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#( long fic )
burntheedges · 2 days
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Looong fic recs ✨
I'm still working on my own Pedro Pascal Fandom Bingo card 😂 and this is part of that. I was trying to decide what to do for the "create and share a rec list" square and thought about how much I like really long fics. So this is a short list of some of my favorites that are 100k words or more! (x reader unless otherwise marked)
Din
Be-All and Endor by @djarins-cyare (404k)
The World Is Light, Embodied by @davnittbraes (155k)
Joel
Cowboy Like Me by @macfrog (124k)
Something to Fight For by @auteurdelabre (166k)
Your Summer Dream by @swiftispunk (99k but I'm counting it because more is coming)
Dieter
Recovery Road by @chronically-ghosted (108k) (x OFC Natalie)
Frankie
Adrift With You by @morallyinept (120k words (so far?)) (x OFC Jude)
Shared Breaths by @frenchiereading (135k ish)
Between the Raindrops series by @jazzelsaur (148k) (thank you @secretelephanttattoo for the rec!)
Mr. Ben
Visiting by @ladamedusoif (99.3k and it's still in progress so I'm counting it! I'm still catching up)
do you have any recs for looong fics?? please share them!
my bingo card
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tinyywriterr · 1 day
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WHO WILL IT BE?
*+:。.。.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.。.。:+**+:。.。.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.。.。:+*
{Toji + POC Reader}
∘°∘♡∘°∘𝓒𝓗𝓐𝓟𝓣𝓔𝓡 𝓔𝓛𝓔𝓥𝓔𝓝 ~ 𝓓𝓔𝓒𝓘𝓢𝓘𝓞𝓝𝓢 & 𝓓𝓔𝓐𝓛𝓢∘°∘♡∘°∘
⟿ Song to Go with the Chapter: Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey [Toji + Reader theme song for this chapter] {literally like idk why I didn’t think of this song before}
⟿ Word Count: 4,900 +
⟿ First Toji + Reader smut scene | finally Toji fluff | Nanami + Reader smut scene
⟿ Summary: Over dinner Nanami asks Toji a question that really shocks you. They finally clue you in on their little scheme and you’re truly taken aback. You also somewhat come to the conclusion that you have feelings for Toji that same night. Around four months later Nanami decides to stay home just so you and Toji could go on a date together. Through out the past four months you’ve enjoyed having Toji around along with his son Megumi. It’s like you all are one big family which is something you could only dream about.
*+:。.。.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.。.。:+**+:。.。.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.。.。:+*
𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: contains smut, pet names, fluff, cream pie, fingering, oral sex, dom/sub, light brat taming, fem reader, black fem reader/you, and etc. [please don’t read if easily triggered or not 18 +]
◈━◈━◈━◈━◈
𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: 18+ please & please don’t copy and paste my story anywhere else. This chapter is slightly shorter then the last chapter by about 400 words. Mainly because I wanted to write some sweet moments and some smut before shit hits the fan again. BUT ANYWAYS, this is my first tumblr fic so if you leave a heart, reblog, or comment it’s greatly appreciated! If there are any errors I am open to anyone correcting me in the comments, leaving feedback, or dming me. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I did when I wrote this!
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
 
 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝒩𝒟 𝒪𝐹 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒦 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
 
 
When you woke up the next day and realized Toji didn’t leave so you knew Nanami was planning something. Throughout the whole week, all of you continued to have incredible sex and just enjoyed each other's company. Nanami finally was able to leave the house not worrying about you being home alone or bored. Along with being able to work on his bakery business having Toji around want half bad. Toji always took the opportunity whenever Nanami was gone to rock your world and when Toji would be gone for the day Nanami would do the same. It was amazing having the both of them separately or at the same time almost mind numbing truly. It was like the best dream ever but it came to life.
 
 
‘I wonder what Nanami said to him. I love both of them and could see a future with all of us together. But I could also just see me and Nanami together and inviting Toji over whenever. But there’s something about Toji,’ you think to yourself as you prepare dinner for everyone. Today you decided to make something you’ve been craving, Sunday dinner. It was something your mother would make on rare occasions or when you’d visited your grandmother. It consisted of baked chicken, yams, green beans, baked mac n cheese, and lastly some cornbread. It was kind of hard to find the cornbread box mix you liked so you decided to just follow a recipe of it you found online. You started early preparing the meal so it’d be ready around the time you and Nanami usually would have dinner. This is the first time you’ve cooked in a long time so you’re kind of nervous to see what the two men will think of an African American cultural dish. You plated the food and set down each plate at their respective spots before calling for them to come to the kitchen.
 
 
“Wow, y/n what smells so good?” Nanami asks as he comes into the kitchen waving the air to get a better smell.
 
 
“Fuck, I’m so hungry…” Toji groans as he takes his seat and digs in immediately.
 
 
“That’s what you get for not eating breakfast,” you tease smiling from ear to ear as you take your seat. Nanami sits down last rubbing your back as you begin to dig in as well.
 
 
“This is really good y/n! You said this was called ‘Sunday dinner’ back in the States? Maybe we should move there!” Toji jokes in between chuckles before returning his attention back to his plate. Nanami chuckles as well and starts to eat savoring every bite still lovingly rubbing your back with his free hand.
 
 
“Ya, it’s usually something you’d eat after church. My mom only made it a few times but when she did it was a cause for celebration,” you explain trying not to talk with your mouth open.
 
 
“This is really good and hardy y/n, you should cook more if you’re comfortable,” Nanami praises as he has finished his plate rubbing his stomach proudly.
 
 
“Where the fuck did your food go?” Toji says flabbergasted as he takes his last bite.
 
 
“I should be saying that to both of you,” you tease as you point at your food showing a still semi-full plate. Everyone erupts into laughter then soon after Nanami gets up to grab some whiskey from his office.
 
 
“I hope everyone wants a drink I already poured 3 cups,” Nanami says as he walks back with three glasses with 2 shots of whiskey in them. You and Toji nod thankfully as you both take a glass sipping on it and both of you puckering your lips after. “You guys are some wimps,” Nanami teases grinning softly before taking a long sip and not making a face after.
 
 
“You just like the taste. Grab me something to smoke it’ll go great with this whiskey,” You command waving at Nanami who shakes his head as he walks upstairs to grab you a cigarette. After a couple of minutes he comes back down and he grabbed three cigarettes. Nanami individually pass one to each of you before he lights your cigarette for you. He then passes the lighter to Toji to spark his own cigarette. Once the lighter found its way back to Nanami he lit his cigarette taking a long drag.
 
 
“So have you decided Toji?” Nanami asks turning to Toji lifting up an eyebrow. You stare back between the two men as Toji looks like he’s thinking about what Nanami just asked him.
 
 
“Yes, I have and it’s a ‘yes’. Now don’t try to kiss me or anything,” Toji teases standing up and walking to Nanami to do a very interesting brotherly handshake that Nanami awkwardly accepted.
 
 
“So…who’s gonna fill me in?” You inquire standing up and putting your cigarette on the ash tray. You have finished eating and picked up all the plates to put in the sink. You make your way towards the sink as you wait for an explanation.
 
 
“My love, me, and Toji made a deal. I proposed to him that we all could become a poly couple. I see how you look at him and how he looks at you. So, I asked him and he had until today to decide.” Nanami explains grimacing as Toji puts his arm around Nanami's back giving it a good slap.
 
 
You’re speechless for a second as your back is turned to them. You put the plates in the sink and stand there for a moment. ‘How did he notice? I mean I know I brought up the threesome but this is for real life crazy; it feels like Nanami can read my mind. Or am I just predictable?’ You question to yourself but you pull yourself out of that spiral turning around and smiling.
 
 
“So, that’s why hmm interesting didn’t see that coming at all. Crazy how you all didn’t feel like including me in the conversation but I’ll let it slide this one time. You should be glad I love you both,” you tease walking towards them both. “But Mr. Nanami you never cease to amaze me. I’m glad our fun doesn’t have to end and will only continue.” You add playfully then lean in and kissing him softly letting both of your lips dance together. You pull away suddenly kissing Toji on the lips as you palm Nanami’s dick only his pants being the barrier. You moan softly letting Toji slip his tongue into your mouth letting your tongues explore each other. You smile in the kiss before pulling away and palming them both. “Or maybe I won’t let it slide and torture you both…” you coo smirking deviously. Both men look at each other wide-eyed both wondering what you’ll do to them or not do to them. You pull your hands away swiftly and pick your still lit cigarette up off the ash tray and take a puff of it while twirling away from them snickering softly. “Nothing for either of you tonight,~” you tease loudly as you walk up the stairs. Slamming your door you lay on your bed and stare at the ceiling.
 
 
‘I can’t believe Kento would ask that question that’s so left field of him. And I can’t ignore my fucking feelings for Toji. FUCK, how will this turn out?..’ you think as you continue to puff your cigarette.  
 
 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*𝟦 𝑀𝒪𝒩𝒯𝐻𝒮 𝐿𝒜𝒯𝐸𝑅 𝑀𝒜𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐼𝒯 𝒥𝒰𝒩𝐸 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You wake up slowly rubbing your hand on Toji’s chest and your leg on Nanami’s leg as you all had a sleepover in the sex dungeon. Fully awake now you look at the two men sleeping like babies as they both snored softly. You stare up at the ceiling recounting how life has been as of recent. Nanami is about to open his bakery and Toji has finally moved Megumi in but sadly it’s only during the summer break. You slowly slither out of the grip the two men had you in and throw on a silk robe. You open the door quietly you walk out of the room doing the same as you close the door. You make your way up to your room and close the door plopping on the bed lost in thought. You hear your phone buzz and roll over to grab it. After getting up again fully with phone in hand you walk over to the big windows facing the backyard. You unlock your phone the time reads 9 am and a ton of notifications flood in. You have a couple of texts from Angel, one from Trina, and a couple from your sibling group chat.
 
You smirk softly as you open Angel’s it reads; ‘girl when are you coming to see me I miss you!!!’ sent at 10:30 pm ‘I know you’re enjoying your soft life but don’t forget about me!’ sent at 1:45 am ‘YOU ALSO GOTTA TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!’ sent at 5:00 am.
 
 
While chuckling soft you respond with saying. ‘You’re so silly I'll come see you sometime soon I'm gonna be in the city next week anyways!! We should go get drunk or something. AND BITCH THERES A LOT TO TELL!’ You send the message then go to Trina's message.
 
 
It reads; ‘Good morning girlfriend! What hairstyle you wanna do next week?’ sent at 11:00 am.
 
 
You respond with; ‘Good Morninggggg! I'm thinking crochet locs. What you think?’
 
 
You send it and swipe to your sibling's group chat with your brothers. You have tons of messages from Angelo they read; ‘You forgot all about us!!! It’s okay though I know you’re busy and a grown up now. I can’t wait to see you! Nanami has taken great care of us and I’m happy you found him,’ from Angelo sent at 7:30 pm.
 
 
‘Daran is forcing me to do homework tell him TO LEAVE ME ALONE,’ from Angelo sent at 8:54 pm.
 
 
‘Don’t listen to him enjoy yourself big sister we both just miss you," from Daran sent at 9:15 pm.
 
 
You laugh loudly as you read the messages and you respond saying. ‘Mannn Angelo do your homework and I miss you both very much. And could never forget y’all I hope you know I love you both equally. I can’t wait to see you guys too! I might actually come to you all but don’t quote me on that.’
Once sent you hear a knock at your door; “come in!” You yell turning around as the door opens.
 
 
“Hello Mx. Nanami, I am hungry…” Megumi practically whispers as he looks around the room.
 
 
“Okay, I can make you something what would you like?” You ask as you walk towards him beckoning him to follow you.
 
 
“Hmmmm, pancakes please..” he says skipping a little as he follows you down the steps. You both enter the kitchen and you start to gather the ingredients to make breakfast. With Megumi sitting on the kitchen counter he just watches as you make his pancakes. “You’re very pretty Mx. Nanami. Will you be marrying Mr. Nanami soon?” Megumi inquires leaning closer to you and waiting for your answer. He’s the spitting image of his father and Toji was right he’s not as loud. But having him around reminds you of the old days of taking care of your little brothers.
 
 
“I sure hope so wanna know a secret?” You ask leaning in closer to him making Megumi become wide-eyed. “I really love Mr. Nanami..” you whisper leaning back and smiling then refocusing on flipping the pancakes making sure they don’t burn. Megumi has a shocked look on his face clasping his hands together before jumping off the counter. 

 
“I’m going to tell Nanami!” Megumi teases grinning devilishly just like his father.
 
 
“Ooooh no you won’t! Also, he’s still sleeping and your pancakes are ready!! Sit down at the table,” You say shaking your head as you point towards the table. Megumi huffs and puffs as he makes his way to the table thanking you as you place his plate on the table. He takes his time eating looking around and savoring every bite. You sit down next to Megumi both of you chatting and laughing as he finishes his food.
 
 
“I’m gonna go play now,” Megumi announces once bored with the conversation and running to his room slamming the door shut. You can’t help but laugh as you stand up pick up his dirty dish to put it in a pile in the sink. Once the plate hits the sink you suddenly hear a door swing open. You whip around to see Toji beckoning you to come to the sex dungeon.
 
 
“He’s upstairs playing he’ll be busy,” Toji says raising a devious eyebrow. Rolling your eyes you walk towards the room still in your robe. As you walk in Nanami walks out stopping you to kiss your cheek before you both continue walking.
 
 
“I’ll be look out and I’ll whistle if anything goes wrong,” Nanami explains before closing the door and locking it softly behind him. You turn your attention back to Toji who’s already pulling his boxers off.
 
 
“Come over and relieve me brat,” Toji commands as his boxers fall to the floor. You walk over to him and he shakes his head. “Turn around and do it again. But crawl to me this time and take that stupid robe off,” Toji teases winking at you. “I’ll take you out after I wanna have some alone time with you. I already told Nanami he’s gonna take Megumi to the bookstore," he explains in a sincere tone. Within seconds you have already turned around and got on your hands and knees.
 
 
“I’d enjoy that very much daddy,~” you coo winking back at him as you crawl towards him keeping eye contact the whole time. As you get right under him practically under his balls he points his dick down to touch your lips.
 
 
“I get your mouth today, we did rock paper scissors,” Toji explains as you part your lips softly licking his tip. “Ughhh don’t tease me brat you know I can’t take it,” Toji groans bending his knees slightly to force his dick deeper into your mouth. You smile softly before taking as much as you can into your mouth. Your jaw still hasn’t gotten used to Toji or your throat so you're expecting to be a little hoarse after. You hollow out your cheeks before placing your right hand around the rest of his length and playing with his hairy balls with the other hand. You earn a moan and a buck of the hips out of him making you moan softly. You bob your head at a decent pace not wanting to tire yourself out. Toji had other plans like always, he grabbed the back of your head as he meets each bob of your head with a deep thrust of his hips. You gag softly trying not to make too much noise as slobber starts to spill out your mouth. The lewd sounds coming from you two was always so enchanting and arousing. You swirl your tongue as best as you can still trying to keep up with Toji’s thrusts. “Fuckkk y/n your throat is so good,~” Toji praises loosing his grip on the back of your head and beginning to pat it instead. You quicken the pace as you feel his dick swell and decide to grip Toji’s hip with your right hand. You try your best to deep throat as much of his length down your throat. “Such a good brat, I saw you roll your eyes earlier at me you thought you’d get away with that?” Toji teases slightly tapping you on the cheek with a free hand. You look up at him and wink making him melt instantly he whispers a string of curse words tilting his head back. “You know me so well beautiful,” he says between groans trailing off at the end. Toji’s dick twitches as cum shoots out of it making your eyes water and gag hard. He bucks his hips again making cum shoot out your mouth and dripping down to your chin and to your chest. You swallow as much as you could as he slowly pulls his dick out. You open your mouth showing the cum you still have left to swallow. Toji bends over and grips your cheeks lightly making you keep your mouth open. He slowly lets a line of spit fall in before bending up again and smacking your cheek lightly. “Swallow,” he commands while patting your head. You do as he says and then slowly stand up wobbling a little as your legs had fallen asleep.
 
 
“I’m glad I can please you, daddy.” You say smiling softly as you use your finger to wipe from your chest to your mouth seductively before licking your finger. Toji groans smirking at you before kissing you passionately and full of desire. You bite his lip softly making him grunt before grabbing your throat softly. He bites your lip back and nipping at it before pulling away.
 
 
“Fuck, get dressed I’ll meet you outside. Wear a dress a white one with a matching thong and bring a pack of smokes with you too,” Toji says as his choke turns to caressing your cheek softly. “I love you in a dress,” he says as you put your robe back on and walk out the door. Nanami and Megumi were already gone you yelled at Toji from upstairs that he could come out. You rummage through your closet looking for a cute white dress. You picked a short one that stopped at your upper thigh and was flowy so you could feel cutesy more than sexy. You walk back down the stairs and see Toji wearing black jeans and a gray tee shirt smiling at you.
 
 
"Zip the back up for me please," you ask showing your unzipped dress.
 
 
”You look gorgeous, breathtaking actually. We’re going to the horse track," Toji states as he zips your dress up slowly savoring the sight. "JUST TO WATCH NO GAMBLING!” He says before yelling the last few words as he steps away.
 
 
You laugh before walking to grab some white slip-on mules; “NO GAMBLING TOJI!” You tease matching his energy as you open the front door and walk to his car. You lean against the car waiting as he grabs his keys and walks out slamming the front door. “You need to work on that,” you say in a playful tone as Toji opens the car door for you.
 
 
“What exactly brat?” He asks mocking your tone and then staring you down hoping you’d crack.
 
 
“Slamming doors.” You say in between giggles as you get comfortable in the car, lean back into the seat, and with that, Toji slams the door making you erupt into laughter. You both make your way to the horse racing ring and Toji holds your hand leading the way. He plops down in a seat and you sit next to him. You pass him the pack of smokes before grabbing two out of it for yourself knowing you're not getting that pack back. You both watch the race betting against each other who would win; not with money of course. It helped him not gamble and it was like harm reduction and thankfully, it was fun to go out with Toji. You guys talked the whole time making each other laugh and smile. Soon all the races were done and Toji got up helping you up as he did.
 
 
“I’m hungry,” you say pouting as you both walk to the car.
“Nanami made lunch come on I know you get HANGRY,” Toji teases opening the car door for you. You plop in crossing your arms as you stick your tongue out and once again he slams the door. The drive home is quick once home you barely even wait for Toji to park the car before you’re running towards the house. You basically burst in making Nanami and Megumi snap their neck towards the front door. Toji runs in after you rubbing the back of his head. “She’s hungry, really hungry,” Toji teases playfully following behind you as you walk into the house.
Nanami laughs pulling your chair out for you as you plop down he pushes you toward the table. A beautiful sandwich sits before you with your favorite chips [insert your favorite sandwich & chips]. Your mouth practically waters as you dig in not noticing Toji passed you a soju to wash it all down. Once done everyone just chuckles as you lean back in the chair and your mood changes completely smiling at everyone. “Thank you, sorry Megumi you had to see me so hangry.” You say laughing at yourself a little Megumi just shrugs his shoulders chuckling a little too before returning to reading his book. Nanami rubs your shoulders making you lean your head back to look up at him resting your head on the back of the chair.
 
 
“You had fun today?” Nanami asks smiling down at you still rubbing your shoulders and giving a slight massage. You nod your head ‘yes’ closing your eyes and smiling softly back at him.
 
 
“I’ll chill with the kid you guys go fuck off somewhere,” Toji says waving his hand at you guys to leave. Both you and Nanami chuckle before you stand up taking your plate to the sink and dragging Nanami around behind you. “You see kid those two need help,” Toji teases making Megumi laugh. You both begin walking upstairs and thankfully Nanami didn’t forget the soju. You open your bedroom door closing it shut and locking it once Nanami is fully inside.
 
 
“I’ve been thinking about you all day..” you whisper leaning close to Nanami making him blush.
 
 
“Oh really? I’ve been thinking about you too you know. You must have something on your mind,” Nanami inquired before kissing your forehead. “Come lay with me let’s talk a bit,” Nanami commands as he lays on the bed making himself comfortable. You grab another cigarette for yourself out of the vintage cigarette dispenser and pass one to Nanami sparking both of yours. You both talk about mindless things and feelings as you drink your soju. Soon you are both cuddling into each other loving the private intimate moment.
 
 
“I have a question y/n?” Nanami asks softly in between kisses on your head as you snuggle into his chest.
 
 
“Shoot.” You say in a sleepy tone as you have drunk your soju way too fast.
 
 
“What is it you’d like to do? I feel like you have more to show the world,” Nanami says turning your head up towards him looking deep into your eyes.
 
 
“I used to sew my own clothes when I was younger I always enjoyed creating I just have to find the motivation,” you explain before kissing his chin.
 
 
“I can definitely see you doing that. If you ever want to talk about it let me know, okay?” Nanami says sincerely making sure you understand he’s here to help. As you nod your head ‘yes’ he slowly lets go before snaking his hands around your waist. “Why are you so soft?” He asks softly before kissing your cheek. “You said you were thinking about me. What were you thinking exactly?” Nanami asks as he whispers into your ear making a shiver go down your spine.
 
 
“Of you fucking me...I miss your touch daddy,~” you coo looking back at him. Nanami’s cheeks are flushed red as he smirks softly.
 
 
“Hmm, to fuck my princess or not?” He asks out loud pretending to think. You roll your eyes and turn away from him leaning back into his chest. You feel his hands slowly unzip your dress and pull one strap down. “Ooh no bra ah? Who was this for?” He teases as he slips your dress off leaving you in a white thong. “He must’ve told you to wear white. Toji has great taste cause you look delicious,~” Nanami coos before leaning you forward so he can stand up and strip. Once nude he slides back in bed beckoning you to get under the covers with him. “We gotta be quiet but that won’t be a problem will it princess?” He asks as he snakes his hand up and down your body. You both face each other smiling softly at one another before your lips collide. You have memorized the way his lips taste, how they feel, and how he moves them. You love every second of it moaning softly once he starts to caress your breast. Nanami shifts down so he can put one in his mouth as he plays with the other breast making sure neither was neglected. You moan softly as he does and continues to switch back and forth. Soon he snakes a free hand down to your thong tugging on it before he practically rips it off of you.
 
 
“You’re taking me shopping tomorrow,~” you say between moans smiling softly as he grunts in agreement. Soon he's feverishly kissing up and down your body.
 
 
“Of course, I’ll take you out to go shopping tomorrow. Lay on your back, my love. I love to see you melt underneath me,” Nanami commands letting go of you so you can do so. Once you’re on your back he hovers over your love spot. He spreads your legs apart propping them on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach. Nanami spreads your lips apart showing your glistening slick entrance gaping from arousal. “So hungry to be stuffed hmm?~” He teases looking up at you smirking deviously.
 
 
“Yes daddy please eat me out then fuck me till I can't speak,~” you beg as even his touch is driving you crazy. Not being touched after sucking Toji’s dick was like torture and they both knew that. Nanami chuckles before licking slowly between your folds and sucking on your lips. You buck your hips wanting more of him which makes him lift his head up.
 
 
“Patience princess,~” He coos before going back to eat you out slowly drawing out each lick and suck. You moan loudly as your clit begins to throb he chuckled at you as you bite your lip remembering to be quiet. Soon after getting tired of torturing you, he sucks on your clit slowly making you almost bite your own lip off. Your stomach starts to tense up and your legs tremble as you start to cum showering Nanami’s face in your juices. He licks his lips and slightly his chin before fully sitting up. “Spread those legs beautiful,” he commands as he crawls back on top of you. You do so and suddenly he swipes his swollen head against your entrance. Groaning softly he slowly thrusts into you inch by inch before picking up the speed holding your legs now. “Your pussy is so tight princess, fuck,~” Nanami whispers into your feet making your toes curl. He starts slamming into you stretching you and demolishing your walls what’s crazy is his full length wasn’t fully in you. You grab at the sheets trying not to lose your grip but fuck he’s killing you. Nanami chuckles softly before putting your legs on his shoulders and rolling so you're more on your upper back. With your ass, slightly in the air, he holds your legs to support himself as he’s somewhat planking on top of you. Your toes point towards the headboard as he slams into you slowly basically drilling down into you. Nanami has reached a deeper part of you plowing your cervix. As he does so he groans softly bowing his head more and closing his eyes. The lewd sounds of your bodies colliding alone were loud so Toji had to turn on a T.V super loud downstairs shaking his head. As he does this you have been rendered speechless mouth open but nothing coming out as your cervix is getting demolished. You let out a soft moan as heat erupted in the lower half you truly didn’t even know where. You clench around his dick as you cum your legs shaking as you slowly crumble underneath him. “You are so beautiful princess,~” Nanami coos between deep guttural moms. Soon his thrust becomes sloppy as he slowly descends back to fucking you in missionary. He bites your neck softly as he grips onto your love handles slamming deep within you and making your back arch. Nanami curses softly in your ear then says your name as he paints your insides white. Hot cum coated your cervix, your walls, and spilled out of your pussy making you moan softly. Nanami bucks his hips a couple more times before pulling out fully and falling next to you. “You feel so good princess I’m addicted to your love and touch,~” Nanami confesses in a breathy tone.
 
 
You smile at him as you crawl on top of him now laying chest to chest. “I’m glad I could please you daddy, it was really good. I love when you fill me with your cum,~” you say in between kisses. "I love you, Ken my heart is yours," you say softly inches apart from him as you both touch foreheads holding hands.
 
 
'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Once again I hope you enjoyed this one and can’t wait to upload the next chapter! Also let me know how you guys like the little fluff and the smut in this one overall. I liked this chapter going on a little date with Toji likeeee. And for story purposes Megumi is like 5 or 6 right now. I’m so happy people on here actually like this story or smut it warms my heart. But, don’t forget to comment, leave feedback, leave a note, or anything truly. It’s all appreciated! ( v ω v)//
© ™TINYPROPHETT
[Please don't copy or plagiarize my work thank you. I don't own any rights to JJK and all photos are from pintrest or here I'll try to tag people if I can]
⟿ Link for my AO3 lovers: {also it’s 24 chapters posted on here}
⟿ Credit for the inspiration for the Chapter:
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Soft Astarion Jealousy
Now with part 2!
I love Ascended Astarion because he's horrible but the sweetness of the other end of the spectrum is impossible to deny. He's just so in love and grateful I can't 🥺🥺
So here's some jealousy that isn't psychotic. Well it is but not as bad:
Astarion never expected to be the jealous type. He always thought...well. In all honesty he never thought about the reality of having a relationship. He didn't even think it was possible for him, let alone the idea that he would actually want it. Even with you, even after he admitted a fraction of his own feelings to himself, he never thought that he would be so... possessive. Though admittedly, he had very good cause for it.
Because you were frustrating. So, so frustrating. For some idiotic reason, you simply didn't understand how alluring to others you really were. You were a pretty little thing, yes but that wasn't the problem. It was so much more than that. And he knew that the others wanted you. Every last one of them. Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Halsin. All of them like moths to a flame. And that wasn't even counting all of the strangers you had met on your journey, the extras that thought they had a shot with your greatness. They all wanted you in ways that made Astarion seethe. And the desire from others wasn't even the kind that he was used to, the kind he understood like the back of his hand. Because you didn't need to seduce to cultivate desire. All you needed to stoke the flames was merely your presence. Experiencing you was all that was required for people to know they wanted more.
Astarion knew that the others weren't just looking for a bedmate, they wanted you for the same reasons he had grown to. Your empathy, your desire to understand those around you. Your fearlessness, your infuriating habit of always trying to do the right thing. They wanted you for your laugh, the way your eyes would crinkle in the corners when your smile was too wide. Your silly jokes, your endless hopefulness for a future. It felt as though everyone around saw you for the gem that you were and it was... concerning. Extremely concerning.
Astarion hated thinking about things like this. He loathed admitting the truth to himself even more. But he was...terrified of losing you to someone else. Especially since it could so easily be done. He was so very lucky that you weren't the brightest, or at least not when it came to matters of the heart. You could do so much better than him, a fact that was incredibly obvious to everyone around you. Everyone but you, a luck that Astarion did not take lightly. But how much time did he have before it ran out? Would it ever?
Perhaps it was delusional, but he was starting to think when all of this was over, assuming neither of you perished anyway, that...it could just be the two of you. Living together, exploring the world, even if it had to be under the cloak of night. Maybe... maybe the two of you could even find a cure for his unsavory condition. The thought itself was incredibly stupid, but then again, it was just as idiotic to believe that there was a cure to the Mind Flayer parasite. But here they were, closer then ever. And if that was such an impossibility turned into reality, perhaps a vampiric cure wasn't so impossible. Or maybe even finding an alternative method for immortality for you, without the downsides of his own. Anything that could just keep you both together, for as long as possible. It was an unrealistic dream, that would never come into fruition. If anything it was dangerous, so very dangerous to even entertain the thought of forever. Especially when your connection was so tenuous.
Astarion would never be stupid enough to thank Cazador for anything but...he'd be lying if he said he wasn't appreciative for his own lack of subtly when it came to seducing you. Even if it originally was for distasteful reasons, it still got him ahead of the pack. If he had been less calculating, less astute, there was a sincere chance that you would be warming someone else's bed at night. Callousness would never be without it's uses, even if it led to uncomfortable situations like his current infatuation.
What would he do when you inevitably wanted to leave? How could he survive after having something so...good. Someone so caring, someone who for some very horrifying reason liked being around him. And the sex... it was fabulous. He was a massive fan of your intimacy, when he was capable of participating in it. He adored it, he adored you, your beauty, the sweet noises he could coax from your mouth, the europhia of being inside of you. Then there was the fact that you could be intimate without any traces of it devolving into lovemaking. He had never been gifted with the ability to say no before, so often and so freely without a single fear of punishment. If anything, it felt like he was rewarded when he was honest with you, when he would share his sudden fits of discomfort in his own body, the memories that plagued him and doomed him to staying stubbornly soft. You would never get angry, never even disappointed. You would just listen and smile, always adorable when you would ask, "But I can stay for a cuddle, can't I?"
An extremely silly question, considering the two of you hadn't spent a night apart from each other since you'd made it to the Shadowlands. Yet it never failed to make him melt.
It was getting worse, these feelings. He just wanted you around, by his side, constantly. Constant enough for him to get the ridiculous urge to hiss at anyone else who dared to come near you. He felt an intense need to protect the closeness the both of you had cultivated, the kind that he had never been allowed before. He had no interest in sharing you with your own friends when it came down to it, let alone another lover.
Which is precisely why his original, mild distaste for Halsin turned into a full-blown hatred the night he had the gall to proposition you.
It had felt like a shard of ice going through his chest when you bounded over to him, laughing about one of his greatest fears coming much too close to reality, "You won't believe the conversation Halsin and I just had-"
"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that," Astarion laughed, purposefully interrupting you. He had no desire to hear the specifics of that conversation. He didn't even want to be having this conversation, where you were inevitably going to ask if it was okay to explore someone else.
The answer was no. Never would he be okay with it, allowing someone else to be close to what should have been his. But he needed to think strategically here. To say no could be disasterous. If it became a game of choice between him and Halsin... he's almost certain he would lose. Halsin was everything he wasn't; caring, giving, sharing in your worldviews in a way that Astarion never could. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. Having you at all was better than nothing.
"But I'd never even consider something like that-"
"It's fine," Astarion interrupts again, the fakest smile he can muster plastered on his face. The pain was worth the risk mitigation, he was sure of that. But... he still had to ask, "But is this because we haven't...y'know, in awhile?"
A sick part of him prays that you'll say yes. Because if that's the reason, he could do something about it. He could force himself if need be to always tend to your needs. Especially if it meant keeping you to himself. It was such a small sacrifice in comparison to the rest of his life. He would do it in a heartbeat if you demanded, anything to just make you stay.
But that was not the answer he received. Instead you frowned, looking him up and down, "What? No, I-Astarion no. Please don't think that. What we have together is so special to me. The physical part of it is lovely, perfect even. But...it's not what we are."
It's almost comforting to hear you say that. But then why did that make the situation feel so much worse? If it wasn't sex you were after then that certainly meant you wanted more with Halsin as well, did it not? But it was too late to rescind it now.
Astarion nodded, a confused mixture of hurt and gratefulness swirling through him, "I just needed to know. But if you're satisfied with me and just want to explore, go right ahead. I'll be here when you're done."
You nodded slowly, brow furrowed when you asked, "So...we aren't exclusive then?"
"No, of course not," Astarion confirmed, ignoring everything inside of him that was screaming for him to take it all back, "We can be as open as you'd like."
"I see..." You said, trailing off with a frown. You coughed into your hand, looking up at him sharply. Sharp enough for him to be sincerely confused, "Does this mean that you'll be speaking to me before you explore your other options?"
"I-yes? If you want?" Astarion answered, a new type of unease settling in his chest. You didn't seem very happy with this conversation, despite his best attempts to give you what you wanted. Where had he gone wrong? Was he already working to throw you into the arm's of another man, without even trying?
You were still frowning at him, your look cold in a way that made him feel particularly ill, "Please do. I'd like to know everything. I'm going to speak to Halsin, get this all sorted. We can talk later."
And then you were spinning on your heel and marching away, like Astarion was the offensive party here. It made no sense. He had done it all right, hadn't he? Agreed to it immediately, didn't make you feel guilty, had tried to be what you wanted. How had he failed?
He didn't wait around to see you go to Halsin. Instead he went straight back to his tent, closing the flap as he laid down. Great. Fantastic. Now he would have to be aware, perhaps even hear you being with another, while simultaneously reliving that horrid conversation in his head for the entire night. The hurt and worry was making his mind wander to uncomfortable places. Perhaps...Halsin could be dealt with in another way if things became too serious between the two of you.
Would poisoning the man be too extreme?
But before Astarion had the time to start thinking of a more detailed plan he was interrupted. Suddnely, moonlight was filling his tent, with your silleoute shining in the darkness.
He blinked up at you, confused, "What are you doing here?"
You frowned at him, looking hesitant in the entry way, "Should I not be? I thought-I can go if you'd like."
"No!" Astarion blurted out, loud and desperate enough to make him cringe. He cleared his throat, trying again, his voice still a touch too pitiful for his liking, "No, no, come here darling. Of course you're always welcome. I just assumed you would be busy."
To his relief you listened, crawling into the bedroll next to him. Astarion didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, relieved to humiliating degrees that you had chosen to come back after the deed. Though...you didn't quite smell as he had thought you would. There were no traces of the floral, woodsy smell of the druid on your skin. Just the sweet, pleasant scent that he had grown so fond of.
You sighed as he tucked you against him, the warmth of you enough to make him relax for the first time that night. You laid together in a pleasant quiet, one that Astarion was actually scared to disturb. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to know what happened between the two of you.
But you broke the silence for him, muttering into his chest after the two of you were settled, "I'm...sorry for being snappish earlier. I shouldn't have been. You didn't do anything wrong, and I know I don't own you. I shouldn't have assumed."
Astarion frowned, pulling back to get a proper look at your face. You looked hurt, sad even. Like you were the one who had gotten their heart broken. He could feel a curl of distaste settling in his stomach, annoyed that this felt as though the situation was being placed back to him. He had played his part, perfectly. What more could you ask for? What was there to assume?
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Astarion carefully said, his eyes fixed on every micro expression on your face, "What did I do that could have been construed as incorrect?"
"Nothing!" You rushed to say, shame coloring your cheeks, "I was being stupid. You never promised me anything. I just...assumed. Wrongly that we were something we aren't."
That didn't-he-what? Astarion frowned at her, his confusion evident on his face, "What did you think we were?"
You looked uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze when you answered, "I thought that we were...together. Alone. Just us. But if that's not what you want I understand. It's fine-"
"What in the hells are you talking about?" Astarion blurted out, his anger and pain bubbling to the surface, "I haven't done a thing. And we were just us before you decided to galivant off with a bear of a man!"
He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. So much for playing things safely. No, he couldn't even have the self-control to stay quiet. He always had to ruin everything.
But surprisingly, you didn't look angry. If anything you seemed just as confused as he felt, "What? I didn't-we didn't do anything! When did I say I wanted to do anything with Halsin? You were the one saying you didn't care!"
You weren't making any damn sense, "Well why else would you ask me about it?"
"I didn't!" You huffed, glaring at him, "All I was going to say was that he asked me. And I wanted your help on how to best turn him down! And then you jumped at the chance to push me onto someone else-"
"I did nothing of the sort!" Astarion seethed back, "If it was up to me you would never look at another man again! Or woman for that matter!"
It was an odd feeling, to be arguing while holding each other so closely. But Astarion had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if he could feel you squirming against his ironclad grip when you fumed at him, "Then why would you say it was okay?!"
"Because I don't want you to leave me!" He shouted back, loud enough to snap him out of his own anger. All of his fury was instantly replaced with fear. Gods, why had he felt the need to say that? To lay his biggest insecurity out on the line. Why not just hand you a stake while he was at it, since he was so eager to give you the tools to destroy him.
But you were still seething, hissing back at him, "Why praytell, would I leave the man I've been in love with for months? Hm? Please, explain it to me!"
Astarion couldn't. He was too busy being shell-shocked at the confession, feeling too many emotions at once. Joy, relief, somehow even more fear than before. You so freely said the words that he had done his damndest to bury, to ignore. But now they were out there, filling him with a horrifying joy.
He wanted to say it back. He did. But he couldn't get the wrecthed words out. Instead he was just staring at you like an imbeicle, his mouth hanging opening at the confession.
But his silence didn't make you falter. Instead you looked determined, near fierce as you grasped his face into your warm hands, "I love you Astarion. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is about. But I want you. And only you. If you want the same of me then you must tell me. Now."
Astarion let his hands flutter over your wrists, humiliating tears prickling at his eyes. But at least his vocal chords allowed him to answer you this time, "I do. So much more than you know. I want us. Just us. No one else."
The words were flowing out of him, too fast and sincere for him to make the appropriate edits in his head. He was saying too much, feeling too much, giving too much. But the way your eyes brightened at his words, the way you grinned at him before pulling him in for a sweet kiss made it suddenly feel like he wasn't giving anything up at all.
As much as he loathed to admit it, Astarion was exceedingly grateful for Halsin's existence after that night. He would never have had the gall to demand you to himself without a trigger, without the anger you both shared at being misunderstood. Because now, you were his. His alone, the proclamation coming from your own lips. And he was free to stop hiding how much he had wanted it. How willing he was to do anything to keep it. He let himself off his own leash after that, leaning completely into the mutual ownership you had of each other. No more would he silently sit back and seethe as a stranger flirted with you. No, now he'd be upfront and center, with a possessive hand around your waist as he glared them down, more than prepared with a confidence-shattering quip on his tongue.
He started to let all of his urges seep through, taking full advantage of your willingness. If Wyll looked at you for too long at the fire, with a touch of something that Astarion didn't like in his eyes, he'd effortlessly pull you into his lap onlookers be damned as breathed you in. If Gale suddenly had a suspect offer to teach you some new magic in a secluded location, Astarion would invite himself, impervious to any glares sent his way. And when he felt as though all of them were being a bit too flirtaious, he was more than happy to put them in their places at night. Spending hours upon hours making you scream his name in bed from pleasure, loud enough for everyone to hear and know exactly who you belonged to.
He couldn't care less if it added to his own unpopularity amongst their merry-band of rejects. Their opinions didn't matter. Not when you were eating all of the sudden attention up.
You let him do it all because you understood him, in ways that no one else had bothered to before. You knew who he was, what he wanted, the extent to how much he craved your attention. And you let it all happened, reveled in it even. The intense shows of affection. Because you loved him. And he loved you. And one of these days he'd allow himself to admit the obvious.
But for now, he had what he wanted. What he needed. And in the first time in his life, even with disgusting tadpoles squirming his his brain, Astarion was actually...happy.
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celestie0 · 1 month
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear
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ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)
ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)
a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)
☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1
♬.*゚playlist
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an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33
--
The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.
It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 
It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.
“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.
Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”
Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.
“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.
Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.
“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”
You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.
“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”
Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”
“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 
Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”
You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.
Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”
You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 
Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.
“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”
You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.
“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.
Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”
You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.
“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”
You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 
Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”
Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.
The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.
“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.
“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”
You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”
He smiles at you.
“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”
You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.
“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 
“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.
It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.
“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”
You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”
He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”
You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 
A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?
“Yeah, show me.”
Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.
“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.
He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”
“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”
“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”
He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.
A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.
He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”
He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.
“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.
He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”
You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”
“LCD.”
“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”
“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”
He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.
He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.
“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”
“I did? Didn’t even notice.”
You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 
“Do you mind it?” he asks.
“No, not really.”
“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”
“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”
He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.
“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 
Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”
“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.
You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”
His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.
“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.
He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”
Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 
“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 
You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.
But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 
“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.
He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”
“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”
He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”
You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”
“Feelings about what?”
You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.
He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”
“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.
“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”
You sigh.
“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”
“That’s pathetic as hell.”
“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.
You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.
“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”
The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”
He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”
Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”
“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.
“Yeah.”
“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”
Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.
“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.
You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.
“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.
“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”
You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”
“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”
“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”
Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”
It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 
“No.”
He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.
“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.
“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.
“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 
He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”
You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.
You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”
“Go back where?”
“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”
He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 
“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.
“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”
“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”
“I beg your finest pardon?”
You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.
Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”
“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 
“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.
“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”
Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.
“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.
“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.
“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”
“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”
Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”
“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.
You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.
“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.
You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.
“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.
“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”
“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.
“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”
You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.
“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 
“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”
You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 
“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”
Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”
Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.
It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.
“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.
“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.
“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”
You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”
He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”
“D-Distraction?”
“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”
Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.
“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”
You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.
Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”
You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 
“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 
“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”
There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.
You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.
“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.
“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.
You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.
“Canon? Are you even listening?”
“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.
“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 
“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 
“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.
You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.
“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.
What the fuck?
Where are you?
Who are you?
Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.
There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.
Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.
“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”
Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.
“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”
You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.
The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.
“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.
“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 
“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.
“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.
You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”
“You could have a concussion.”
“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”
He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”
“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”
He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.
He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air
“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”
He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.
“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.
“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.
You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 
You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”
“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”
You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.
“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.
“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”
You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.
“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.
“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.
“You got hit by a soccer ball.”
“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.
“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.
“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 
He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”
“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 
He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.
“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”
“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.
His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.
“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”
He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.
“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”
You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”
“That’s it?”
“Mhm.”
“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 
You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”
“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”
“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”
His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.
Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.
You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.
Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.
“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”
His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.
“What the fuck was that—”
“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”
“I—”
“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”
He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.
“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.
His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”
“No, I don’t.”
“I don’t believe you.”
You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”
He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.
You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 
He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”
Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.
2:34pm kaito (work): yo
2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera
2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up
2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?
2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 
2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one
2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry
2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one
2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that
2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really
2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement
2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field
2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?
You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.
“Oh, hi,” you say.
“Hey, are you free tonight?”
“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.
“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”
You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”
“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”
You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”
“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”
“We?” you ask.
“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”
Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”
Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”
Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”
“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”
You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 
“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.
“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.
You purse your lips together.
“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”
You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.
“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”
“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.
“Alright cool, will do.” 
You say bye, and then he hangs up.
A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.
Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.
“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.
“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”
You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”
He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”
You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”
“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 
“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”
Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 
You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.
“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.
“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”
“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”
He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”
Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”
Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.
“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”
Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”
Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”
“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”
You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.
You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.
You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 
Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.
Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.
“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.
“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”
Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”
Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”
“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.
“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.
Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”
“Tell me what?” you prod.
“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”
You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”
“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”
You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.
Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”
“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”
You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”
“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”
“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 
“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.
You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.
Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.
“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”
You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.
“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.
“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.
“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.
“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”
His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”
You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?
“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.
“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”
“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”
“It sounds shady as fuck.”
“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”
“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.
“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”
His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”
Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 
“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.
He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”
You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.
He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”
“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”
He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.
“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”
At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”
“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”
His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”
“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 
His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.
“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 
He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.
“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.
His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”
“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”
You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”
He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”
His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 
Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.
“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”
You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”
Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”
Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”
Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.
Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”
“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.
“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.
A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 
“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”
Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”
Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”
Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.
“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”
Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”
You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 
“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.
“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”
Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.
“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.
“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”
“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”
“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”
“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.
“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.
“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 
Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”
“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.
“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”
“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”
Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 
“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.
Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.
“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”
“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.
“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.
“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”
“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”
Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 
Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”
You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 
There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.
Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.
You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.
“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”
Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”
“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”
Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 
You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”
Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”
You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.
When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.
“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”
You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.
Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.
You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.
“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”
“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”
You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.
But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.
Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.
Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”
Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.
“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.
“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”
You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  
“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”
You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”
His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”
Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.
“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”
You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 
His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”
Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.
You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”
He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”
“But I do.”
There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.
You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.
He just holds you closer. “I know.”
“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.
He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”
“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.
“I know.”
--
a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!
➸ you're all caught up!
➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here
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(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)
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imfinereallyy · 10 months
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Steve Harrington hadn’t talked to his dad in a year.
The last thing the two of them had talked had been after the earthquakes, across the room in the den; his dad barely stepped through the front entryway, and Steve’s back pressed against the back door. The house was messy but still standing, unlike Steve, who was broken and barely keeping himself upright. The only thing Richard Harrington had said to Steve was,
“I think it’s time to move on.” Which was his way of telling Steve they were selling the house and he should figure out his own arrangements. Steve hadn’t cared, though. Didn’t even look at him as he spoke. Instead, he stared at the cracks in the ceiling and wondered if it was some kind of metaphor.
He tried not to think too deeply about it.
It had been a year since then. There had been time to move on, as his dad said. There was no more Upside Down. There was no more worrying about the next move. Max and Eddie were healed. Everyone was back in Hawkins. Robin and Steve lived in a little house on Fifth while Robin took community courses. Eddie practically lived there, too, with the strange friendship bond that had grown between the three of them.
Eddie had argued once it was because their couch was comfier than his bed, but Steve liked to think it was because Eddie wanted to be close to them. To be close to him. Sometimes Steve thought about letting him stay in his bed together.
Time had not moved to that yet.
Everything seemed good. Despite Steve’s resentment towards Richard, and his reluctance to admit the man was right, sometimes it was good to let things go, break apart and move on. Though Steve was sure, this wasn’t exactly what Harrington Sr. meant.
Steve hadn’t talked to his father in over a year. And he didn’t really miss him. Sure, there were moments that passed when Steve would yearn for the small happy moments between them. Secret smiles at baseball games, lunch at his office, and him cheering Steve on at the one swim championship he managed to show up to.
But it always got mixed in with bigger, badder moments. Being left alone for months on end. The belittling. The missed graduation. The yelling. The slurs when he grew his hair out too long. The cold way he said to Steve,
“I think it’s time to move on.”
Like he had been breaking up with a high school sweetheart before leaving for college.
So Steve didn’t miss the man, not really. But in moments like these, in the back of the Byers-Hopper’s backyard at the Father’s Day BBQ, where all party members and parents alike gathered, Steve couldn’t help but ache.
Steve ached for something better than Richard Harrington.
It wasn’t because of parents who stuck around that made Steve’s stomach churn in jealousy, but the ones who decided to show up. It was the way Wayne threw his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and the cheers their beers to something probably ridiculous. The way Steve knew that man would crawl to the ends of the earth for someone who wasn’t technically his, but was nothing short of a son.
It was the way El and Hop manned the grill together. Him laughing at something El said, probably something ridiculous, and her smile back that could light up the sun. The way Steve knew that El wasn’t a replacement for the things Hop had lost, but instead an addition to his life he would choose over and over again.
Steve ached to be loved and care for because someone wanted to. Not because of obligation or by accident. Steve wanted to loved deliberately.
Steve sipped his beer instead of bringing down the celebration with his thoughts. Eddie caught Steve’s eye across the yard and gave him a megawatt smile. Steve couldn’t help but smile shyly back.
“Hey, Steve.” A shy voice said beside him, startling him out of his thoughts. Steve turned to find Dustin standing beside him, nearly up to his nose now with his recent growth spurt. Steve couldn’t help but miss when he was small and could throw him over his shoulder.
Steve was a little surprised to find him there. Dustin wasn’t one to speak small or shy. He liked to make his presence known (much like the lovable metal head he was staring down earlier).
“Hey bud, what’s up?”
Dustin looked around the two of them before answering. Everyone else was with their dads, or talking to one of the party members. Even Robin managed to wrangle her dad and Mr. Sinclair into a conversation about WWII. Dustin looked a little relieved everyone was doing their own thing.
“Okay so you know how like, everyone is celebrating their dad today? And mine isn’t here?”
Steve felt his stomach drop. Somehow in the midst of his self-pitying, he had forgotten that Dustin’s dad wasn’t around either. Didn’t even stick around long enough for his first words. “Yea, dude, I’m sorry this must suck for you.”
Dustin looked nervous. He shifted on his feet back and forth, as if he was trying to find a rhythm to calm himself down. “Yea, so that’s what I actually came over to talk to you about.”
“Yea, Dustin. Im here if you need to talk.”
Dustin seemed to finally be at ease and rolled his eyes at Steve. “No, asshole, I don’t need to talk. I haven’t thought about the dick in years, if I’m honest. I just, it’s something else. And you don’t get to be weird about it.”
“I’m confused.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Hey!” Steve laughed despite his protest. A year ago, stuff like that hurt Steve’s feelings. But now Steve knew it was all in good fun, that Dustin was kind of dick to everyone. And he knew that the joke wasn’t about his intelligence. It hadn’t been a long time, since Steve threatened to push him out of a moving vehicle last time. Steve was pretty sure it had to do with a particular conversation involving his feelings for more than women.
Only Dustin and Robin knew. She was overly supportive, and Dustin instantly made a joke. Both made Steve supported and safe.
The dumbasses.
“Not my fault this happens to you often.”
“Is there a point being made or are you here to just be a dick?” Steve questioned, laughing behind the lip of his beer.
Dustin fidgeted again before pulling something out his back pocket. “Just—promise not to laugh.”
Steve crossed his heart with a giggle before he took a folded white piece of paper out of Dustin’s hands.
Suddenly, Steve’s face got serious as he saw what was on the front.
A poorly drawn Steve with a nail baseball bat, with the title “Happy Father’s Day”.
Steve swallowed thickly before placing his beer on the ground and opening the card. There in Dustin’s chicken scratch, was a message.
Dear Steve,
Don’t be weird about this. Okay here it goes.
My dad wasn’t around a lot, big whoop. Big surprise. I honestly don’t care anymore. Don’t give me a look.
I honestly didn’t think I would really care about any of the dad stuff, didn’t feel like I was really missing out. My mom and her annoying love for cats has always been more than enough. But as time went by sometimes I thought maybe I would be better, I would be different if I had a dad. I see it with the rest of the party, how willingly or unwillingly they all reflect their dads. And how I don’t.
Sometimes I don’t feel like my whole self because if it. Thought maybe I would never really be a whole me because of it. That maybe the world was better off anyway because I know I am a lot.
But then I met you asshole.
I didn’t think I would like you, and more importantly I didn’t think you would like me. But suddenly we are battling worlds together, and you’re hanging out with me even outside the end of days, and I have a new best friend.
If I’m being honest I do see you more as a brother. Someone I look up to. But the more I think about it (again don’t be weird), I do see you as a dad some days. Although the hands on hips do scream mother hen, you’ve been a dad to me in the ways the asswipe who made someone as amazing as me hasn’t been.
You are brave, and funny and despite popular belief you are kind. One of the kindest people I know. You make me feel safe and loved, and give me rides despite me never giving you gas money. Some days I look in the mirror and see parts of you in me, and I feel proud.
Some days I look at you and hope that I can see the braveness and kindness in myself too. I don’t yet, but you make it feel possible.
I don’t need a sperm donor (thank you Robin for that one), I have the world’s okayest dad right here.
Love you brother, friend, dad.
Happy Father’s Day, from your fellow nerd,
Dustin <3
Steve was crying. He knew that. He knew he promised not to make it weird, but Steve couldn’t help it. The little shit got him right in the heart.
He couldn’t be blamed for scooping up Dustin in a hug. “I love you too, Dusty Buns.”
Dustin squeezed Steve tight, “You don’t get to call me that.” He grumbled, but Steve could feel his tshirt getting wet.
“As your father it is my right to get to call you embarrassing nick names.” Steve squeezed Dustin even tighter.
Dustin just laughed and pushed him away jokingly. They both wiped their eyes, but the smiles on their faces remained.
Steve thought about Richard at that moment again, about how he ached for someone to care. And maybe Steve would never get it, but he could be that someone for someone else. He could give that care, Dustin.
The little shit.
“Thank you Dustin.”
Dustin shook his head, his crooked smile remained. “Nah man, thank you.”
They both just stared at each other in comfortable silence before they were interrupted by a barking force.
“What are you two saps talking about?” Eddie slung his arms around the both of them, mouth spread wide in a grin. But then he noticed the tear tracks, and suddenly his face dropped.
Eddie took Steve’s face in his hands, “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Steve shook his head fondly, “Nothing—“ He started, preparing to wave it off. But then Steve realized he couldn’t lie to Eddie. “—nothing bad. Happy tears. I promise.”
Eddie looked at Steve for a moment before nodding, giving his face a tight squeeze, and then dropping his hands. “Okay, Stevie, as long as their happy tears.”
“What am I? Chopped liver?” Dusting grumbled.
“Aweee Dusty, I could never forget you!!” Eddie threw himself at Dustin in a horrible attempt at a hug.
Dustin just pushed him off before rolling his eyes. Steve swore they were gonna get stuck one day.
“Whatever, man. Just make sure that you treat my dad right, or I’m going to have to make some tough calls.” Dustin stared down Eddie seriously before laughing evilly and walking away.
Steve wanted to freeze at Dustin’s implication, but Eddie looked adorably confused, so Steve didn’t feel too bad.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Is this new? Him just getting protective about this without explaining?” Eddie asked Steve.
“Don’t worry about it.” Steve looked down at the card again wistfully, before glancing back up at Eddie. Steve took one of Eddie’s hands and started to play with his rings. A blush bloomed across Eddie’s cheeks; Steve wanted to kiss him. Instead, he just said,
“Just think he’s trying to be a little like his dad.”
***
Dad’s are complicated, and family isn’t always blood. I hope you enjoyed my little Father’s Day contribution. I do headcannon Hopper as Steve’s father figure/replacement, and usually write it that way but this seemed like a fun opportunity to show how Steve is his own father figure for others.
He is a good egg.
Now with Father’s Day over, my birthday is in two weeks which is making me feel all sorts of things. So I’m distracting myself with steddie. Either way expect a lot of writing and updates soon.
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Can't Sleep Love
CW: Somnophilia(F! receiving), Oral(M! and F! receiving), Knotting (M), edging/orgasm denial(M! receiving), multiple orgasms( M! and F! receiving), FLUFF, NEUVILLETE IS SWEETHEART, Petnames ( love, dear, dearest,my love, etc), reader is called princess once, Smut (obviously), Husband!Neuvillette, AFAB reader, fem reader (Reader wears a dress and heels, and has a vagina and breasts), dirty talk, praise, Neuvillette is a service top leaning towards a sub, reader is a switch, Neuvillete is prim and proper--so he's clutching his pearls, sorta scandalized when reader talks nasty. Inexperienced(??Neuvillette hasn't had anyone else as a bed partner so he's still kinda new?), Reader calls him 'Villette'.
Wc: 5.3K Likes and reblogs appreciated!
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Cropped art. Original art belongs to @sviteer . Support the artist please.
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Neuvillette cherishes the quiet moments, like these, more than anything else.
You're both tired, you moreso, from a date night out. A lovely candlelit dinner followed by a play at the opera house. And though he held your hand through your sniffles and nodded his head sympathetically throughout the play, you knew immediately what was up when you both stepped out of the opera house to a light sprinkle.
You smiled at him, knowingly, charmingly, reaching forwards to press your lips to his cheek. And just like that the stars were out again.
And now you're home, in the bedroom, on the master bed. You fell down onto it as soon as you entered the room and haven't moved yet, even after he's exited the bathroom. It's late, after all.
Half asleep and dozing, your hands are half curled by your head, and a smile paints your face, sweet and blasé.
You are so beautiful.
He's going to take care of you.
The heels unclasp with hardly a sound; pretty little blue things you bought to match him, you had said. The dress and everything else however, he bought for you.
It makes something in his chest curl, as he carefully shimmies off your heels, as he drags his hands under the hem of your skirt to unclasp your garter belts, rubbing away the indents left there. Old, possessive feelings he thought he'd outgrown long ago.
But you are in his bed, wearing the clothes he bought for you, looking so soft and sweet there, as he rests his head on the soft plush of your thighs, breathing you in and trying not to shake with the urge to just grab you.
You always evoke these sorts of emotions from him. Something he once thought he could never understand, something to be repressed, for its unsightliness; You hold it all all up to the light and don't even flinch.
You give a little half sigh, and Neuvillette relents.
He slides your thighs apart, slowly, nudging closer to your core, swiping his long tongue over the fabric of your panties. Smooth silk and a lace pattern, the seam of your womanhood he can all  feel, but he wants to taste.
They slip off easily like they are meant to, and soon enough Neuvillette is lapping at you, smooth wet glides along your inner folds. Slick gathers under his tongue while you sigh and gasp above him, and he groans into your skin, pressing himself closer, spreading your thighs further.
"Neuvillette…? What are you, oh, archons ...." Now that won't do, he lifts his head from your skin, mouth smeared in slick, and clicks his tongue at you.
"I want to hear only my name from your lips, dear. I'm the one here with you, after all." And just the thought of them hearing; Focalor would act smug and pester him to no end, so no need. This was none of her concern nor business.
"How long have I been asleep?" 
"Not nearly long enough. I was hoping I could get you to climax whilst you still slept. Alas," he lowers himself back down, "I guess I can try another time."
He takes off his gloves, spreads your folds with his fingers and spits on your cunt, once, twice, spreading it with his tongue, before slipping a finger into your tight hole. He groans into your pussy when he feels how you flutter, the moan that leaves your lips as you fall back into the covers.
You taste sweet. It must be from the desert you had earlier. 
He thrusts his finger, feeling you clench around it, and he opens his mouth wider to have more of you, alternating between slipping his tongue in your hole alongside his fingers and sucking on your clit. Your hands fly to his hair and tug; the scalp by his horns sensitive, and heat curls in his stomach, hips twitching into a half thrust. He moans deeply, like a rumble around your clit, and you come with a cry.
He doesn't let go. He thrusts his fingers in deeper, sucking harshly around your clit, swallowing everything you have to offer. Your hands are buried in his hair, and he's practically wearing your thighs like earmuffs; the soft, thin fabric of your stockings tickle his ears, the points no doubt flushed like the rest of his face.
You came quickly, you must have been pent up. He presses a last kiss to your clit before he rises, smoothing his fingers out of you slowly– his composure threatens to snap with the happy, flushed look on your face, the way his fingers are almost pruned with how wet you are.
He licks his lips and he can still taste you, the tang of your orgasm something he could rip people apart for.
Hm. He should act with more restraint. This is not very becoming for the Chief of Justice.
But rather fitting for your husband.
Your legs snake around his hips as you draw him in, he lets you, your hands reaching to cup his face, pressing him into an open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue laps up the mess you made and he chases it with his own, you smile at the mess of it all.
"You're supposed to close your eyes when you kiss," you murmur sweetly, opening your eyes.
"And miss those precious few seconds of seeing you? I could never."
"Oh love, come now, you're going to make me blush if you keep teasing me." Yes, tease that you are, he gives a sharp nip at the thumb you swipe over his bottom lip, a pleased hum in his chest as he looks at you and you giggle.
"Good. I'd like to do much more than that."
"Oh, but of course, I'm all yours." His large hands smooth over your thighs and hips, inching the lace and ruffles of your skirt higher up.
"It's not too much?"
"I'll let you know if it is. Come now," and you tug him closer.
"I want you to make love to me."
You unbutton his top half, untie his cravat, slip the fabric of his suit over his shoulders till his skin is bare to your touch. Cool blue lines, some bold, some thin, breaking waves over the planes of his body. 
He stops your hands as you start to undress, half exposed you are already.
"It's fine. Leave it on."
"Oh? Does the Chief of Justice have a thing for half dressed debauchery?"
"Perhaps I do. Would you be willing to indulge me?" Your smile stays yet your blush deepens when he tugs down his pants and briefs, his member hard and dripping already.
"Surely you'd allow me to remove this much, it's so hot already," you whine as you strip, just enough that the fabric is over your shoulders and bunched under your breasts, nipples half hard in the low lamp light. 
His mouth waters. He mouths at your shoulder, nipping marks onto your collarbone. He feels the hitch of your breath when he slides his cock through the slick folds of your pussy, the tremble of your thighs.
"Hm? Do you like this?" He makes sure to slide his cock all along your walls, smearing himself with the fluids of your orgasm, catching himself on the rim of your hole.
"Is this good enough for you Princess?" He pulls back, taking himself in hand, slapping the fat head of his cock against your clit, a slight growl in his chest when you cry out.
"No…"
"No? How greedy. What else can I do for you, my love? Hm?" He slaps your clit again, and once more, and you whimper, delicious.
His other hand moves, cupping your breast, squeezing and massaging, pinching the hardened nipple.
"Or do you prefer this, my love?" He breathes before popping the other breast into his mouth, gently suckling, rolling the bud in his mouth.
You groan, hands coming up to his hair and pulling him face to face with you, stroking over the ponts of his ears and making him shiver.
"I prefer it when you're inside." You kiss him, silky smooth, and he shudders into your mouth, slipping his tongue inside of you. 
He slides his cock along your puffy, petal soft folds, and starts pressing himself inside. You can probably feel the stretch because you groan again, telling him to hurry the hell up.
But he's not going to hurt you with his…considerable length. He ruts into you, one slow inch at a time, till you're softer and he's seated fully. He doesn't stay still though, he grinds into you, slow enough you can open up more and get used to the feeling.
He feels the skin at the base of his cock tighten, a telltale sign of his knot beginning to swell. He has to remind himself to breathe, and focus on you.
He thrusts, but stops when you wince, feeling you tighten around him, slick and hot, so tight he's not sure whether you're clamping down on him or trying to push him out. 
"Relax,relax my love, or was it too soon?" You shake your head, sighing as you try to force your walls to soften. You must be worked up, extra sensitive from your last orgasm. 
"I-I'm fine…"
"Are you sure?" He moves again, tentative. Your eyes roll at the stretch, hands scratching at his arms and chest. He can feel how slick you are and sighs, tossing his head back.
"Yes, just go, move, please, please…"
He starts to move, fucking himself into you, hissing when you clench around him. His hands fall to the soft fat of your thighs, dimpling in his grip when he slides them further apart, angling his hips to reach deeper.
You whine, and he can feel how slick you are, feel you gushing as he slides over that spot that has you cringing away.
He lifts a thigh, over his shoulder, so he can fuck into you harder, hitting that one spot so he can feel you gush around him. He thrusts and you breathe in time, your pretty face flushed and your pretty tits bouncing with how he's fucking you, deep and fast. His cock jumps when you whine out his name.
He feels a bit stupid like this. Or rather, undone. His mind stalls, thoughts dripping slow and sweet like molasses. Your tight, warm cunt pulling him in, squeezing like a vice around him. He can't help thinking about anything else, can't help the harsh snap of his hips, the way he grinds into you.
You cry when as he does so, the length of him is no longer a problem with how wet you are, his cockhead just kissing that spot that will no doubt have you seeing stars, the slap of skin on skin loud and wet.
Your hands scramble in the sheets so he holds them down for you, entwining his fingers with yours. It helps ground him. And you smile up at him, tilting your chin up for a kiss. He indulges you, as he always has, sweet thing you are.
He's looming over you, fucking into you, deep and eager. You sigh, the drag of his cock, a hot rush of pleasure every time he fills you up. He gasps your name and you whimper in reply.
"Doing so good…Fucking me so well love." The air stutters in his chest, and he can feel his knot swell, the praise going right to his dick.
"You're so beautiful." You hum in reply, the sound so smooth and pleased it's almost a purr.
"Yeah? I am?"
"Yes, you are," he chuckles, dark and low.
"So beautiful. I'm going make you cum again, just like this, okay? You deserve it."
He's not…very experienced at this, but, for you he tries. The bulb at the base of his dick is thick and inflated, half slipping inside your cunt with every snap of his hips.
"I’m gonna cum, I'm gonna cum soon…"
"That's good, you can cum. You can cum darling, I've got you." His knot doesn't fit inside you just yet exactly, but feeling your cunt try to to take him still has his mouth watering, hips twitching out of rhythm.
His teeth drift along your collarbone, before he bites down, and you clamp on his cock and cum around him. He fucks you through it while you make a mess of the sheets, hands scrambling at his back. A growl rips itself out his throat, his teeth still buried in your flesh, marking you.
Your leg kicks out, and Neuvillette lets you yank yourself away, curling into yourself with the force of your orgasm. His hand holds his cock, his knot throbbing almost painfully, firing a heated rod in his belly. A hiss escapes his gritted teeth, while he reigns himself back in. it would’ve been nice if you could’ve taken all of him, but this was about you, not him.
His hands move to your belly, your legs and sides, soothing you and reminding you to breathe through your cries. You gasp out his name in soft pants, brow furrowed and thighs trembling. 
Slowly you uncurl from your little ball, like a flower, Neuvillette thinks, as you open yourself up to him. Your skin is blushed, from your face to your chest, ruddy and ruined.
Beautiful.
"Are you alright dear? Anything you need at all?" With a hum and a soft 'no', you wrap your arms around his neck so he can pull you up and into his lap. He tries to pay no heed to his still hard cock between the both of your bodies, thick and dripping.
"Are you satisfied, dearest?"
"Mhm…" You press lazy kisses to his jaw and he smiles, smoothing a hand over your hair.
"That's good then."
"Hmm…but what about you?"
"I'm alright dear." You roll your hips down and he groans, hips twitching up. He has to grab your waist to stop you from moving, ignoring when you whine.
"I said… I said it's alright dear." 
"But you didn't get to cum. Please?"
"Making love is not about reaching an orgasm." You pout, teary eyed and pitiful. 
"But I want to make you feel good, you do this far too often as is."
He smiles and noses your jaw, the soft skin beneath your ear and the marks he left lower.
"I'm satisfied just pleasing you dearest. I don't need much else."
You try to wiggle your hips down onto hips but he still has that steel grip on you; You whine and paw at his chest.
"Villette–!"
"You don't have to worry about pleasing me love," he pulls you down as he lays back, pulling you flush against him. Affection is warm in his chest, making his words honey and humored. 
"I'm more than fine with just this. Pleasing you is enough for me."
"Well not for me," you grumble. You pout, but then your eyes light up in a realization. He trails his hand down your spine while you think, undoing a few buttons while he's at it to feel more of your skin.
"You know…"
"Yes, love?"
"I like it when you make love to me like this Villette."
"I do too." He kisses your cheek, feeling you smile.
"You always make sure I'm satisfied."
"Of course."
"But you know what I like better?" 
"What is that, love?"
"When you cum." He sighs in exasperation, but fond when you turn his face back towards you.
"I'm being serious! That's when I'm most satisfied." 
"Well, it seems we're both in the habit of preferring to please the other."
"Hm…no. It's more selfish on my end."
"Oh? How so?" He swipes his thumb over your soft cheek, feeling you melt in his hands, putty. Your smile is more mischievous and sultry than sweet, however.
"Well, I just love it when you cum inside me, when you fill me up and fuck it all back into me when it spills out."
Your voice goes low and he swallows thickly, frowning.
"Don't be so crude dear."
"Who else am I to share my desires with if not my husband? Would you rather me go to someone else?"
"Of course not." Don't be daft, he wants to tell you. Just the idea has his hands tensing, his mouth twitching, ready for a snarl. How possessive he feels over you. How right it feels to be so. But, he knows you're just teasing him. 
And you know it's working. Your smile is coy, as you move to take off your dress. He helps you and soon you are as bared to him as he is for you. 
You make a sight, sitting in his lap with nothing but your stockings and mussed hair, his cock stiff along your thigh.  Your earrings catch the light, twinkling like stars.
You take the hands he has on your hips and draw them up your body, drawing them up to your face where you kiss into his open palms, sighing.
"I love you." His breath catches in his throat, sticky and thick.
"I love you. And I want you. I want all of you."
"...You have me dearest." His voice goes low, soft enough that it's just a rumble in his chest. You slide your hands down his torso, lightly dragging your nails and he trembles.
"Then let me make you feel good? Please?" Your hands go below his hips, rubbing circles into his skin when he shudders.
"Love, love you don't have to–"
"Please? I want to." You lean, to whisper in his ear.
"I want to feel you. I want all of you. I want you to cum inside me and I want your knot and I want you to fuck me, Villette. Please?"
"...You are so vulgar."
"But you love me anyways?"
He groans, covering his eyes, tossing his head back and you grin at the surrender. 
Your hands come around his cock, and he gives a little half-aborted thrust into your hands. He had swelled down some in the aftercare, but he felt the growing heat in his groin and sighed, a mutter under his breath.
You have to use both your hands to wrap around his girth, your thumb just under the head of cock, pressing down on a vein there. He snarls, softly, and moves to cover your hands with his own.
"...Tighter. And faster. Like this." Your hands are so small compared to his, as he shows you. Soon you’re stroking his length, wet clicks every time you pump down, squeezing around his knot and twisting your hand around the red head of his cock, digging the pad of your finger into his dripping slit.
He bites down on his lip, tossing his head back onto the pillows. His thighs shake, and he can see the dark red tip of his shaft, wet and shiny. He wondered how much of the slick is leftover from when he was inside you. How slick it'll be when you're finished with him.
"You are so pretty, you know that?" You catch his attention with a harsh pump, twisting your hand down around his knot. His breath catches.
"When you're like this, with your pretty face and your pretty thighs and your pretty cock making such a mess in my hands. I love it." His dick jumps in your hand and he clicks his tongue at you.
"Sweet talker."
"But you like it! You're blushing, look," and your mouth curves dangerously. 
"Even your cock is blushing." He hisses your name but you laugh, moving off his lap to lay between his thighs. 
You open your mouth and let your tongue loll out. A thick bead of spit falls, right onto his tip, and you quickly gather that and spread it over his cock. He has no time to wonder what you're going to do, because you duck your head, taking one of his balls into your mouth.
You run your tongue over the delicate skin, suckly softly, before slurping the other into your mouth. His hand comes and twists into the hair of your nape and you hum, just to feel him shudder.
You move up, to the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. You drag your tongue slowly along the path of it, taking just the tip of him into your mouth. You make sure he's looking at you as you suckle softly, and when he tugs at your hair you start in earnest.
He's too big for you to take him in one swallow, so you work yourself, inch by inch. He helps you, using your hair as an anchor and rocking into your mouth, slowly, till his knot slips inside and you can feel him twitching at the back of your throat. 
It's a stretch, as usual. He's so big and so good you can't help moaning around him, high and needy, and he breaks.
His hips snap back and he slams into your mouth with a growl. You moan again and he curses under his breath, tilting your head for a better angle when he thrusts again.
He picks up rhythm, and the smooth glide of his cock on your tongue has you moaning and rubbing your thighs together, slick gathering. You want him inside, you want him to fuck you again, but more than that you want him to cum. Hard.
You don't think he's going to last long, anyways. He never has, the few times he's let you do this. Even now, his rhythm is sloppy as he fucks into your mouth, his moans going breathy and high. But that's fine, you want him like this, so you meet every thrust, sucking harder, hollowing out your cheeks and taking him as far as he can go. 
He tugs at your hair again, and you look up, meeting his eyes,the  pupils blown out and mouth open in a pant.You make sure yours are wide in faux innocence; Even fluttering your lashes when he bucks into your hot mouth again, rolling your eyes back a little. He snarls, and you feel his cock jump, the first hot spurts of cum on landing on your tongue. But before you could swallow he pulls you off, a slick pop when he leaves your mouth.
A dark growl snarls out from his clenched teeth, but he holds you in place, not letting you sink back onto him.
"Neuvillette!!" You're mad. What the hell?! Why would he do that? Not only did he pull you off of him, robbing you of his taste, he ruined his own orgasm!
His teeth are still barred, pupils blown dark and wide, diamond shaped. His chest falls and rises in harsh pants, a bit of drool at the corner of his lips, red and bitten, kiss swollen. He looks wild.
"Didnt…I didn't climax yet."
"What?"
"I didn't cum. I'm, I’m holding it..."
"Wait, what? Why?" Why? You want to demand your answers, you want him back in your mouth or your cunt, but he moves before you do.
His hand is still on your nape, and he doesn't talk, just uses it to drag you up and over his body, so he can kiss you. His tongue sweeps the wet cavern of your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue, the roof of your mouth, your canines.
He lays back, pulling you on top of him, while you hook your leg around his waist. His hand comes under your thigh, spreading you farther as he slips inside, splitting you on the first few inches of his cock. You clap onto him, sensitive still from your last two orgasms.
You rock your hips, trying to slip more and more of him inside your quivering cunt, eager and impatient. He throws his head back, exposing the pretty line and bob of his adams apple, when he feels his knot catch the rim of your entrance, the way you try to suck him in.
"Dont….Don't force yourself-"
"I can take it," you cut him off, and fuck if that doesn't make his belly tighten.
"I can take it, just help me." He meets your rocking with shallow thrusts of his own, slipping further inside you, a rush of warmth every time you gasp when he enters. 
You gasp when his knot slips past your entrance, he can feel you stretch to accommodate him and waits for you to adjust, trying to ignore the urge to just buck up into you, ans swallow everything you have to offer. He can wait.
But you’re not that patient. You lean against him and bury a whine into his shoulder when you start to move; bouncing up and down on his cock, not that he lets you go far. Neuvillette's hands clamp onto your waist, pulling you down to meet his thrusts everytime you come back down.
You can feel him, his cockhead hitting that gummy spot with every thrusts, making you shiver, eyes rolling back a little. You can feel his knot too, massaging into your walls, thick and tender. You're going to cum soon, like this.
He doesn't let you do this often. You're going to milk it for all its worth.
You give that breathless smile you know makes his heart flutter, and start whispering the things that come to your mind, the thoughts you had this evening.
How pretty he looks under you, flushed and barely holding onto decorum. How pretty he’ll look when he comes inside of you. How you've been wanting to have him all night; perhaps sneaking away and tasting him during dinner, have him fuck your mouth so you can swallow him down. Or maybe even in the opera house, in the darkness behind the curtains, have him feel how slick you were even then, how tender and eager you are.
"How lewd." He berates you, frowning but you smile wider, moaning when he traces over a sweet spot of yours, his hips drawing magic figure eights that have you gushing around him.
"Hm? And yet…you're the one fucking into me right now." You flutter your walls and he groans, but if anything, he moves faster, jaw tight like a bowstring.
You trace the line of his throat and he swallows, looking up at you where you are with just the slightest vexation, a scolding. He can't hide the desperation gleaming there though.
"Don't pretend," he hisses when you tighten, rolling his hips to get you to soften, "that I'm doing you a favor."
"But you are. I want you just like this my love." With a nudge you press him further down into the sheets, his wide eyes shot with pleasure and awe.
Your voice turns tender, sweet.
"I want you all flushed and pretty, and fucking your knot into me till you fill me up with your cum, okay?"
"Oh fuck," you feel him twitch inside you and shudder, lifting your hips and bouncing down on him, pulling his hair a little. 
You move, sliding off of him with a slick pop, before slamming back down in a single thrust, arching your back in that way you know he likes. His hands scramble at your back, a moan wracking in his chest.
"Love you, love you, ah fuck I love you," you moan against his mouth, the messy sweep of his tongue. You grind down just to feel his knot tighten inside of you, fluttering your walls. His back arches off the bed, and he cums with a sharp gasp. 
He doesn't let you slip off of him; He presses tight against your cervix, hot spurts of cum painting your womb white. You whimper, just teetering that edge, caught on his knot and unable to move.
His belly twitches under you, breath hot and labored. A tortured moan leaves his throat as you move again, chasing your own pleasure, desperate. You smooth the hair back from his forehead, just to see the ruddy fucked out look on his face better.
“So fucking pretty. So, so good to me. Can I keep going? Just a little more, alright?” You run your hands down the planes of his chest, lean like a swimmer but more built, the quivering skin of his belly, happy trail wet with sweat and fluids.
"Please, please, let me just–" You start to slip him inside but he moves for you, laying you both on your sides and snapping his hips snug against yours. The new angle has him hitting that spot with perfect accuracy, and you gush around him, back arching. He stifles down something that sounded half whimper, half moan, and bucks into you like an animal in heat.
It's filthy, loud and wet, the way he fucks you, and so out of character for him that you’d get whiplash, if you could think of anything other than the tight curl of heat in your belly, the way your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave.
He rolls you onto your back and slides his mouth over yours to swallow your cries, his hands scrambling everywhere-your knee, your tummy, your hips and breasts and shoulders, possessive little touches. You soak the sheets, and he rolls himself into you to tide you over, murmuring reassurances into your mouth, sliding his knee on the soft skin of your thigh. He came again, you can feel how full you are, it probably would’ve been leaking out if his knot wasn’t acting like a sort of plug. He throbs inside, pumping his hips in a sloppy rhythm.
When it wanes you groan, smoothing your hands down the column of his spine. He moves to your neck and chest, nibbling and sucking marks into your skin.
“Hm…That was nice.” You wince when he slips out, and yeah, you can feel his cum rush out of you, the feeling is too open and not welcome.
“You certainly let loose. You must have been pent up, huh?”
“Oh shush you,” He kisses along your jaw and cheek, seeking out affection. Your foot slides along his calf, soothing, calming him down.
”Still, we should do this more often.”
“You’ll be spoiled if I indulge you too much. It’s best we show restraint.”
“Hm, I could see your point. But, if we do this more often we can get to the point where I can take your knot more easily and–” He kisses you to cut you off, and before you can reply he has you scooped up in his arms, sliding off the bed and heading towards the bath.
“Your mouth is so vulgar; I don't understand how your mouth filters out everything but the obscene.”
“It's one of my charms. Do you not find me charming, love?” He gives you a look, up and down, and you realize you probably look a bit more than charming; Flushed and covered in his marks, his spent still leaking from your cunt. You still lift an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.
He sighs, setting you on the lip of the tub, reaching behind you to fill it. You brush his hair back from his neck as he leans in, just to press a kiss there.
“Yes. I find you charming and lovely and alluring, beautiful and damning. Though, I hope to find you clean and resting in my arms, in our bed tonight. Can we have that, my dear? I want nothing more.” 
“Well,” you know you’re blushing, like a schoolgirl with a crush, and not someone who just made love with their husband. How silly. “If you insist.” You flutter your lashes at him and he smiles, fond and adoring, rolling his eyes and pressing his lips to your temple. Your heart warms.
“I love you, Villette.”
“I love you as well. Most ardently and wholeheartedly.” 
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goodlittlerobot · 9 months
Text
Steve doesn’t really understand how he got here. His life has definitely been weird the past few years, but he thinks that hanging out alone, with Eddie “The Freak” Munson, in his bedroom, might take the cake.
He sort of knows how it happened, after everything happened last spring, things started to settle. The town worked on rebuilding, Vecna seems to be gone, or at least maybe under control, school started back up for the kids, work resumed, everyone was just trying to get back to whatever normal was now.
And as things slowly got a little more boring, Steve found himself with more time to spend with friends and less worrying about the world ending. But as Steve started forming a friend group, Eddie Munson somehow became a part of it. Which Steve wasn’t upset about, Eddie had won him over in the upside down. He didn’t dislike Eddie, he’d actually grown on Steve a lot, which was unexpected.
As unexpected as it was, Steve still gets how it happens, but ending up alone with Eddie like this? Technically he knows how that happened too. The whole group had gotten together for a while at Eddie’s, then Robin and Nancy had decided to split up and go have their own night, complaining that there was “too much testosterone in the air”. Steve didn’t blame them and was happy to see Nancy and Robin become friends as well.
But after Jonathan and Argyle left a little early, it was just Steve and Eddie. And that’s when Steve quickly became aware of the fact that he’s never really been alone with Eddie before, and he isn’t sure why that makes him nervous. Sure, they’ve been alone but not for that long and not like this. But even still, Steve isn’t sure why he’s getting so flustered.
Eddie is smiling and telling him all about…something. Steve realizes he stopped listening a while ago, but he knows Eddie’s excited so he’s doing his best to act like he’s listening.
Eddie finishes with a “you know?”, Steve nods and hopes it’s convincing. “Where’d I lose ya, Harrington?” -it wasn’t.
Steve sighs, “Yeah, I zoned out pretty hard there.” He admits, smiling a little.
Eddie laughs, Steve’s heart flips. That’s weird. “Okay, let me try this again…”
It’s a few hours before Steve leaves Eddie’s place, they’d both completely lost track of time while talking. Eddie played some records, and Steve didn’t even hate them like he thought he would. They ended up listening to music and laying on Eddie’s floor, they hadn’t shut up in hours but suddenly the room was quiet. Eddie has his eyes closed, his hands behind his head and a soft, small smile on his face. Steve cannot look away. He keeps telling himself to look away, he knows Eddie’s gonna catch him staring. Steve is searching Eddie’s face for answers, but he doesn’t know what questions he’s asking. His heart is racing and his hands are starting to feel like static, and he can’t look away.
And then it happens, Eddie’s eyes open slowly and he turns his head to face Steve, “Like what you see, Harrington?”
Steve’s breath catches and he doesn’t know why. “Yeah-“ he realizes what he says, as it comes out of his mouth. “I mean no-“ he finally tears his eyes away from Eddie to close them and run a hand over his face. “I mean, wait-“
Eddie laughs, “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you had a crush on me.” He looks away from Steve and grins at the ceiling.
Steve lets that repeat in his head, and it keeps repeating. His chest feels tight and his face is hot, shit he knows he’s blushing. He shakes his head, hoping the thoughts will just fly out. “No, no, no. I-I’m just-I didn’t mean to like, stare at you, I was thinking and I just-“ he is falling over his words, he isn’t even sure how he’s talking, the only thing he can hear right now is Eddie’s voice still echoing in the back of his mind.
A big smile spreads on Eddie’s face slowly, he’s the one staring now. “I was joking, jesus.” He chuckles lightly.
Steve starts to feel a little more relaxed, but he still feels like he’s…drunk? high? dreaming? He turns his head again and locks eyes with Eddie, the second he does his heart flips again and he makes a note to see a fucking doctor.
Neither of them say anything for a second, it feels like a lot longer to Steve. He’s never felt this self conscious before. He’s so aware of how much space is between he and Eddie, it’s less than a foot, and Steve can suddenly feel the heat coming from the boy next to him. He starts to wonder seriously if maybe he is dreaming, and then he finally pulls his eyes away from Eddie’s to the clock on Eddie’s dresser. “Holy shit, it’s late.” He says sitting up, “I completely forgot I have to work in the morning. I better go.”
Eddie sits up too and watches as Steve stands up and grabs his jacket off of the bed frame. “Lame.” He says, standing up to follow Steve out. “but responsible.”
When they say goodbye, Steve keeps thinking he’s forgetting something. He’s checked his pockets like ten times, he knows he’s good, what is he missing? He realizes as he’s walking to his car that he just doesn’t really want to leave, he wants to stay. He wants to keep listening to records and he wants to keep laying next to Eddie.
When he starts driving away, he glances back he notices Eddie, still leaning against his doorframe, still watching Steve. That’s when Steve starts hearing Eddie’s stupid joke playing in his head again.
And he hears it over and over and over, the rest of the night. He hears it when he drives home, he hears it when he showers, as he brushes his teeth, and it’s the loudest when he tries to sleep. He tosses and turns for hours, unable to stop replaying the night in his head, unable to think about anything but Eddie Munson. Usually he’d be grateful for a night with no flashes of monsters and death in his mind, but tonight he thinks he might prefer it.
Around 2am he sits up, throws his blanket to the side in frustration and just sits on the side of his bed for a minute. He debates going downstairs and just waiting out the next few hours until he has to go to work. He thinks about taking a walk, maybe that would clear his head? He’s way too tired for that though.
He just sighs and puts his head in his hands, he decides the only thing he can do right now is face it.
“If i didn’t know better, I’d say you have a crush on me, Harrington.”
He thinks about it one more time. He asks himself why is he feeling the same way he felt the first time he liked a girl, why was he as nervous at Eddie’s house as he was on his very first date? Why did his heart flip when Eddie smiled at him the same way it used to for Nancy?
Because that’s the thing, six months ago Steve was planning this big life in his head with Nancy. He was in love with her, he was attracted to her, he liked her. He doesn’t like Eddie. -Not like that.
Steve Harrington isn’t gay, he knows that. He knows that because he still thinks Nancy is beautiful, he thinks Robin is beautiful, he’s attracted to girls. Steve loves girls, he likes their long hair, he likes their soft lips, he likes boobs. If Steve knows anything, he knows he likes boobs.
Eventually he talks himself down enough to lay back down. He likes girls. He doesn’t even know why he was acting like that now, he feels like an idiot.
So, of course his heart wasn’t doing flips because he likes Eddie. He was tired, he was distracted, and it was his first time one on one with his new friend. He was just a little nervous? Yeah, no, he was just a little nervous. He likes girls. He didn’t think that when Eddie smiles the world feels brighter, and he definitely didn’t notice that Eddie’s hand accidentally brushed against his when they were talking, and he never even thought about how those brown eyes would just light up when Eddie got excited.
Steve likes girls. He likes girls with long, wild hair, he likes girls with big brown eyes, he likes girls with soft lips, he likes girls with tattoos, he likes girls with ripped jeans, he likes girls who play weird dorky games, he likes girls who listen to heavy metal, he likes girls who look at him for a little too long while they lay on the floor together. Steve likes girls.
And that’s what he tells himself the rest of the night, but the rest of the night only lasts a minute or two before he finally falls into a peaceful sleep.
He wishes. Instead he’s tossed right back into Eddie’s room, the faint sounds of guitars and laughter fill the space, brown eyes on him again. Maybe it is a little peaceful, until he hears his alarm.
He wakes up, the room finally bright again, he barely recognizes it after spending so long tossing and turning in the dark last night. He sits up and shuts his alarm off, he sleepily makes his way to the bathroom and somewhere between brushing his teeth and getting dressed he remembers his dream. He just remembers flashes, bits and pieces. He remembers Eddie. He tells himself it’s not a big deal, even though something in him is begging to disagree.
He ends up being a couple minutes late, and when he gets in he expects to hear Robin giving him shit about it, but instead he hears “What happened?”
He furrows his brow and looks at Robin, who is giving him a look for some reason. “Hmm?” he barely had the energy for that reply, but he makes his way in and throws his jacket on the counter as he gets the rest of his things ready.
“You look awful, Harrington.” Robin says from behind him, “Are you sick?”
Steve blinks, and turns to face her. “Actually, you know what?” He laughs a little, and Robin gives him a concerned look. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe.” It all makes sense, that’s gotta be it. He’s sick. He’s coming down with something and he’s just getting confused because he’s sick. He’s just sick. “You know, that would explain it. I’ve been feeling so weird.”
Robin frowns a little, “Do you need to go home? What’s wrong? fever? Chills? Headache? You know, I was reading this magazine with Nancy last night and it said that you could cure almost anything with tea-“
“I’m good, I’m good.” Steve smiles, cutting Robin off. “I don’t feel sick, but no like I’m probably about to be sick or something.” He rationalizes out loud. “I barely slept, I was up all night.”
Robin gives him a weird look, “Wait, you don’t feel sick? Why were you up all night?”
Shit. Now he doesn’t know what to say, he usually finds it hard to lie to Robin. Steve thinks her habit of oversharing must be contagious. He opens his mouth to reply, but closes it and just kinda shrugs. But she’s still looking at him, confused. “I was just…I couldn’t sleep.”
“Yeah?” She looks him over for a second before going back to her stack of returned VHS tapes she’s sorting through, without looking up she asks “How long did you stay at Eddie’s after Nance and I left?”
Steve looks at her out of the corner of his eye for a second, “I was there a while, I dunno.” He says quietly, pretending to be reading the cover of the movie in his hands. “I uh, I ended up listening to records with Eddie for a few hours.”
“A few hours?” Robin looks at him again, “With, like- you and Eddie alone?”
He doesn’t know what to say, or why Robin is asking like that. He’s had enough of confusion and questions in the past how every many hours, he just looks at Robin for a second, takes a breath as if he’s gonna say something and decides against it again, instead he simply walks away with the VHS still in his hands. He doesn’t even know what it is, he glances down and reads the title for real this time. It goes on the other side of the store, he turns and pretends he doesn’t notice Robin following him.
“Like just the two of you?” She asks again, on his heels. “Have you ever even been alone before?
He puts the tape away and sighs. “Yeah, we were alone. I don’t see why that’s a big deal.” He crosses his arms.
“What?” She scoffs. “It’s not, it’s just you guys are kind of…” She trails off and Steve raises an eye brow at her, “opposites.” she finishes.
Steve relaxes, he doesn’t know why he got so nervous. He doesn’t know why he thinks that Robin would think…-okay, he’s overthinking things. “I don’t know, he’s cool.” He shrugs, avoiding looking at Robin. “I guess we’re friends now.”
Robin nods slowly. “Just when I thought I’d seen it all, King Steve listening to heavy metal with the town weirdo.” She snorts softly. “Now that’s something.”
He rolls his eyes. “Let’s just do our jobs for once, okay?”
The rest of their shift goes by completely normally, it’s a slow day, there’s not a ton to do and they’re just about finished for the day so they have time to sit around and talk. Steve is thankful for the downtime, he is exhausted and all he can think about is going home and going to sleep.
He’s doing his best to not doze off right now, sitting on the counter and talking to Robin as she organizes the candy for probably the tenth time today. She’s rambling, and it’s comforting even if Steve isn’t paying close attention.
The bell chimes from the door and Steve begrudgingly slides off the counter out of habit, he goes to turn to greet whoever came in when he hears a familiar “Hey, Harrington.” and his heart does that thing again.
He blinks a few times and keeps thinking he’s going to respond but doesn’t. He’s thought about Eddie so much these past how ever many hours that he’s not even sure if Eddie is really here or if he’s just hallucinating. But then Eddie adds, “Buckley, my lady.” with a small, dorky bow.
Robin laughs and rolls her eyes, “Thank god you showed up, it’s slow as shit and I don’t know what you did to Steve last night but he’s been falling asleep for the past half an hour.”
Steve tries so hard to say anything before Eddie can, he already knows there’s going to be some kind of retort, but Steve’s too slow.
“Sounds like I wore you out, huh big boy?” Eddie smirks and looks up at Steve as he leans his forearms against the counter.
Steve’s chest feels like his heart might just burst out of it, it’s beating so fast. “Yeah, whatever.” He rolls his eyes, wiping his palms on his pants absentmindedly, why are they sweaty? He’s sick. He’s for sure sick. “What brings you in, Munson?”
“Well I’d like to say I just missed you nerds, but believe it or not I need a movie.” He taps his knuckles on the counter quickly. “Got a date, recommend something, Steve.”
“A date?” Robin and Steve say at the same time, but with differing tones. Robin sounds interested, Steve sounds shocked.
“Oh, is that such a surprise?” Eddie rolls his eyes and makes his way to the first rack of movies he sees.
“Kinda?” Steve admits, turning to follow Eddie. “You should have Robin recommend something, she’d be better at knowing what girls like.”
Eddie looks at Steve for a second and Steve knows there’s a reason for this look, but he’s unable to figure out what it is. “Probably so.” Eddie says slowly, “But hey, you’re ‘The Hair’, I know you’ve got moves.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugs. He looks around for Robin and notices she’d stayed behind at the counter, he also sees that she’s been watching them. Steve takes note of that but keeps talking to Eddie, he tries to hide that his hands are shaky while he gives suggestions.
They walk and talk around the store, it feels easy but it’s not. Not for Steve at least, he feels like his brain is running on empty. After a handful of recommendations, Eddie is reading the back of a case and Steve can’t stop himself from asking “So who’s the girl?” he asks quietly, and he’s not sure why.
Eddie looks at him, “What?”
Steve attempts a small smile, “Your date?”
“Oh,” Eddie blows out a laugh, but pauses, he looks at Steve for a second and now Steve feels like maybe he’s the one with answers on his face this time because Eddie has this look, and Steve can tell he wants to say something.
Steve doesn’t break eye contact though, even though his brain is begging him to stop looking at Eddie, he can’t. He isn’t sure why his eyes betray him this way, but he glances at Eddie’s mouth for a second and he nearly falls over when it hits him. He kinda wants…maybe- no. Steve likes girls.
“How’s the movie search going?” Robin asks, and Steve isn’t sure when she got so close.
Eddie looks at her as if he wasn’t just looking right into Steve’s soul, he smiles “Harrington here has been a delight, you should give him a raise.”
“If i had that power, I would use it to fire him for standing around and flirting with the customers all day.” Robin says,
“Oh my god.” Steve mutters, rolls his eyes and heads for the counter. “I’ll be over here, working, if you two wanna keep doing…this.” He takes a stack of movies and wishes he knew what they were for but he’s gotten pretty good at just looking like he’s working today.
Robin and Eddie stay behind, chatting. Steve tries his hardest to not listen, he’s not sure why he cares. He doesn’t care. There’s nothing to care or not care about. He does a good job at minding his business at first.
“So did you pick a movie for your date?” is all Robin says, but just the word date is enough to get Steve’s attention. But, he doesn’t care. He’s screaming in his head to stop listening, but doesn’t.
“Yeah, but movie nights aren’t really about the movie, right?” Eddie says and Steve doesn’t look but he can hear his smirk. “Mostly background noise.”
Steve feels a new feeling he can’t name. It doesn’t feel like it did last night anymore. Last night was weird, but it felt better than this. This unidentified feeling feels…bad. His heart is still beating like crazy, but not quite like it was. No, now he feels kind of like he’s mad. Why is he mad? Jealous? He feels kind of jealous. No. Steve decided that’s crazy, forces himself to stop listening and just takes a breath. He’s losing it.
He gets out of his head just in time to see Eddie and Robin heading back to the counter, he reminds himself to act normal but already knows he’ll fail.
“Alright, Harrington. I’m going to listen to you but if this movie sucks i’m never taking your advice again.” He puts the movie down and Robin takes care of the rest.
Steve leans on the counter behind Robin, facing Eddie. “Listen, just rewind it before you bring it back, ‘kay?”
“Whatever you say, big boy.” Eddie says, before grabbing the movie. “Tell you what, if it doesn’t suck, you can suggest another movie and we’ll watch it together, make a night of it.”
Steve can feel his face go red. He knows Eddie did not mean it like that, he knows that. He still can’t stop the images that spark throughout his brain. He can’t help but think about how a night like that might go. He takes a shaky breath, “Yeah-“ his voice is too high, he clears his throat a little. “yeah, no movie night sounds fun.” He glances over to Robin, who is a little wide eyed and Steve can tell she’s dying to say something but she can’t. “Movie night?” He says, a little quickly, nodding. “We sh-should do a movie night with like, all of us one night. That-that could be fun?” He says, putting a hand on his hip, and he’s not sure how to stop stumbling over his words and he’s also not sure why he’s only looking at Robin now. He’s spent this whole time nearly unable to tear his eyes away from Eddie, but now he can’t get himself to look at him. “Hmm?” He adds because Robin is still silent.
She nods, “No, yeah. That would be super fun!” She says, but Steve sees her wheels turning and he desperately wants to stop them for a second because he can tell she’s about to do something. “Oh, but like, I’ve been so busy with, stuff. and Jonathan and Nancy are…you know they’re in love and they do stuff-together i mean, they spend a lot of time together, as a couple. And you know, I think if it takes us a while to find a good time you and Eddie should solo it…i guess it’s not solo if it’s together but, you could be like, alone together, kind of poetic.” She smiles. “Just saying, you know since everyone’s so busy right now, maybe you guys should go ahead.”
Steve looks at Robin with a please oh my god stop look, “Yeah.” is all he can get out.
Eddie smirks and looks between them. “Alright, I’m out of here, kids.”
“Have fun.” Robin calls out as Eddie walks toward the door.
“Always.” Eddie replies, “Later, Harrington.”
Steve can only bring himself to wave. When Eddie leaves, Steve waits about one second, looks around the store, walks over and locks the door.
“We are not closed.” Robin says, “And I don’t think closing the store is good for business.”
“What is going on?” Steve says, feeling like he’s finally cracking. “I-I mean, like all night right? Like I was up all night, and then when I finally did sleep? Guess what? That was all…messed up too. Like, I think there’s something going on.” He turns to Robin, he can tell he looks a little crazy, and his arms are swinging as he talks with his hands, “So I wake up, I go to work, and like… today?”
“I am gonna need some kind of context, or a clue, Steve.” Robin says and then glances at the door. “Oh, duh.” She adds, mostly under her breath.
“No,” Steve shakes his head, wondering if she can see into it. “whatever you’re thinking no, no.” He turns to unlock the door but stops, “That was weird, right?”
“What? You locking the door and saying gibberish?” She asks, walking past him to unlock it herself. “Yeah, a little weird.”
“You know what I’m talking about, Robin.” He says, a little louder than he meant to. “Like that whole thing at the end?” He crosses his arms, “Since when is everyone I know too busy to hang out? I saw you all yesterday!”
“I know, but I thought maybe you and Eddie should spend some more time together, you know? He said he had a great time last night, and I think you did too.”
Steve can’t stop himself, “He said he had a good time?”
“A great time.” Robin repeats with a smirk. “So?”
“I’m not-“ he starts and suddenly his throat is dry, he shakes his head a little. “I’m not-“ He tries again and fails. Robin is waiting, Steve can tell she’s gonna try to let him talk. But he’s not sure if he can. “I don’t-…”
“Shh.” She presses a finger to his lips, “you have been a crazy man today, Steve.” She walks back to the counter and sits on top of it. “Look, if you wanna talk about whatever is going on, I am here to listen, and if you want to never speak of it, well, i’ll just talk enough for both of us, yeah?”
He nods. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on.” He leans on the counter next to her. “I just, I guess like…” he trails off, and looks at her, “I don’t wanna talk.” He admits, and even he can hear how pathetic he sounds right now.
“Good, my turn.” She smiles and Steve hopes she knows how thankful he is.
He goes about the next two days as well as he can, no one has noticed that he’s been avoiding pretty much everything yet. He goes to work, he does what he needs to and he goes home. And for two days that worked, but Dustin called and asked if he wanted to go do something so Steve picked him up, and they went out for lunch and hung around Hawkins, killing time in the few stores that had rebuilt already. It was nice, and Steve felt more relaxed than he had in days.
Until on the drive to drop Dustin back off at home, Dustin suddenly says “Shit, I forgot, could you drop me off at Eddie’s?”
The request takes Steve by surprise for no reason, he does this all the time. It’s a normal thing, why would Steve care? He doesn’t. Sure, he’s been avoiding Eddie like the plague for reasons that aren’t entirely even clear to himself but this is fine. It’s fine. “Eddie’s?”
“Yeah, I almost forgot, I got a few new comics that he and I were talking about so-“
“Yeah, no, I mean, yeah I can take you to Eddie’s.” Steve nods and thinks he manages to sound mostly normal, “like his place?”
“Yes.” Dustin answers slowly. “Did you hit your head? You’ve been so weird.”
“You’re weird.” Steve retorts but there’s nothing in his voice to back it up. “I haven’t been weird.”
“You’ve been weird, even weirder than usual.”
Steve scoffs, and they ride in silence for a minute. He doesn’t want to go to Eddie’s, he knows it’ll be fast, he’s just dropping Dustin off. But if he sees Eddie, he’s going to think about Eddie, and he’s going to think about Eddie’s date and then he’s gonna only think about all of that for the rest of the night. But now he’s already thinking it, and he can’t stop. They’re nearly there when Steve blurts out “Does Eddie have a girlfriend?”
Dustin looks a little surprised, “I don’t think so.” He says. “Eddie doesn’t really talk about girls.”
Steve nods. “Right, I was just wondering cause like, if he doesn’t…maybe I’ll set him up with someone, you know?” He hopes the lie at least makes sense, but judging by the look on Dustin’s face it doesn’t. “Like I-I figured, since we’re friends now and-“
“You’re friends?” Dustin asks, looking suspicious.
“Yeah,” Steve says, glancing over at Dustin, “is that cool?”
Dustin smiles and nods, “It’s very cool. I told you that you’d like him.”
Steve sighs, “You were right, okay?” He looks over at Dustin and things feel like they make sense again, for the first time in weeks, in months. Maybe years? “I do like him.” Steve says, but when he says it out loud it all kind of just hits him.
He does like him. He likes Eddie. He likes Eddie. He likes Eddie? All those feelings come flooding in, he starts to panic but this is not the time. Not only is Dustin smiling next to him in the passenger seat, but he’s also literally pulling into Eddie’s. His hands are shaking and feel a little numb when he stops the car, his ears are ringing and his chest is tight. He hears Dustin in the distance, but quickly realizes he’s still in the car with him.
“Steve?” Dustin says, again and Steve blinks back to reality. His eyes oddly damp, and his face a shade too red. “Steve?”
“Yeah?” He says, not looking away from the steering wheel. “Yeah. Sorry, I just remembered I-“ he stops, shaking his head a little. He smiles at Dustin before pulling him into a hug. “I just remembered that I should never doubt you.”
“Jesus, dude-“ Dustin pushes him off, “seriously, you are so weird.”
Steve laughs. “Have fun, don’t do anything stupid.” He says as Dustin gets out.
Dustin goes to say something but is cut off, no. Not now. “Harrington!”
Steve freezes, mouth open slightly, he looks at Dustin as he runs toward Eddie. Steve sighs, he thinks quickly about just absolutely gunning it. He could be gone in thirty seconds, he doesn’t even have to stop driving. He can just leave, run away, never talk to anyone again, change his name, start a new life- he opens the car door and takes a breath, when get gets out he feels like his legs are jello, and he stumbles a little before leaning on his car. “H-hey, uh I-“ He stops, seeing Eddie is too much right now. Steve likes him. He’s trying so hard to act normal, how does he act normal? He likes Eddie.
“You got a while? We’re gonna read comics and hang, you’re invited.” Eddie says, and it’s so casual. Steve doesn’t feel casual.
“No, no, I would, but I-I’m going to Robin’s so-“ he absolutely had no plans with Robin, but he decided before he even got out of the car that he was definitely going to her house as soon as he left here, he’s not even sure if she’s home. He doesn’t care, he’ll wait. “thanks though.” He attempts a smile, but he worries he looks more pained.
“Cool, maybe next time.” Eddie waves, Steve nods and goes to get back in the car, “Oh,” Eddie stops, and looks back at Steve. “The flick? It was good, Harrington. Movie night soon, yeah?”
Steve feels like he could scream, this is a lot for him to take at once. But when he actually goes to reply, his voice gets stuck in his throat and he can just sort of nod like an idiot for a second before choking out a quick “Yeah, yeah, absolutely.” He clears his throat, “Sounds good.”
Eddie smiles, and it’s so bright and warm and intoxicating. “It’s a date.”
Steve’s breath catches and he isn’t sure what the right response is. He is freaking out, he needs to get to Robin’s. He barely chokes out “I-uh, Robin-“ before he just decides he’s had enough, waves again, gets in his car and heads out.
The whole way to Robin’s, Steve keeps replaying the other night at Eddie’s in his head, but his whole perspective has changed. He has the questions now, he has names for these feelings, he has words for these thoughts.
He likes Eddie. But, Steve likes girls. How can that happen? Can he like both? Can he just like, make an exception?
He keeps trying to tell himself that maybe he’s losing it, and he’s making this up in his head. He thinks maybe he’s just confused, or sick, or tired, or something. Because he can’t like Eddie, right?
But then he thinks of the other night, and how maybe when Eddie’s hand brushed his, it wasn’t an accident. He thinks about how he couldn’t stop staring at Eddie because he didn’t want to, he wants to stare at him. He wants to look at his hair, and his eyes, and his body. He really wants to look at his body. Steve tries to hit the brakes on that thought, but can’t stop it. He wants to touch Eddie, he wants to feel his hair, he knows it’s soft. He wants Eddie’s hand to brush against his again, he wants it to stay there. He wants more.
He gets to Robin’s and wastes no time, barely remembering to shut the car door behind him before he darts to Robin’s front door. He knocks and things finally work out for once, she’s home and she answers. “Steve?” Her smile fades quickly when she looks at him, “Uh, you good? Did you run here?”
“What?” He realizes now that he seems a little out of breath, “No, no. I need to talk to you.”
“Everything okay?” She asks, her brow furrowed, “Is everybody okay?”
“Everyone is good, it’s me-I’m fine, but-“ he sighs and takes a quick look around, “I can’t talk about this here.”
“Lucky for you my parents aren’t home, I’m not supposed to have boys in my room.”
Steve chuckles a little as he goes inside and follows her to her room. Once they’re in Steve realizes he doesn’t even know where to start. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know if he should say anything.
What if he’s crazy and this is just like, something that’ll go away in a few days? What if this is all made up in his head and he doesn’t actually feel these feelings.
But it felt real, it felt real when they were sitting in Eddie’s room laughing together, it felt real when they were laying on his floor listening to records, it felt real when Eddie smiled at him. Steve tries his best to tell himself maybe it’s not real. But it is. He knows it is. He’s just stuck in this loop of uncertainty and he doesn’t know how to get out. He knows talking to Robin will help, that’s why he came over. He needs to say something, but where does he even begin? He isn’t sure where any of this began. One day he barely knew Eddie, and all of a sudden, they’re friends and Steve likes him?
Robin sits on her bed and looks up at him, Steve starts fidgeting with his hands and isn’t sure if he wants to sit or not. He feels restless. “So what’s going on?” Robin asks, calmly. “This isn’t like a spooky monster or government secret thing, right?”
“No,” Steve waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing like that, it’s…it’s personal.” Steve starts pacing just a little. “Like I’m physically fine but my brain is-“
“I mean everyone knows you’ve been acting weird this week.” Robin says, bluntly. Steve gives her a quick look of annoyance before she continues. “What’s going on? Is it like, girl troubles?” Robin raises her eyebrows.
“Robin,” He groans, -he knows he can tell her. Why can’t he tell her? He doesn’t think he has the guts to say this out loud. “Not exactly.” He says it slow, looking at her nervously.
“It’s not about Nancy, is it?” She asks, sitting up a little straighter. Steve can tell she’s fighting a smirk, she’s doing a good job of it but Steve can still tell.
“Oh my god.” Steve mutters. “Absolutely not, no. I told you, that’s over.” He runs a hand through his hair, “It’s not Nancy.”
Robin just stares at him for a second, waiting. Steve just holds her stare and she gives in, “Okay! So, what?” She throws her hands up a little, “This is about whatever has been making you crazy, right?”
Steve nods, and makes a noncommittal noise.
“So what is it, Harrington?”
Steve takes a breath and turns to fully face Robin again, “Look, whatever I say next stays between us, right? Like, no one else can know.”
Robin leans forward a little, “Of course, come on. We both have secrets.” She reminds him and it makes him feel better for a minute.
He drags a hand across his face and starts, “I-“ he stops, not sure what to say, not sure if he should even say anything, not sure if he should tell Robin everything, tell her that he’s having a breakdown because he thinks he likes boys, but he knows he likes girls, and that even if that wasn’t an issue, Eddie? Why Eddie? And can he even tell Robin that? Would that make all the times they hang out weird? But, he can’t bring himself to care as much as maybe he should. He knows he wants to tell her, he just doesn’t know how. He puts his hands on his hips, thinking it over for a second. He still has to say something, “Okay, look so, I like-“ he stops again, trying to choose his words carefully, “someone.” he finally says.
“Yeah?” She smiles, before gasping a little. “Love sick!” she says, pointing at him for a second. “That’s what was going on the other day, Steve.”
He rolls his eyes, “No, it’s not like-“ he scoffs, “I just, you know, I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, who is she?”
Steve feels his heart drop a little, this is the part he isn’t sure he can admit. Not only to Robin, but just out loud. He thinks about just making up a girls name and forgetting all of this.
But he can’t, because his brain has been caught on a loop of the past week. Eddie’s house, the video store, Eddie having a date, feelings having no names, he thinks of the heavy metal that was playing in the background and how he could barely hear it over his own heart pounding in his ears. He can’t fight it, he’s tried. He’s powerless.
“Robin,” He starts, weakly, leaning against her wall. His heart is beating fast again, and he can hardly bring himself to look at her, his eyes are wet now and he doesn’t know why. “This isn’t about a girl.” He admits, and he hopes she gets it.
She blinks at him a couple times and he can see that she’s thinking her next few words over carefully, something she actually does well for occasions like this. “Okay,” She nods, slowly, looking at Steve like he might break if she moves too quick. He doesn’t like it, but he can tell she’s just trying to keep him calm for this. “You like someone.” She starts, and looks up at Steve.
He nods and doesn’t say anything because he knows he can’t right now, he does not want to cry about this.
“And it’s not a girl?”
Steve swallows and shakes his head, “Nope.” He finally chokes out. “I, uh, I like…” He looks at Robin, he tries to stop himself, but he can’t. He knows this could mess everything up, but he feels like maybe he should tell her everything. It felt good to tell her part of it. Mostly, he just doesn’t want to be alone with these thoughts anymore. He sighs, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. “I’ve been losing my mind, Robin.” He admits, his voice low. He feels himself losing the fight he’s been having in his own head, if he doesn’t get this over with he’s going to explode. He can trust Robin, he reminds himself before taking a breath and starting again. “The other night, I couldn’t sleep, I was up nearly the whole night thinking about him, right? And then I-I finally fall asleep and I fucking dream about him, I kept thinking about everything, I kept going over the whole night, you know? We talked, we listened to music, but the whole time I could barely pay attention to anything, I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted be around him. And then, like, he says stuff that I know is a joke, but god, it still just…” He trails off and checks to see if Robin’s going to say anything, he’s sure she’s probably dying to ask questions or say something.
But Robin is just watching him, with somewhat concerned eyes, and just waiting for him to finish. She gives a small nod encouragingly when she notices him looking at her.
Steve looks away and sighs, “Robin, I like him.” His voice breaks again, just slightly. “I like him so much.”
“I know,” She says, nodding. “And that’s okay!”
Steve scoffs. “I can’t like him.”
“Why not?” Robin throws her hands up, “You can so like him.”
“I can’t like him.” He repeats, shaking his head. “For starters, I still like girls so-“
Robin gives him a puzzled look, “Steve,” she laughs softly, “You can like girls and like guys too!”
Steve just looked at her. “Are you serious?” He asks, sitting up away from the wall a little.
Robin looks at him for a second, smiling. “Yeah, Harrington. You can like whoever, you don’t have to pick guys or girls.”
“Shit.” He says, blinking and resting his head against the wall. “I thought I was like…the only one.”
Robin rolls her eyes, “Sorry, you’re not special.” She smiles, “You’re just bisexual.”
“Oh, huh.” Steve looks down, he lets it soak in for a second. This whole time he thought this was something wrong with him but it has a name. He can just like whoever he likes. He chuckles a bit, feeling a little embarrassed for freaking out about it. “Learned something new, I guess.”
“It’s not like you could have known. Look around this town, not a lot of people like us.” She says shrugging. “But welcome aboard, glad to have you. “
“Yeah, thanks.” Steve rolls his eyes. “That solves that but like, what do I do?”
“Well, technically you still haven’t told me who this is.” Robin says, grinning.
Steve glares at her for a second, “Robin, don’t make me say it.” He whines a little.
“How can I help if I don’t know who it is?”
Steve closes his eyes and presses his palms to his face for a second. “Robin, oh my god.”
She tries to hide laughter, but isn’t very successful. “it could be anybody!”
“Fine, fine!” Steve throws his hands up in defeat and looks at her, she is absolutely radiating excitement and he hates how endearing it is. “Eddie.” He says, but as quietly as possible. It still feels awkward to say out loud.
“Hmm?” Robin puts her hand to her ear, “I didn’t catch that?”
“Eddie!” Steve shouts a little, tossing his head back in defeat. “I like Eddie.” He admits and another weight floats off of him. “I really fucking like Eddie.” And now he feels like he kind of wants to keep saying it, it’s therapeutic after days of bottling things up and keeping secrets from himself.
Robin sits up on her knees, “I knew it! I knew it! I-I’ve known it for months!” She says excitedly.
Steve sits up straighter, “I’ve only known for like, an hour. How could you have known for months?”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes, “It’s so obvious you guys like each other, all you do is stare and flirt. It’s pathetic!”
Steve’s whole body feels hot, he feels sick, but he feels almost hopeful. “He-no. You’re so wrong, there’s no way-“ he shakes his head. “You’re crazy, he doesn’t- he likes girls.”
“Steve, you like girls.”
Steve’s eyebrows go up and he nods a little, “That’s fair.”
“And how do you know? How do you know he doesn’t like you?”
“Why would he like me?” Steve shrugs, “Like we have almost nothing in common, you know?”
“So? He liked hanging out with you. If you guys are so incompatible, why would he want to hang out with you? Alone?”
Steve sighs, “There’s no way.” He says again, seriously. “And we don’t-we don’t stare at each other.”
“Yes, you do! All the time! Just like, get a room, oh my god. It’s disgusting.”
Steve laughs and for the first time he can breathe. He feels okay. He thinks maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe he can just navigate this crush and somehow keep things together. But eventually he realizes he can’t just stay here in Robin’s room forever, and sooner or later he’s going to see Eddie again, they’re going to hang out and Steve is going to have to pretend that he isn’t hopelessly obsessed with him.
He and Robin talk for a while, and things start to settle for the night. It feels weird to just keep going through life after this. He’s supposed to just go home and go to bed after it feels like his whole world has flipped? He realizes he’s fucking head over heels for someone and he’s supposed to just act like he’s not?
It’s quiet for a minute and he and Robin are sitting across from each other on the bed, both lost in thought. He glances at her, “What do I do now?”
She looks like she thinks it over for a minute, before taking a breath, “You could go to his house, tell him how you feel and make out the rest of the night.” She looks at him and gives a small shrug, “That’s an option.”
Steve’s breathing gets a little shaky, that was definitely not something he’d considered. He tries to stop thinking about it, but he wants to. He shakes his head, “No, that’s not happening. I’m not gonna tell him.”
“Well maybe see if he wants to hang out, then you could kind of get a feel for things. Maybe you’ll see that he does like you and you can just see what happens.” She suggests and Steve doesn’t hate this idea.
He thinks it over, another night alone with Eddie, another night where Steve would get his full attention, another night where Steve could lay way too close next to him, a night where Eddie might let his fingers linger against Steve’s again. Steve nearly feels lightheaded just thinking about it. “Maybe.”
“Hey, he was just talking about a movie night, right?”
Steve’s eyes snap shut and he puts his head in his hands, “Oh my god.”
“Okay, so maybe not-“
“No, yeah. He just…when i dropped Dustin off he actually asked about that.” He looks at Robin a little nervously, he can feel his face going red. “I said sure, he said it’s a date, and I just-“ Steve makes a motion with his hand, “got the hell outta there, I came straight here.”
“Oh.” Robin says, “Even better, sounds like you already have plans!” Steve worries her face is going to get stuck with this excited smile she has.
“I don’t want to,” Steve sighs, nerves building already just thinking about it. “but yeah, i’ll try, okay?”
“That’s the spirit!”
The next few days, Steve tries his best to be cool. He’s not freaking out like he was, he knows better now. He knows more now. That doesn’t mean he feels quite like himself still. He’s still overthinking and over tired, the last few nights unfortunately have become dedicated to Steve just thinking about Eddie and all the different ways this could go, he’s played out every scenario. He doesn’t know what to expect, but he wants to be prepared for anything.
And yet, he finds himself very unprepared for Eddie’s voice coming through the line when Steve absentmindedly answers his phone while going through the mail. But the increasingly familiar “Harrington!” chimes in Steve’s ear and he drops the stack of envelopes he was holding.
Steve fumbles through the whole phone call, but keeps it together just enough to get by with using the mess he made as an excuse. He knows Eddie called for something, but he’s just kind of been rambling for five minutes and Steve starts to wonder if he might be a little nervous too. He also realizes that he has never given Eddie his phone number, he smiles a little to himself when he thinks that Eddie would have had to ask someone to give him Steve’s number, so he kind of went out of his way to call him.
“Anyway,” Eddie says, slowing down. “Look, you coming over tonight or what?”
Steve’s body does that tingly thing again, and his face is burning. He tries to respond but his words are stuck. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, okay.” is all he mages to get out. It wouldn’t have mattered if he tried, he can’t tell Eddie no.
He hears Eddie laugh softly, and it’s basically the last thing he hears because he’s got a thousand thoughts running through his mind and he’s trying to sort through them. When he hangs up, he immediately calls Robin.
He does a double check to make sure he’s still home alone before she answers, “Hello?”
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks, quickly, skipping the greetings. He doesn’t really mean too, but his brain is moving too fast.
“Hello, Steve.” She says, huffing into the phone slightly. “I’m picking up a shift at the store tonight, why?”
“Okay, okay so no one else is going to Eddie’s?”
“No, everyone’s busy.” Steve can hear her smile through the phone, he knows she feels so smug.
He sighs, “Great.”
“You’ll be fine! You’ll have fun!” She reassures him, “Just relax.”
Steve tries to take that advice but he spends the rest of the afternoon doing anything but relaxing.
The last few days have dragged on so slowly, but today flies by, and he hates it. It’s all a blur of nerves, he spent 30 minutes just looking at the clothes in his closet. He didn’t even know why, but he just went back and forth between three different shirts before he realized he was taking forever and felt stupid for caring this much. After he gets dressed, he thinks that maybe he has done this before, once or twice before he’s gone to hang out with Eddie. He knows he changed twice before he went the other day, he couldn’t figure out why then, he figured he was just having an off day and brushed it aside. He feels like an idiot now.
He can barely drag himself to his car when it’s time to leave, he wants to go, but he also wants to just disappear. He’s unbearably nervous, and he circles the block once before he feels like he has enough courage to finally head in the right direction.
When Steve gets to Eddie’s door he pauses, he suddenly thinks about every scenario he played out last night. He thinks about the different outcomes, he weighs the pros and cons of knocking.
But before he can, the door swings open, “Harrington!” Eddie smiles before pulling Steve in gently by the wrist.
Steve feels like he would probably follow Eddie anywhere if he kept his hand wrapped close by his. “H-hey!” Steve wishes he was better at acting normal by now.
“Okay, you made it, so-“ Eddie let’s go of Steve’s arm and claps his hands together. He starts talking, going on about his ideas for the night, and Steve is listening but it’s difficult.
He’s trying so hard to think everything through, he doesn’t want to make a wrong move. He doesn’t want to be obvious, and he’s so worried he’s going to slip up and just say something fucking stupid.
Because every time he tried to play out all those different versions of tonight, he kept saying something stupid. He just doesn’t know how to not say something stupid.
After they settle in with some beers and a movie, it gets increasingly harder for Steve to focus on, well anything.
He’s basically missed the entire first half of this movie, instead he keeps taking too long and too frequent glances over to Eddie, who is sitting just a little too close to him, which is a major factor in Steve’s lack of focus. He keeps forgetting to focus on not slipping up, too. Once he and Eddie start talking, he can’t help himself. It’s just so easy that he forgets it’s supposed to be difficult.
When they’re talking, or even when they’re just in a comfortable silence, Steve forgets that Eddie doesn’t know, he forgets that Eddie doesn’t like him, he forgets that he’s worried about any of it. He’s just focused on Eddie, and that’s all that really matters.
Steve starts to realize that maybe the beer hasn’t helped him act normal, and that maybe that wasn’t his smartest move. But, he thinks he’s doing okay. Yeah, he’s still risking far too many glances Eddie’s way for it to not be weird, but he doesn’t think he’s been super obvious about it.
And yes, this time he’s staring again and he’s telling himself to stop, but somehow he just ends up resting his head on his hand and completely losing thought.
He doesn’t know why he thinks he’d get away this this, he hadn’t before. And just like last time, he gets caught. “You better stop looking at me like that, Harrington.” Eddie says, slow and quiet. He turns his head to face Steve. “You’re gonna give me ideas.”
Steve’s mouth goes dry and his heart is pounding in his ears, he thinks of a hundred lame excuses at once but can only manage a “hmm?”, hoping playing dumb would just work out for him.
Eddie rolls his eyes, “What’s on your mind? You’ve been looking at me for like five minutes.” he sits back and rests his own arm on the back of the couch, his body facing Steve’s. “I’m all ears, Harrington.”
Steve tries to blow out a laugh to seem casual, but feels like maybe it just makes him look more suspicious, “I-I haven’t been-“
“Steve,” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Come on.”
Steve can’t help the small smile that spreads across his face, even though he feels absolutely crazy. He tries to think carefully and quickly about what to say, thinking about all the stupid stuff he wants to say and making sure none of that leave his lips. “I was just…I guess I-“ he sighs and looks at Eddie, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of Steve this whole time. He’s listening, whatever Steve says he’s going to listen and Steve doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. “I was just thinking, about something Robin said the other day.” He lies, thankful for his brain taking over for his heart.
“Yeah?” Eddie quirks a brow, “wanna share?”
“She said she thinks we should spend more time together,” Steve says, watching Eddie’s reaction for something he isn’t quite sure of. “I guess she thinks we make good friends.” Steve shrugs and keeps waiting for a reaction, even though he isn’t sure what he’s expecting. He’s unsure that he’s selling this, he wonders if Eddie knows he’s not saying everything. “I think she’s right.” He adds slowly before looking back at the tv, but only for a second before he feels Eddie’s fingers lightly press against his cheek and turn his face back to his.
Steve feels dizzy, drunk, he feels like he’s floating and he hopes that maybe out of all the outcomes he’s prepared for, he’d get a good one.
“You know what I think?” Eddie asks, and his voice is quiet and low, it makes Steve feel weak.
“Huh?” Steve says, and he can hear how dumb he sounds, his brain is just totally off. All he can see are brown eyes looking into his, all he can hear is his own heart pounding and all he can feel is Eddie’s fingers still resting on his face.
Eddie smiles, “I think…” he lets his fingers trail down Steve’s chin and neck, it’s quick but Steve can feel his heat lingering for longer than he knows is possible. Eddie sighs and glances at the screen, then back to Steve. “I think you should come over more.”
Steve nods slowly, closing his mouth, and trying to come back to life. He can’t get his mouth to form words, he just takes a swig of his beer and looks back at the tv. He’s trying to ignore the fact that now Eddie’s the one staring, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about it. Why is he staring? He glances over and accidentally makes eye contact. “What?” He laughs a little, in the back of his head he notes again that the beer is definitely not helping.
“Oh, so you can stare at me all night but it’s weird if I do it?”
“I was not staring.” Steve lies, knowing there’s almost no chance that Eddie would believe him.
“You know I have eyes right?” Eddie asks, “And i use them? And I use them to catch you staring at me.”
“Oh, will you shut up, Munson? So I looked at you?” Steve rolls his eyes, his argument half hearted, he’s loosening up and it feels good. He’s fighting to not say or do anything dumb, and he worries he’s going to lose. “What are you going to do about it? hmm?”
Eddie smirks at Steve, and Steve immediately realizes what he sets himself up for. He only realizes now that he might have done it on purpose. “I have a few ideas.” Eddie says after a second that feels like forever.
Steve’s brain checked out about ten minutes ago, he’s scrambling to think of anything to say, something that he can get out of this with. He settles for rolling his eyes and just pretending to watch the movie. After a minute, he feels Eddie move just a little closer, he uses up all of his focus to just keep his eyes on the tv.
“You know what’s weird?” Eddie says, breaking the silence that Steve desperately wanted. He can’t say something he shouldn’t if they’re not talking.
“Do you ever stop talking?” Steve asks, rolling his head to look at Eddie, happy to have a reason for once. He tries to sound annoyed but the smile on his lips betrays him.
“I thought all the Vecna, Upside Down, horror movie come to life stuff was going to be the weirdest experience of my life,” He says, and Steve is all of the sudden very aware of just how much closer Eddie got. “but this? You and me, hanging out, being…friends? This is definitely weirder.”
Steve laughs softly, “No, you’re right. It’s kind of weird.”
“It’s weird,” Eddie repeats, looking at Steve for a second before he takes a breath. “But, I like it.”
Steve’s heart races, and he can’t stop his eyes from darting to Eddie’s lips for just a fraction of a second. He nods, “I like it too.”
Eddie doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve, “Good,” He smiles, “You’re stuck with me now, Harrington.” He says, going back to the movie.
Steve takes the opportunity to internally panic, both of them sitting just a little too close to each other facing the screen. Steve reaches for his beer and starts going through what the fuck just happened. He isn’t sure if he’s reading too into things, or if he’s just seeing what he wants to. But he’s starting to think maybe Robin’s right, maybe Eddie -maybe- has some similar feelings. He can’t stop himself from testing the waters a little, hoping to not be as obvious as he feels. “So, y-you liked the uhm, other movie?” He stumbles out, looking ahead, a little afraid that if he looks at Eddie, he’ll give himself away.
“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “yeah, it was good.”
Steve decides he’s gotten this far and chances testing the water, “How’d the date go?”
“What?” Eddie looks at him, “Oh, yeah,” he laughs quietly. “It didn’t.”
Steve can’t stop himself from looking over, “It didn’t?”
Eddie watches him for a second, and Steve can tell he’s thinking something over. He’d give anything to know what. “Yeah, but it was for the best.” Eddie shrugs, “Wasn’t really what I want now anyway.”
Steve nods, “Well, she’s missing out.”
Eddie hums an agreement and goes back to looking at the screen.
Steve sits and tries to not get his hopes up for five minutes straight, and that’s when he feels Eddie’s fingers lightly brush against his own.
Steve instantly looks over at Eddie, who is focused completely on the screen in front of them. Steve blinks and looks back at the tv too. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t even know what to think. The only thing he knows right now is that he’s about to do something stupid.
He brushes his fingers against Eddie’s this time, slow and a little shaky. This time he ignores the other when he looks his way. Instead, Steve can’t even help himself and he does it again, this time letting his fingers go up to Eddie’s wrist, tracing against the edge of his bracelet.
They both go quiet and still for a second, and Steve starts to panic. Why did he do that? But why did Eddie start it? His face is burning and his hands feel empty and cold.
The panic subsides quickly when he feels Eddie’s fingers graze against the top of his hand. He smiles, and looks over at Eddie.
This time Eddie looks back, his head resting on the back of the couch, “What?” He asks, innocently as if nothing is going on.
Steve can feel the heat coming from Eddie, they’re so close and all he wants to do is fill the space that separates them. He looks at Eddie for a minute, he swears he hears those records from the other night playing somewhere in the back of his mind, or maybe it’s real he can’t tell. Nothing really feels real.
Steve’s starting to get exhausted, he’s not good at this. He’s not good at hiding feelings, he’s not good at lying, he’s not good at pretending. He thinks if he doesn’t leave right now he’s going to lose.
“I might do something stupid.” He says without thinking, reason and sense left him the second Eddie touched his hand.
“I don’t doubt that.” Eddie quips, smiling softly. He waits for a second to see if Steve is going to continue, and Steve notices. But he can’t bring himself to move or talk. Luckily Eddie rolls his eyes a little and keeps talking, “If you’re gonna do something stupid, promise to do it with me.” He whispers, Steve can nearly feel his breath on his face.
Steve looks at him, he’s grasping at excuses and subject changes in his mind but he can’t seem to hang on to any long enough to stop himself from thinking about kissing Eddie Munson. As soon as the thought enters his mind it consumes him. He remembers Eddie said something, and he pulls his eyes from Eddie’s mouth to his eyes, unsure of how long they’d been there. “I really-“ he stops himself, unsure of how he’d finish that sentence, the words on his tongue trying to escape. “I uh,-“ He tries to turn away from him, he tries to pretend things aren’t as intense as they feel. He tries, but he can’t and he’s right back to looking at Eddie, right back to trying to figure out what to do, how to tell him without saying it, how to make this less awkward. His thoughts are interrupted, and he’s almost thankful.
“Steve,” Eddie says, quietly with a new air of seriousness to his tone that Steve isn’t expecting. “Whatever it is that you want to tell me…” he trails off, and without any plan they both move a little closer, Eddie doesn’t look away from Steve this time when he moves his fingers against his. “I’m waiting.” he finally says, and doesn’t move away.
Steve can’t take anymore, he feels like he’s not dreaming for the first time. He feels like this is real, he didn’t make this up, it’s not in his head. He likes Eddie, and he can’t help but think that Eddie likes him too. He feels another soft stroke against his palm and he gives up. He takes Eddie’s hand, finally threading their fingers together. “Yeah, well-“ he starts, he looks from their hands, back to Eddie, he can barely catch his breath as he leans in, stalling for another moment to be absolutely sure he’s not dreaming, but then Eddie leans in slowly and he stops caring about any of the things he was worried about before. “I’m done waiting.” Steve says, before he finally closes the distance between them, slowly. He brings a hand up to thread through Eddie’s hair, and it’s just as soft as he’d imagined. He feels Eddie kiss him back, it nearly knocks him out. Eddie brings up a hand to rest on Steve’s side, and pulls him closer, he can’t stop the small noise he makes.
Out of every scenario he planned, every version of this he rehearsed in his head, nothing compared to how it actually felt. His heart is pounding, his hands are shaking while he runs them over Eddie’s body, he feels like he’s on fire, he’s overwhelmed but in the best way.
Everything gets a little colder though when he and Eddie finally pull apart, he desperately wants to just dive right back in but he takes a second to try to wrap his head around everything. The nerves start to creep back in quickly as he worries if he’s made a mistake. What if he read everything wrong?
He takes a breath, hoping he doesn’t let any of his panic show. He looks away and shudders out a soft laugh. “Sorry, I-“ he stops and looks over at Eddie, unsure of what to say or do.
But Eddie’s watching him, looking a little unsure himself. “So…” he starts slowly, both of them backing away a little. “Do we…talk about it or-“
“I like you.” Steve says, surprising even himself. He didn’t mean to say it, he didn’t plan on ever telling Eddie Munson that he liked him. He doesn’t know why he can’t stop, he couldn’t stop himself from touching Eddie, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing him, and now he’s just telling him this and he doesn’t know how to stop. He blames the alcohol but knows it’s not that. The words have been threatening to leave his lips since he realized they were there.
Eddie raises his eyebrows, giving Steve a second. “Yeah?” he grins, just kinda beaming at Steve expectantly, and patiently.
Steve sighs, realizing there’s nothing he can do now. He’s done everything he promised himself he wouldn’t, and now he’s just going to have to follow through with it and hope for the best. “Yeah,” he rolls his eyes a little when he notices the smug expression on Eddie’s face. “I can’t believe it, but yes, Munson. I like you.”
“See, I knew you had a crush on me.” Eddie says, before getting a little closer.
“Oh my god,” Steve groans a little, “don’t even start.”
Eddie laughs softly, and relaxes back into the couch again, glancing back at the credits rolling on the screen. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t think I even know what happened in this movie.” He turns to Steve, fidgeting a little with his hands and watching him a second, “It doesn’t matter though, cause I didn’t ask you to come over for a movie. It was just an excuse to see you.” He waits a second before looking head again.
He starts to feel nervous again, but it’s different than before. Fears and uncertainty are now replaced with a need to get this right. It’s been a while since he’s gotten something he’s wanted, he doesn’t wanna ruin it. “You didn’t need an excuse.”
Eddie smiles, he barely glances away from the static on the tv, “This might surprise you, Harrington, but I’m not the best at talking about feelings.” He admits, locking eyes with Steve, “But, I like you too, okay?”
Sure, Steve kind of got that already, but hearing Eddie say it still made his stomach flip. He smiles a little, trying to wrap his head around it. He likes him. Eddie likes Steve.
Steve finally starts to feel better, his world is changing again, but it’s slowing down a little. He feels like even if he doesn’t know what happens next, or what he’s supposed to do or say, he’s going to be alright. He can’t remember the last time he felt like he was going to be alright, so he tries to soak it in while he can. “So…what now?” He asks, smiling a little nervously.
Eddie looks like he’s pretending to think about it, looking up at nothing with a small smile, tapping a finger against his lips, “Well, we could watch another movie.” He suggests, looking at Steve, and something about this look makes Steve feel nervous, but not in a bad way.
Steve takes a breath, he tries to assess the situation, trying to figure out if Eddie is implying what he hopes he is. “We didn’t even watch the last one.” He reminds him.
“Yeah, we aren’t going to watch the next one either, Harrington.” Eddie says, leaning close and pressing his lips to Steve’s, barely giving him time to react before he stands up. “Stay there, I get to pick this time.”
Steve just watches as Eddie runs off to find a movie, he feels completely dumbfounded as he takes this in. He attempts to figure out the exact moment this started, but quickly realizes he doesn’t actually care. It wouldn’t make a difference.
Eddie puts the movie into the VCR and quickly turns back to Steve, walking over to him, “The goal here, by the way, is to see as little of this fuckin’ movie as possible.” He says, before threading this fingers into Steve’s hair and kissing him, pushing him back onto the couch. “Sound good?” Eddie says, after a few seconds, taking a breath and pulling back to look at Steve.
Steve nods quickly, “Sounds great.” he pulls Eddie back down into another kiss, feeling him smile against his lips. He doesn’t care about anything other than this right now, he just wants to get as close to Eddie as he can. And he does, they spend the whole night together tangled up, nothing but the tv and the post lamp outside shining in the dark.
When Steve leaves, he kisses Eddie goodbye, this time he doesn’t feel like he’s forgetting anything, but he still doesn’t want to go, he’s already counting down until he can come back. And when he drives away, he checks his rear view and catches Eddie watching him drive away again and Steve knows he’s going to spend another night awake thinking about Eddie Munson.
He still isn’t sure how this happened, he knows he could sit and think about it forever before it made sense, but it doesn’t have to make sense. It doesn’t matter to him how he got here, he’s just happy that he‘s here now.
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vbecker10 · 25 days
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Loki's Silent Sentry (Part 1)
Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 ( Part 6 in progress)
Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)
Summary: You are not just a soldier in Asgard's Royal Army, you are Lieutenant Y/L/N, Prince Loki's personal guard, his sentry and you are not supposed to fall in love with him. If you followed your training properly, you should never have even spoken to him. As a sentry, you are expected to remain silent and invisible as you shadow your appointed member of the royal family or member of the court protectively throughout their daily tasks.
Rumors (that happen to be true) begin to circulate through the palace that you serve the younger prince of Asgard both outside and inside his chambers. There is little you can do once word of your off duty activities spread through every maid, cook, gardener and seamstress in the palace. You soon find even the soldiers in your own company are now questioning how exactly you had come to earn your seemingly quick rise to lieutenant.
As the annual Winter Solstice Ball approaches, you come to the heartbreaking realization that your relationship with Loki must come to an end if you are both to fulfill your duties.
Warnings: Angst, arguing, Thor being an absolute ass, Odin being a terrible father
A/N: I did some googling quickly for military terms and ranks (since I have no previous knowledge of them) as well as some basic information about the royal guards in England. I took some of what I found interesting and then made up most of the rest to fit what I needed for my story so there will be some similarities. Also... I haven't written anything in like a year (maybe longer) so be nice please 💚💚
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You stand at constant attention in silence outside of Prince Loki's private office. You listen to the birds singing through the open window across the hall from where you are posted and wonder how long you could go without making a sound. You have been trained by the Royal Army for years to remain silent, vigilant, always listening and watching your surroundings for anything dangerous or out of the ordinary. You are always on guard, ready to protect Prince Loki should the need arise. Not that someone with his fighting skills or magic would need protection from a simple soldier like you. You were assigned this post purely because it was customary for each member of the royal family to have a sentry, whether they actually need one or not.
Your attention is drawn to the sound of footsteps approaching from your left. You are unable to determine how many people are coming but judging by their pace and heavy boots, they are most likely all soldiers. Commandant Thorn, the soldier in charge of your company, makes his way down the hall at a steady pace. He is followed by your captain, Captain Skye who is holding a leather bound book containing the names of all the sentries and their current posts. Trailing the two older men, are four low ranking soldiers you can't remember the names of.
The group of soldiers comes to a stop in front of you and your fellow guard and you both salute your commanding officers. "Lieutenant Y/L/N," Captain Skye says, opening his book for a moment. He closes it and looks up at you, "Prince Loki will of course be attending the Winter Solstice Ball. You will be required to escort him to the ballroom and remain on guard there until he dismisses you for the evening."
You nod in response, carefully hiding the heavy emotions you have surrounding the upcoming ball. The soldiers move on and you are left alone with the other guard again. She says nothing to you and even if you were allowed to speak, you know Sergeant Sands wouldn't talk to you. She is not your friend, none of the members of the Royal Guard are your friends. It wasn't always this way though, it is only since you were promoted to the rank of lieutenant that the guards you work with began to distance themselves from you.
You had been assigned to Prince Loki for three months when you were promoted from sergeant to lieutenant. Your fellow soldiers immediately assumed the young prince had a hand in it as he did little to hide how he favored you over the other guards who were previously assigned to him. The rumors about you spending the night in Loki's chamber instead of guarding it flowed through the palace soon after. You adamantly denied these rumors and any favoritism from the prince but it was a wasted effort. It also happened that the rumors were true to a point.
The door to Loki's office opens and you stand at attention as the court accountant exits, holding several rolls of paper and mumbling to himself. Sargeant Sands follows him without any orders needed, she is his sentry and will go where he goes. As she walks past by, she glances at you with what can only be described as a look of disgust. You look down at your boots, fully aware of what she is thinking.
You wait quietly for Loki to open the door again but you know him, he will want to read through all of his notes from today before he finalizes his meeting schedule for tomorrow. You have roughly half an hour until he will be done, half an hour to stand here and think about the dreaded Winter Solstice Ball.
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Another half an hour later, as expected, Loki opens the door and walks out. Waving his hand towards the door, he uses his magic to seal the room. He smiles warmly at you and you smile back at him for the first time today. This was your favorite part, the part where the sun goes down and Loki frees you from your constant silence.
He touches your cheek softly and leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back but pull away quickly as you hear footsteps approaching. You step away from Loki and stand at attention as Prince Thor comes around a corner. You keep your eyes straight ahead but you can feel Loki stiffening next to you, he and his brother get along much better when they are at court than they do in private.
The brothers greet each other politely and you silently wish the older prince would simply continue on his way but it doesn't seem likely. Your attention shifts to the window across the hall from you again, you can just barely glimpse the sunset over the tall evergreen trees in the distance. You know Loki will tell you if he and Thor discuss anything interesting so there is no need for you to listen to their conversation. The two of them continue for several long minutes before you realize Thor has said something to you.
"Lieutenant Y/L/N?" Thor says and you shake your head as you shift your focus.
"I'm sorry your highness, I was unaware you were speaking to me," you apologize. He had never spoken to you before and you were unsure why he would start now. Loki folds his arms across his chest and you feel uneasy at how annoyed he seems.
Thor laughs which does nothing to make you feel better. "I was wondering what it was about you that made you my brother's favorite," he says. "You must truly be special, a sentry's post typically only lasts three months, perhaps six at the most. You have been with Loki for how long now?"
You think for a moment before replying. You had been assigned to Loki for only a month before he first spoke to you and you had quickly become close friends. Three months after becoming friends with the prince, you slowly became more until you were completely in love with him.
"Fourteen months," you answer him in as few words as possible.
Thor looks at his younger brother with a smirk, "Fourteen?" Loki remains silent and you can tell his older brother is not even close to letting you leave soon. He turns his attention to you again, "So is it true then?"
"Is what true your highness?" you ask quietly.
"That you follow my brother's orders when you are wearing your armor and when you are not?" he laughs and his sentry smiles then looks towards the ground. "I could use a sentry like that, I grow tired of being followed by these shadows."
Loki's fist clenches but he answers Thor calmly. "Maybe if you learned your sentries name and weren't so insufferable to be around, they would remain at your service for longer than a month at a time," Loki says. "And you are the last person I would expect to listen to palace rumors. According to the most recent ones I've heard, you've slept with nearly half of the kitchen staff this month alone."
Thor smiles, proud of himself. You and Loki realize the stories you had overheard were true, if not understated. He explains, "That is why I assume the rumors of you and your little pet are true as well."
You find yourself in that brief moment wishing Loki would confirm everyone's suspensions. Not necessarily that you were sleeping together, that you were in love and wanted to be together. You know wishing for this is as useful as wishing it would rain gold. Once again you remind yourself that this is the way it will always be, until he marries a woman of high status and you are forgotten.
Instead of responding, Loki turns from his brother and walks down the hall towards the stairwell that leads to the royal family's chambers. You follow him silently, staying a few steps behind as always.
"Come now brother, I was merely joking," Thor calls from behind you but neither of you stop walking.
The two of you continue on in silence until you reach the top of the stairs and Loki's pace slows so he is walking next to you. His hand finds yours, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles. As soon as you feel his touch, you begin to relax.
"I'm sorry about my brother," he says quietly.
"His behavior isn't your fault," you reply. "And he is far from the first person to corner me about our relationship. I am used to denying the truth."
He stops, causing you to turn back towards him, your hand still holding his. He then takes a few small steps, closing the distance between you. Loki touches your cheek gently with his other hand. "I'm sorry Y/N," he tells you again. "I wish we didn't have to hide but you know there are some rules even I cannot break so openly. Maybe I should have hid my favoritism towards you better but I couldn't bear to have you reassigned. You mean too much to me."
You smile, "So I am your favorite sentry?"
He lets out a laugh, "You are my favorite person in the nine realms." You giggle at his answer and his fingers trail down your cheek until his thumb gently runs across your lips. He leans down to kiss you but just as his lips touch yours, you feel your heart jumps in your chest.
You hear several sets of footsteps and separate yourself from Loki in an instant. He looks down the hall as his mother, two of her maids and one guard come into view. She smiles brightly at both of you as she comes closer and you bow to the queen in respect. You find it hard to miss the side eye from her sentry or the whispers shared between her maids. Loki gives his mother a hug and wishes her a goodnight. She tells him to have a goodnight as well and continues on her way.
You and Loki walk off in the opposite direction towards his chambers and once you are alone again, Loki moves to take your hand but you flinch away. He looks hurt by your momentary rejection but he doesn't say anything. He knows how nervous you are about being seen touching him or speaking to him. You round the next corner and are flooded with relief as Loki's door finally comes into view. You fight the urge to smile, holding onto your composure as you've been trained.
Loki opens the door and steps inside, you follow him as you always do and he closes the door. He flicks his wrists towards you without a word and the heavy armor you wear over your clothing instantly settles itself neatly into a large chest. You take a few deep breaths, feeling as if most of the weight you have been carrying leaves you, but not all.
"Thank you your highness," you say out of habit.
"Please, never call me that in here," he reminds you gently. "In here I'm not a prince, I'm just Loki." He walks towards you and you don't realize you are moving away from him until your back hits the door and his body comes flush to yours. One hand settles on your hip while his other hand lifts your chin, causing you to look up at him. He continues, "And you are not Lieutenant Y/L/N, you are Y/N. The woman I am so deeply in love with." He smiles and you can't help but smile back at his words. All your worries vanish the instant his lips meet yours.
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You lay in Loki's arms watching the sunlight fill his room through the sheer curtains. You try to memorize the sound of his slow, steady breathing and the feel of his heart beat against your back as he holds you even in his sleep. You inhale deeply and focus on deciphering every herb and oil Loki uses to keep his hair soft. Closing your eyes, you use your senses to bring an image of Loki's face into your mind and try to hold it there.
"What are you thinking about my love?" he asks in a sleepy voice. You open your eyes and shift closer to him, pulling his arms tighter around your body. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he asks, now much more awake.
You swallow hard, trying to find the words. You had been thinking about what you needed to do most of the night but now that it was time, you weren't sure you would be able to do it.
"I've told you, you can speak freely here," he says softly, urging you gently as always to speak your mind when you were with him. His fingers move slowly up and down your arm as he tries to comfort you without knowing what is causing your distress.
"I need to transfer to a new post," you tell him. You hear him inhale sharply as his fingers suddenly go still.
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You stand outside Loki's office with Thor's new guard and two others in silence waiting for a very long meeting to conclude. You stifle a yawn and shift uncomfortably on your feet before regaining your composure. The tall guard standing across from you rolls his eyes while the woman next to him mumbles something that can only be about you.
It has been two days since you told Loki you wanted to transfer and you hadn't heard anything from your commanding officer. In the meantime, you decided to go back to sleeping in your assigned room at the soldiers quarters. You had forgotten how much you hated it there. The common areas are loud and there is little privacy, everyone is in everyone else's business. You barely leave your room, which is a surprise to no one. They wouldn't speak to you even if you did. You live in a world of utter silence surrounded by never ending noise.
You feel as if you are shattering from the inside out and you try to remind yourself that it needs to be this way. The two of you hid in his chambers as if it protected your relationship but it could never be real. How could it be when he could barely acknowledge your presence when in public. He is a prince and you are a soldier as were your parents, you were not high born. Loki is destined to marry the daughter of a council member and you will guard them and their children.
The door to Loki's office opens, you and the three guards stand at attention. Prince Thor walks out first, followed by two council members. They walk off in different directions, shadowed closely by their sentries but you remain, as always, at Loki's door.
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You stare at the wall in front of you for what feels like eternity. Your mind wanders between your favorite memories from your brief time with Loki and the crushing weight of your current reality. You stand up straighter when you hear the door swing open and Loki steps out.
"Lieutenant Y/L/N," he says, "I need to speak with you."
You nod and follow him into his office, closing the door behind you. You stand motionless, taking in his office and how much it feels like him. The dark wood bookshelves crowded with leather bound books, the chair pulled close to the window so he can see the garden below when drinking his afternoon tea, the green and gold accents on various pieces of furniture.
You sigh to yourself as you follow him to his desk. He takes a seat and you stand across from him with your arms behind your back, waiting for him to speak first.
"Y/N," he says informally but you don't relax. "Your transfer to a new post was not approved."
"Can I ask why your highness?" you keep the formalities as you've been trained.
"The Winter Solstice Ball is in less then a week," he answers as if you could forget. "The Royal Guard seems to be too busy tightening security and preparing for everyone's arrival to complete your paper work at this time."
"Understood, your highness," you say. "I should return to my post." You turn to head back outside of his office.
"Wait," he calls and you freeze just before you reach the door. You hear him get up from his seat and walk around the desk. "Please stay, talk to me Y/N. I miss you so much it hurts."
"I can't," you say almost in a whisper
He touches your arm and you turn to face him, seeing the pain in his eyes. "I miss the way your laughter filled my chambers. I miss hearing you hum to yourself when you think I can't hear you. I miss the sound of your voice and how easy it is to talk to you," he says and you force down a smile and the urge to hold him tightly.
"I can't bear to be without you," he tells you and you want to tell him you can't be apart from him either but you remain silent for fear you'll lose your resolve completely. He strokes your cheek gently and you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "I love you," he says.
"I love you too," you tell him, seeing a spark of hope light his eyes. You shake your head and take a step away from him, "But I can't do this. I'm sorry." Before he can say anything else you tell him, "It will only hurt more the longer we wait to end this."
"We don't have to end this, now or ever," he insists as he steps towards you. "I promise I will find a way for you to be mine, not just when we are hidden away, but always. You believe me, don't you?"
"I want to," you tell him truthfully. Loki had promised several times to find a way to marry you but you thought it was false hope. "But this isn't a fairytale my prince, we don't always get a happy ending."
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You want to disappear into the marble floor, to be sucked into the wall behind you or simply vanish into thin air but you can't. Instead, you must stand perfectly still and silent as you watch the dancing and merriment around you. You momentarily wish you would go back to a time when you didn't feel an ache in your chest at the mere thought of another woman being in Prince Loki's arms. Shaking your head just slightly, you chase away the thought. As much as this hurts, you will always cherish the limited time you shared with him.
The music changes tempo as the first of seven courses comes to an end. Couples begin to take to the open floor in the center of the ballroom. Prince Thor and Prince Loki make their way to the group of single, eligible women awaiting them, each at a different pace. The older prince seems to now exactly which woman he would like to spend time with first. He offers his arm to her and declares her the most beautiful woman at the ball, causing her to blush and giggle. The younger prince takes his time walking to the crowd and simply takes the hand of the closest woman without so much as glancing at her. His lack of interest does little to dampen her excitement however.
The dozen or so women who were not chosen move away from the dance area and you have to hold back a groan as they gather directly in front of you to wait for a chance with one of the princes. You can't help but listen to them discuss which prince they think is better looking or who they would prefer picked them. The first song ends and the two princes each select another dance partner. Again, Prince Thor takes little time deciding who he wants while Prince Loki simply offers his hand to the first woman he sees. You can practically hear him sigh as she holds his arm and walks quickly to the dance floor.
As the second song begins, one of the women briefly looks at you over her shoulder before motioning towards you to her friends. Your ears go red with embarrassment as she tells them the rumors of your past relationship with Loki just loud enough that she knows you will hear. Of course she gets the ending wrong. She assumes, like everyone else, that the prince grew tired of you and banished you from his bed chambers. You had to admit, it seemed a far more likely story than the truth.
You shift your attention to the ceiling for a moment, hoping that counting the candles in the chandeliers will distract you from their stares and comments. You only count to twenty seven before the sound of a glass shattering draws your gaze back to the guests. A council member laughs loudly, clearly drunk already, as a servant cleans the wine glass from the dance floor.
Your eyes scan the room and easily find Loki at the center of the crowd, a third woman in his arms. Your drawn to his face, studying his features. He smiles at the woman as he twirls her and she giggles but she doesn't know him like you do. She doesn't know that's the smile he uses at court, not the smile he shows you. Showed you, you correct yourself. He glances away, not holding eye contact with her as they move effortlessly across the dance floor.
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After the final course is served, the dance floor fills for the last time and you sigh with relief that the night is almost over. You shift on your feet, looking down for a moment when the chatter of the women in front of you begins again. Why must they stand here to wait, you think to yourself.
The princes once again make their way to their potential dance partners and Thor makes his pick quickly. Loki stands in front of the women for a moment and your eyes lock with his as he looks between them.
"Pardon me," he says politely to the crowd as he moves forward, slipping past the confused women. He makes his way towards you and your breath catches in your throat. He stands in front of you and holds out his hand. You look at him, stunned by his actions. He smiles when you don't move, "Will you dance with me, my love?" Still you remain silent, looking past Loki to see how much attention his actions have drawn. "Don't look at them," he says, touching your cheek softly as you look at him again.
You steady your nerves and place your hand in his. The moment his fingers close around yours, you are surrounded by a light cloud of green, shimmery smoke. When Loki's magic fades, you are wearing a flowing emerald green gown with golden trim, perfectly matching his dress uniform. Your hair has been restyled to hold a small gold tiara with short horns, mirroring the helmet he had worn during his entrance.
"Gods, you look gorgeous in my colors," he says with a wide smile, causing you to blush. "To be fair, you are always beautiful but now it is clear to everyone here that you are mine." You feel as if your heart might burst when he calls you his, he had said it before but only when you were hidden away.
Loki keeps his fingers interlaced with yours as he leads you to the dance floor, straight through the group of now very angry women. Some cross their arms, others give you dirty looks and several make rude comments as you pass. You pause before stepping onto the dance floor, the chatter and stares coming from the guests near you holding you back. He senses your hesitation and leans down to place a kiss gently on your cheek.
Your mind can barely begin to process what is happening as he takes you straight to the middle of the dance floor. He places one hand on your hip and you place your hand on his shoulder as you had done so many times over the last few months. You and Loki shared several secret dances in his chambers and his office, he found it difficult to listen to music sitting still.
He holds you close, his eyes never leaving yours while you dance between the other guests. You focus on how amazing it feels to be back in his arms, ignoring the strange looks and whispers that surround you. He twirls you gracefully and you spin back into him, giggling as you final feel at ease. As the song draws to a close, Loki spins you one final time. When he pulls you back to him, he leans down slightly and your lips meet his.
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You smile up at him, hoping this isn't a dream when you see his mother approaching you. You take a step away from Loki but he keeps his hand on your waist, not letting you go too far. You bow to the queen and she says, "I think it is my turn to dance with my son."
You nod quickly in agreement and Loki let's go of you, his magic fading instantly as your armor reappears. You walk through the crowd with your head down and return to your post, once again wishing you were invisible. The women watch you, gossiping wildly as you pass again. You can only imagine what they are saying but they are not your biggest concern at the moment.
Anxiously, you watch Queen Frigga and her son move across the dance floor. You can't hear what they are saying of course, but you can tell by her expression that there will be consequences for his actions. As the song ends you see your captain approach you and your stomach drops. Loki will not be the only one to be punished for choosing you.
"The king had summoned you to the throne room," he says in a stern voice. You nod in acknowledgement and when you look back towards the dance floor, Loki and his mother are gone.
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I'm almost done with the second part so please let me know if you would like to be tagged! I hope you liked it and if you did, please like, share and comment 💚💚
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captainmalewriter · 7 months
Text
Freak Accidents
Seth woke up in an incredibly good mood. Today was the big day and he knew it. He practically jumped out of bed as soon as he heard his phone alarm go off for 7 in the morning. Seth walked to his bedroom door, opened it slightly, and stuck his ear in the crack. He waited for a moment, listening, but as far as he could tell, the house was almost completely silent. The only noise he could just barely make out was the sound of his tío Ronnie sleeping down the hallway. Seth smiled, then closed his door again. Seth then opened the closet and pulled out a leather bound book he had stashed in the back. The book was called the Tonis Maximus. It was in tatters, ready to fall apart at any second, but he made extra sure to keep it safe. 
The Tonis wasn’t like any other old, beaten down book. While it seemed to be nothing special on the outside, it actually held a plethora of magical knowledge on the inside. Seth was able to get hands on it thanks to his job at the city library. The book was just sitting in the library archives along with all the other books nobody's checked out in years. It was dismissed as being just another collection of old myths and folklore. Nobody knew the great power the Tonis contained, nobody except Seth. He was digging around in the archives one day when he stumbled upon the book. Out of pure boredom, he decided to read a page or two out of the Tonis. From the moment he first laid eyes on it, a world full of supernatural phenomena was opened up to Seth. Realizing what kind of power the book contained, Seth decided to smuggle the Tonis out of the library and keep it all for himself. 
Since he first obtained the book several years ago, Seth has been studying up on its magical content. He’s tried his hand at turning objects into gold through alchemy, predict the future through clairvoyance, and he’s even communicated with souls of the dead! Although Seth was very limited in what he could do (casting magic was very draining on the body after all), he was still on his way to becoming a proper witch. And the best part? Nobody except Seth knew about the Tonis!
Seth sat on his bed and he opened the Tonis to a page he had bookmarked. The bookmarked page contained instructions for the latest ritual Seth wanted to master. Body possession. 
Seth read through the directions, then took off his clothes just as the book said to do. He then pulled out his phone and recorded a quick video of himself.
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“Alright, Seth here, I’ll be attempting the body possession spell again. Hopefully the third time’s the charm, but even if it fails again, I’ll just try again until I get it right. I’m staying at my uncle’s place in Mexico for the summer, so I got plenty of time to perfect this spell. Wish me luck!”
Seth finished recording his self-documentary and put away his phone. He paused for a moment to reflect on his previous attempts. The first time he used the spell was when he tried to possess his neighbor back home. While he managed to get inside his body, the bodybuilder had no problem expelling his soul right out through sheer willpower. The second attempt was no better. He used it to possess his old high school principal, but although he got inside his body, he couldn’t move at all! Seth was starting to grow impatient after having back to back failures. He wanted to get it right this time, and with tío Ronnie on standby, he was sure he’ll nail it down in no time!
Seth placed his hand on his doorknob and took a deep breath. He then mentally reviewed the ritual procedure one last time; first, get naked, next, find a vulnerable target, then, recite the incantation, and last, push your way into their body! It was a simple 4 step process, all Seth needed now was more practice in executing it. He hyped himself then stepped out of his bedroom, only to be mortified when he saw his tío Ronnie sitting on his bed. He was still visibly sleepy, but now he had a clear view of Seth in his underwear.
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“Seth?” Ronnie said in a low, groggy voice. “What are you doing up at this hour?”
“I- uhh…” Seth didn’t know what to say. He didn’t prepare for this scenario. His eyes darted around the hallway while he searched for an answer. “I was… I was on my way to the bathroom! Yeah, I just really needed to pee!!” 
“Dude,” Ronnie winced. “No need to yell, I’m right here. That’s cool, but why are you just in your underwear though? You never do that.”
“Uhhh…” Seth was scrambling again. He could hear his heartbeat getting louder with each passing second. He felt as if no matter what he said, Ronnie would be able to see right through him! “I, um, well-”
“You know what, Sobrino, save it.” Ronnie yawned as he threw himself back on his bed. “It’s too early for this. You do you, but just let me sleep a little while longer, okay?” 
“Y-yes! Goodnight Tío!!” 
Seth hurried into the bathroom and forced himself to pee just like he said he would. He sighed a breath of relief, not because he actually needed to go, but because he was so sure he was about to get caught performing magic. Thankfully, Ronnie’s inability to care about anything kicked in and saved the day. But even though Seth got scared shitless almost getting caught, it wasn’t enough to stop him from his mission! All he needed to do was wait a little bit for Ronnie to fall back asleep, then he could try again.
Seth went back inside his bedroom while he waited Ronnie out. Nearly a full hour had passed before Seth decided it was safe enough to try again. He crept into Ronnie's room and surely enough, he was sound asleep. Seth couldn’t help but grin as he watched Ronnie’s chest rise and fall with every snore. He took off his underwear, ready to attempt the body possession spell for the third time. 
He started by reciting the incantation from the Tonis out loud. As soon as he finished reciting the last word, a wave of nausea overtook Seth. Seth was ready for the lightheadedness to hit him like a truck, but no amount of anticipation could prepare him for how sudden it was. He nearly fell over, head throbbing with pain, but Seth was determined to see the spell through to the end. 
Hand pressing against his temple, Seth forced himself to stumble over to Ronnie. He then laid his nude body on top of Ronnie as carefully as he could. Seth was able to get on top of Ronnie without waking him up, and although it wasn’t his first time getting on top of a man or possessing someone’s body, Seth wasn’t prepared for how intimate it was. He could feel his junk resting on top of Ronnie’s. The thought of them touching dicks was enough for Seth to start getting hard, but he forced himself to shake off the bad thoughts and focus on his real goal. 
Alright… 1… 2… 3, now!!
Seth started pressing his body against Ronnie’s sleeping body. He knew if he wanted the body possession spell to activate, then he would have to push with everything he’s got! Magic never worked with half-assed effort after all. He pushed and pushed until finally- he could feel himself sinking into Ronnie. It began with his legs and feet. Suddenly, the feeling of Ronnie’s thick leg hair pressing against Seth’s smooth legs was gone. In its place, Seth felt his legs become consumed and enveloped by Ronnie’s thick legs. His feet aligned with Ronnie’s feet like a pair of well-fitting socks, then they began growing and stretching to match their new form. The rest of Seth’s lower half followed suit. His cock and balls slid inside Ronnie’s groin. Seth stifled a moan as it happened. The feeling of his cock slipping into Ronnie’s member like a personal dick sleeve made a rush of pleasure surge through him. That feeling only grew as his dick grew bigger and fatter until he had an identical member to his uncle’s girthy cock. Within seconds, the lower halves of their bodies had fully aligned with another. Seth tried wiggling his hips, and surely enough, he made Ronnie’s hips wiggle around. He could even start to feel the bedsheets underneath Ronnie’s/his ass. The body possession was going well so far. 
“Nrghh…” Ronnie murmured. Seth’s eyes shot open. It seemed like Ronnie was waking up, so he knew he had to hurry up and possess him before it was too late. 
Seth’s torso was pressing against Ronnie’s thick, hairy belly and chest. With some more pushing. Seth could feel his body go past physical limitations and slip inside its new vessel. Seth’s presence inside of Ronnie’s body grew with each passing second. He could feel Ronnie’s body heat combine and become his own. Their arms, chest, and gut aligned perfectly as Seth inserted himself in. His body then once again started growing. Seth’s thin frame was rapidly taking on extra body mass. He grew bigger until he had the same bulky build his uncle Ronnie had.
“Ahh fuck!” Seth accidentally squealed out loud. He couldn’t contain himself anymore after all the warm, body stimulation from transforming and possessing Ronnie. Only his head was left. While the rest of his body was already deep inside of Ronnie, his head was sticking out just above Ronnie’s chest.
“Hrm? What the-” 
Ronnie heard Seth’s outburst and lifted his head. Seth saw he was waking up and wasted no time slamming his head into his. He phased right through. The impact made Ronnie lay back again. He then let out a loud, guttural moan that echoed throughout the house. Except it wasn’t Ronnie groaning, it was Seth using his newly obtained voice after a successful body takeover. He had done it. Ronnie’s body was officially his.
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“IT WORKED! IT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED!!”
Seth was ecstatic. Not only was he able to enter someone else’s body, he was actually able to move around this time! The body possession spell worked! 
He jumped out of bed bursting with excitement, although he nearly fell over due to almost losing his balance. He immediately felt the difference in body weight between his body versus Ronnie’s body once he was on his feet. Seth took a moment to let himself get used to moving around with a bulkier body, then walked up to the mirror to admire himself. 
“Whewww… Looking good, Tío Ronnie… Or should I say, me?” 
Seth chuckled. He ran his hand across his face, letting his fingers stroke against the fine beard hairs he now possessed. Seth always shaved off his facial hair before it could fully grow in. He was amazed how it felt to have an actual beard on his face.
Seth looked down and smirked as he saw Ronnie’s body instead of his own. He laid a hand against his new hairy belly and gave it a shake. Seth was always a skinny twink, so to actually have a gut was a new experience for him (and one he was actively enjoying). He ran his hands up his torso, stopping at his chest to cup his squishy pecs. He then tried flexing his chest muscles and watched as he managed to get each pec to bounce up a little. Ronnie wasn’t a couch potato by any means, but also he wasn’t a full fledged gym rat either. The end result of being somewhere in between led to him having a larger, bulkier build with some muscle behind the girth. It was definitely a different body type than what Seth was used to, but it was one he was actively enjoying as he stripped down naked and continued admiring the newly possessed goods he now had thanks to the magic book.
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After he had successfully possessed his Tío Ronnie, Seth decided to keep practicing the body possession spell until he decided he had mastered it. He decided to step it up and try possessing a police officer the following day. Unfortunately, while Seth was able to sneak his way into the cop’s body, he was unable to take control over him. Seth was trapped as a mere passenger inside the cop’s body as he went about his day like normal. 
Seth had no idea what he was doing wrong. After failing to fully possess the police officer, Seth decided to try possessing Ronnie again. Surely enough, he was able to slip inside Ronnie and take control like it was nothing. Why was Seth able to possess his Tío Ronnie but not anybody else? None of the other spells in the Tonis gave Seth this much trouble! It was certainly an intriguing problem, and it was one Seth would have to solve alone. He had to keep his magical activities a secret; after all, who knows what would happen if someone found out… 
Over the course of the next few weeks, Seth focused most of his time and energy on figuring out how to master the body possession spell. He decided to try possessing a variety of men first. Although Seth’s actions were pretty limited due to the fact he had to be naked in order to perform the spell, he was still able to possess a dad, a bear, and another twink just like him. He wanted to see if it was a matter of a specific body type. But it was no use. No matter who he possessed, Seth just wasn’t able to take control over their bodies. Yet, despite all those failures, Seth was still able to possess Ronnie without a single problem! 
Seth was getting pretty frustrated. He just couldn’t figure out why he could possess Ronnie but not anyone else! Against his better judgment, Seth decided to entertain the possibility that the spell was limited to familial members only. However, even when he tried possessing one of his cousins, he still couldn’t possess them! Seth was truly stumbled, but even so, he refused to give up. He refused to accept that there was a magic spell he could not fully master.
Seth’s next action plan was to go all in with possessing his Tío Ronnie. He figured if he can’t fight against the current, he might as well swim with the current instead. Seth started possessing and staying inside of Ronnie’s for longer periods of time whenever he hopped into him. At first it was just overnight, but then it grew to a day, then two days and so on. Ronnie had mentioned to Seth that he began to feel weird. He couldn’t articulate the strange feeling very well, but he said felt as though he had become a bystander in his own life. Seth reassured him that it was nothing, that it was probably just the summer heat getting to him. Ronnie bought it, and Seth was glad he could keep possessing him without much worry. He needed to! Seth’s rationale was that if he could get accustomed to controlling a body that wasn’t his own for an extended period of time, then maybe he could use that experience to take over other bodies. Practice makes perfect, or so the saying goes anyway. 
Seth continued practicing the spell on Ronnie regularly. It had gotten to the point where Seth didn’t even need to check the Tonis for the lengthy cantation anymore. He already had it committed to memory with how many times he used it! Seth’s next goal was to possess Ronnie’s body for two weeks straight. After so much time possessing Ronnie, Seth considered it his second home away from home. There was almost nothing Seth could do with his body that he hadn’t already tried doing with Ronnie’s body. He was that comfortable now. 
The sun was setting on his 14th day as Seth came out of the gym, drenched with sweat after a good workout. Seth sat in the car and let out a heavy breath as he waited a minute to let himself cool down. Ronnie was a heavy sweater, way more than Seth was. And with all the body hair he had, the sweat would bead up and drip off of his hair whenever he worked out. Although it was an adjustment at first, Seth grew to love it. He never realized how good his uncle’s body odor smelled. He had a naturally manly musk that was incredibly potent and intoxicating to sniff. Seth couldn’t help but sniff his own armpits after he got all sweaty. He loved his scent, and he loved watching as drips of sweat hung off of the forest of hair he had in his pits.
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Seth intended to just take a quick sniff of his pits before driving back home, but he was getting too entranced by his own sweaty aroma. The tent forming in his mesh shorts was undeniable proof that he was into it too! Seth paused and looked down to see his protruding bulge. He shouldn’t be this aroused, but he knew he was the reason why he was already hard with just smelling his own sweaty pits. 
When Seth first challenged himself to possess Ronnie for 14 continuous days, he also swore to himself to not do anything sexual while inside his body. He was able to get by the two weeks without much difficulty. But of course, that also meant he was holding a 14 day load in. No doubt his body was itching for some relief, and although Seth was ready to just power through the last day, he couldn’t help but stare at the large, obscene bulge in his shorts. Against his better judgment, Seth let one of his hands slither down his body until it reached his bulge. His fingers wrapped around his rock hard member and gave it a light tug through the mesh fabric of his shorts. It was nothing more than a quick rub, but it was enough to get Seth squirming in his carseat as the warm pleasure of rubbing his sensitive, erect dick began to kick in. It was no use, he had to get off and he had to do it now!
Seth practically ripped his shorts with how quickly he took them off. His cock sprang out as it was released from its clothing imprisonment. Seth looked at his uncle’s fat cock with wonder as it stood upright in its full glory right in front of him. He was jealous that Ronnie had a view like this everytime he jerked off. Seth grinned as he wrapped his calloused palm around his new dick, fully relishing the fact that it was his turn to tug on that girthy member now. 
His breath became bated as he pumped himself. Seth threw his head back and let out several guttural moans from deep within his lungs. 
“Fuck yeah… You like that…? You fucking dirty bitch, yeah you like that huh…”
Seth kept talking dirty in between groaning and panting like a wild animal in heat. He loved using his uncle’s deep voice and heavy Mexican accent to talk dirty. Just hearing Ronnie’s voice come out of his mouth while he jerked off made his throbbing dick leak with precum. His thick, hairy thighs became soaked with precum and sweat as he increased the speed of his strokes. He had all the car windows closed and the AC off. In cutting off the air flow, it quickly became very warm in the car. Seth’s stolen body started sweating again, which in turn, made his sweaty musk come back. He grunted as he sniffed his pits, fueling his mind with an ecstasy-like sensation through the power of smell. 
“Arghh, fuckk…!”
Seth couldn’t last much longer. He was getting close. He picked up his stroking speed and within the next minute, ropes of warm cum shot out of him. Seth bellowed his moans as the endorphins rushed throughout his body. His fat cock was like a water gun as it shot load after load of sticky cum until both his body and the car was covered in jizz. Seth was red in the face and out of breath by the time he fully finished. After all the time and energy he put into researching the body possession spell and while trying to stay abstinent too, a good jerk off session was very much needed! But although Seth got the relief he didn’t realize he was desperately needing, his intense self-pleasure session caused the already finicky spell to act up again. Before Seth could even react, he was ejected out of Ronnie’s body. The sharp pain of getting literally torn out of Ronnie was overwhelming. Seth blacked out as a result.
…When Seth came to, he found himself lying on his bed. He looked around his room, letting the comfort of a familiar place ease his mind while he got his bearing together again. He had some mild body pain, but nothing he couldn’t manage. Seth was grateful that he came out relatively unharmed after a freak accident like that. 
He sat up in bed and realized he was wearing shorts now. Seth wasn’t sure how he got clothed or how he even got back home, but then he found a note on the ground with answers to his questions. It read: “Found you knocked out so I carried you to your bed. I also put on some clothes so you weren’t naked. Don’t go out drinking so much if you can’t handle it. Rest up, I’ll see you soon,” signed by Ronnie. 
Seth let out a heavy exhale after reading the note. He was horrified at the thought of his uncle finding him naked and passed out somewhere. However, as far as he could tell by the note, it seemed like Ronnie was still not the wiser about what his nephew has been up to lately. Seth could rest a little bit easier knowing his secret was still safe.
Seth picked up his phone, which was right next to the note on the ground. He unlocked it and checked the time. Apparently, a full 24 hours had passed since Seth was forcibly removed from Ronnie’s body. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but he figured it must’ve been pretty bad if it knocked him out cold for an entire day! 
Seth wanted to spend the rest of the day resting, but then his mind began abuzz with thoughts. He walked over to his door and peeked out of it, where he then saw Ronnie taking a midday nap down the hallway. The sight of his sleeping tío made the urge to possess him kick in. Seth’s initial thought was to just let both him and Ronnie rest before he tries casting magic again. But then the memory of the freak accident came back. Seth had magic accidents before, but they were never to that extent. The more he thought about it, the more he worried that he might have lost the power to possess people due to the accident. His mind became restless worrying about it. Seth wanted to ignore it, but he just couldn’t. He needed to know if he had lost his casting abilities for good or not.
“Okay… Just one quick possession…” Seth whispered to himself. “I just need to check if I can still possess people. Just five minutes, then I hop out and rest…”
Seth repeated his plan to himself multiple times. He knew this was probably the riskiest thing he had done with magic thus far, but with how great his anxiety was becoming, it quickly became his only option in his mind. Once he reassured himself enough, Seth took the first step towards his tío’s bedroom. It should be simple, just a quick in n out. He had already possessed Ronnie so many times after all, it should be easy enough. It should’ve been. But when Seth stepped into Ronnie’s bedroom, he was nowhere to be found. Seth tried looking for him but he couldn’t find him anywhere. It was like he had disappeared from the house!
“Maybe it’s for the best… I’ve been getting too reckless with magic anyway…” Seth mumbled as he walked back to his bedroom with his head dangling with defeat. He stepped back into his room and closed his eyes to take some deep breaths. However, just as he stood in the middle of his room, his door was slammed shut and standing in front of it was Tío Ronnie.
“Looking for someone, Sobrino?”
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Seth felt his heart drop into his stomach when he heard Ronnie’s voice. He turned his head slowly and was met with Ronnie’s staring daggers into him. Seth swallowed his breath. The air in the room had become nauseatingly tense. He wanted to get out of there, but with Ronnie standing right in front of the door, chances of escape were slim to none.
“Um… Hi, Tío…” Seth said meekly.
“Hey. Do you have anything you want to say to me?”
“Hm? N-No, I don’t think so…”
“Really. What’s this then?” 
Ronnie reached for something in his back pocket. He pulled it out and threw it onto the ground right in front of Seth. Seth’s eyes nearly jumped out of his head when he saw the Tonis Maximus. His breathing became shorter and labored. He knew more likely than not that he had been caught.
“Uhh what is that?” Seth feigned a laugh. Ronnie shook his head and took a step forward.
“Drop the act, it’s not cute. You’ve been acting weird ever since you got here back in July. At first I just ignored it, figured you just needed some time to get used to living here. But you never did. You just kept acting weirder and more secretive, almost like you were paranoid about something. Meanwhile, I started feeling weird too. I would wake up with body aches and random bruises, even when I don’t remember doing anything that would cause that. But I figured these two things just couldn’t be connected. Right, Seth?”
“But I was wrong, they were all connected. What really set me off was when I woke up in my car sweaty, naked, and covered in my own cum. How the fuck did I end up like that? Why would I end up like that? None of it made sense! But then when I got home, I found you passed out and naked in the backyard. I can handle one or two strange, out of the ordinary things happening, but this many? Nah. I can’t ignore that, I needed answers. And so, while you were passed out, I decided to snoop around your room for a bit. And surely enough, I found the one missing piece to the puzzle I needed tucked away in my beloved nephew’s clothes.” 
Ronnie pointed to the Tonis laying on the ground. Seth felt a cold shiver run down his spine, but remained quiet. 
“I’m not stupid, Seth. I know you’ve been using magic to take over my body. I couldn’t believe it at first- Hell, I didn’t want to believe it! But it’s the only thing that explains everything that’s been going on in this house ever since you arrived.”
“Wh-Wh-What are you going t-to do with me…?” Seth finally spoke up, albeit with a shaky voice.
“I’m glad you asked,” Ronnie smirked. He then got closer to Seth while taking off his clothes. Seth took a step back, but froze with sheer panic when he heard Ronnie recite the body possession spell. “Now it’s my turn to have some fun! You don’t mind, right? It’s only fair, after everything you’ve done…”
Ronnie charged at Seth. Seth was able to sidestep him, but as he ran for the door, Ronnie grabbed onto him and slammed him face first onto the bed. Seth got the wind knocked out of him, and even though he struggled to break free, Ronnie had him firmly pinned down. It was no use, he had lost.
“Alright! Now all I gotta do is enter you right!?” Ronnie yelled. Seth could feel something long and hard rubbing against his ass and knew immediately there had been a misunderstanding.
“Wait! You’re not supposed to literat- AH FUCK!!”
Seth was too late. He shouted out in pain as Ronnie shoved his fat cock into him with little to no warning. Ronnie then started to thrust his hips into Seth while keeping him pinned onto the bed.
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He was pounding away at Seth’s ass like an angry jackhammer. Seth could feel the weight of his big and strong uncle laying on top of him as he fucked him. The hair on Ronnie’s chest and stomach felt good brushing against his back while he thrusted into him. Seth was a well experienced bottom. If he wanted to have a good time, he knew not just any random top could get the job done. But with Ronnie’s girthy cock filling him up and his aggressive hip-thrusting rhythm, Seth found himself in heaven as Ronnie fucked him like a personal sex toy.
“Ah! Nrghhh… Fuck! Ahh!!”
“C’mon, open up that ass for me!”
Ronnie had Seth in a tight bear hug as he fucked him. Seth could feel his uncle really laying out all his body weight on top of him. Then, it happened. Seth’s moans grew louder and more intense as he began to feel his uncle phasing into his body. It was only his asshole at first, but then his entire body started getting filled up with the warm presence of a man as he got possessed. However, Seth was a much thinner man compared to Ronnie.
“Fuck…! Fuckk…! FUCKKKK!!! AHHH!!!” Seth cried out. He could feel his body getting stuffed to its physical limits as Ronnie pushed his bulky body into his twink body. Seth felt as if his skin was about to burst open with how full he was. But luckily for him, Ronnie was able to get inside of him without severely injuring him. However, although Ronnie had fully inserted himself into Seth, he was unable to control Seth’s body. The body possession was a failure. But to add insult to injury, Seth couldn’t move his own body either because he had become too bloated to move! It took several minutes but eventually Seth’s body was able to return to normal once it was able to adjust for all the extra body mass it had taken on. Seth was able to move like normal again, although thanks to Ronnie, he was no longer the same skinny twink as before. He had grown to match Ronnie’s body type.
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“Man! I look pretty good!” Seth said out loud. His voice had dropped several octaves in pitch. He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening- the body possession spell was clearly too unstable to follow any logic, but at least this time, Seth was enjoying the results!
Hey! What the fuck!? Why can’t I move! I want to possess you! Not just sit in here!!
Seth could hear his uncle’s voice inside his mind. He felt an itch in his head for a brief moment, but then it disappeared. But then Seth felt a sudden, burning sensation in his chest. It made him kneel over with pain. He felt as if every fiber of his existence was getting pulled and tugged on!
“Hey!! What are you doing!?” Seth shouted out in pain.
I’m going even deeper!! I’m gonna possess you no matter what, even if it means I have to take over your soul!!
Seth’s mind went into full panic mode. He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout at Ronnie to stop. He was going to depths even he had never explored with magic! There was no telling what was going to happen, but so long as Ronnie was inside of Seth, there was nothing Seth could do but endure it…
Seth was gasping for breath as he felt a cold wave flow over his body. The icy sensation began in his heart then spread throughout the rest of his body. No doubt Ronnie had made it inside of his soul by now. All of the major muscle groups in his body inflated with body mass. His chest filled in with firm pecs, his bicep and leg muscles became toned, his ass grew larger and well rounded. Hair began to sprout on every square inch of his body. At first, his hairy body resembled Ronnie’s, but the hair growth didn’t stop there. Arms, legs, pits, ass, pubic, beard, everywhere on Seth’s body had become a jungle of thick, black hair, far surpassing Ronnie’s body hair! 
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Seth groaned as he felt his cock stretching and growing. His cock thickened until he had the same hung, fat dick as his uncle. It grew out into an impressive 6.5 inches with some heavy girth to boot. His hairy balls hung lower than before as they began producing cum and testosterone en masse. By the time Ronnie finished possessing Seth’s soul, Seth had become completely unrecognizable. Seth and Ronnie had merged together to form a new man due to the soul possession that had taken place. The soul possession had taken traits from the 20 year old and 38 year old and combined them together to create the new 29 year old Ignacio.
Seth was breathing heavily as all of the bodily sensations he was experiencing began to subside. His vision grew blurry, but never recovered. Seth closed his eyes, panting for breath, and passed out on the ground.
Days had passed since Seth and Ronnie fused together. After the fourth day of being unconscious, the newly formed Ignacio woke up with groggy eyes. He picked himself up and let out a guttural yawn that nearly shook the house walls. He scratched his chest as he stretched, his fingers getting caught occasionally due to how thick his curly chest hair was. 
“Man… What the fuck happened to me…” Ignacio thought out loud. His voice had a baritone pitch and a heavy Mexican accent. Ignacio looked around and spotted a phone on the ground. He picked it up and opened the gallery through the quick start camera shortcut. The first thing on the phone gallery was a video of some shirtless young man recording himself. Ignacio played the video. 
“Alright, Seth here, I’ll be attempting the body possession spell again. Hopefully the third time’s-”
Ignacio grew bored of the video and deleted it. He had no idea who Seth was or what he was talking about, and didn’t care enough to find out. Instead, he cleared out the phone entirely and claimed it for himself.
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While cleaning up the room, Ignacio found a book titled Tonis Maximus. However, he couldn’t make sense of any of the writing inside. So he tore it apart and threw it into the fire pit, ready to burn at some point. 
Ignacio then proceeded to take a shower to get ready for the day. It was a big day after all, his brothers and sisters were supposed to fly in from the States later that day. Ignacio smiled thinking about his beloved nephews and nieces. He was sure they were just as excited to see Tío Ignacio as he was to see them. 
Ignacio hurried to get dressed and make his way to the airport asap. He was completely oblivious to all the reality-altering magic that made his existence possible, and with the Tonis Maximus destroyed, there was no turning back. Not that Ignacio really minded it; after all, he was living the easy life in his little city in Mexico, fucking men on the downlow and overjoyed whenever his family visited him. Life was as good as it could be now that magic was out of picture, permanently. 
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nelkcats · 1 year
Text
Dad War
Danny Fenton became a father and he's not panicking at all (this is a lie)
Danny should have known that asking for an uneventful week was an exaggeration. He tempted fate by saying that "nothing bad could happen now that ghosts and humans lived in peace with each other"
Of course, it was right after saying that sentence that his daughter cousin appeared in front of him with her arm melted. Having gotten used to that particular scenario he steered her into his ecto-dejecto reserves, both of them panicked when this didn't solve anything.
With no more options, Danny took her to Far Frozen, surely the Yeti would have a better idea of what was happening to the girl.
Frostbite examined Ellie just like the first time but instead of scowling like Danny had expected he looked extremely pleased, almost satisfied.
"The time has finally come" Frostbite told him happily "you must let it happen, Great One"
"Do I have to let Ellie melt down!?" Danny yelled in concern, he never thought the Yeti had a sadistic streak in him. Ellie looked just as shaken by the information.
"Not like you're thinking" The Yeti noticed his mistake and decided to explain himself "she's not melting, she's stabilizing"
"If I'm stabilizing, why is my arm goo?" Ellie groaned, the sensation of melting never failed to be strange.
"That explanation is much simpler" Frostbite smiled "how old are you, little Phantom?"
"Uh" Ellie tried to assign herself an age, she aged much slower than the other halfas "16?"
"You didn't understand the question, I didn't mean how you look" Frostbite denied affectionately "how old do you consider yourself?"
“…5” Ellie muttered in embarrassment, even if her age was a bit older than that number, she felt much younger, like a child. She didn't count her early years, between Vlad and traveling the world she hadn't begun to think about it.
Even with all the knowledge stored in her head, she wanted to experience a childhood like other children, to make friends. Something that her adolescent appearance did not allow. As much as Ellie loved talking to Val, she was one of her only friends and unlike her, Val had a whole life to live.
"There is your explanation" The yeti pointed out "ghosts take the appearance of how they see themselves, your core takes into account your wishes and therefore you are reforming into a child"
Danny remembered when he first shifted into his ghost form and Frostbite explanation made sense, but his head reminded him of a very important detail.
"Wouldn't that be troublesome? A lot of people in Amity know you as my cousin” Danny pointed out worriedly. The secret of the halfas was still closely guarded.
"Well, there is a way to leave her appearance the same as it currently is, but that's up to her" Frostbite looked at the girl waiting for an answer.
"No" Ellie denied "I want it to happen, I also...I also want to have a childhood, like the others"
Ellie had always felt bitter about being the only halfa exploring the concept of death more than life; unlike Vlad and Danny who had lived fairly normal lives before their respective accidents, she had been robbed of the possibility.
She wanted to live too.
"It's settled then," Frostbite nodded "Now, this is just getting started and someone has to look after your core while you reform. Do you have any candidates in mind?"
"Danny, can you?" Ellie asked, taking the sleeve of his suit, she wouldn't have considered asking anyone else. Even if she didn't admit it, Ellie always saw him as her father.
"You don't even have to ask, I'll be here when you get back" Danny ruffled her hair with a smile.
"Thank you, dad" Ellie closed her eyes as she let herself be carried away by the sensation of her core. It was a little strange that what she thought would kill her was fulfilling her dreams.
Before the halfa could reply to the comment, Ellie melted, and the ectoplasm was quickly absorbed into her core.
Danny looked at the green stone in his hands with concern.
"How long do you think it will take her?" he asked the Yeti.
"A couple of hours" Frostbite sat down next to him "it's hard being a new parent isn't it? I still remember when my children were born"
Danny avoided mentioning that he had no idea about his children. He wondered if he had them in life or death.
"I- Ellie is my cousin," Danny tried to tell him, but his argument sounded weak.
"She doesn't seem to see you as such" The Yeti shrugged as he handed the boy a cup of tea, but the halfa refused to take it as long as he held the stone in his hands.
Frostbite snorted while setting the mug aside, a new parent, in fact.
"Uh, looks like it's time for me to leave my parents house, don't you think?" Danny tried to joke, even Jazz had her own house in another place.
He had temporarily tried it when he was balancing his college life with his spooky duties, living with Sam and Tucker was fun but in the end he came home.
"It seems so" The Yeti shrugged "congratulations, it's a girl"
Danny laughed as he held the stone closer to his chest. He had really become a father, hadn't he?
His core purred at the thought, while an invisible thread connected the two half-ghosts.
Being a parent didn't sound bad. Maybe it wasn't even as hard as people made it out to be.
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Danny regrets that last thought, he regrets it so much.
He just had to think that, didn't he?
As usual, he called Jazz to inform her of the day's events as he held the stone to his chest (Frostbite had told him it was safe to do so).
Jazz didn't seem too surprised by the news, on the contrary, she started recommending him books on parenting, so many books.
Danny tried to tell her that Ellie probably wouldn't be a difficult child, he got a 30-minute lecture on how she'd probably regress to the mental age of 5 or 6, and therefore he had to be prepared for it.
Deciding to listen to his older sister, Danny googled for advice.
Checking on wikihow how to take care of a child didn't work, Danny could attest to that.
The halfa sighed as he looked at the "I'll bring you some books tomorrow" message that Jazz had send him. Did he really have to read?
It couldn't be that hard, right? His parents took care of Jazz and she ended well!
Danny was ignoring Sam's voice in his head saying that "Jazz is the spiders georg of children and should not be counted"
Of course, Danny was also avoiding to look at the fact that his parents also took care of him and he kinda died. Ellie was already half dead so he couldn't fucked up that part.
He put his phone aside as he stared at the stone on his chest. It had been hours, was Ellie okay? Perhaps something had gone wrong?
He frowned wondering if he should call Frostbite when he noticed the glowing core. Before he knew it he had a 5-year-old girl crushing his stomach.
"Ouch," Danny groaned in pain "fatherhood hurts"
"Daddy! Daddy!" Ellie jumped on his stomach, she didn't seem to notice the change in title "Look! Look! Do you like my new look?"
Realizing that Jazz was right, Danny pretended to think for a few minutes, Ellie looked bummed out at his lack of response.
"Of course I love it!" Danny scooped her up into his arms as she giggled "you look perfect!"
Ellie chuckled as she ran off to Danny's room where she had kept his phone before the whole mess.
"I'll be back soon! I have to tell Val!" The girl ran off, probably forgetting that she could go through the ceiling and get to the room faster.
Danny gave her a thumbs up, as soon as Ellie disappeared down the stairs he lay back on the couch rubbing his stomach. His daughter had strength.
"We're definitely moving" he muttered, closing his eyes. Not in a million years would a girl with that much energy go unnoticed.
Danny checked his phone again and saw messages from Sam and Tucker. The halfa pouted, Jazz was a gossip.
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"Are you sure you have everything?" Tucker asked, checking a list on his PDA. No matter how many years passed, he still loved his technology and refused to throw it away.
"Definitely sure" Danny yawned as he loaded the boxes onto the GAV. Ellie was asleep in the passenger seat.
"Papers?" Tucker checked the list.
"Legal and illegal" Danny held up a folder "Thanks for that, by the way"
"You're welcome man" Tucker shrugged. He had created Ellie's papers a while back, but they had never been needed. Adapting the age was a surprise.
"Food? Money? Clothes?" Tucker recited the list, to Danny's nod he continued, "materials to put together the new portal?"
"Ready" Danny pointed to the box that said "danger", there were also the ectoplasm samples.
"I still think that's a stupid idea" Sam rolled her eyes "that thing killed you"
"Yes, but we need ectoplasm on a regular basis and well, building one was the easiest way to get it" the halfa shrugged. It still made him shudder to think about the accident but the portal was necessary "Besides, portals don't measure distance in the Realms, I can build one that's only a few feet from home"
Also, having Far Frozen close to them was always an advantage and the ghosts had promised not to invade the new town without his permission. He still couldn't believe he was moving to New Jersey.
"That's the only reason I'm letting you get away with it," Jazz snorted as she bent down to kiss her brother's forehead "Remember, we're just a phone call away"
"I know, I know, you don't need to move out as well" Danny shook his head amused, he felt that if he didn't stop them they would really try to " I never thought I would have to move"
"It's been so long since the accident" Sam remembered as she placed a hand on her hip "even though it seems like yesterday"
"It feels like it happened yesterday" Danny admitted while touching the scar on his hand. The memories of the electrocution were still fresh in his mind.
"By the way dude, are you sure to leave Vlad as her biological father?" Tucker winced at the document, he could see the reason but he didn't like it.
"Of course, that idiot must pay me child support" Danny smiled "eat the rich and all that"
Having an excuse to spend Vlad's money was always fun. And if his stupid biological sex could help that, he would use it. Danny was honestly relieved that his legal documents had been changed. He wondered if Vlad knew the real reason why he was never able to create a male clone.
"You could just ask us for money" Sam patted his shoulder "Tucker and I could support your poor ass"
Both had been very successful in their respective fields. Sam had graduated in law and was getting another degree as an Environment Protection Technician, she had changed a lot in a short time. On the other side, Tucker had created his own Technology & Security company, he was currently negotiating a deal with Wayne Enterprises.
Danny had a feeling that his friend wanted to use him to close a deal and had suggested the city as an option for that reason. Bludhaven wasn't far from Gotham after all.
"Just because I'm unemployed doesn't mean I'm poor" Danny pouted "I'll get a job in the new town before you know it"
"I hope so, your savings aren't going to stretch that long" Jazz sighed. Her brother's lack of planning never ceased to be worrisome "Oh, and don't forget to take off your blinder, you need to breathe"
Danny frowned at the comment but nodded. His ghost form was more comfortable because it suited his chosen gender, he wondered if he could change the human as well.
"Okay, I guess that's it" Tucker put the PDA away  "remember not to drive like either of your parents, we don't want you to get a ticket so quickly"
"Nor that the weather news announces when you're going out" Sam smirked, she remembered when Lance Thunder started announcing when Jazz and Danny were learning to drive.
"That's impossible, you know I'm an excellent driver and therefore I'm not going to get a ticker" Danny stuck out his tongue at his best friend.
"Whatever you say Danny" Sam snorted "call us when you get there, and have a safe trip!"
His friends and sister said goodbye to him as he got on the GAV. He started driving away from home. It wasn't long before he passed the "Welcome to Amity Park" sign. The little ghost drawings around it made him smile.
Still, Danny was offended by the skepticism of his friends, he was sure that he was not going to get a ticket anytime soon.
───────────────
An officer was giving him a ticket.
Danny banged his head against the steering wheel of the vehicle as the police officer asked him the routine questions.
"Does this vehicle have a license?" The officer raised an eyebrow. Danny sighed as he handed over the GAV papers, he had licensed all of his parents' inventions long ago "Okay- wait, is this a SUV?"
"No, it's a GAV" Danny growled without further explanation, he was still annoyed by the situation. Clockwork was laughing at him from his damned tower, he was sure "Do you need anything else, officer...Grayson?"
Officer Grayson looked at the vehicle with doubt, the damn thing had more modifications than the Batmobile, he really hoped the boy wasn't some future villain.
He had so many questions to ask.
Before Dick could question him further or Danny risked murder on his first day in town, Ellie woke up from her nap.
"Daddy?" Ellie yawned looking at the driver's seat curiously "Are we there yet?"
All the halfa's anger melted away and his attitude took a complete turn.
"No honey, we got pulled over for speeding but we're in town now" Danny leaned down to brush her hair out of her face "you can go back to sleep"
"You're a bad driver" his daughter smirked, she wondered if driving skills were hereditary.
"Are you new in town?" Dick leaned in curiously, the girl reminded him of his own daughter.
Danny was about to tell him it was none of his business but Ellie answered first.
"¡Yes! We're moving" Ellie smiled "That's why we brought all the boxes, I'm going to enroll in a new school and dad is going to get a job"
"That sounds wonderful" Dick smiled softly as he handed Danny the ticket along with the GAV's papers "You should be more careful on the streets, I don't think there is anywhere that accepts 120 km/hr as a normal speed"
The halfa frowned, didn't the officer have a heart!? At least he could forgive a new neighbor for a silly mistake!
"Yeah, yeah, thanks" he murmured as he put the ticket in the glove compartment.
"Well, all seems to be in order" Dick straightened up "you can follow your way, enjoy Bludhaven!"
Danny hoped that he would never see him again.
When he arrived at his new house, the halfa carried Ellie to the couch and let her sleep, after which he began to unload the things from the GAV.
He wondered if he should start unpacking everything or just sleep. He felt tired at the thought of opening all those boxes and fell asleep on the couch with his daughter.
When he woke up it was night, Danny peeked out of the window as he heard a motorcycle park next door. Perhaps he could see his neighbors?
He gaped at the sight of fucking Officer Grayson reaching down to grab a little girl and carry her into his arms.
Wasn't it enough to be physically perfect and heartless, but he also had to be a good father? Damn everything!
It had to be a fucking joke
X
1K notes · View notes
aphroditelovesu · 9 months
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The Lost Queen - I
— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.
— genre: yandere, dark!au.
— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.
— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader
— word count: +1,592.
— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom , @hadesnewpersephone
— the lost queen series masterlist.
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Chapter 1
''This is so annoying.''
You looked up only to find your friend glaring at you angrily. You cleared your throat and asked her, ''What's so annoying?''
''All of this!'' She snarled, pointed at the history books on the table. You were in the library, studying about Alexander the Great at the request of your history teacher. Your friend complained, she hated history class and the teacher. You didn't hate the classes, but you didn't like Mr. Sheffield. He was so arrogant and brazen. You were sure he was getting involved with a student, but you had no proof.
Yet.
''I know you're angry but there's no need to take it out on the poor books, May.'' You scolded her and picked up the book she had nearly torn up in her anger. ''Besides, if you screw up this book, you'll have to buy another one.''
''I don't care about that book!'' May snarled and pulled your hands towards her, ''(Y/N), please tell me that you found something rotten about Mr. Sheffield to get rid of him for good?''
You rolled your eyes. Had this. You've kind of become a spy in the meantime, trying to find something about your terrible history teacher and get rid of him. It wasn't ethical, you knew, but you'd do anything to get rid of that bastard. You already had noticed him looking at your legs shamelessly when you wore a skirt or shorts.
''I'm looking for. It's not that easy, you know? I'm not a professional spy.'' You grumbled and went back to your reading. You were reading about the Battle of Issus and its importance in the conquest of the Persian Empire.
May mumbled something unintelligible and you patted her neck comfortingly.
''Here, can we continue our reading, please? We have a work about this topic and I want the highest grade.''
''You're such a nerd, (N/N).'' You and her both laughed and she went back to trying to focus on the open book in front of her. Each was reading about different battles to get the job done faster. As you read about the Battle of Issus, May read about  the Granicus.
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You breathed a sigh of relief when you finally removed your sneakers and could lie down on your bed. The day was long and exhausting and you just wanted to be able to sleep until you became one with your bed.
But unfortunately you couldn't. You had to go to the market at your mother's request to buy some vegetables. The thought made you more tired but you were a good daughter and for that, just for that, you got up and went to the bathroom for a much needed shower, as you had been sweating all day due to the infernal heat it was doing.
''Ugh.'' You grumbled after getting out of the shower. You had taken a little longer than you normally would, but you felt so tired and the hot water helped to relax your sore muscles. It was a shame you couldn't just fall asleep
You dried your body and put on some comfortable clothes and put your sneakers back on. You took your phone and your headphones, putting some upbeat music on Spotify and put your phone inside the small bag that had the money to buy the vegetables at the market. As soon as you left the house, you closed the door and started walking towards your destiny.
The music was the only thing that enveloped you and you didn't notice someone calling you until they grabbed your shoulders, startling you.
''What the hell?'' You mumbled and looked at whoever had stopped you. You frowned as you didn't know the older man who glared at you sinisterly.
You felt disturbed by the man's piercing gaze on you, ''Hm... Hi?''
He didn't answer you and continued to watch you intently. This was getting creepy and bizarre.
''Uh... Since you're not going to say anything, I... I'll go...'' You were about to put your earphone back on, when he grabbed your right arm. ''Let me go, now.''
He glared at you and let go of your arm slowly, you pulled your arm back when he let go. He spoke, in a low voice but you heard it loud and clear: ''The shadows of fate surround you... The world will never be the same for you, girl.''
''What?'' You asked but he looked at you for the last time, smiled weakly and turned his back, leaving you standing on the sidewalk and thinking about the man's sinister words. ''Must be just another crazy dude...'' You shook your head and decided to continue going to the market.
You ignored the squeezing of your heart inside your chest, ignored the feeling that something was wrong. And that was your first biggest mistake.
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You left the market with bags in your hand, still thinking about the mysterious man's words. What was it? Why was this bothering you so much? And why did you feel a tightness in your heart as if something was wrong? You shrugged, deciding to ignore it all and go home as soon as possible, but first you had one last place to go. At a bookstore, you wanted to buy a new book that you heard had arrived and you felt very anxious about reading it. As if you have to read it.
You smiled brightly when you arrived at the store, opening the door to find hundreds of books. You put away the bags you were holding and headed to the history book section. For some reason, ever since you've read about the Battle of Issus, you've found yourself wanting to learn more about Alexander the Great. You could look up wikipedia, but you'd rather read a book.
Approaching the shelf, you found the book you were looking for, The Life of Alexander the Great, and opened it to flip through. You decided to take it and paid for the book at the register, picking up your bags and putting away the new book. You were eager to start reading it.
As soon as you got home, you packed your groceries and ran with your book to your room, changing clothes and putting on your favorite pajamas, lay down on the bed and opened the book to the first chapter. Your eyes read each word eagerly and you frowned as you read the next paragraph:
''Alexander was married with a woman of an unknown origin and he was deeply in love with her and devoted, according to sources at the time. Her name was (Y/N)..."
And why did your head begin to throb painfully? You tried to stay awake, but your eyes were too heavy and the headache made it worse. Maybe a nap... You bookmarked the page you left off and placed the book on the corner table and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, your body in desperate need of a rest.
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When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your room.
You tried to get up but your body still ached, you groaned in pain as your head throbbed again. What was that?
Finally managing to sit up, you looked around and felt dread creep through your body. You didn't know this place, much less the people who watched you cautiously and suspiciously. Your eyes widened when you noticed the ancient greek armor and swords in their hands and even more when you saw the symbol of Ancient Macedonian. Vergina Sun.
You recognized the symbol from the history books. This was a dream, it had to be, but if it was a dream, why did you feel pain and feel like you knew these people who looked at you like an alien. And you felt embarrassed when you noticed that you were still in your pajamas, dressed completely differently from the men who were looking at you.
''What are you doing?'' A loud authoritative voice echoed and you cringed even more. First, the person who was speaking approached the group of men along with another slightly taller man and second, why did you understand them? It wasn't the language you spoke, you knew that as it sounded nothing like your mother tongue but much more different. Greek, you noticed and that left you even more perplexed.
You didn't understand greek as far as you knew.
''What is that? Who are you?'' The man dressed more formally than the others, asked looking at you curiously. He had dark blonde hair and his eyes were two colors, blue and brown. He wasn't very tall, but you felt small with the way he looked at you. He seemed to be the leader, you noticed.
You looked like a fish out of water and one of the men laughed and said, ''Looks like she's lost her tongue, Alexander.''
Alexander... You widened your eyes even more and walked away from the grip of the man who was holding you. No... It couldn't be...
You had read a book about him... And his appearance...
By god... You were face to face with Alexander the Great.
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— lady l: I hope you liked the first chapter. This was her introduction to the ancient world and the next few will see (Y/N)'s interaction with Alexander and the others.
It has not yet been proofread and may contain errors, so I apologize for that. Until the next chapter my loves!
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Astarion Jealousy Part 2
The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.
CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers
~
It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions. 
He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.
Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself. 
All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many. 
But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you. 
It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped. 
On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.
He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”
Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it. 
Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”
Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake. 
“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”
“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”
He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one. 
“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”
“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”
His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”
It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."
“But-”
“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”
Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something. 
He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”
“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”
You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze. 
Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it. 
“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting. 
And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him. 
You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.
He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed. 
He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”
He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes. 
You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”
“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”
You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.
It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous. 
Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.
He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.
He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.
You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.
You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason. 
He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"
A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.
“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?” 
"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.
Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.” 
You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”
Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?
Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."
You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”
But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."
You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”
Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”
It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances. 
But what about your lives were normal?
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celestie0 · 2 months
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside
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ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)
a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)
☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1
♬.*゚playlist
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You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 
Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 
One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.
The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.
You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.
He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.
“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”
You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”
“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.
“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.
He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 
“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 
His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”
You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.
“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”
You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”
He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”
You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”
He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.
“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”
“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.
“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”
He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”
You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”
You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.
The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 
The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 
You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 
“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”
“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.
“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.
“Boo, you whore. For what class?”
“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”
“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”
“Yeah.”
“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”
“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.
“So definite no to hang out?” 
“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”
“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”
You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”
“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 
You glance at the time. 11:56am. 
“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.
You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.
“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”
You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.
“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”
You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 
She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”
You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 
She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”
You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”
Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”
Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 
“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 
You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.
But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 
“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”
Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”
You sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”
Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”
She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”
The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 
It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 
Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 
You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  
“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”
You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 
Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.
“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 
You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.
There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.
Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”
“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.
“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”
“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”
Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 
“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 
“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”
There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.
“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”
“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 
Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”
“What?”
He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”
“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”
“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.
Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”
The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.
“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”
For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.
“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”
You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 
Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”
“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”
“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.
The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.
“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 
He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.
“Yeah.”
“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”
You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”
There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”
The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”
You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 
The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.
Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.
“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.
The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.
“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.
You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”
The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”
“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”
She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”
“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.
She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 
You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”
She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”
“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”
“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.
You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”
“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 
“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.
“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.
You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.
“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”
The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.
You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.
“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”
“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”
The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.
The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”
“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.
All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 
“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”
“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”
You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.
“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.
Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.
“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.
“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”
The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 
“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.
“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.
He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”
“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.
“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”
Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 
Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”
He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.
You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.
“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.
You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.
You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.
“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”
“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”
Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”
He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”
“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 
He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.
“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.
This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 
“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”
He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”
“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.
He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.
“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”
He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”
Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”
“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.
“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.
He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Positive?”
“Satoru.”
“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.
You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 
This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 
“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.
“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.
“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.
You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”
“I will.” 
“I’m glad.”
“No peeping.”
“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 
It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 
When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.
“What?” you ask.
“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”
You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 
You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 
“No. I love it.”
“I’m not following.”
You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”
He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”
“Your problem,” you say.
“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.
“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”
“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.
You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.
“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.
“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.
“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.
“But I usually sleep on the left side.”
You blink at him.
“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.
“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.
Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.
“Are you su-”
“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.
He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”
The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.
He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.
“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.
“Sneak what in?” 
“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”
You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 
“Before,” is all you say to him.
He sighs. “y/n…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.
It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.
“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”
“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.
You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”
“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”
“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.
He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”
“That’s it? That’s the reason?”
“Mhm.”
You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”
He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands? 
“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.
“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 
You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.
“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.
He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.
You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.
“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 
He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 
Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.
“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.
“It’s okay,” you whisper too.
The silence settles for longer.
He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.
“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.
“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”
You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”
“Reasons.”
“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”
He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”
You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.
“Like…guilmon from digimon?
“Mhm.”
“You like digimon?”
“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.
“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 
“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.
He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.
He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.
“Hey–”
“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 
“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.
“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”
When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 
“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.
“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”
“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.
“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.
You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 
He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”
You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.
He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.
You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.
“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 
You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.
“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.
It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.
You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 
You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.
“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”
“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”
He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”
You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”
He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”
“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.
“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”
You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.
“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 
“Mhm, makes sense.”
His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.
You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”
He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”
“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”
“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 
“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”
He nods. “You do.”
There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.
“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.
“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”
“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”
“I asked him for it.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”
“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”
There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”
You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”
He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”
“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”
“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”
“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.
You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 
“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”
“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.
“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”
His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 
You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.
“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”
“You’re not bad,” is all he says.
“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”
“y/n,” he says, like a warning.
“I mean it,” you whisper.
“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.
“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”
He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.
“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 
Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 
Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.
You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.
Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.
You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.
The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 
It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.
“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”
You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.
Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”
You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 
You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.
“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.
Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.
“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.
“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.
Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”
All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.
“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”
With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.
“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.
You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”
“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 
“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.
He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”
“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.
He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”
“When did you graduate?” you ask.
“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 
You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”
“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.
“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.
He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”
“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.
“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.
You meet his gaze. “No way.”
“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 
You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”
He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”
You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”
“Yup.”
“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.
“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”
You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”
He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”
You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”
The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.
“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”
“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”
“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”
“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”
He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”
You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”
He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”
Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”
He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 
Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”
He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”
You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.
“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”
“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.
The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.
UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.
The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.
“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.
“Went fine,” Kai responds.
“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”
Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”
Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.
“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.
You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.
There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.
“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.
“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.
He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 
You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 
And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.
When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.
“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.
He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”
He doesn’t deny it.
“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.
He sighs. “Yes.”
“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.
“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”
You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.
“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.
“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”
“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”
He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”
“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”
“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”
“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”
“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.
“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.
He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”
“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”
He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”
There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”
He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”
“Mhm. Thanks.”
He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.
The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 
You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 
You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 
Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.
|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera
|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way
The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.
You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.
|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there
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a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off
➸ take me to chapter nine!
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taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)
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bangchansdirty-slut · 13 days
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Can I request G!p Kazuha?
A Little Help From Manager
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Paring:Top GP!Kazuha x Bottom!Manager!Reader
Genre: Smut
Summary:Reader helps Kazuha with her "big problem" in the bathroom.
More: Masterlist
A/n: Oh my God, I need more Idol X Manager reader fics in my life!
As the echoes of applause faded away, you, the manager of the K-pop girl group Lesserafim, stood outside the venue with the rest of the group. The girls were bubbling with excitement, eager to head back to their dorms and celebrate another successful performance. But something was off. You noticed that Kazuha, the ballerina of the group, was nowhere to be found. You exchanged worried glances with Chaewon, the leader, as she approached you.
"Um, Y/n… We can't find Kazuha. Do you think you could stay behind and get her? The others can take the van so they won't get caught in traffic with fans from other groups arriving," she asked softly.
You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should leave the girls unsupervised. But Chaewon gave you a reassuring smile, and the other members nodded their support. With a deep breath, you nodded in agreement. "Alright, I'll get her. You guys go ahead and leave without me. I'll catch up."
The girls filed out of the venue, some chattering excitedly about the performance, others already beginning to plan for their celebration. You lingered for a moment, watching them go before turning your attention to the empty dressing room. The room felt eerily silent without the girls energetic presence.
As you walked to the bathroom, you heard a soft whimper coming from within. Pushing open the door, you found Kazuha on the floor, her pretty features contorted in pain. Her hand was clenched around her crotch, and she was stroking herself frantically. "K-Kazuha?" you stammered, shocked by the sight before you.
Her head snapped up, her eyes filling with tears. "Y-Y/n…" she managed to choke out. "I need you… I can't stop…" Her voice was desperate, pleading. You couldn't believe this was happening.
As you stood there, uncertain of what to do, Kazuha's breath came in ragged gasps. Her cock throbbed, harder and harder, and she began to stroke it faster. "P-Please Y/n," she whispered. "I-I can't… hold on…"
You felt a mixture of fear, confusion, and desire coursing through you. You couldn't just leave her like this, but you didn't want to see her hurt herself either. Tentatively, you knelt down beside her, reaching out to touch her soft, pale skin. She flinched at first, but then relaxed slightly into your touch.
"Kazuha… are you sure this is what you want?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
She nodded frantically, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. "Yes… please…"
You hesitated for a moment, but then slowly began to remove your clothes. Kazuha watched you with hungry eyes, licking her lips as she undressed as well. As you stood before her naked, she crawled over to you, her soft skin sliding against yours. She put one of your legs on her shoulder and started to eat you out sloppily, sucking on your clit as you held on to the sink for support. Her tongue danced expertly, sending waves of pleasure through you.
Your legs began to shake uncontrollably as you felt your orgasm building. You tried to pull away from her, but she gripped your butt tightly and pushed you back down onto her face. You could feel your release building inside you, and then it crashed over you in a powerful wave. You screamed out in pleasure, your body tensing as you came.
Kazuha looked up at you, a satisfied smile on her face. "Now get on all fours, baby," she purred. You did as she said, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and euphoria wash over you. Kazuha positioned herself behind you, her cock slippery with precum as she rubbed it against your wet entrance.
"Tell me how much you want this," she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. "Tell me how badly you need me inside you." You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of her words.
She began to rock her hips against you, slowly at first, but gaining momentum. Her cock pressed against your entrance, teasing you mercilessly. You arched your back, moaning in pleasure as she found the perfect spot inside you. She thrust deeper, her body sliding against yours in perfect rhythm.
"You feel so good, Kazuha," you gasped. "I can't… I can't take it…"
She smiled down at you, her eyes dark and lustful. "That's it, baby," she whispered. "Let go and enjoy it."
As she continued to thrust into you, your body responded in kind. You wrapped your arms around her waist, your fingers digging into her soft skin as you arched your back to meet each of her thrusts. Her cock felt incredible inside you, filling you up and making you feel so alive. The way she moved, the way she touched you, it was as if she were made for you.
"Kazuha…" you gasped, your voice strained from the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. "I'm… I'm close…"
She smiled down at you, her eyes dark and full of lust. "Let it happen, baby," she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. "Fuck…Let it all out."
As you felt her words sink in, you gave in to the pleasure washing over you. Kazuha began to move faster, her hips slapping against yours in perfect rhythm. Her cock stretched you further than you thought possible, filling every inch of you as she thrust deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, but in the best way possible.
She reached around, finding your clit with her fingers and began to tease it, circling it expertly. You arched your back, moaning loudly as the pleasure built inside you. Your muscles tensed, ready to explode, and then she pushed you over the edge.
"Ahhhh!" you cried out, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashed over you. Kazuha held you up, her strong arms steady as you writhed in her grip. She smiled down at you, watching your face contort in ecstasy, and then lowered her lips to yours. Their softness contrasted sharply with the roughness of your skin, still flushed from your climax.
As she kissed you, she thrust deeper, her cock inside you, filling you completely. You could feel her release, the hot, salty liquid pressing against your insides as she came, her body trembling against yours. She groaned into your mouth, her hips bucking against yours, before collapsing on top of you, their weight sending a shiver of pleasure through your entire body.
You held her close, your fingers tangled in her hair as you savored the afterglow of your shared intimacy. After a moment, she pulled away, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. She smiled down at you, her eyes still glassy from desire. "Thank you," she whispered. "That was amazing."
You smiled back, running your fingers along her smooth cheek. "I'm glad I could help," you replied, your voice still husky from the passion that had consumed you both. "And you're welcome."
Kazuha giggled, her breath tickling your ear. "You're so sweet," she whispered, kissing you gently before moving to nibble at your neck. "Now, let's get cleaned up."
Together, you and Kazuha washed up in the sink, taking care to clean the mess from your clothes as well. The cool water felt good against your skin, helping to calm your racing heart and steady your breath. As you finished drying off, Kazuha slipped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. "Thanks again," she murmured into your shoulder. "I'm really glad we could do that."
You wrapped your arms around her as well, feeling a contented warmth spread through your body. "It's no problem," you replied, kissing her gently on the cheek. "I'm just happy I could help." You glanced at the clock, realizing that you didn't have much time left before you needed to get back to your dorm. "We should probably get going, huh?"
Kazuha nodded, reluctantly pulling away from you. "Yeah," she sighed, her voice tinged with regret. "We should." She started to dress quickly, slipping her underwear back on and then pulling on her skirt. You fixed your own clothes as well, trying not to think about how much you'd miss the feel of her skin against yours.
As you made your way back to the dorm, your heart still raced from the intensity of your shared encounter. The warmth between your legs lingered, a constant reminder of Kazuha's presence and the passion you'd just shared. You couldn't help but glance at her occasionally, marveling at the way her hair flowed over her shoulders and the way her hips swayed with each step.
The other girls in the dorm, oblivious to what had truly transpired, welcomed you both back with idle chatter. You forced yourself to focus on their conversation, not wanting to give away the intense intimacy you'd shared with Kazuha. Your body still tingled from her touch, and the memory of her skin against yours lingered in your mind like a haunting melody.
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galehautstomb · 9 months
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that cold-sweat wrung out feeling of finishing a fanfic at 5 am the sun peeking through your curtains onto your tear-stains, because god fucking damn it, what have you just read, why does it ACHE, you’re going to have an aneurism, people write things like this, just to leave you dry mouthed, the fundamental neurons of your brain forever changed, what is canon if not the way this writer plucks your heart out and eats it and licks their fingers afterward and—
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kierewrites · 3 months
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What Would Karma Do... when a cruel teacher attacks your class?
navi - masterlist
Karma Akabane x Reader
Mood Song: judas
Summary: Remember the beloved Assassination Classroom anime? This is pretty much that, except you enter the picture of Karma's chaotic school year. Let's see just how compatible the two of you are.
Warnings: depictions of violence, cursing, karma being a psycho (when is he not tho), angst with a tooth rotting sweet ending :3
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"Woah! Is that..."
"I..It's cake!"
"Hand made eclairs too!
That was just a few of the many comments from your classmates as you all ogled over the picnic blanket full of sweet treats from all around the world. 
Most of the time your P.E. classes consisted of intense training regimens or one-on-one combat lessons with Karasuma, but today played out so much differently than any class before.
Though even with this bizarre change, you couldn't say you were upset. Today had already started rough when you learned Karma was skipping class all day, even though you begged him not to...
"Karma.. staying up late.. isn't an.. excuse for you to.. ditch.. classes!" You whined in between kisses that were surely meant to shut you up.
Karma simply rolled his eyes before pinching your nose and smirking lazily.
"You're the one keeping me up so late angel~"
Pinching your lips together into that adorable pout he loved, you smacked his hand away and narrowed your eyes down at him, "Yeah but I'm still going to class tomorrow."
Karma let out a low growl at this, flipping you over so that he was on top of you now. He tried nearly every tactic he could to convince you to ditch school with him, but even he should’ve known nothing could stand between your academic resolve.
So since your little rascal decided to truly ditch as he promised, you couldn't help but smile for the first time all day upon seeing the lovely treats before you. There were even a few custom treats from back home that you recognized.
"T..These look sorta pricey sir, are you sure?" Isogai questioned nervously, seeming to be the only student that hadn't fallen under the trance of the sweet assortments.
The new P.E. teacher simply boomed with laughter, offering a warm smile to the class.
"Yeah! Chow down kiddos!" The teacher spoke with a large grin, "I didn't break the bank so we could stare at these babies all day!"
"You really know your way around branded sweets dontcha?" Yada spoke with a grin.
Your new teacher simply smiled before closing his eyes,
"Trust me when it comes to the good stuff.. it's love~"
All of the students were in awe at such a generous and kind teacher, not that Karasuma was mean or anything, but this was not your typical day in the Assassination Classroom.
"So you're gonna take over P.E. to help Mr. Karasuma get caught up?" Nagisa questioned, though his eyes were still glued to the chocolate eclair in his hands.
"Yup! Those are my marching orders!" The teacher declared as he looked back at the blue haired boy, "Poor guy needs some time to himself."
The students all seemed to smile at that. Admittedly it felt like Karasuma was running a one man show over here. Sure Korosensei and Professor Jelavic were around, but most of the time it felt like Karasuma was even babysitting them too.
"Wow these treats are truly amazing, thank you so much-" You began, only to be interrupted by a pink blob quite literally drooling over your new P.E teacher's shoulder.
"Ah! This fellow must be Korosensei!" Your teacher exclaimed excitedly, not even minding the literal drool dripping down his shoulder, "Please help yourself!"
Those words seemed to be the final string holding your teacher back as he wildly dug into the treats on the blanket.
"You know sir, being colleagues, you and Mr. Karasuma are night and day." Kimura spoke with a tilted head, Hara joining in with a smile,
"He's nice to us and all but you're like the neighborhood dad!"
The teacher's eyes seemed to light up at that as he let out another booming laugh before dragging you all into his arms with a tight hug.
"Dad.. I like the sound of that!"
All of your classmates seemed to laugh in unison, everyone enjoying the warm embrace and not seeming to worry about the strangely kind personality the teacher had.
-
"Alright everybody here?" Your teacher spoke with a smile, standing before your classmates ready for class.
"Now things are going to be tougher than usual but stick it out like the champs I know you are and we're talking more sweets!" Mr. Takaoka spoke with a grin.
"For us? Or are you really just saving them for yourself?" Nakamura sneered.
"Nope nope..." Mr. Takaoka said with a sheepish smile as he stuck his tongue out and patted his large tummy, "Don't wanna ruin this girlish figure!"
With that the class howled into laughter. This guy was almost too good to be true. Plenty generous, good sense of humor, a true care for the craft he's teaching. He really was like a big old papa bear.
Looking around you noticed your classmates seemed happy enough, nobody was ever really smiling during P.E. class, rather panting and trying to catch their breath. Maybe this would be a good change for you guys?
"Okay then, along with your new training regimen comes a new schedule!"
You along with the rest of your students looked up to the colorful paper your teacher was holding up before raising a brow as he began to hand them out.
The schedule before you was.. chaotic to say the least. 
Almost every period was P.E. class, many of your academic electives now switched to training. Along with that instead of your normal school day length, the training went on until nine o'clock at night!
Looking up with wide eyes you noticed your classmates all looking around with the same bewildered faces. Maybe he was just joking around with you again?
"We have ten periods now?!"
"We train till nine pm?"
Your classmates all threw thirty different questions at the man who stood before you, his smile never faltering as everyone expressed their concerns about the new schedule.
"That's the idea, little grasshoppers!" Your teacher exclaimed with a smile, his joyful personality contrasting with the reality of the situation, "Don't be glum, think of the payoff! This curriculum will turn you into lean, mean, killing machines-"
"Wait hold up hold up, this is ridiculous!" Maehara interrupted, Mr. Takaoka's smile faltering, "First off this is school, we gotta think about grades too."
Mr. Takaoka simply smiled sheepishly while scratching the back of his head. Maybe this guy was just so hardcore he forgot you guys actually had to take academic classes.
"I mean come on we can't go by this! We're supposed to stu-"
The boy's words were cut off when the teacher placed a gentle palm on the top of his head. Everyone seemed to raise a brow until he lifted his knee up and slammed Maehara's chin down onto his knee with a painful crack.
The entire class gasped, your hand flying to your mouth as you backed up on your knees. Was this some sort of sick joke? Did he and Maehara practice this skit? The way his practically lifeless form dropped to the ground really didn't make it seem that way.
"Rule number one, we don't do can't." Mr. Takaoka spoke in a dark voice, his smile still spread across his lips proudly as he watched the boy twitch on the ground in pain.
"Rule number two, we are a family and I'm the dad," He continued to speak, his continuous use of the word "dad" suddenly backfiring on all of you, "Show me a family where dad ain't in charge and I'll show you a family in crisis."
The man began to lecture you all, ominous smile still spread across his face as he walked around your group with his hands expectantly behind his back.
"A father loves each of his children unconditionally, the thought of even losing one of ‘em breaks his heart. We're gonna save the world kids, and we're gonna do it as a family." Mr. Takaoka finished, gathering Mimura and Kanzaki in his arms.
All of you seemed to flinch when he did this, especially your two classmates in his embrace. The sight of both of their cringing faces made you feel hot inside, not in the good way.
"I.. Actually sir, to tell you the truth.." Kanzaki spoke nervously, tugging herself out of his embrace and standing up with her arms nervously clamped together, "I'm not much for P.E. If I have to do it, I much prefer Mr. Karasuma's class!"
You couldn't help but smile at Kanzaki. Even in such a tense situation she always made sure to remain polite and cheerful as she smiled up to the aggressive teacher.
But as soon as you saw Mr. Takaoka lick his lip you knew this wouldn't end well.
Without hesitation he smacked his hand across her face so hard she flew backwards and rolled against the dirt with a cry.
"Kanzaki!" Your classmates cried as a few rushed over to her trembling figure.
"Looks like we're having a bit of a communication gap!" Mr. Takaoka said with that same dreadfully cheerful smile. The sight made your fists clench, Nagisa already seeming to notice the gears in your head turning as he placed a gentle palm on your wrist.
"The only answer here is yes-"
"NO!"
Your sudden shout caused the teacher to pause, his head tilting as a sadistic smile formed on his lips.
"Oh?"
"You can't keep hurting our classmates just because we don't do what you say. You aren't our real teacher and your training regimen is borderline insane! How are we supposed to pass our exams with your foot up our ass till the late night hours?"
Your teacher simply chuckled as he looked at you with wide crazed eyes through his hooded expression.
"Bothers you that much little grasshopper? Come show me what you're gonna do about it then!"
Letting out an annoyed growl you got low, ready to pounce until Nagisa grabbed your wrist more firmly this time.
"Y/n don't bother, he's going to seriously hurt you! This guy clearly isn't a regular gym coach."
Ignoring what he said, all you could do was glare into this man's beady little eyes that only fueled your fire.
"Let go, Nagisa." You hissed before snatching your wrist out of his grasp and darting forward.
Nagisa along with the rest of your classmates watched nervously. As sweet as you were, some of Karma's reckless traits were really starting to rub off on you. Ever since you all had gotten kidnapped, you swore you would get stronger so you could protect everyone, but of course that didn't stop the class from worrying.
Darting forward you blocked his first swing, quickly maneuvering your footing so that you spun behind him, forming your palm to be firm and flat before chopping your hand on the back of his neck right where the pressure point is.
After watching Nagisa and Karma train together, and even getting to train a little bit with them whenever Karma would finally give in to your whining, you learned a few tricks from both of them.
Nagisa was definitely a defensive fighter, more so focused on strategic attacks and blocking. Karma was a hands on offensive attacker, he wasted no time to give the opponent a moment to think.
Finally it seemed like your training had paid off as Mr. Takaoka let out a shout of pain as he stumbled forward onto his hands and knees, your strike seeming to make his vision blur.
"Nice hit Y/n!" Nakumura shouted, your classmates all cheering for you as you wiped a blade of sweat from your forehead.
"It's just like Karma taught me, it's not about the power of your strike but the precision!" You said with a smile, giving the gym teacher one last glance.
A small part of you felt giddy about the experience as you began to rehearse in your head how you would brag to Karma about taking down a grown man. Finally your training was beginning to pay off.
As you began to walk back to your cheerful classmates you felt life almost go into slow motion when you saw Nagisa's smile begin to drop, his eyes widened as he screamed your name and pointed behind you.
Before you could even turn your head back a quarter of the way you felt a strong grip on the back of your ponytail causing you to yell out in pain when the hand tugged you backwards.
"Not so fast you smug bitch." Mr. Takaoka growled with a psychotic smile as he swung his leg up and over your body before cracking it down on your abdomen hard.
The feeling alone had the breath knocked out of you before you could even hit the ground. You let out a sharp scream until your back hit the ground so hard you bounced up from the sheer force, a garbled choke escaping your lips before you officially fell to the ground.
"Y/n!" Your class shouted, Nagisa already sliding on his knees towards you as you struggled for air, loud chokes and gasps filling the air while you shriveled up holding your abdomen in pain. The lack of air wouldn't even allow you to cry as you felt your vision grow blurry.
Nagisa quickly lifted your shirt just enough to see a dark purple bruise forming across your skin, the feeling of something warm and wet being coughed up onto his hand that was keeping you upright.
His eyes widened at the sight of blood, his eyes frantically looking down at you as more of your classmates began to try and help you up.
How had your cheerful P.E. class turned into a bloodbath?
-
Karma continued to huff out profanities as he shuffled up the dirt hill, hands shoved deep in his pockets as a scowl formed on his lips.
"Dumb angel, always making me feel so damn guilty..." Karma mumbled as he kicked a few stones on the way.
It was weird, before he met you he never really cared about anything when it came to academics. He wasn't even depressed or stupid or even lazy, he just didn't quite care.
Where was school going to get him anyway? Graduate next year and go to college to take the same brainwashing classes he's taken since he learned to walk? To get a piece of paper that says congrats, now you can make money!
It was all ridiculous to him.
But ever since your stupid adorable ass showed up into his life, he saw things differently. 
He wanted to have goals in life just to impress you, he wanted to go to college wherever you were going so you could grow together. He wanted to see the world with you, always be at your side so he would never lose you.
He could see it now, both of you finally done with all this school bullshit and sitting along the edge of a cliff that overlooked a vast blue sea as the sun would set along the dazzling colorful sky.
You would be sitting in between his crossed legs as he held you in a tight warm embrace.
"I love you Karma." You would whisper ever so gently from those sweet lips of yours as you tilted your head back so your sparkling hues could stare into his own.
Karma would smile down to you, watching as the ocean breeze danced through both of your locks as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"I love you too Y/n." Karma whispered aloud, the sound of his own voice snapping him back to reality as he let out a growl and shook his head.
You were like a demon haunting his mind except quite the opposite, more like an angel from heaven always clouding his mind in the best way possible. You truly were going to be the death of him.
Once finally making it up the hill, Karma came up with the excuse that he forgot his textbook for when his classmates would surely ask why he decided to show up halfway through the day. He would never admit it was just so he could see your pretty face before the day's end.
As he shuffled up the steps lazily he raised a brow when he saw a few students outside, crowded around Mr. Karasuma and some other large man that seemed to be smiling a bit crazy.
Raising a brow he shrugged with a smirk, assuming they were doing some strange training routine.
Sliding the wood door open he walked down the hallway until he saw class 3-E and slid the door open, awaiting to see the rest of his classmates studying silently, only to find the room completely empty.
Freezing he narrowed his eyes around the room, something wasn't right.
There were only about half of his classmates outside training, you not being one of them, where could the rest of you have been? It's not like they split the boys and girls up, he saw a mix of them all outside.
Shutting the classroom door, he decided to make his way back outside until he heard a voice come from down the hall.
"Y/n you have got to stop being so reckless, it's going to get you killed one day!"
The very sentence froze Karma in his tracks, his ears perking up at the sound of your name.
Your weak cough filled the air sending chills down his spine as you spoke up.
"But I..I didn’t die, did I? I had to do something, he was going to hurt all of our classmates!"
The redhead slowly turned his head around with grit teeth, his eyes falling on the door where all the sound was coming from, only to see it was the nurses office.
Karma was praying for his sake and your sake that you just played some crazy prank on someone and that you didn't actually do something reckless. But knowing you, he was sure that wasn't the case.
"So you thought it would be better if he hurt you?" A voice spoke up, "You know Karma's going to kill you for this."
Crescent shaped moons began to form into the redhead’s palms as the very thing he worried about had been confirmed, someone hurt you. Quickly he began to storm down the hallway, ready to slide the door open before he heard your pathetic voice.
"Well I didn't plan on him crushing my spleen," You spoke out stubbornly with another cough, Karma's vision slowly starting to turn red with anger, "Besides, Karma skipped today so Karma will never find out about this. Got it?"
At this Karma froze as a sadistic smile quirked upon his lips, you sneaky little fox.
Putting on the most neutral face he could even amongst his slow boiling anger, he slid the door open causing everyone in the room to jump. His first sight was you, Maehara, and Kanzaki all laying down on the nurse tables. Sugino, Okuda, and Yada were also in the room which must have been the people talking.
"Oh Y/n dearest, am I interrupting something? Sorry I was late for class, just slept through my alarm!" Karma said in a gentle tone, sticking his tongue out to appear innocent.
The sight of your red headed boyfriend caused you to shriek as you forced yourself off of the bed with a grunt. Once you realized standing wasn't quite an option, you leaned on the side of the table, trying to appear as casual as possible. All that silenced your pained whimper was the harsh bite you held on your tongue while you forced a smile.
"K..Karma! I thought uh.. I thought you were skipping today!" You spoke cheekily, though it was clear to everyone how heavy you were breathing. Sugino looked at you nervously to make sure you didn't collapse on the floor as everyone else in the room felt the awkward tension.
Karma smirked down to you, though it wasn’t his signature cocky one, but rather a menacing one as he sauntered over to you.
"Oh you know, I wouldn't want to miss any lessons would I?" Karma spoke darkly, though he kept that same cheerful smile on his face, "Besides I couldn’t possibly make it through the day without a hug from my sweet angel.”
The sound of that caused your eyes to widen, quickly backing up the best you could as he neared you.
"Oh really? I don't know uh.. I'm not quite feeling a hug right now… I'm actually kind of hot!" You exclaimed, your classmates nervously watching as Karma neared you while you ran out of space to back into, "You don't wanna hug all my icky sweat d..do you?"
"Oh, I think I do." Karma growled, forcing his arms around you gently.
Sure enough as soon as he made even the gentlest of contact, you let out a cry as your knees buckled beneath you, Karma quickly caught you before lifting you up on the bed once more.
"Fuck Y/n, do you think I’m an idiot?” Karma growled, grabbing both of your fighting wrists that were trying to push his hands away with one hand, while lifting your shirt up with the other.
Though Karma knew you were injured, he never in a million years expected to see the wound that was displayed across your abdomen. A large maroon bruise stretched from either side of your stomach, the color getting darker at the center.
The redhead let go of your wrists so as not to hurt you any further, deciding to instead grip the edge of the metal bed, the sound of the cool material bending sending chills through your body.
"Who did this?" Karma growled, looking up at you through rageful hooded eyes.
Swallowing nervously you quickly placed both of your hands on either side of his shoulders, remembering how violent he got last time you got kidnapped, he couldn't have you killing your actual teacher, he would surely get expelled.
"Karma calm down, it's seriously not as bad as it looks I promise-"
The sound of his fist slamming down on the table beside you caused you to jump with a small yelp, his pupils narrowed to slits as he angrily glared at you.
"Damnit Y/n, stop trying to be the hero and tell me who did this! It looks like they crushed one of your fucking organs!"
"They made her cough up blood too." Yada spoke from over your shoulder, your head quickly whipping back to glare at her as her comment only fueled your boyfriend's raging mood.
Inhaling sharply, Karma tried to calm himself down so as not to yell at you before looking at you once more.
"Y/n, tell me who did this to you."
Biting at the corner of your lip you let out a defeated sigh and looked away sheepishly.
"We got a new P.E. teacher today, Mr. Takaoka, and he seemed really nice and cheerful... he even brought us treats!" You exclaimed trying to defend your reasoning, "B..But then when he showed us our new training schedules he took out all of our academic classes and was going to make us stay till nine pm everyday."
The sound of that made Karma raise his brow briefly, even to him that made no sense.
"So a few classmates expressed that to him, Maehara and Kanzaki..." You said softly, Karma just now noticing his two other injured classmates that only made him angrier, "But he lashed out and attacked them brutally… He was going to hurt every last one of them if I didn't step in, I swear I wasn't being reckless Karma I just…"
Karma's stern expression broke for a second when he heard you choke over words, you looked down before looking back up with glossy eyes once more.
"I couldn't just stand by again!"
The redhead flinched slightly at this, flashbacks to your conversation after you had gotten kidnapped flooding back to him. Of course you weren't being an idiot like him, you just wanted to protect your friends.
The redhead looked up to the ceiling in a poor attempt to hide the insane rage in his eyes, a ragged sigh escaping his lips before he looked down at you softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your thigh.
"So what you're saying is I need to put an old fuck in his place then, yeah?"
Your eyes widened at this as you watched him stroll out of the nurse's office, you quickly tried to follow after him but not before falling into Okuda's arms.
"Y/n you really shouldn't move..." Okuda said softly as you wrapped your arm around her shoulder.
Looking down at the gentle girl pleadingly, you glanced back at the door, "Okuda please, Karma can't fight that guy, he's going to get hurt!"
Okuda bit her lip before looking at her other classmates that shared worried looks.
"Let's all go out together so we can at least warn Mr. Karasuma and Korosensei."
-
Karma being "mad" was an understatement.
Admittedly he did snap at you which he certainly didn't mean to, but now he was angry for a different reason.
Like hell was some old fashioned pig of a man going to throw his classmates around. Especially after you still were recovering from the kidnapping scenario. He was getting so excited to see your combat skills were vastly improving, so to see you torn back down to square one royally pissed him off.
Slamming the door open he noticed a few eyes on him, but most of them were on the large teacher that was nestled in between Nagisa's legs. Karma’s eyes widened for a moment, impressed that Nagisa was able to take down such a beast.
Clearly the blue haired boy had gotten stronger, and he was sure Nagisa felt just as much rage as him after seeing you in such a state. Still though, he noticed the large teacher get up once Nagisa let go so he knew this wasn't quite over yet.
Soon after Karma began to head to the scene you and your other injured classmates slowly made your way outside, the sight of Karma getting closer to the man causing you to freeze.
Of course Karma could take care of himself, hell you wouldn't be surprised if he could take this man out with his bare fists alone, but it was clear Mr. Takaoka wasn't a fair fighter. Karma was skilled, but he couldn't be prepared if the crazed man pulled a gun on him.
You attempted to call out Karma's name but he pretended not to hear you as he walked to the scene.
Looking around you quickly shouted Mr. Karasuma's name, his concerned eyes moved over to you before looking over to an angry Karma as you pointed to him. Mr. Karasuma gave you a curt nod in understanding.
At this point all you could do was watch the scene play out and hope nobody else got hurt.
"You ungrateful punks." Mr. Takaoka growled, his fists clenched and his body flexed like he was a giant bear, "You think it's fun shaming your father figure, huh?
A pit sat in the bottom of your stomach. Even as beat up as Mr. Takaoka looked, he was still screaming his head off. The expression of pure rage he wore while looking at Nagisa made it look like he was going to rip his head off.
"Having the time of your life pretending you won? Hope it was worth it cause daddy's about to rip you apart! Mind body and soul-"
All of the students began to yell for Nagisa to move, Mr. Karasuma ready to run and stop this crazed man's punch, but Korosensei simply placed his tentacle on Mr. Karasuma's shoulder to hold him back.
Mr. Karasuma angrily looked back at Korosensei in confusion as to why he stopped him, but when a crack filled the air all eyes worriedly looked over to Nagisa.
Once the dust cleared up from the dirt beneath him, everyone gasped in surprise when they saw an unharmed Nagisa with his arm defensively up. If he didn't get hit then what was the cracking sound?
Sure enough the class' crazy redhead stood before Mr. Takaoka, his meaty fist caught by Karma's hand.
Mr. Takaoka let out a grunt of surprise, seeing that his quivering fist stood no chance against Karma’s simple block. To make matters worse, Karma lazily smirked up to the man and let out a sneer.
"Is that all you've got, old man?"
Mr. Takaoka began to shake in fury as he ripped his hand from Karma's grasp.
"Why you little-"
The gym teacher began to throw another fist with much more force, but Karma simply caught it once again and used the force to swing his arm around and pin it against his back so that he couldn't move.
"Nobody likes a sore loser~" Karma cooed tauntingly before his foot connected with Mr. Takaoka's spine, the kick pummeling the teacher into the ground as his face dragged against the dirt.
Everyone watched with wide eyes. No matter how many times they saw Karma in action, everyone seemed to forget his own raw strength beyond his insane ability.
You finally let out a sigh of relief you didn't realize you were holding in this entire time as you watched Karma walk beside the teacher.
Mr. Takaoka attempted to lift his head weakly from the ground, still mumbling out profanities but Karma simply grabbed the base of his skull and slammed his face into the dirt before moving his face real close to the teachers.
The P.E. teacher felt fear flow over his body, the same way he did when Nagisa made his cheap move on him in their previous fight. The red haired boy practically stared into his soul with those sinister golden hues that looked almost excited to have him in such a degrading position.
"Tell me Mr. Tough Guy," Karma spoke calmly before roughly yanking Mr. Takaoka's head to face you and your injured classmates, "Were you the one that harmed my classmates over there?"
The teacher let out a grunt through his teeth, words struggling to form to his lips out of a mix of pain and anger.
Karma simply laughed, sending chills to those around him as he yanked the man's head to face Karma once again, making sure to tug harshly on his hair making Mr. Takaoka scream out in pain.
"I said.." Karma growled with narrowed eyes, "Did you lay even a single finger on my angel over there?"
Mr. Takaoka narrowed his eyes back to Karma, a slight grin coming on his face when he realized where all the anger was bubbling up from within the redhead. Making eye contact with you for a second he let out a choked out laugh before nodding.
"I sure did, and I regret noth-"
The teacher couldn't get out another word before Karma slammed his head directly into the dirt.
"Then you can stay there like the filthy mut you are, teach!" Karma exclaimed with a smile, not even caring to hear what else the man had to say as he stood up and walked back to his silent classmates.
Even after all of that the teacher tried his very best, though wasn't very successful, to get back up to which didn't go unnoticed by Karma.
"Hmmm.." Karma said as if in thought before his eyes fell on Nagisa, "Hand me the knife Nagisa."
The blue haired boy knew better than to question Karma in this state so he handed the knife over, though as Mr. Karasuma yelled for him to stop he soon regretted it.
Karma simply ignored their cries and before they could reach him he threw the knife with such precision it landed directly in the center of Mr. Takaoka's palm causing him to cry out in pain.
"Just so you don't get any ideas of getting up champ." Karma spoke as he patted the man's cheek before standing up and brushing his hands off.
Everyone seemed to let out a sigh when realizing Karma was done. Even with the damage done, his classmates were expecting a much more violent scene to play out, so this was the best outcome that could have happened.
Not even a few moments later as Mr. Karasuma dealt with Mr. Takaoka, the principal himself came down to lead the teacher off the premises. The students were surprised to see the principal take their side for once, but he did once again remind them that he cared about academics above all else.
For now, it was a win for Class 3-E, and the class treated it as such.
Of course both Korosensei and Mr. Karasuma scolded Karma for his dangerous behavior, but given the bizarre situation he got off with a warning. Both knew how possessive he got with you and Korosensei especially knew it came out of a place of concern.
As Mr. Karasuma walked off to check on the other students, Karma moved to go meet with you and Nagisa, only for a tentacle to stop him.
"Y/n truly held her ground you know." Korosensei spoke, Karma freezing as he looked up to his teacher that was already looking at you.
"She kept up with him easily for a few minutes and was able to get him down on his hands and knees, your training with her is really paying off."
Karma glanced from Korosensei back to you as a proud smile flashed across his face. Even with your grotesque injury, you were joking around with your friends, a smile on your face even with the intense day you had.
"I'm really proud of her." Karma spoke simply, those words filling Korosensei's heart up with hope.
"With that said, though she has a lot left to learn from you, don't forget to also keep learning from her."
At this Karma looked up to Korosensei with a raised brow.
"What do you mean?"
"As much as you hate to admit it, Y/n has changed you for the better Karma. You may claim she's made you weaker, but she's truly made you stronger. You aren't as reckless and careless anymore. You truly care for your classmates and want not only the best for them, but the best for yourself."
Korosensei looked down to Karma, who for once all day was speechless.
"You two are going to build each other up into the best individuals you can be, so keep learning from each other young man."
Karma looked back at you with furrowed brows. How did this damned octopus always know exactly what Karma was thinking, but was too embarrassed to say out loud? Hearing it come from Korosensei really made the redhead feel better, but of course he would never admit that.
"Alright alright you big sap, thanks for the advice but it's nothing I didn't already know," Karma spoke as he rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, "Trust me Y/n is going to learn real well from me, she'll be my sweet little assassin by my side in no time."
Korosensei smiled at that until he noticed Karma pull out the knife from before as he flipped it around his fingers.
"And you'll be our first target teach~"
Korosensei began to go off in a frenzy, trying to grab the knife from Karma but to no avail as the boy walked off snickering.
-
For some reason unlike the first traumatic event you had with your classmates, this one didn't hit you as hard as usual. Sure you wished you didn’t have to endure that, the wound across your gut proving that point, but at the same time you felt so warm and safe being surrounded by your friends.
You've learned so much within your time here and it wasn't even the end of the first semester.
"Uh oh, red devil alert." Nagisa spoke nervously, your eyes falling on Karma as he sauntered over to you with an emotionless expression.
Sheepishly looking away you played with your fingers, refusing to look into those disapproving eyes as you awaited the sure lecture he would give you.
Once you heard him sit beside you, you raised a brow when no words came out of his mouth. Just before you could lift your head up, you felt gentle fingers grab your chin and tug your lips towards his own.
The kiss was unlike his usual ones, but not foreign to you. It wasn’t rough or rushed, but rather sweet and coordinated. The redhead kept your chin in his hold even after pulling away, his eyes glancing down to meet your nervous gaze.
"What you did today was crazy and not well thought out," Karma started, his brows furrowing together as he looked at you intensely before a small smile appeared on his lips, "But it was also very brave of you. I'm proud of you for sticking up for your classmates."
For a moment your brain shut off. The words "I'm proud of you" sounded foreign in general, let alone coming from your stubborn boyfriend himself.
Once you processed what was said you couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks as your lips rose into the prettiest smile Karma had ever seen in his life. Quickly you gather Karma into your arms, the boy taken aback before welcoming your warm embrace into his arms.
"Thank you Karma." You whispered into his chest, appreciating his new found trust and proudness in you.
This wasn't the same Karma you met when you got here, but you're so happy with how much you've both grown.
"She did totally kick ass Karma." Nagisa said with a grin, the redhead pulling away from you just so he could look at his friend, "She straight up spun behind that guy and before he could even process it, she cracked him right in the back of his neck, it was insane!"
"Oh did she now?"
Smiling wider, you looked over to Karma with a grin as you slowly got up on your knees, grunting a bit as you were trying to be careful not to strain your abdomen.
"I did! He was all like ‘woah where did she go’,” You spoke, mocking the large man’s voice as you knit your brows in an attempt to look scary, “And I was all like, ‘surprise!’ before I chopped down on his neck.”
Karma watched your movements with a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement and pride as you explained your tactics.
“He was totally knocked out for like… a few seconds at least.” You said with a pant, smiling down to the two boys that watched with matching smiles.
Karma couldn’t help but snort at your final pose, his arms grabbing the back of your thighs and gently lifting you into his lap, so as to not agitate your wound any further..
"Of course my sweet angel kicked his ass, she learned from the best after all~" Karma said with a cocky grin, Nagisa giving an unimpressed brow raise as you stuck out your tongue to him.
You all joked around until the class seemed to finally calm down, all of you eating the sweet treats Mr. Takaoka brought before he went psycho on you all.
It wasn't until you hummed against Karma's chest that he felt a sense of deja vu. 
There you were, nestled between his crossed legs, your body cuddled up against his warm embrace as you nibbled on the flakey pastry in your hand.
Looking practically upside down backwards to Karma you stared into his beautiful golden eyes before offering a sweet smile, your lips quite literally covered in white powder from your pastry.
"I love you Karma." You whispered softly, giggling when Karma placed a quick kiss on your lips, only for his tongue to swipe those plush lips of yours to get the remaining powder from them.
Sure you weren't overlooking the large ocean on a dramatically beautiful cliff, and there were a few additions to the picture that Karma could've gone without. But he wouldn't have had it any other way.
"I love you too Y/n."
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