototsukai0824 @Stupendousexpertcheesecake @mrs-itadori

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 7.5k

chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name

There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.

This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.

Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.

This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.

As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.

“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.

“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.

“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.

“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.

“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.

Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.

If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.

They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.

And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.

Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.

He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.

Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.

“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.

Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.

Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.

“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”

“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”

“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”

“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”

Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”

“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”

“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”

“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”

“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”

“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”

You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.

Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.

“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”

“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”

“Fine, I—”

“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.

“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.

In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.

There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.

“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”

You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.

“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”

Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”

“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.

“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”

“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.

Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.

It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”

It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.

You and Jungkook had been broken up for almost two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was over two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.

You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.

And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).

You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.

“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”

Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.

You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.

“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.

Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”

“Okay. Who else?”

“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”

The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.

“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”

“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”

“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”

He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”

“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”

“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”

“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And, depending on flight time, maybe two nights in London,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”

None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.

Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.

You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).

Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.

“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”

“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”

You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.

“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”

Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.

You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.

Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.

When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.

He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.

The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.

He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.

“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”

Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.

The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.

It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.

Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”

He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.

He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.

Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.

Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.

“Look who—”

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”

“I don’t hear running water.”

He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

“I can drive myself—”

“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”

He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”

“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”

“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”

“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”

“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”

“Hanging up now.”

Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.

Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.

His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.

He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.

“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”

Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.

As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.

He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.

He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.

“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”

“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”

“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.

“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”

Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”

You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.

By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.

And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.

Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.

Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.

Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.

However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.

And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.

You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.

Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.

“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.

“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.

“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”

You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.

“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.

His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.

“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”

His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”

“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”

He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”

You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”

“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”

“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”

You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.

Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.

“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”

He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.

“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”

“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.

“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”

He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.

You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.

Maybe he really would be fine tonight.

And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.

“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.

“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”

“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”

Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.

And there was nothing he’d tell them now.

It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.

“I would. That’s why I asked,” Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”

Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.

“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”

Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.

“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.

“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”

Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.

Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”

“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”

Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.

“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”

“I don’t have a crush—”

Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”

Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation.  “Why—why would I even—why—”

“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”

“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”

Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”

“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”

Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.

“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.

“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.

“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”

“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.

“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”

“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”

“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”

“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”

Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.

“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”

“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.

Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.

He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.

“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”

That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.

“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”

“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”

There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.

This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”

Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.

“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”

He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.

“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”

Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.

“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.

“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”

Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.

“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”

“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”

In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.

“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”

Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.

Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.

“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”

chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”

special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜

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[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 11

Warnings: none really, mentions of smoking and drinking, reader punching someone....

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler , slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Steve watches you from afar, confused about your relationship with the metalhead.

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: @mysticmunson you're always my biggest help and inspiration, thank you, angel🤍

series masterlist

-

“Will you hold still?”

“I’m sorry!” 

“Why are you so shaky?”

“I-I don’t know.”

You drop the eyeshadow brush on the desk and put your hand on your hip, sighing as you look at Chrissy who looks more nervous than ever. She is still wearing a hoodie, the cheer uniform is hanging over the back of your chair. You have been trying to do her eye makeup for the past twenty minutes.

“Lay down.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, confusion takes over her face, “why?”

“Because I can’t work like this, you keep fidgeting – seriously, what’s up? You are never this nervous.” 

You and Chrissy always get ready together whenever there’s a basketball game. Usually she does her makeup herself but tonight she asked you to do it, she wanted something similar like you, just with more color.

She seemed happy and excited when she came over but now she seems like a nervous mess. Every time you move closer to her, she starts fidgeting, it’s not the first time you had noticed her doing that. You have noticed a lot in the past three months. 

Heather and Chrissy kept being secretive, oftentimes you would catch them whispering before they’d notice you in the room, they share glances that you don’t understand. They still make you feel left out. You confronted them a while back but neither of them gave you any answers to your questions, it upset you and it caused you to distance yourself from them a little. 

They had started to make you feel the way he made you feel. The constant lies, the whispers and them going behind your back had gotten to you. It triggered some feelings that you thought you had left in the past. 

They were upset when you stopped answering their phone calls and when you would cancel plans but you couldn’t be around them when they refused to talk about the very obvious issues they had with you. You would never drop the friendship, you would never leave them behind, they mean too much to you to just kick them out of your life but you needed some distance, for your sake. 

You made a new friend, Robin Buckley. Eddie introduced you to her back in January, they had been friends since middle school – back when he was still a theater kid. 

You instantly hit it off with her, she is nice and she is very different from Chrissy and Heather, which is why she didn’t feel comfortable hanging out with them yet. It’s a miracle that she gave you a chance considering that ‘popular’ people make her feel extremely anxious and uncomfortable – which you can understand now that you see things from a different perspective.

To most people, you are still the ‘the queen of Hawkins High’ but to some you are one of the freaks now. They glare at you, they whisper about you, they call you names and point their fingers at you, especially when they see you with Eddie, who feels guilty about the treatment you are getting from some of the people that used to be in your friend group when you were still with Steve. You don’t care though. 

You don’t care what other people think of you. 

But you do care what your friends think about you, your friends who still keep secrets. 

“Yeah Chrissy, why are you so nervous?” Eddie chuckles as he looks up from his magazine, glancing at the two of you. Wiggling his eyebrows at her. She glares at him and rolls her eyes, which only makes him chuckle again. 

Eddie knows why she is so nervous, it’s obvious why – well, it’s obvious to everyone but you. It didn’t take him long to figure it out. The subtle glares and the attitude he sometimes gets from the usually nice cheerleader isn’t because she doesn’t like him, it’s because she is jealous of him. Because she likes you. 

And she knows that he knows, she realized it after he started teasing her with small comments and the smug looks he would throw at her when he’d catch her checking you out. At first, she was scared. Scared that he would tell you something that she had been trying to hide for so long. Eddie promised not to tell though. 

Chrissy lies down, a small huff leaves her lips. You get on the bed and scoot closer to her, reaching for the eyeshadow brush, you dip it into the blue eyeshadow before you lean down. 

She is looking at you – staring at you. 

“Close your eyes,” you chuckle. 

“O-Oh right,” she whispers and closes her eyes. 

Eddie puts the magazine down, he leans back in his chair and puts his arm behind his head. He looks at you, you are already wearing your uniform, your hair and makeup is already done. He watches the way you bend down to get closer to Chrissy, your skirt rides up a little, exposing your spandex and more of your skin. He really really doesn’t want to look at you in that way but he can’t look away either. 

You are his friend and he really loves your friendship and how easy things are between the two of you but you are beautiful. 

And you are sexy. 

You suddenly turn around and glance at him, you catch him staring at you. Eddie’s eyes widen but he plays it cool, smirking at you. Your eyes flash with amusement, you raise your brows at him, a smirk tugs at your lips. 

“Stop staring, Munson.”

Eddie gives you a cocky grin, “I can’t look away from a beautiful sunset.”

You furrow your brows and a laugh escapes your lips, you shake your head at him, “what does that even mean, you dork?” 

You turn back around, still smiling. Chrissy snorts at his words. 

“Okay, tell any sane person to look away from two cheerleaders straddling,” he says. 

“Eddie!” Chrissy mumbles, opening her eyes to look at you with a disapproving frown. 

You grab one of your pillows and turn around, throwing it at him, “perv!” You laugh.

He catches it and presses it against his chest, he smirks at you, “can you do my eyeshadow too, sweetheart?” He jokes.

“Shut up,” you chuckle as you turn back around. You reach for your makeup bag and look for the glitter you bought when you went shopping with Robin, yesterday.

Chrissy leans on her elbows, she glances at Eddie who is checking you out again and then her eyes move back to you. She can see the shine in your eyes, the smile that you are trying to bite back, the flustered look on your face. 

It annoys her. 

Eddie is amazing and with him, you would actually be in good hands. He is a much better person than Steve ever was. He wouldn’t hurt you, especially not the way he did. Eddie makes you smile, he spends more time with you than Steve did, he buys you little presents that he surprises you with, all the time. He takes you out on dates that ‘clearly’ aren’t dates because you are just friends. Eddie comes to basketball games – he comes to basketball  games, just for you.

Eddie would be a good boyfriend, there is no doubt about that. She is not sure if you like each other or not but it seems like it. She should be happy for you and she should support it but the green eyed monster inside of her just refuses to let her be happy for you. 

“Are you excited for the party?”

Chrissy snaps out of her thoughts, she looks into your eyes again and nods. 

“Are you gonna wear the dress you bought?” 

She closes her eyes again when you lean back in with the brush. She feels your fingertips on her cheek when you tilt her face to the side. She takes in a shaky breath. 

“Should I?” 

You hum. 

“You look pretty in it.”

She smiles at your words, “I do?”

“Yes, you always do, Chris.”

She blushes and her smile grows bigger, “thank you,” she whispers. 

You smile down at her, “you’re welcome.”

After you finish her makeup, Chrissy takes her uniform and goes into your bathroom to get changed. You clean up the small mess and put away all the makeup and the brushes, you grab your favorite lipstick and walk over to the mirror, you can feel his eyes on you as you start applying the lipstick. A smile tugs at your lips, you glance at him through the mirror. He’s wearing the same smile as you. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck, “nothing.”

You furrow your brows, you smack your lips together and look at your reflection one more time before you turn around to face him. 

“Why are you smiling?” 

He shrugs and gets up from the chair, he grabs the green hair bow and walks towards you. 

“I like watching you get ready,” he says. 

“You do?” You smile. 

He nods, “mhmm.”

He stops in front of you and looks down at you as he holds up the green hair bow, “turn around.”

You turn around, facing the mirror again. He steps closer to you. You can smell his cologne, it’s a new one. It smells even better than the previous one he used. The smell of smoke always lingers around him though, nothing can hide the smell – not the cologne, not the aftershave, not his shampoo which surprisingly smells like apples, not the cinnamon from his favorite gum. 

Eddie’s hands are gentle, his brows are furrowed in concentration, he presses his lips together as he puts the bow in your hair. 

Something about this makes you giggle. Eddie being in your bedroom isn’t unusual but him helping you get ready for the game, putting a bow in your hair is very unusual. 

His eyes flash with amusement as he raises his head to look at your reflection in the mirror, “what’s so funny?”

You shrug and continue watching him, “just you helping me get ready for a laundry basket game.” 

He snorts. 

“I’m helping you get ready for your performance and I’m only going there for you, sweets.” 

Your heart warms at his words. 

“And then you’re also coming to the bonfire party with me.” 

“With you.” He nods. 

“Alright, I’m done,” he grins and flicks your ponytail before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug, leaning his chin on your shoulder, causing you to giggle again. 

You grab his forearms and lean back. 

“Do you hug all your friends that way?”

He chuckles and pulls you even closer, “nah only the special ones, babe,” he smirks and buries his face in your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume and body wash. 

You giggle and tilt your head to the side, “how many special ones are there?” 

“Just one.”

You narrow your eyes as you turn to look at him, he smirks at you still. 

“You’re my very special one.” 

He isn’t joking about that, despite the teasing look on his face, he is saying the truth. You are special to Eddie. You haven’t been friends for that long, you started talking last summer, back in august but you have only gotten really close after your breakup with Steve. It feels like you have been friends for much longer than that though. The moment you first started hanging out, you instantly got attached to each other. Not a single day goes by when you don’t spend time together, he loves being with you and you love being with him. 

Things feel natural, easy and just good when you are with each other. 

You look into each other's eyes for a moment, not speaking, not moving, not doing anything. Sometimes that’s enough. 

A smile tugs at your lips as you look at him. His smile grows as well and before you know it, you both start laughing for no reason. 

Chrissy walks back into the room to see you in his embrace. She clenches her jaw and rolls her eyes in annoyance. She clears her throat. 

You and Eddie look away from each other, the smile still ever present on your faces. You don’t notice the jealousy or the bitterness on her face. He does. 

“Can we go?” 

You glance at Eddie who nods at you with a shrug. He is definitely not excited for the game, you told him that he doesn’t have to go but he claimed that he wants to go, for you.  

You smile at them both, “let’s go!”

-

Things between Steve and Billy were tense all night. You could tell from the moment they walked out into the gym, the glares they sent each other were more intense than usual, they wouldn’t pass on any opportunity to ‘accidentally’ bump into each other and not to mention Steve’s bleeding nose, he tried to hide it but he kept wiping his nose and you noticed the blood on the back of his hand. 

He looked angry and frustrated. You noticed it, right away. 

She didn’t. 

Despite the tension and the weird energy that surrounded one of the best players on the team, they still won against the opposing team and took another win home, which of course has to be celebrated.

Lovers Lake is filled with people, the bonfire party that had been planned for weeks is in full swing, loud music is sounding through the speakers, the smell of burning wood mixed with the smell of the crisp spring air brings you comfort. The cold months are over and the warm weather is finally approaching. 

The beer you have been drinking all night makes you feel a little tipsy but you feel calm and the stars in the sky make you smile as you lay on the grass with Eddie. He lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke up into the air. 

You turn your head and look around, a few people are sitting by the fire. You see Chrissy and Heather talking to a few girls from the cheer squad. You see Nancy sitting on a log with Jonathan, they are both laughing, leaning closer to each other, Steve is sitting on a different log, he is holding a red solo cup in his hand, he looks into the fire with a dull look on his face. 

You raise your brows, you look at the three of them. Odd. Shouldn’t he be the one next to her? Shouldn’t he be the one whispering to her? Shouldn’t he be the one making her laugh? 

“Do you think there’s more out there?” Eddie asks, pulling your attention away from him. 

“Hmm?” 

Eddie repeats his question and you turn back to look at him, he is pointing up at the sky, “like aliens and shit.”

You scoot closer to him, looking at the way he squints his eyes as he smokes. 

“Hmm, maybe,” you shrug, “I think there’s more than just aliens though.”

“Oh, do you?” He asks, turning to face you, “tell me more.”

“I think there’s other universes.”

He raises his brows, waiting for you to explain more. 

“I think there are different worlds, different versions of us – like, maybe there's a version of us fighting interdimensional monsters right now,” you joke, which he seems to love. 

His eyes light up at your words and he laughs. 

“Maybe we are slaying a dark wizard right now – what was his name again, Vecman? You know the one from your new campaign?” 

Eddie laughs loudly and he shakes his head, “it’s Vecna, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes and snort.

“Right, we are killing Vecna, right now.” 

“Are we normal humans or?”

“No, we have superpowers.”

“What kind of superpowers?” 

You put your finger on your chin and look up, “hmm… you got super strength, super speed,” you pause and look into his eyes, his skin looks pale beneath the moonlight, his eyes are dark. Your eyes widen, “you’re a vampire!” 

His jaw drops, his eyes widen, “I’m a vampire?” 

“Yes!”

“That means I had to die – wait! Did you bring me back from the dead? You know, since you’re a witch?”

"Absolutely,” you giggle. 

“That’s so sick, sweetheart.” 

“Right?” 

You both giggle as you stare at each other. His eyes fall to the chain around your neck, the one that he had put on you earlier tonight. He reaches his hand out and touches it. 

“Maybe we are both rockstars in a different world.” 

“Both of us?” You laugh, “I can see you being a rockstar but me?”

“Hush. You are helping me write songs and you can play guitar now – well a little, never as good as me but yeah,” he says, cockily. Smirking at you. 

You shake your head, snorting at his words. 

“Maybe you are my groupie.” 

“You wish!” You slap his shoulder, making him laugh again. 

“Okay okay, not a groupie – you are the lead singer and I’m the sexy guitarist.” 

“Mhmm.” 

You lie back again and look up at the stars, a grin takes over your face, “or maybe you are my groupie.”

“Oh absolutely, I’d totally be your groupie if you were a rockstar, y/n.”

You and Eddie are in your own little world, you always are. You don’t care about anything or anyone else when you are with each other. The rest of the world melts away when you spend time together. 

You don’t care about the people around you or the awful music that one of the jocks picked out, the prying eyes of the judging girls from the cheer squad. You just don’t care about anything. 

You don’t even notice the curious eyes of your ex boyfriend but Eddie does, after you get up to get a new drink. His eyes find a sulking Steve Harrington, who is still sitting by the fire. His girlfriend is long gone and so is her friend, Eddie doesn’t bother to look around for them. He keeps his eyes on Steve, watching the way his eyes follow you. Eddie wonders why he looks so miserable, because of Nancy and Jonathan or because of you? It seems to be the latter, he could be looking for her but instead he is watching you. 

A sigh falls from Eddie’s lips, how stupid can someone be? He wonders.

Suddenly, Steve straightens his back and his expression changes from miserable to curious and tense? He turns his head, looking right at him. Eddie raises his brows when he finds himself locking eyes with him. Steve looks confused, his eyes flicker back and forth between you and him. 

Eddie follows his gaze to see what confuses him so much. He is looking at you and at the guy who is shamelessly checking you out as you laugh at something he said to you.

Eddie snorts. Of course. If there is one thing that he got used to when going out with you then it’s you being hit on, every damn time. 

The guy is tall, probably taller than him. His shoulders are broad beneath the flannel, it’s clear that he’s some sort of athlete. He looks familiar but Eddie doesn’t recognize him. 

Curiously, Eddie watches the interaction from afar, sipping his beer. 

You are holding a drink in your hand, you have to crane your neck to look into his eyes. Eddie can see the smile on your face, you nod to whatever he is saying to you. He steps closer to you, pretending not to hear you properly, he leans closer and licks his lips when he looks down your shirt.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “douchebag.” 

The music is loud but he still hears the approaching footsteps, narrowing his eyes, he almost laughs in surprise when he sees Steve. Getting up, he dusts the grass off of his jeans and finishes his drink. 

Steve stops in front of him, when Eddie sees the look of disbelief on his face, he almost bursts out laughing. 

“I’m not selling tonight,” he mumbles. 

Steve shakes his head, furrowing his brows at his words, “I don’t wanna buy anything.”

“Oh, to what do I owe you the pleasure then, King Steve?” Eddie asks, mockingly. He expects Steve to look annoyed but he doesn’t, just very confused. 

“You’re not gonna do anything?” Steve asks. 

Eddie chuckles, his brows draw together and he tilts his head in question. 

“What do you mean?”

Steve raises his hand, pointing his finger at you and the guy who is now holding his hand out to you – you are writing something on his palm, presumably your number. 

Eddie rolls his eyes again. 

“This guy is flirting with her,” Steve mumbles.

“I’m not her keeper.” 

Now he looks even more confused, if he didn’t look so serious, Eddie would have laughed. But then he realizes why he looks at him so shocked. Steve must think that you and Eddie are dating and he doesn’t understand how he as your ‘boyfriend’ just lets you flirt with some other guy. 

Steve sighs, he turns around. Eddie watches the way he stares the guy down, a look of distaste appears on his face.

“That’s Ray, he used to be the captain of the basketball team. I always hated that guy.” Steve mumbles. 

That’s a lie. Steve used to look up to him, when he was a freshman in high school and he was new on the team, Ray had seemed like the coolest guy around, he was the most popular guy at school, the girls loved him, the boys wanted to be like him and so did Steve until he became popular too and he realized that he could be even better than him. Ray was just a popular guy but Steve Harrington became the King of the school. 

A title he used to be so proud of is just an embarrassing part of his past now. 

Steve is certain that you and Eddie are dating. He could just ask to be sure but he thinks that it’s too obvious. You are dating. But why are you flirting with the former captain of the basketball team? Why are you writing your number on his hand? Are you in an open relationship with Eddie? 

An open relationship is something you never approved of, you always made that very clear, not that Steve suggested something like this. Tommy always joked about it to Carol and you looked disgusted and always voiced your opinions on it. 

What happened? 

Did the hurt change you so much?

Ray walks away from you and you turn around, walking back to Eddie when someone else steps in front of you and both Eddie and Steve sigh in annoyance. 

Billy Hargrove. Always there to ruin the night. 

“Getting bored of the freak?” 

The smile on your face falls, a sour expression takes over and you tense up. You can’t stand Billy. Not only does he keep trying to get in your pants while he has a thing going on with your friend, he also keeps insulting Eddie and picking fights with Steve, which shouldn’t be any of your concerns but something tells you that Steve’s bleeding nose and the bruise on Billy’s jaw has got something to do with you. 

“Fuck off, Billy,” you mumble, trying to move past him. He doesn’t let you. He steps in front of you and chuckles. 

“Don’t be like that, baby.”

You scrunch your face up in disgust, “don’t call me that.”

His eyes move up and down, he looks at your exposed skin and you suddenly regret wearing a low cut shirt. 

“Ray Parker, huh?” He smirks, licking his lips, “going for the jocks again? The freak ain’t doing a good job at satisfying you? You know, you can just come to me instead of going for some retired team captain.”

“Jesus, shut up, Billy.”

Billy chuckles, his eyes twinkle with lust as he continues to stare at you, “when will you stop playing hard to get? We both know that you will end up under me at some point.” 

If you didn’t feel disgusted by him already, you would definitely be now. Anger rushes through you and you roll your eyes. 

“Keep dreaming, Hargrove.” 

"Oh, I will." 

You clench your jaw as you look into his blue eyes. You hate the cocky look on his face, the self assured expression that he always has. The smirk that he wears. God, you want to punch him. 

You go to walk past him and surprisingly, he lets you walk away this time but then he says something that makes your blood boil. 

“Yeah be a good girl and run back to the freak, no one else will fuck that loser.” 

You halt in your tracks and you clench your fists. You had always been protective over your friends but especially him. Eddie may be good at pretending that the bullying doesn’t get to him, he learned to ignore them or to throw some punchlines back but you are not going to stand by and watch how others degrade and belittle him. 

You turn back around and his smirk grows when he notices how angry you look. 

“I never thought you’d be into some trailer trash a–” 

You never punched someone before but you always wanted to know what it feels like to slam your fist into someone’s face, someone that you can’t stand. You didn’t think that it would hurt so bad but the look on his face and the bruise that he will wear later on, makes it all worth it. 

His head snaps to the side and he looks stunned for a moment. 

You hear the gasps around you, the chuckles from a few boys. 

A part of you expects him to hit you back, you are no stranger to his anger issues. The reaction you get isn’t one that you expected though. He furrows his brows and suddenly he bursts into laughter, his eyes flash with amusement and his pupils dilate even further. 

You want to punch him again. 

“Shit baby, I’m even more into you now,” he smirks. 

A groan of disgust falls from your lips and you turn around to leave before he can do or say anything else. 

Eddie and Steve stand there with stunned looks on their faces. Eddie looks impressed and proud, a smirk is tugging at his lips. 

Steve’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in surprise. Out of all the things he expected to see tonight, this wasn’t one of them. The feeling that rushes through him is intense. 

You should have punched him a long time ago. 

“That’s kinda hot.”

Eddie snorts at Steve’s words. 

Yeah, it was hot. 

“Damn, sweetheart,” Eddie whistles, smirking as you walk back to him. He sees the way your eyes flash with confusion when you notice Steve next to him. “I didn’t know you had such a mean right hook.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. You don't even acknowledge him.

“He had that coming.” 

Eddie throws his arm around you, he pulls you into his chest and leans down to kiss your cheek sloppily, not caring that your ex boyfriend is staring. 

“That’s my girl.”

He wonders what Billy said to you to make you this mad. 

“You gonna hit me next, big girl?” Eddie jokes. 

You giggle, biting down on your lip, you look into Eddie’s amused eyes, completely dismissing his presence. You pull away from him, he looks at you curiously, eyeing the smugness in your eyes. Before he can react, you reach your arm behind him and slap his ass. 

Eddie’s jaw drops at the smack he received, he snorts at your action, squinting his eyes at you, he tries to give you a mean look which only makes you giggle again. You step back when you realize what he’s about to do. Just as he tries to swat your ass, you run off, giggling. 

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to run after you, trying to catch you. Your laughter is loud as you run away from him, pushing past the groups of people as you near the forest.

Steve's brows are still raised and his face is still stunned. 

Many emotions went through him today; anger, sadness, irritation, jealousy but mostly confusion.

He watches Eddie grabbing you from behind, he hears your squeal and he sees the way Eddie kisses your cheek, again.

He blinks and forces himself to look away, only now noticing how wrong it still feels to see you with him.

But it's not wrong, right?

It's not wrong because you aren't his anymore.

He let go of you because you had asked him to, because he loves her, because he wants to spend his life with her.

He still has love for you, he always will but you are a part of his past now, a past that keeps calling him. The past that keeps haunting him in his mind and in his dreams.

Sometimes when he can't sleep at night, he stares at the telephone on his nightstand and he wonders what it would be like to call you, to hear your voice again, to ask you how you are doing, to ask if you are happy with the life you are living now that you are strangers to each other.

Sometimes he wants to call but he never does. You won't pick up the phone. He is sure of that.

But, if you called, he would pick up the phone, anytime, without hesitation.

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @hellfire--cult @screammunson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @xxhellfiregirlxx @trashmouth-richie @somethingvicked

[greg-montgomery]

Friends to lovers with hotch. Bau!Reader has been pining forever but is deciding to move in after seeing Aaron and Beth be with each other. New guy also happens to be a single dad with a boy in jacks grade. Jack is not happy about another boy stealing his mom figure yk? Father son duo working together to get the girl.

Tbh idc what you write coz its always good. And im a sucker for jealous hotch ALWAYS

okay can i just say that when i saw this ask i got obsessed with the concept immediately!!! like that’s so cute???? also while writing this i was thinking “jack is such a little sweetie he wouldn’t have an attitude” but then i thought of this tiktok and remembered he can actually be salty af <33 LMFAOO

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Jack hadn’t spoken a word the entire ride from school. Aaron was used to his bubbly sweet voice filling the car, telling him all about his day; so the silence was deafening.

“Nothing,” he replied, dropping his small bag on the floor and running to his room.

The truth was, Jack had been pretty moody lately and it was all because of you. Well, it wasn’t your fault of course, but it was your absence that had Jack throwing tantrums in a way he never used to before.

As Aaron’s best friend, your presence in his house, in his home, was a constant. Movies, dinners, board game nights…Jack had grown used to you. And he absolutely adored you.

When Beth came into Aaron’s life, though, things started to change. You were pulling away from him, from them. At first, Aaron thought that maybe you were jealous; and if that was true, he would drop Beth in a heartbeat and run into your arms. After all, she was only a distraction to him in order to get over you.

All those dreams of him were shuttered one day, when he had called to ask you if you’d join him and Jack for a movie night, only to be told you had a date: a date with the dad of one of Jack’s classmates. You told him the two of you met when you went to pick up Jack from school one day, and Aaron cursed the moment he had asked for your help. If he knew the dads there would be all over you, he wouldn’t have let you set foot into that damned school in the first place.

“Jack?” Aaron said, knocking on his door.

“Go away!”

“Jack, please talk to me. I want to help.”

There was a long pause before Jack finally opened the door and let his dad in.

“What did you do to her?” he asked with tears in his eyes.

“Buddy, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N. Why isn’t she your friend anymore?” Jack looked incredibly sad and it broke Aaron’s heart.

“We’re still friends,” he answered, softly. “What makes you think we’re not?”

“She’s never here anymore.”

“I know,” Aaron said. “But that doesn’t mean she’s not our friend anymore. We’ve just both been busier than usual.” He wasn’t technically lying, but he still felt bad.

“Why couldn’t you get together like they do in the movies?” Jack raised his voice. “Now she’s with Charlie’s dad. And she packs Charlie lunch and makes him sandwiches that look like dinosaurs like she used to do with me! It’s not fair, she was ours first!”

Well, that explained why he was so mad after school today.

Aaron couldn’t find any words to say, and how could he when he was just as jealous as his son? Jack was right; you were theirs first. And they’d win you back.

--

“And dad told me we’ll go get ice cream later with Y/N!” Charlie exclaimed, but Jack did not share his enthusiasm.

“Okay,” Jack answered, rolling his eyes.

“And maybe we’ll go to the movies after. She said she loves watching cartoons! She doesn’t think they’re boring like all grown ups,” the kid continued, not realizing he was making Jack upset.

“I know, we watch cartoons all the time together,” he replied.

Right next to them, their fathers had a separate conversation, but very much similar to theirs.

“The kid loves her already,” Charlie’s dad, Nick, said, watching you from afar. They were all waiting for you to finish your little chat with that teacher friend of yours, so they’d finally leave the school building.

“And how can he not, I mean she’s so great,” he added.

“She is,” Aaron agreed, though gritted teeth.

“I’ll take them for ice cream now so they can bond a little more. This girl loves ice cream.”

“Yeah, I know.” Who did that guy think he was? Thinking that any detail about you would be news to Aaron. Of course he knew you loved ice cream. He knew you better than anyone. Anyone.

“Sorry!” you said, walking fast towards their little group. “I hadn’t seen my friend in a while.”

“That’s alright.”

“It’s okay.”

Aaron and Nick talked at the same time, which ended in them sending annoyed glances to each other.

“Well, we better get going then,” you said with a smile.

As all of you walked out of the building, Aaron heard you telling something to Nick and Charlie. “Can you wait for me in the car? I’ll be back in a minute!”

To Aaron’s surprise you approached his car with one eyebrow raised. Oh no, you were mad.

“Y/N,” he said, but you cut him off.

“Why are the two of you being mean to Nick and his son?”

“We’re not mean to them,” Aaron said, but Jack’s voice was louder. “Because we hate them!” he said.

“Jack.”

“What? It’s true. You said that Mr. Nick is ugly and a jerk!”

“Jack, language!” his dad scolded him.

You turned your gaze to Aaron. “Is this true?”

He sighed, in defeat. “Jack, can you please get in the car? I want to speak with Y/N.”

“Fine,” he said, and followed his dad’s request.

“So?” you said when you were finally alone.

“So…I may have said some things about Nick.”

“Why?” your soft voice asked.

“Because, I can’t stand the thought of him with you. God, Y/N, I can’t do this anymore. I want you. I want you to be mine. I wanna be the one who takes you for ice cream and the one who brags about you to the other dads.”

“Aaron…”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way-”

“Of course, I feel the same way, you idiot,” you said. “But then Beth showed up and I thought it was one sided!”

“Beth’s in the past.”

“She is?”

“Yes. She didn’t mean anything to me. It’s always been you,” Aaron admitted.

“Wow…” you said, placing your palm on your forehead.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I have two people waiting for me in the car right now. And I don’t want to just  blow them off.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll talk to Nick tonight. I promise,” you said, touching his hand. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Aaron smiled.

“She touched your hand,” Jack said with a smirk when his dad got back in the car.

Aaron stared at him through the rearview mirror with furrowed eyebrows, but Jack could read him very easily. So he just giggled.

--

“Ew!” Jack yelled, his face forming a disgusted expression at the sight of you and Aaron kissing.

“Hey, you got your wish!” Aaron told him. “You should be grateful.”

“You know what I think?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“That our little Jack is jealous because he’s not getting any kisses.”

“No!” he giggled, as you and Aaron chased him, ready to cover his chubby cheeks with sweet kisses.

[reiding-writing]

hello!!!! could i get a continuation fic for "breaking the ice"? this time it could be like after a hard case and reader actively seeks out spencer for comfort (CONGRATS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!!! <33)

BREAKING DOWN [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˈbreɪ.kɪŋ daʊn/

spencer just wants to be there for you when you need him, but you get overwhelmed by his constant worrying and push him away, only to crawl right back into his embrace when you really need it.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, reader is mean to spencer in the beginning but apologises later, child death, guilt, reader having an emotional breakdown, angst to hurt/comfort

spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.4k | climacteric event

a/n: hit two birds with one stone for this one, god sometimes i forget how much i like writing characters suffering man-

this fic is a continuation of ‘breaking the ice’, but can be read as a stand alone!

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

climacteric event masterlist!!

You felt like an idiot the first time Spencer caught you crying, failing to compose yourself in the office bathroom for no good reason and looking like an absolute wreck because your brain had just decided it wanted to ruin your day.

There’d been a few times since then when he’d caught you on the brink of a breakdown, but you’d masked them better the more he tried to look into your psyche.

“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” He said those few months ago. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

That was all said and good but it didn’t mean that you wanted him to be there whenever you were overwhelmed or emotional. Sometimes you needed the space to work through your emotions on your own.

“Reid. Leave me alone.” You turn to him sharply, impatience written all over your features.

He’d been asking you about your emotions for the past fifteen minutes after noticing you turn down one of the sugary treats Garcia had brought into the office and using the small amount of favouritism you had towards him as leeway in terms of you not getting angry.

But you had your breaking point even with him.

The harshness spilling from your lips wasn’t something that was ever directed at him, so much so that it actually took him a second to register that it was him you were snapping at and not some invisible person standing behind him.

He didn’t even have time to respond to you. You were already around the corner by the time he’d come back to his senses.

He didn’t bother you after that.

At all.

There was no small talk at the beginning of the office days, no conversations on the jet between cases. He stopped waiting for you before leaving the office and picking you up coffee on days he knew you’d be late.

It threw you back in time to the first few years of working with him. And it seemed that the rest of the team was feeling the inherent ‘nostalgia’ as well, and not in a good way.

The small lingering glances and silent conversations you’d engage in had completely disappeared, and not having Spencer has the bridge of proper communication between you and the rest of the team made merging your psychological profile with the main behavioural profile for your most recent case three steps longer than it needed to be.

Because he was basically refusing to speak to you. Following your instructions to a T.

It didn’t help that it was a child case either. You always seemed to have issues with those. You worked twice as fast, but also made twice as many mistakes, and without someone like Spencer to filter your thoughts through to make sure that they were all objective it meant that your profile was lagging behind.

The child you were looking for died before you found him.

And by the time you’d reached the jet to fly back to Virginia, you’d already internalised his death as your fault.

You kept yourself together through the airport, through boarding and take-off and until you watched your team members fall into a blanket of uneasy sleep as everyone tried to brush off the emotional wreckage that they’d seen over the last few days and detach themselves from the child they’d failed to save.

You were usually pretty good at that part.

Separating yourself from your work came naturally for you, and it was something you were extremely grateful for when getting rest after a particularly hard case. But children were different.

They always were. Especially when it felt like you had a personal hand in their death.

With an internal sigh you accepted your fate of staring at the beige walls of the jet’s cabin until you inevitably couldn’t take it anymore and barricaded yourself in the bathroom for the remainder of the flight.

Now’s about the time where you’d probably distract yourself by starting Spencer on a tangent. Getting him to talk about something that was completely unrelated to the case you’d just sat through to drown out the voices inside of your head and allow you to rest peacefully despite yourself.

But you couldn’t do that right now.

Half because Spencer was already asleep and half because you’d pushed him away.

And now you had to lie in the hole you’d created for yourself.

You didn’t even end up making it into the bathroom.

You curled your legs up into yourself in the corner chair you’d bagged yourself, rested your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your palms as the tears started a steady flow down your cheeks.

It was honestly one of the worst feelings in the world. Curled up into yourself with your hands cupped over your mouth to keep your staggered breathing quiet enough to not wake the other agents sleeping around the cabin.

As you sat there, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret for pushing Spencer away.

His concern was always genuine, his presence a source of comfort even when you didn't realise you needed it. Now, in the silence of the jet cabin, his absence felt like a void.

Each tear that slipped from your eyes felt like another weight added to the burden you were already carrying.

The familiar ache in your chest threatened to consume you as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over and wake your teammates.

Despite the exhaustion pulling at your bones, sleep remained unobtainable, lost in the emotional maze of regret and self-blame that you’d managed to lose yourself in to the point where you couldn’t even stand up to give yourself some privacy.

You felt utterly alone, isolated by your own actions in every sense of the word. Each passing minute stretched on for what felt like hours, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your thoughts.

You weren’t quiet enough apparently, and you hear a small shift from the long sofa to your right as your emotional breakdown seemingly catches someone’s ears to the point where they’ve woken up.

“…are-” Spencer’s voice is quiet and mildly groggy as he wakes from the sounds of your internal anguish, and he cuts himself off before getting his whole question out.

You wanted him to leave you alone.

“sorry…” He shifts onto his side until his back is facing you, not wanting to pry if you were uncomfortable with it but also not willing to watch you break down if he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.

“I’m not okay Reid…” Your words are caught in between stunted breaths and shaking movements. “I need help-”

Your words sent an ache right through his heart that made him think it was going to split in two. He can hear the tremor in your voice, the shakiness in your tone as you force yourself to be vulnerable with him. And it makes him want to join you in a fit of tears.

If you were actively reaching out like this, it had to be bad.

“I know…” His voice is barely above a whisper as he slowly turns his body, still hesitant to look you in the eyes but wanting to see your expression.

He doesn’t know if you want comfort or advice, but he knows which he’d prefer to give as his eyes land on your face and take in the sight of you, curled up into yourself with tear stains tracking down your cheeks in the cabin’s low lighting.

“But I don’t know how to…” The silence is the worst part of the conversation from his end of things – a silence that was deafeningly loud. His eyes dart between the cabin door and you.

But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t get up, or get closer. He just stays put.

He doesn’t know what to do.

“Tell me how to help you…”

“I don’t-” You barely get the chance to start speaking before your crying renders you effectively mute, your throat filled with sobs that leave your mouth into the palm of your hand as you attempt to silence yourself and not ruin anyone else’s slumber.

He can see your fingers trembling as you hold back the noise. From across the aisle, Spencer watches the way you shake until his stomach ties in a knot just from seeing you distressed.

But there’s nothing he can do.

“Can I try something?” He murmurs his words softly, like he’s afraid of frightening you further as he pulls himself upright on the couch seat to plant his feet firmly on the floor.

You answer him with a nod, too unstable to even think about trying to answer him verbally under the threat of breaking down further.

He pads across the aisle deftly, taking a seat in the chair beside your own and deftly bringing his arm across the back of your shoulders to rub lines against your back.

It’s a somewhat pathetic pat, a mix of fatigue and hesitation mixing in his movements and making his attempt at comforting you feel clumsy and mildly awkward.

But he was trying, and that was the main point.

The awkwardness really held no ground under your inherent need to just feel comforted in the moment, and you take no note of it as you turn your head into Spencer’s shoulder with your hand still cupped over your mouth as you tremble under his arms.

His hand becomes a little more confident once you accept his attempts.

He didn’t know how to help you.

He didn’t know how to soothe you.

And the thought of not being able to save you from yourself was tearing him up inside.

But the least he could do was this.

Spencer’s touch is gentle as he places his other hand onto the back of your head, fingers brushing along your hairline as he encourages you further into his embrace.

There’s nothing he should say right now, nothing he could say right now.

Whatever would come from him would be a string of false assurances he wasn’t sure he would even believe himself.

Instead, he settles for the soft touches, his gentle fingers and trying to soften your breathless sobs into something less heartwrenching.

It felt mildly awkward to be the source of someone else’s comfort — he’d usually been on the receiving end of it — but it was working, and he could slowly feel your shoulders relax under his hands, your sobs reducing to small sniffles as you calmed under Spencer’s influence.

“Breathe…” He whispered the words quietly against the top of your head, making a show of taking deep breaths that you could feel against his chest as a silent instruction for you to mirror.

The rise and fall of his chest underneath your hand was crucial in helping you slowly regulate your breathing to match his, the remnants of sniffles that caught in your throat slowly dissipating until they were non-existent.

The peak of your distress slowly eludes you as you sink down to a gradual calm, and the harsh beating of your heart against your sternum was slowly regulating itself as well until it was soft enough that it didn’t ring in your ears.

Spencer remains quiet as he continues to rub gentle lines over your spine. If he kept you him his grasp like this for long enough, your fatigue might catch up to you and make you fall asleep. And that would be alright with him.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you for trying to help me,” You air out your half-apology once you’re confident enough that speaking won’t send you down another spiral, your words muffled slightly against his shirt.

It’s a sudden break to the small pocket of silence you’d created, and Spencer’s hand pauses for a fleeting second before continuing to trace its path over your back. “You were stressed and I pushed a limit, it was understandable…”

He wouldn’t lie to you and say that everything was alright and he didn’t take it personally. It did hurt for you to be so harsh to him, but hearing you try to apologise made it feel a little better at least.

“I just wanted to help…”

“I know…” You turn your head further into his shoulder until your face is hidden in the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry,”

Your apology, voiced properly this time, elicited a small sigh from his lips, and he adjusted his arm around you to accommodate the new position you were in.

The feeling of somebody leaning on him, relying on him so much for comfort was a rather novel experience. He liked his distance, his personal space, and his preference for not being touched always trumped anything else. But this was different.

“Don’t apologise…” Spencer shakes his head against yours as he murmurs out his words. “Just rest…”

You give him a small hum as your only indication of acknowledging his suggestion, letting out a small yawn into his neck as the consequences of your emotional breakdown catch up to you and riddle your body with fatigue.

You were practically melting into him by now, your weight resting against his side, but Spencer wasn’t complaining.

It made you seem so vulnerable, so small and relaxed and different from how you usually presented yourself to the world.

Once your yawn reached his ears he knew your body was preparing to slip into unconsciousness.

But he couldn’t bring himself to move away from you.

He’d seen you fall asleep before; he’d seen the way your mouth had parted slightly right before a small snore left your lips, the delicate rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evened out and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you fell into a dream.

He didn’t want to interrupt his comfort by moving away. So he didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to hold you for a little bit longer.

[cupid-styles]

lucky* (single dadrry x art teacher!yn check-in)

word count: 2.6k

content warnings: kids/family talk, fluffy smut (grinding, mentions of m receiving oral), not ramadan friendly!

based on this one-shot

. . .

From: Harry

Riley asked if he could tag along tonight. I was able to distract him with dino nuggets, but that kid has the memory of a full grown adult, I swear.

To: Harry

lmao. he can come hang with us, you know he’s always welcome here 

From: Harry

And let him take all of your attention after I haven’t seen you all week? Yeah, right.

I’ll be there at 7. 

To: Harry

is now a good time to tell you that i think your kid is way cooler than you are?

From: Harry

Come over and do the bedtime routine with us and you’ll think differently. x

Y/N bites away the smile edging at her lips as she looks up from her phone. She couldn’t help it — she always noticed the rush of happiness that swarmed through her body whenever she spoke to her boyfriend, especially about the prospects of plans. 

Her boyfriend.

She can’t believe that Harry is officially her boyfriend. Even though it happened a few weeks ago, she still finds herself in pockets of disbelief, mostly when they’re spending time together. She’ll glance over at him and take in his side profile, or remember that day when he came in, so angry at her for allowing Riley’s hair to be soaked with paint, and flush with the realization that somehow that turned into a real, loving relationship. One with mutual respect and care, one that was handled carefully, especially given the fact that there was a child involved. Y/N hadn’t ever dated someone who already had a kid, so she and Harry had multiple conversations regarding expectations and the changes this may incur on Riley’s life. 

Ultimately, they chose to keep most of the relationship away from Riley until things got more serious. She and Harry had every intention of being in the long haul together, but they both knew it wouldn’t be helpful to any of them if they threw in Riley’s comfort and mental stability. For now, all he knew was that his dad had a new friend who he liked very much, and sometimes he went to go see her and spend time with her. So far, it was working well.

Tonight, however, was the first night that she and Harry had decided they’d have a sleepover. It sounded ridiculous and childish, but Harry always struggled with leaving Y/N’s place early enough to catch Riley before he went to bed. He beat himself up when he got home and he was already tucked in and snoozing. So Y/N suggested having a scheduled night that they dedicated just to them: He’d get to put Riley to bed himself and do his entire winddown routine with him (dinner, a bath, reading him multiple books since Harry was a sucker and couldn’t say no, and finally planting a kiss to his cheek when his sleepy eyes finally began to close), the babysitter would stay the night, and Harry would shuffle off to Y/N’s. 

It was a good plan. 

Except… well, except that they hadn’t slept in the same bed together yet, and their touching hadn’t gone past kissing and heavy petting. It was difficult — it had nothing to do with their attraction for one another, they were busy, and it wasn’t exactly optimal to jerk your boyfriend off when he was disappointed at himself for missing his son’s bedtime. 

But Y/N and Harry are grown adults, and they’re aware of the underlying meaning of tonight. She knows it’s a big deal for him to place his trust in her after putting his own happiness and love life on the backburner for so long. 

It’s why she’s spent the day scampering around her townhouse, sweeping, mopping, doing laundry, and doing everything she can to make the place as comfortable as possible for him. He’s spent many evenings here — he often comes over for dinner after work since his days at the office run longer than hers at the art studio — but it’s different when you spend an entire night somewhere new. She wants her blankets and pillows to smell cozy and feel even fluffier; her bedroom a calm oasis so even if he begins to worry — whether it be about Riley, or other subject matters — he won’t feel as overwhelmed and nervous.

When 7 finally ticks along, Harry, as usual, appears at her front door, prompt and anxious. He hasn’t voluntarily left RIley alone for an entire night unless it was for a business trip. But the second Y/N answers the door with that pretty smile he adores, his nerves melt just a tad. She almost immediately pulls him in for a hug, a chuckle vibrating through his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to her hair.

“Miss me that much?” he teases. He sets his duffel bag down in the entryway of her home and she kicks the front door closed. Through flushed cheeks, she grins.

“It’s been ages,” she pouts, standing on her tippy-toes to lightly peck his lips, “And I’ve never gotten you for the night. I’m excited.”

Harry’s chest contracts slightly at her words. He doesn’t know how, but she has a way of making even the scariest things seem approachable, and it makes him want to smother her with kisses until she’s pushing him away. Keeping a grasp on his hand, she guides him into the townhouse he’s grown familiar with. He notices that her kitchen is free from its typical small messes — half-empty glasses, crumbs from late night snacks — and she has a new candle burning on the coffee table in the living room. 

“Did you clean for me?” Harry asks with a smirk. Again, she blushes before turning to face him. 

“I just wanted you to be comfortable,” she explains, sucking on her bottom lip, “It’s a big deal. Y’know?”

“It is a big deal.” he agrees as he issues her hand a small squeeze, “And I wouldn’t want to take this step with anyone else. I hope you know that.”

A wide grin covers her face. 

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky with him.

. . .

Y/N’s tucked into Harry’s side as their third romantic comedy of the night plays on TV. Glancing down at the warm, dead weight curled around his form, he smiles gently when he sees her eyes batting closed. He nudges her lightly.

“Wanna go to bed, baby?”

She hums tiredly and sits up slightly, pressing her chin to his chest to look up at him. 

“What time is it?” she asks, covering her mouth with her hand as a yawn struggles to strain free. He unlocks his phone, his screen glowing to life with a picture of a smiling Riley holding up a painting he did in Y/N’s class. 

“Just past midnight,” he replies, stretching his arms out. His tee-shirt rises up a bit to reveal a bit of his inked hips and it makes Y/N swallow. 

“Sorry this wasn’t a super fun evening,” she replies with a pout. She stands from the couch and leans over to grab their empty glasses — they’d each had a serving of wine each, but the minor buzz was long gone by now, despite Y/N being ever the lightweight. “Maybe next time we’ll plan something big, like… I dunno. Something good.”

She’s chattering sleepily and it makes Harry chuckle. He follows her into the kitchen, hugging her from behind as she rinses the cups in the sink. 

“This has been perfect,” he murmurs lowly before pressing a kiss to her temple. “We don’t need to plan anything for it to be fun. I just like being in your presence.”

She warms as she dries the freshly cleaned glasses, gently placing them in the rack on the counter. 

“You’re too sweet.” she mumbles. She shuts the water off and turns in his grasp to face him, lurching forward to bury her head in his neck. “C’mon then, let’s go to bed. You almost fell asleep on the couch.”

He snorts at her joke and rolls his eyes when she looks up at him with that dumb, cheeky grin she loves to flash at him. With their fingers intertwined, he bends down to grab his bag before following her to her bedroom. 

He’s been in here several times before — on evenings when she’s particularly exhausted, he’ll help her wind down for bed, pecking her lips before driving home. One time, when Harry had an awful day at work, Y/N ran him a warm shower, complete with fancy lavender-scented steam that he’s been meaning to ask her about ever since. Despite being semi-familiar with the space, their more intimate time was often being cut short for fears of Harry missing bedtime with Riley, or Y/N needing to wake up early the following morning.

This time, however, there was nothing stopping them. No deadlines, no places to be. The knowledge made them both buzz with excitement and nerves.

Her bedroom is dim as they quietly shuffle around, changing out of their clothes and into pajamas. Harry’s the first to crawl into her cozy bed, nibbling on his bottom lip as he scrolls on his phone. Y/N flicks the single lamp off and allows the moonlight to seep through the curtains of her window, yawning once more as she climbs in next to him.

“Everything alright?” she asks softly. Harry hums, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. 

“Yeah. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything from the babysitter.”

“Mm,” Y/N nods. She purses her lips, forming a gentle kiss at his jawline. “You still feel okay about staying overnight?”

A smile cracks at the edges of his lips. He locks his phone and places it on the nightstand before flipping onto his side to face her. 

“I’d be lying if I said a piece of my heart wasn’t still at my own place with Riley, but I’m so happy to be here with you. I promise.”

She swallows as she reaches out to thumb at his bottom lip. “You’re cute.”

“Am I?”

She giggles, “You are, and you know it.”

His eyes flutter shut as she begins to trace his features. With featherlight strokes of her fingertips, she ghosts over his lips, his chin, down to his throat and collarbones. He hums softly at the feeling, her other hand hovering over the hem of his tee-shirt as she silently waits for permission to push the fabric up. 

“What’re you doing?” he whispers out, eyes flickering open as she curls her fingers around the bottom of his shirt. 

“Is it okay if I make you feel good?” 

He pauses. Swallows, and she removes her hands from his form. 

“You can say no,” she quickly tacks on, “Please say no if you’re not 100%. I need you to be comfortable.”

His throat bobs. “It’s just… you know.”

She nods. They haven’t spoken about Harry’s anxiety surrounding physical intimacy since their first date, but she hasn’t forgotten about it. It’s been an active decision to move slowly and she would never want to do anything to push him past his limits. 

“We can just go to sleep,” she murmurs, “It’s okay. I promise.”

He catches her wrist in a gentle grasp, lips parting as if he’s surprised by his own bravery. Slowly, he guides her down to his crotch, where he’s tenting in his sweatpants. Y/N bites her lip before allowing her mouth to form around a small oh in fear of making him feel self-conscious. 

“I need to know that you’re sure,” she whispers in the darkness of her bedroom. Despite the limited light, she can still recognize his facial expressions, watching as a small wrinkle carves itself between his eyebrows. He’s nervous, that much she can tell. The rest is a mystery.

“I just need you to be slow,” he rasps. “It’s been… it’s been a long time, Y/N.”

She nearly coos out a response, wanting nothing more than to love and take care of the man that lays beside her. When he lets go of her hand, she cups him softly through the material of his bottoms, slightly surprised at how hard he feels. 

“You can trust me. I promise.” 

He nods, and it’s a flurry of shaky, hesitant movements and constant asks of reassurance from there. Everytime she pushes her foot on the gas, she reminds herself to stop and make sure he’s comfortable. He doesn’t ask to stop; not when she’s pulling down his sweatpants or mouthing at him through the fabric of his briefs, not when she’s drooling onto the ruddy head of his length or pressing her fingernails into his laurel-inked hips.

Harry is louder in bed than she had anticipated, or maybe it’s because it’s just been so long for him. He allows strained moans and curses to fall from his plush lips when she guides him into his mouth, and he even tangles a fist in her hair when the tip of his cock bumps down her throat. She thinks he’ll cum when she swallows around him, feeling his balls tighten in her free hand but he stops himself. She knows he does because he tips her head back and stares down at her with rounded eyes, taking her chin between his fingers and gently urges her up the length of his body. She obeys wordlessly, allowing him to move her however he deems fit. 

“I wanna see you when I cum,” he eventually explains breathily. She nods, ignores the way her heart feels like it grows another size in her chest, and straddles his hips.

“Is it okay if I grind on you? Or do you want me to just use my hand?”

“You can grind on me,” he replies with a nod, tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. And when she rolls her hips down against his, it’s magic — the wetness between them emits a dirty, slushy sound (admittedly, Y/N is half to blame, since she couldn’t possibly go down on her boyfriend without making a sticky mess between her own legs). Harry pants loudly beneath her and his hands find purchase on her thighs as she moves, allowing his length to slick between her pussy lips. 

It doesn’t take much for him to finish after that — especially not with his sleepy-eyed girlfriend on top of him, whimpering softly at the sensation of his tip bumping against her clit. When he comes, it’s a lot, and it’s messy, but Y/N can’t find it in her to care much as she leans down to smother Harry’s face in kisses; the pride in her chest for him growing to a point where it can’t be kept inside anymore.

“‘M so proud of you,” she mumbles. Harry laughs and wrinkles his nose as he wraps an arm around her waist, guiding her onto her side. 

“Jesus, it’s not like I have erectile dysfunction,” he jokes, and Y/N rolls her eyes. "And you didn't come, either."

“This wasn't about me— and you know what I mean, Harry. I know this means a lot. For you, for both of us.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his face turning serious. “I didn’t know if I would ever find someone as caring or genuine as you. You’re so… gentle with me, it’s almost like I’m dreaming.”

Y/N smiles and reaches out to cup his cheek with her hand. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“I know you are,” he says, taking her hand into his and pressing kisses to her knuckles, “And I’m so lucky for that.”

[josephquinnswhore]

Her Sanctuary

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you start pulling away from Joel, he’s scared he’s going to lose you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of anxiety, bad mental health. Joel talking about Sarah!!! 😭 soft Joel!!!!! Hurt/comfort.

Note: kinda just wrote this on a whim after rewatching the last of us. I miss joel. @cool-iguana ily.

You were an outspoken person. About everything. There wasn’t a single topic you didn’t have an opinion on. Always a snarky reply, a joke, or following pun. That’s just who you were.

Joel spent months wishing you weren’t like that. That you’d just shut up so he could have a few moments of silence between you. His limited replies included a scowl, raised eyebrow or an annoyed grunt. He spent months travelling across the country with you, refusing to open up and reluctantly teaching you how to shoot his rifle.

He didn’t like how you made him feel. How he had started looking at you romantically. The sound of your laugh stirred something in him. Your bright eyes lightened the darkness in his own.

He never allowed himself to let you in; as much as a fight he put up. You wormed yourself into the cracks in the walls around his heart and started to mend him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, all he can remember is wanting to hear more of her laugh, he even found her a joke book in an old RV he scouted one evening at the trailer park they posted in overnight.

He had learned how to accept your brightness, for all its worth. Your dorky comments, crooked grin and boisterous laugh. Even those small touches to his back and arm when you would pass by, excusing yourself. Always followed by a mumbled, “sorry.”

But this.. this he didn’t know what to do. He was tearing himself up inside for not knowing what to do. You were quiet today, something bubbling inside of you that radiated off and in between them in a depressing aura that had Joel feeling breathless.

He even found himself staring at you, from the corner of his eyes, turning his head to watch you, making sure you kept up as you lingered a few steps behind him, completely silent. Not laughing, not crying. Silent.

It was heart wrenching and he couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces together to finish the puzzle. Nothing extreme had happened that they hadn’t faced before. They’d fought off some infected yesterday but—it couldn’t have possibly been that. They were fine. They survived.

Maybe you just wasn’t coping as well as he thought you were.

He tried to think of things to cheer you up, and the guilt consumed him when he realised he didn’t really know much about you. He had never asked. It was always you asking about him, pestering to know more about him. He cursed himself for being so selfish.

The harsh reality of their one sided dynamic hit Joel hard, he had always protected her, with his physical strength and ability to kill. That primal instinct that kept them both alive and for what? He couldn’t help her when she actually needed.

He felt utterly useless.

Until. He had an idea. That stupid fucking joke book that she treasured, had to cheer her up right? It had to draw out one of those loud laughs that made his insides flip, the smile that made your eyes squint that his heart craved to see.

He reached into his pack, pulling it out. She’d stashed it in there, insisting that her pack had no more room. He didn’t argue, he knew she struggled carrying the weight. He decided that day that he could carry the extra burden for things that she decided she couldn’t bare.

This baggage however, was tricker. He would take it if he could. He hoped this would work.

He turns around to look at you and what he saw made him feel like there was a metal vice around his heart, your slumped shoulders and black eye bags complimented a vacant look in your eyes, you were unrecognisable in comparison to your default sunshine personality.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about that algae-bra joke you told me the other day.” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could when he spoke to you, trying to nudge a reaction.

Nothing, she barely looks at him. “Hm?”

“Anyways, I was thinkin’ we could pass the time with this.” He held the joke book in his hand, swinging his pack back over his shoulder, adjusting his rifle strap as he shuffles on his feet.

You felt a spark of something, something that was quickly put out by the fear and darkness that felt so consuming.

“Maybe later?” You offer quietly, walking past him. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Joel felt defeated. How had he failed so badly. How did he let this fester inside of her like a fucking disease that he didn’t know how to get rid of.

This was an infection in your mind; that he figured on his own. This kind of infection he didn’t know how to cure. He had always pushed his own anxiety and panic attacks down burying them, until he learnt to live with it.

But you; the one fucking good thing in his life that brought him life, hope. He wouldn’t allow you to ignore it, to let it consume you.

He wasn’t going to let you fall victim. He would do whatever it took.

He set up camp in silence, stuck in his head about how the fuck he was going to help you, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him as he sits by the fire, rubbing his hands together as you sit in your sleeping bag, across from him.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, legs pulled to your chest. It made you look smaller, the way you held yourself protectively. A reflection of the flames flicking in her eyes only made the mood more somber.

He can’t say something came over him, possessed him to say what he felt bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to lose her. To him, you were too important, you disarmed him and weaselled your way into his heart. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not ever.

“When my little girl used to get upset, she always shut me out like this, like what you’re doin’, I always told myself she’ll come around.” He nods to himself, as if reminiscing the memory.

You stay silent, watching him. Watching his expression soften.

“An’ now she’s gone it’s all I regret. Not doin’ more. Not making more of an effort with shit like that. Fuckin’ haunts me.”

Not once in the months they’ve travelled he had mentioned having children, a daughter, let alone a decreased one. He had mumbled a few times in his sleep, incoherently a name. Serine, Sari, Sarah? You could never figure it out, and never pried.

But here he was, sitting across from her looking on with longing eyes and his features the most relaxed she’d ever seen.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again, seein’ you like this, pullin’ away. Feels like I’m failin’ all over again.” His admission shocks you, enough to stun a quiet confession from your own lips before you could think.

“I thought you were going to die.” He seems surprised to hear you talking, but stays silent, wanting you to talk more, wanting to hear more.

“I know we’ve dealt with plenty of infected.. we’ve had some close calls even, sure.” Your heart clenched as you recall.

Joel lying on the ground with that infected on top of him, Joel’s gun inches away as he fumbles, fingertips desperately grasping the hairs of grass as he searched for his weapon.

Holding the infected away with one arm, grunting in a struggle that he was bound to lose. It’s rotten teeth and fleshy stench was so close to grazing Joel’s neck. Inches away from sealing his fate.

You had somehow mustered some courage inside of you to tackle the infected, throwing it off Joel and giving him a split second to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the back of the infected’s head.

Your jeans still stunk, of gunpowder and blood. A stench so vile you couldn’t help but relive the moment, it was on your mind every second, unable to process it all.

You almost lost Joel. Joel almost fucking died. It was a breath away.

“I thought if I just—shut down maybe you’d get tired and ditch me.. worse yet I’d stop caring about you so damn much.” Joel’s ears perked at her soft admission.

“And I know you think I’m just—some annoying fucking girl that you have to protect and feed and I’m sorry..“ Joel wouldn’t allow another word.

“Hey. Look at me, now.” His tone was soft, but held a firmness, there was no doubt he wasn’t asking you. He needed you to look at him.

His face looked so soft beyond the flames of the fire, his expression was tender and kind; as no one had ever seen before. He looked beautiful, fuck, he was handsome. You’d always thought so.

“I know it was a close call, we’ve learnt from it, yeah? We won’t make the same mistake.” You nod, Joel continues.

“Don’t pull away from me sweetheart. Please.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupts by patting the space beside him.

“C’mere sweetheart. C’mon.” You don’t waste a moment to plop beside him. He wraps his sleeping bag around you and his big hands grip around your torso to pull you into his.

“Tell me you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For the first time since you’ve known Joel. He was the one asking for comfort, reassurance.

“Promise I’m not going anywhere Joel.” You nuzzle into him, his natural musk strung a desire out of her that all she could do was lean into him.

“You get some rest now. I’ll keep ya safe.” He murmurs into her ear, a promise.

All you could do was obey him. Closing your eyes as your body and mind revelled in the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.

His head rested on top of yours, your hair gets stuck in the rugged coarse hairs of his beard. He finds himself nuzzling into you, allowing himself to get lost in you. After months of fighting you; he lets go. He lets you in.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let anything fucking hurt you. Not even yourself. He would be your sanctuary. No matter what it took.

[bhaal-baby]

Gods Damned Feelings

Word count: 1274

Rating: SFW

Pairing: Astarionx gn!Tav

Triggers: minor injury

Summary: Astarion struggles with his budding feelings as he takes care of Tav after they are downed in a fight.

Tav went down in a bloody heap. 

 Astarion all but shoved Shadowheart in their direction. “Help them. Now godsdamnit!” 

He couldn’t help the dread pooling in his stomach at the sight of them, prone and defenseless, as Shadowheart raced towards them. He stuck his dagger in the throat of the bastard who’d done it, kicking his lifeless body to the ground before dropping to his knees at Tav’s side. Shadowheart was already at work, channeling magic into them. Astarion watched as some of their wounds began to knit closed at her touch, but their eyes remained closed. “Are they going to be alright?” he asked, not liking the desperate tone in his voice. 

Shadowheart gave him an odd look. “They’re fine. They just need some rest. They took a serious blow to the head. We should get them back to camp.” 

She nodded to Gale, who knelt down to scoop them up. 

“Don’t.” Astarion cringed, hearing his own voice. “I’ve got them.” 

Gale shrugged, looking amused. He couldn’t place why, but the thought of Tav in his arms filled him with a rage he didn’t understand. Bloody bookworm would probably drop them anyway. 

The walk back to camp was a long one. Astarion’s arms burned against the weight of Tav’s body, slack and lifeless in his grip. He focused on the steady rise and fall of their chest, finding comfort in knowing they were still breathing. They were still here. 

He couldn’t understand the emotions coursing through him. He was never supposed to care like this. Their entire…whatever they had was a ruse. It wasn’t real. They were a mark, and he had them exactly where he wanted them. They were like all the rest, helpless to his honeyed words and easy charm. They desired him, and he desired something from them. It was supposed to be simple. 

But they weren’t like all the rest, were they? When he spoke they listened, hung on his every word. They cared about what he had to say, his past, the things he’d been through. They’d drawn the scars on his back so he could see them, and when they promised they would help him discern their meaning, he believed them. While they always acquiesced to his invitations to his bed, they never pushed. They never asked for more. It was as if they saw him for more than just his body. Astarion could have laughed at that thought, as unbelievable as it was. But still, the way they held him after a night together, the tender way their hands brushed against his chest like that was all they were after. No one had ever touched him so gently. 

Tav stirred slightly as Astarion set them down on their bedroll but they didn’t wake. They looked so small like this, all traces of the warrior he knew out on the battlefield, tearing through hoards of enemies, were gone. Their breathing was still steady, thank the gods, but they were in a state. Blood caked their face and clothes and a nasty bruise was forming on their forehead. Shadowheart would have to take another look at them once she’d rested and regained some of her magic. He knelt beside them, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear. 

Astarion hated this. He hated seeing Tav like this. He hated the feelings this whole situation was dredging up inside of him. He hated the longing because gods, he realized how much he longed to hold them. It wouldn’t do any good to deny it, he wanted them wholly and truly. It was fucking terrifying. He’d not allowed himself to want anything in so long, it never got him anywhere. Everything good in his life was swiftly taken from him, and he couldn’t bear to have them ripped away as well. Like they almost were today. 

He’d gone this long not getting what he wanted, so he figured it wouldn’t kill him this time. But still, he couldn’t leave them like this, bloodied and hurt. So he got to work. 

Astarion slowly and carefully lifted Tav up, propping their weight against his chest as he removed their ruined clothes. Shadowheart’s spell had closed the worst of their wounds, but blood still stuck to their skin, making the bruises and scrapes leftover look as grisly as ever. Tav mumbled something in their sleep as he gingerly set them back down. 

He tore some rags from bits of cloth he had in his pack while a pot of water boiled over the coals of the fire. He used them to wipe the blood from Tav’s face first, being as gentle as possible around the bruise forming above their eye before tending to the rest of them. He hoped they would forgive him for seeing them in such a vulnerable state, he knew he would hate such a thing. He breathed a sigh of relief once the blood was gone. Their injuries weren’t nearly as bad as they had looked before. 

Next, he collected their clothes, washed them in a nearby stream, and set to mending any holes he could with the sewing kit he kept in his pack. A few blood stains refused to wash out but overall, they were much better than they were before. After laying them out to dry near the fire, he returned to Tav’s side. 

They slept peacefully still, every once in a while mumbling something incomprehensible in their sleep. Astarion felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he watched. He might never know what it means to have them the way he so desperately wanted to; he didn’t trust his luck enough for that, but for the moment, he let himself pretend that they had something real. Something special, something no one could take away from him. Not Cazador. Not the Absolute. Not some asshole cultist out in the woods. He let himself pretend they might even have a future together when this was all over. 

That was all it was. Pretend. But even so, he knelt down beside them and placed a gentle kiss over the bruise on their forehead, longing for something real. 

Tav’s eyes opened slowly, blinking a few times before choking out, “Astarion?” 

He let out a shaky sigh. “Yes, love. I’m here.” 

They looked confused for a moment before cracking a weak smile. “Kiss me again.” 

Damn. How long had they been awake? But he couldn’t ignore the note of pleading in their voice, so he lowered his mouth to their forehead again. Tav made a happy noise in response, sending a bolt of electricity down his spine. 

Gods, he was fucked. 

“How long have you been watching me sleep?” Tav asked, a hint of mockery in their voice. 

“I was not watching you sleep.” he lied. “I was merely checking to make sure you hadn’t died. You’ve been asleep for hours.” 

Tav looked confused. “I have? Oh shit, that fight–I totally forgot. What happened?” 

“You nearly got yourself killed, thats what happened.” he chided. “Don’t do that again.” 

Tav chuckled. “Keep waking me up like that, and I’ll make a point of getting knocked out more often.” 

“Next time, I’ll rouse you with a bucket of cold water.”  Astarion deadpanned. 

“That’s more like it. I was worried you were going a little soft on me.” They laughed, wincing a bit as they did so. 

Astarion instinctively reached out to grab their hand, not wanting to see them in pain. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that that was exactly what was happening. Tav was making him softer, in all the best and worst ways.