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#did take me a good amount of time to realize that this could be seen as mobius undressing him
imagines-ahs · 3 days
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Chapter Forty-Eight: Bisque.
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Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.
Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes​ @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie​ (message me to be added if interested!)
“Affection memories are the best kind,” Billie’s words came as soft as melted butter. “How old were you?”
I’m not sure I have many of those. “Six.”
“I wish I could have seen young Wilhemina eating cheesecake for the first time.” The corners of Billie Dean’s sparkled lightly. Venable couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as she took another bite.
“Do you have any pictures from when you were young?”
Even though the question seemed a little odd, Billie had learned not to judge. It was safe to say their experiences in life had been very different, even though they shared their fair amount of similarities. She nodded as she took a bite. “I do. Why?”
Wilhemina shrugged. “I’d like to see them… sometime. If that’s alright with you.”
“Of course.” Weird. But it made sense… Billie did want to see younger Venable, too.
Wilhemina nodded slowly as she looked down at her plate. I think I might have a few pictures from school… Granted, she had always hated taking pictures. Brown eyes moved back up to Billie Dean, and a small smile graced Venable’s features as she realized the small amount of cream cheese on Billie’s face. “Your chin,” she said softly.
“Hm?”
“You have cream cheese on your chin.”
“Oh.” Billie let her fork go and reached for a napkin. She chuckled as she wiped her face clean. “Thank you.” Embarrassing.
“Of course.” I can’t believe the nerve of her to look good even with cream cheese on her face.
Carefully taking one last bite, Billie Dean set her plate aside. She licked her lips and made sure no bits were left on her cheeks. Venable still savored the dessert, and so honey eyes watched her. In no time, they were back at the living room with the dishwasher all loaded and running. Purpura sleepily watched them from her spot at the center table.
“That was good,” Billie sat back down at the couch, right beside Wilhemina, whom nodded.
“When did you first find out you had a talent for finding good food?” Venable teased as she leaned back against the couch. Billie Dean let out a small chuckle. Is it safe to feel that comfortable around her? That was a constant doubt in her mind.
“I think it’s a talent only for you.” She reached for one of Venable’s legs, hand resting on her knee and caressing it on top of the pants.
Wilhemina smiled to herself. Floratta Blue permeated her house in comforting tones of coral. “If you say so…”
“Mhm.” Leaning closer, Billie kissed Wilhemina’s cheek before resting back on the couch.
With the corners of her eyes sparkling lightly, Venable turned her head to stare at Billie Dean. The caresses on her leg no longer felt foreign. Such a short time… Things with Emma had taken so long so develop to whatever it had been. How was any of that even happening with Billie? “Will you help me set my iPad?”
“Of course.”
Afternoon dawned and night arrived pretty fast. Shades of orange invaded the living room as Billie Dean was just done helping Wilhemina set everything, and then Venable got up to turn the light on. The iPad now lay charging on the corner table, already with the purple case on and a few apps installed. Honey eyes watched as Wilhemina caressed Purpura on her way back to the couch, and as she was about to comment on her trousers, her phone began to ring from her purse. Brown eyes moved to hers. Billie Dean bit her lower lip and wished the name on the screen didn’t start with the letter ‘E’—thankfully, it didn’t. “It’s Jenny,” she told Venable before walking to the bathroom, receiving a nod back. Closing the door, Billie quickly picked it up. “Hello?”
“Stop ignoring my texts!” From the other side, Jenny yelled teasingly.
“I’m not!” Billie said with a chuckle. “I just haven’t been around my phone today.”
“Oh! Oh—oh! You’re at her house?!”
Laughing, Billie Dean moved to sit down on the closed toilet lid. “Yes, I am.” Her words were quiet, low.
“Did you spend the night? Oh, of course you did!”
Billie couldn’t help but find Jenny’s excitement funny. “I did, but nothing happened.”
“How come?”
“We’re going slow.”
“Did you make out at least?”
“Jenny!”
“Come on!”
Smiling to herself, Billie Dean nodded on the phone. “Yes…”
“So she does have feelings for you, huh?”
“… yes.”
“Where’s my ‘You told me, Jenny. You’re always right, Jenny. I should give you a raise, Jenny.’?”
“Shut up!” Billie chuckled yet again, hearing as the girl did the same on the other side of the phone. After a moment, she bit her lip. Their laughs died down. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” Jenny’s voice came softly, now. “On a more serious note, is everything alright? Is she treating you well and not like she’s made out of ice?”
Billie Dean shook her head. “She’s the sweetest, Jenny…”
“If you say so.”
“Truly.”
“I believe you.”
Billie licked her lips as she thought. “Was Emma alright? Yesterday, when you dropped her home?”Silence. Billie Dean felt Jenny shifting on the other side of the line. Oh no.
“She was just drunk. Do you really want to talk about her now?”
“She said something about Terry, didn’t she?”
Jenny took a deep breath. Billie gulped. “She said a lot of things…”
“Jenny…”
“Yes. She did talk about Terry.”
“Fuck,” Billie breathed out. Closing her eyes, she reached to massage her temple. “What did she say?”
“I don’t remember exactly—or rather, I didn’t understand it very well— but it was something that had to do with telling Wilhemina about her.” Billie Dean groaned. “She was drunk and very much mad at you, I doubt she’ll do anything,” Jenny tried to amend. It didn’t help much.
“She thinks she knows what happened, and she’s assuming that’s what I am doing with Wilhemina.”
“Yeah…”
“That’s not it, Jenny. Terry wasn’t even fired because of that!” Her voice raised a little. Billie quickly took notice of it and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.
From the other side, Jenny gulped. “I know, Billie… but you do know that a few people can’t help but make that connection, right?”
Billie Dean took a deep breath. “Yes…” And it fucking sucks. Just another thing people assumed about her life, as if she didn’t have enough of that already.
“Have you told her about it?”
“Wilhemina?”
“Yes.”
“No… not yet.” Honey eyes fell down. Billie sucked on her lower lip. “I think it’s too soon.”
“Billie, it’s either you telling her or her possibly finding it out through Emma… and I really don’t think you’d like the latter.”
“I know,” Billie Dean murmured. “What else did she tell you?”
“She just cried a lot… and called you a bunch of names.”
“Fair,” she murmured again.
“Not really, but we’ll not dwell on that right now.” Billie nodded to herself. “Are you spending the weekend there?”
“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, Billie Dean sat up a little better. “Why?”
“Just asking. The reports about the party should be out on Monday, and we need to approve the pictures for the special.”
“Right. You can ask them to e-mail me the material.” I desperately need a break from working. The end of the year was always hectic for Billie Dean.
“Already did. They’re waiting on an answer until Monday, noon.”
“Perfect. We can do it in the morning, then.”
“Mhm.”
“Do I need to do anything this weekend?” Billie had found Jenny’s question a little odd, so it was always best to ask.
“Not really. I was just curious about you and her,” the girl chuckled.
“Oh.” Chuckling back, Billie got up from the lid. That’s good at least. “I’ll tell you more on Monday.”
“Good. I’ll be waiting excitedly as the reason for all of that to be happening I am.”
“Silly,” Billie Dean teased back. “Alright, I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Alright. Have a good weekend, wink wink.”
“You too, you annoying human.” With both of them laughing, Billie ended the call. She looked up to the mirror and fixed her clothes and hair, eyes glued on herself. She sighed. She’ll think I do that with everybody. Maybe that talk could wait until Monday… or at least until tomorrow. Billie Dean decided she wouldn’t think about it now. At least not for the night. She still had another whole day before the next week, after all.
Quietly stepping out of the bathroom, Billie Dean walked back to the living room; she didn’t find Venable there. “Wilhie?”
“In the bedroom,” Venable called back.
Quietly still, Billie Dean followed that way. As she got to the room, her eyes were graced with the lovely image of Wilhemina, sitting on the bed with Purpura and a tube of lotion by her side. Lavender notes invaded her nostrils. Billie smiled. “Are you moisturizing her?” She remembered Venable had said something about it, once.
Wilhemina nodded. She reached for more of the lotion and gently caressed the cat’s back, which purred lowly. “Winter makes her skin drier.”
“She’s so well behaved.” Carefully, Billie sat down beside Wilhemina. She watched as her hands worked on Purpura, so gentle and caring. And with such long and dainty fingers… not now. Billie Dean licked her lips and looked back up at Venable, watching the way she was so absolutely focused on the cat, with lips curling up and eyes so soft above the sky of freckles there. To be loved by her must be holy. She could only wish to experience that one day. “Can I help?”
Taken positively aback, deep brown eyes met honey ones. “To moisturize her?” Billie nodded. Venable opened a smile. “Of course.” She reached for the lotion and pushed it closer to Billie Dean. “Here. Her chest is missing still.
“Okay.” As gentle as she could, Billie Dean scooped a small amount of lotion on her fingers and began to caress the cat’s chest, right underneath her neck. Purpura purred a little louder, shifting on the mattress to accommodate the hand. Billie smiled, and as she looked up at Wilhemina, their eyes and smile met again. Air seemed scarce all of a sudden. I want to give her the world.
I love her. When had anyone ever treated Purpura like that? When had anyone wanted to be a part of her life like that? How scary? How good? How foreign? “She likes it,” Wilhemina said, voice as soft as melted butter. “She likes you.”
With a tiny chuckle, Billie Dean used all of her strength to take her eyes off of Venable and look back at the cat. “I like her, too.” With her free hand and mindful of her nails, she reached to pet the cat’s head. Purpura leaned against it, eyes closed. Another chuckle left Billie’s lips.
With her teeth trapping her lips in order not to allow them to smile too big, Wilhemina kept on watching them. She pulled her hands away and wiped them on a towel she had taken, cleaning them of the lotion. After a minute or two, she spoke again. “Thank you for being so nice to her…”
“Of course,” Billie Dean’s eyebrows drew closer in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Venable shrugged. My mind clearly works wrong. “It’s just that… a few people can be mean because of—of how she looks.” Just like they are to me. She nervously licked her lips. “You know… the skin.”
Billie’s frown grew for a second until she understood just how deep the topic actually was. Her eyes reflected nothing but kindness now. “There’s nothing wrong with how she looks, Wilhie… and even if there were, quote on quote, something wrong about her, that wouldn’t be an excuse for people to treat her in any way but kind.” Gulping again, Wilhemina nodded. She took a discrete deep breath and clutched the small purple towel on her lap. Billie Dean took notice of it. She’s nervous. With her own heart picking up slightly in speed, Billie looked down at the cat for a second before looking back up at Venable. Her lips curled up on the corners. “Besides, I think she looks really cute.”
This time, it was Wilhemina who looked away from Billie Dean. Her cheeks tinted softly. The underlying tone of their conversation was very much explicit. “R-really?”
“Oh, yeah.” She knows I’m talking about her. There was no need to point that out. Billie had been learning compliments and words of affirmation were better left in the murky, at least for now. “More than cute, I think she’s beautiful.” Clutching the towel in her hands a little harsher, Venable nodded quietly. She slowly looked back up, and when her eyes met honey ones again, she found a look in them that left her warm all over, sweet all over, comforted all over. Billie Dean’s smile grew lovingly, pouring affection all over. Carefully not to disturb Purpura, Billie scooted closer to Wilhemina, hand reaching to cup one of her cheeks—slowly, so she could ask her to stop if she wanted. She didn’t. Billie Dean’s thumb caressed the plump crimson skin with so much tenderness it nearly hurt. Venable sighed lowly. “You’re beautiful, Wilhemina,” she whispered, voice as soft as a cozy blanket and as sweet as honey. She could feel Venable’s breath against her lips, faster than usual and oh so inviting. So she kissed her, slow and gentle and affectionate.
With blood rushing up to her head, Wilhemina felt her hands trembling against the cloth. She did the best she could and let go of it, reaching to caress Billie’s arm as she kissed her back. Their lips danced slowly and passionately, and for a split second Venable felt herself losing touch with the parts that could be so damn horrible to her. Her lips picked up in intensity, and she subconsciously scooted closer to Billie Dean, too. Purpura meowed from between them, therefore causing the kiss the break. Wilhemina took a deep breath as she stared at Billie’s eyes, lips rosy and tingling deliciously. Billie Dean watched her closely, thumb still tracing Venable’s cheek. I’m terrified things will change. Reality set back in. Wilhemina gulped. “I’m n-not used to that…”
“Compliments?” Venable nodded. I know. Billie smiled sadly. “Any chance I can help you get used to them?”
With her cheeks still red and hot, Wilhemina bit her lower lip. Hesitantly, she nodded. “It might take a while…” It might never happen at all.
With the softest smile she could manage, Billie Dean reached to tuck a lock of red hair behind Venable’s ear. “That’s okay,” she whispered. Billie felt as dark brown eyes fell down to her lips, so she leaned closer and kissed Wilhemina again, which got herself a sweet sigh. Billie Dean pulled away just enough to stare at Venable. “I’m not in a rush.” She had said that already, about many things, but she would never grow tired of easing Wilhemina’s mind.
And yet again, there she was… bare, raw in front of Billie. Vulnerable, and yet she didn’t feel so scared. That’s scary. Would that become something usual for her?
Sunday morning arrived as sweetly as the past night had been; Wilhemina found herself falling asleep tangled in Billie Dean’s arms again, this time receiving kisses on the forehead until she, eventually, allowed sleep to win. When the first ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains, their limbs were still tangled and their skin was still warm from their embrace. It was Venable who opened her eyes first, eyebrows close as she frowned from the light. When her vision wasn’t so blurry anymore, Wilhemina focused on whatever was in front of her—it happened to be Billie, still fast asleep and with her lips inches away from her own. She took a deep breath. I kissed her. Venable licked her own chapped lips, body falling slowly into reality as it got aware of its position: legs tangled with Billie Dean’s, an arm that wasn’t its own wrapped around her waist, feet touching, blonde hair tickling her face. How lovely was it, to not wake up alone? To not always be by herself? Wilhemina took another deep breath, brown oceans examining the face in front of hers. Is she even real? Venable still had her doubts. Billie frowned as a strand of her own hair tickled her face, nose scrunching up. Wilhemina smiled to herself and reached to pull the strand of hair away and behind Billie Dean’s ear. As she pulled her hand away, she couldn’t help but brush her knuckles against Billie’s face, caressing her peachy skin. I shouldn’t be so attached already. How could she not? When that woman treated her and made her feel a way she had never experienced before? Venable watched as Billie Dean began to slowly open her eyes. She smiled sleepily to herself.
Letting out a small sigh, Billie hummed as her vision came into consciousness, body snuggling closer to whatever was providing it warmth. Lavender soon clouded her senses, and so Billie Dean finally fixated on the face in front of her. Her lips mirrored Wilhemina’s sleepy smile. Was she watching me? “Hi,” Billie croaked out, as sweet as she could manage in her state.
“Hello.” Venable’s smile grew as her cheeks began to tint for some reason. Down her legs, she felt as Billie Dean’s foot caressed her own. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Billie shook her head before hiding her face against the pillow to cover a yawn. Her hand reached for Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her closer. “You didn’t.” She looked back at dark brown eyes. “I wouldn’t have minded if you had, though.”
Venable nodded at the words as spidery fingers slowly moved up to cup Billie Dean’s cheek. Wilhemina just stared at her for a minute before taking a deep breath. “I like waking up next to you,” she whispered. I didn’t know not being alone could ever feel this way.
Coral fingernails scratched softly against the cloth of Venable’s purple pajamas, caressing her waist and the small of her back. Billie Dean leaned closer and kissed her gently on the lips. I hope my breath is tolerable. “I like waking up next to you, too,” she whispered back. Wilhemina stared at her like she was made of all the stars in the universe, eyes shining and all. Billie couldn’t help but pull her even closer, and this time Venable’s hand fell down to her waist and pulled her closer, too. Their bodies left no space between each other, breaths mingling. “I sleep pretty well when I’m with you… you’re warm and you don’t snore,” she teased.
Chuckling lowly, Wilhemina bit her lip to stop her smile from growing too much. “Why, thank you. I could say the same, but your feet are freezing,” she teased back, because being playful didn’t come with a sentence of being punished when it came to Billie Dean.
With a laugh, Billie made sure her feet were well tangled with Venable’s. “I don’t know why they’re so cold.”
Wilhemina hummed. She reached for the hand that caressed her waist and tangled her fingers with Billie Dean’s. “So is your hand.” She caressed the cold digits between her own, trying to warm them up. “Are you cold?”
“Not really.” Billie licked her lips, and part of her heart still melted every time she was reminded of how just how caring Venable was with her. “Are you?”
“No,” Wilhemina shook her head. She let go of Billie Dean’s hand and now caressed her arm, even though Billie had said she wasn’t cold. Billie Dean didn’t mind, not at all. She kept a smile printed on her lips. “Are you hungry?” I should have bought some pastries.
“A little.”
“I can cook us an omelette, or maybe I can go out and get a few pastries, if you’d like. There’s this—“
“Wilhie,” Billie Dean cut Venable gently just as she was about to start lifting the covers to get out of bed. Wilhemina looked at her. “Can we cuddle a little?”
With her cheeks turning purple, Venable nodded. She blinked twice before slowly snuggling closer to Billie again. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Billie Dean shook her head. Hadn’t it been Wilhemina, she could have thought that maybe there was something wrong with her, but being Venable, she knew she was simply eager to please. “You don’t have to apologize,” she whispered back. Her hand found its place on Wilhemina’s waist again, caressing it. She’s always so anxious.
With a nod, brown eyes fell down. Venable took a deep breath. I’m so idiotic. The deprecating voice was already up and running. She gulped and looked back at honey oceans, legs tangling back with Billie’s. After a moment, she spoke again. “I like cuddling with you,” she said, because part of her felt like Billie Dean could maybe be thinking otherwise, and she didn’t want to ever cause Billie Dean to think like that.
She’s worried. Opening a smile, Billie reached to pull a strand of read hair away from Venable’s eyes. “I know, darling. I didn’t think otherwise.”
Darling. Wilhemina didn’t know if her stomach would ever stop turning with the pet name. This is the second time she’s called me that. How delicious did it feel? “Good,” she murmured somewhat shyly.
Billie Dean hummed back, hand caressing her waist slowly, feeling as it rose and fell with Venable’s breathing. She stared at those chocolate eyes in front of her, watching the way they moved away and back to her own. She’s shy. Her lips curled up softly. “Did you dream of anything?”
Wilhemina shook her head, eyes struggling to stay at brown ones. “Not that I remember. Did you?”
Billie Dean had actually had a dream; she saw a woman, hair red just like Venable’s, face full of suffering and with lines well marked. She cried, but couldn’t speak. Wilhemina didn’t need to know that. “Not really.” Venable hummed. Billie licked her lips, eyes tracing the soft freckles on Wilhemina’s cheeks. “I love your freckles,” she said after a second.
To be stared at like that had never felt good… not until Billie Dean. Venable’s skin grew red still, but not from being uncomfortable. “I’m not a huge fan of them…”
What’s new? Wilhemina didn’t seem to be a huge fan of anything that made her who she was. Billie didn’t need to point that out, but she did keep that in mind. “You always cover them, don’t you?” Venable nodded. Billie Dean opened a sad smile. “I love them,” she repeated.
Wilhemina gulped. She nodded again, eyes falling down before going back up. She licked her sudden dry lips. “Thank you.”
Billie couldn’t help but smile a little more. It was clear Venable wasn’t used to being complimented, or having any kind of intimacy with people, but there was something so sweet about it… so strangely pure, in a way. Most people wouldn’t see it that way, but Billie Dean had never been most people. So she leaned closer and placed a small kiss on Wilhemina’s nose, and then another one on her left cheek, and another one on her right one, right on top of the freckles. Wilhemina blinked twice, and with a chuckle Billie Dean kissed her full on the lips, reaching to cup her face.
Sunday went by with nothing but sweet kisses being shared and a movie or two being watched. When the night began to fall down again, Billie Dean hesitantly went back home, but with the promise of seeing each other on Monday morning. Billie knew she should have talked about Terry; knew she should have brought it up before anyone else had the chance, but how could she when Venable looked at her so lovingly and gave her more trust than she had ever given anyone in a long time? Billie Dean simply didn’t have the guts to do it. And she prayed no one would before she could master the courage to do so.
At night, Wilhemina caught herself missing the warmth of another body next to her. Floratta Blue lingered in the air only slightly, and Venable wished she could smell more of it. Fear clouded her senses before sleep could, trying to trick her, trying to scare her. Wilhemina closed her eyes and thought about Billie; about the kiss they shared just before she entered her car and drove home that evening. Nothing would change in the morning. Nothing would change in the week. Right?
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hansoeii · 3 months
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need some help with that?
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thethingswedotomorrow · 6 months
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Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.
But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.
And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.
One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies
"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."
"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"
"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."
The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire
Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake
As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel
*He did, actually, do that once.
In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes
"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."
Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand
When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area
If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.
Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum
In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention
And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set
But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.
He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation
Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale
Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment
And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else
He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet
He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words
So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent
Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.
He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another
It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing
Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight
But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think
So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day
Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.
But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.
He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.
He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?
He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.
Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor
He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.
But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs
Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.
Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.
And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.
He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.
He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.
And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.
Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.
And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages
Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.
In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago
And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own
And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.
All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.
Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.
But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.
Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.
Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.
He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.
"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"
Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes
"Angel, I-"
That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose
And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him
Very very close
And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.
By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.
He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love
Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.
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literaila · 2 months
Text
keeping secrets
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you and satoru avoid each other
warnings: actual fighting, sad everyone, hurt/little comfort (sorry)
last part | next part
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*
year four.
"did megumi give you a permission slip?" you ask satoru, leaning against the side of the couch, peeking at his phone. "it's for a field trip, but i haven't seen it. he says he set it on the counter." 
satoru glances at you. then back, and shakes his head. 
"he didn't give you anything to sign?" 
"not recently." 
you sigh. "i don't think he lost it." 
satoru's lip quirks. "you think i'm hiding it?" 
"i don't know. did you accidentally eat it?" 
his eyes roll. "i have better taste than that." 
"well, can you help me look for it?" 
satoru sighs, head hanging back for a moment, then he throws his phone down, groaning as he stands up. after he stretches, he half-heartedly moves a pillow, pretending to look under it. 
you snort. 
but satoru doesn't look back at you, and moves to the table, to look at the stack of papers there. 
and, admittedly, things have been a bit off. 
you tried to ignore it at first--ignore the way satoru avoided your eyes, or kept himself five feet away from you at all times. you tried to pretend that it wasn't happening. that he wasn't giving you short responses, or only joking with you in dire moments (like when something you say goes over both of the kid's heads and they stare at you weirdly).
honestly, you hadn't even noticed anything was wrong until you'd realized that it'd been a week since he fell asleep with you. since he even bothered to come out of his room after putting the kids to bed. a week since he tried to squeeze you to death, or grossly kissed your cheek. 
and... it shouldn't be weird.
no rule says that he has to spend a specific amount of time with you, or cuddle in your bed, or smile at you, or... do anything that your best friend probably shouldnt do. 
but it's weird. 
it's strange because your relationship with satoru has stayed relatively consistent, an upward slope for the past six years. you've grown closer, but never farther. 
and, in the depths of your mind, usually when you're lying awake at night, you recognize that there's one single moment when it switched. that everything changed a specific morning, and you haven't been able to rewind it. to take it all back. 
and you could just blame the alcohol for your confession, you probably should. 
but then you'd also have to blame your sixteen-year-old self, the girl who'd been attracted to satoru in the first place. the eighteen-year-old who agreed to tie her life to his and take in the kids, or you now, still cursing yourself for falling in love with him.
it's not like satoru made you. 
if intoxication is to blame, so is your heart, your soul, for starting all of this in the first place. 
you'd decided to not blame anything at all, in the end. everything's fine. 
"find anything?" you ask him, a bit cold in the room, feeling that same tension that's been there. those unspoken words, infinite amounts of distance.
you try to ignore it, really. 
"just the receipt for tsumiki's violin." 
"tsumiki's what?" you ask, blinking at him. 
"i didn't tell you about that?" 
"satoru, you can't just buy them things on a whim--" 
he holds a hand up, stopping you. "she said it was for school," he says, giving you a quick grin. "plus, she's pretty good." 
"there's no way she's good." 
"you'll see," he says, "when we go to her recital." 
"what?" 
satoru shrugs, then he turns around, organizing the piles of papers into neat stacks. it almost makes you want to check him for a spider bite, a fever, remnants of poison. no way your satoru is doing that. 
not that he's yours. he hasn't been yours in years, hasn't been your anything ever. 
"oh, here," he says, eventually, handing you a paper which he already signed--of course--and shaking his head. "museums," he grumbles. 
but he doesn't give you the chance to respond, turning to walk down the hall--towards his room--before you can even chide him for forgetting about it. 
so, yeah. things are fine. 
*
"where's gojo?" megumi asks, as the two of you walk through the door.
the house is empty without satoru there. colder, dimmer. and, of course, there's no one to irritate the boy right when he walks in. 
you try not to wince at the question, or spiral into your own question of 'where's gojo?'
"uh," you lock the door, then unlock it. then lock it again. "he's on another job." 
"again?" 
you give megumi a bland smile, taking his backpack from him. "guess they think he needs more practice," you say, trying to tease. 
it falls flat. 
"did he get in trouble?" 
"i don't know," you shrug. "probably." 
honestly, it's not like you would know anyway. satoru doesn't tell you anything these days. 
it's probably what bothers you the most, because if he's not saying anything, then neither can you. you can't ask him what he thinks about tsumiki's new friend, or if megumi should be eating more, or if you're just making everything up, probably going insane--
"when's he going to be back?" 
"he said probably tomorrow. maybe the day after if it takes longer. i can't remember where they sent him..." 
megumi looks mischievous. his eyes are bright. "so we can make those miso brownies? since he's gone?" 
you laugh, ruffling his hair. "sure, when tsumiki gets home." 
he nods, satisfied, and turns around. then he looks back at you, eyes trailing over your expression. 
megumi looks at you quizzically, like he knows something you don't. "do you miss him?" 
you roll your eyes. "do you miss him, megumi?" 
he doesn't even think about it. "true," he says, then walks into the kitchen, grabbing something from the fridge. 
maybe you miss him, you think, but only a little bit. it's not like he's been gone long. 
just, you know, forever. 
*
"hey," you lean against the desk in the office. satoru must be filling out a report, which should make you blink twice, but really it's him being out in the open that surprises you. 
most days he goes to hide in his room. he locks his door and makes sure that you wouldn't dare to walk through. that you have no means to interrupt his solitude. 
"oh, hey," satoru answers, not bothering to look up at you. his voice is low, familiar, and creates goosebumps on your skin. 
seriously, why is it so cold in this house? 
"i'm surprised those haven't gone missing yet," you gesture toward the papers, trying to be casual.
he snorts. "yaga said that if i lost them again, i was fired." 
"he said that two years ago." 
satoru nods, still scribbling. you want more than anything to just see his eyes for a moment, for him to look at you and grin like you're used to. 
but you know he won't, so you tap your fingers against the desk. "do you have a second?" 
"sure. what's up? megumi do something?" 
"no, the kids are fine, i, um--" you pause. it feels ridiculous to have to ask him this, to not know the answer. it feels ridiculous to be nervous around satoru. you haven't felt anxious, or worried about asking him anything since you were sixteen and realized that it didn't matter. "shoko texted me about that work 'meeting' that's happening on friday. do you want to go to that? i just need to know so i can tell her..." 
"meeting?" 
your smile is teasing, not that he's looking. "i think she meant party." 
"on friday?" 
"yeah. she said that the booze is free, and i think nanami's going, so i thought..." you hint, not even sure what you mean. 
i thought we could talk. i thought we could go together and maybe everything would go back to normal. i thought that we were friends, if anything, and that you cared about me--
satoru hums. "what about the kids?" 
"tsumiki has a birthday party that night, and megumi likes the sitter from last time," you wince at your accidental mention of that night. "or he can come, i guess, but he'd probably hate it." 
satoru snorts, nodding in agreement. you watch his hands freeze, then resume. 
he's thinking the same things you are, you know. he's thinking about how stupid you are, how ridiculous it is to imagine him being in love with you, caring about who you are or how you feel. 
you just know it. 
"so..." you whisper, after a second. "do you want to go?" 
you feel like you're standing on uneven ground. how can this be the only real conversation you've had with satoru this week? 
how can you miss him this much when he's literally right there? 
"i don't--" satoru makes a face, finally looking toward you. he sets down the pen. "i don't think so. but you can go and i can stay here with megumi," he suggests easily like he's not rejecting you. "we can have a guy's night." 
"megumi hates guy's nights." 
satoru has a cheeky grin on, but it's half-hearted. barely there. 
like a glimpse of him in a peephole, a moment where he's not hiding completely from you. 
he doesn't say anything, though. he doesn't even bother to come up with a better excuse. 
it's clear as day that he just doesn't want to hang out with you, even in a crowd of people.
"that's okay," you hum, eventually, trying to keep your voice steady. "i don't really--" 
"no, you should go. you haven't seen nanami in a while. you can have a night out," he says genuinely, but it sounds more like i need a break from you. 
"yeah," you try to laugh. "i--um, okay. if you're sure." 
he nods, looking away again. he hasn't touched you in weeks. your skin is almost molding, going completely stale. "i'm sure. we'll order dinner, so you don't have to worry about the brat complaining." 
"okay." 
"okay," satoru answers, but it doesn't mean anything. 
and it's not okay. 
*
the two of them walk through the door, and megumi looks... pleasant. he's got the makings of a smile on his face, a little jump in his step. 
it's one of the only times you've seen him look like the ten-year-old he is, instead of someone who's concerned about economic collapse. 
it makes you smile a bit, even if just the sight of satoru sends pangs down your chest.
"hey," you say, hand on his head as he lingers by you, eyes meeting yours in greeting. you look to satoru, who's pretending to wipe away a smudge on his glasses. "where were you guys?" 
"we were--" 
"gojo took me to that old hospital by my school," megumi says, "there were cursed spirits hanging outside. he let me and my divine dogs deal with them," he says this almost excitedly--as excited as megumi gets--and you can see it in his eyes. that little twinkle of pride. 
your eyes widen, but you smile, trying to be genuine. it's difficult because you've been lying for weeks. "really?" you ask, trying not to look over at satoru accusingly. "how'd it go?" 
"good," megumi, moves to the sink, washing his hands. "they're getting better at scenting them out. it didn't take long." 
"that's great." 
"megumi didn't need any of my help," satoru adds, giving you a short glance. "he's got good intuition." 
megumi looks at satoru with a glare in his eyes, but you can tell that he appreciates the compliment. 
you can tell that he's completely fine with this, that the two of them are going to act like it's normal, but you can't.
you try to ignore it when megumi looks between you and satoru, a slight furrow in his brows. he knows something wrong, you know. but you're not going to admit that. 
you swallow. "do you have any homework you need to finish, megs?" 
"uh..." he pauses. "i think so. reading?" 
you smile, hand on his back as you lead him out of the room. "okay, how about you go work on that? i need to talk to satoru real quick." 
he nods immediately, looking eager to leave--both the room and the tension. 
as soon as he's gone, you turn to satoru, narrowed eyes as you observe him. he's already smiling because he knows that he's in trouble. because he knows that you're angry. 
because, even if he hasn't actually spoken to you in weeks, satoru has always read you so well. he's always known what you're going to say before you say it. 
but you can't care about it. it doesn't mean anything to him. 
“you can’t do that,” you say, almost whispering. “not without asking me.” 
“i knew you’d say no.” 
you laugh, looking away from him. “exactly.”
“he’s fine,” satoru reassures. he shrugs, because why should he care about your concern? “he did good, and there’s not a scratch on him. i’m sorry for not telling you but—“ 
“no buts, satoru. you can’t take megumi out on missions like he’s a student. he’s not. and you definitely can’t do it without even telling me," there's a burning in your chest. your head is clouded over with anger. 
just looking at him--at his ridiculous smile and stupid perfect face--makes you clench your fists.
how can he stand there and act like you're a team? 
“it’s not a big deal. i was there the whole time—and he didn’t need me.” 
“i don’t care!” 
satoru rolls his eyes, his arms crossed. “i think you’re overreacting.” 
“i’m not," you say, trying to get him to look at you--actually look--but he won't. it makes your chest hurt even more. "you’re not telling me things—fine, whatever, keep whatever secrets you want, gojo. don't bother talking to me. but you can’t keep secrets from me about the kids.” 
“secrets? i’m not—“ 
you shake your head, hands in the air, trying to clear all of it away. you want the past month to go away, the past six years. “megumi’s just a kid. he’s ten. he can’t be going on missions, not until he’s ready.” 
“i think i’ve already proved how ready he is.” 
“well, maybe i'm not ready. he’s a kid.” 
“yeah,” satoru says, obviously. he scoffs. “yeah, he’s a kid. but he’s also a jujutsu sorcerer. you can’t separate the two.” 
his voice is all-knowing and his stance is firm. you know that you won't convince him otherwise--know that he's right, to some degree, but this isn't about megumi. 
this isn't about cursed spirits or jujutsu. 
“yes, you can," you say, clenching your jaw. "he doesn’t need to be seeing that shit right now. not until he decides he wants to. practice his technique with him all you want, but you can’t just take him to exorcise a curse with you.” 
“like i said, he’s fine.” 
“it’s not about that! it’s about you doing something reckless—again—and acting like there aren’t any consequences to your decisions. he’s my son,” you hiss, “he shouldn’t be going anywhere i don’t know about. you shouldn’t be making decisions about him behind my back.”
you shouldn't be pushing me away, you shouldn't be ruining this--
“so you want to lock him up here?" satoru asks, laughing at you. his teeth are sharp and he is still. "you want to take away his ability to defend himself?” 
you scoff. “are you kidding? you think me saying i don’t want you to get him killed is equal to me—“ 
“he was fine. if anything—anything—had been there that megumi couldn’t handle, i would’ve taken care of it. i wasn't going to let anyone touch him. that’s why i was there! and he didn’t even need me," he's boasting, swearing to you--you can feel it as he rolls his eyes at you.
“you know what he needs, satoru? he needs you to treat him like he’s a little boy and not some experiment for you to play with.” 
“i would never—“ 
you cut him off, “bringing him out into the open, where anyone could see him, could hurt him, and making him deal with your cursed spirit is not okay.” 
“i didn’t make him deal with anything," satoru swears, chin up. 
you snort. the two of you are standing in front of each other, arms crossed, head guarded. your muscles are tense like something is about to attack you. “oh, so he asked you to go?” 
“well, no, but—“ 
“then you made him! you put him up against a monster and treated him like a student, like a 16-year-old, and not your son.” 
the words feel nice to say. some version of the truth that's much better than whatever this version is. if satoru won't talk to you, you'll talk for him. 
you'll make every assumption, every bad perception (because he's supposed to keep you from worrying, he's supposed to be there to calm you down, to save you from that spiraling). but if he's not going to try, neither will you. 
satoru’s eyes grow hard. “what?” 
“why can’t you just let him be a kid? why do you have to push him into these things—“ 
“we talked with megumi about who he is,” satoru grinds, “he knows about the privilege of his strength, and the fact that he has to work to use it—“ 
“a ten-year-old shouldn’t have to work for anything!” 
he laughs at you. you can't see his eyes, but you watch his face as he tries to hide his expression, trying to keep his voice low. the kids are still in the house, so you shouldn't be yelling. but you can't bring it in yourself to really care. 
“what do you think the point of him living here was? why do you think we took him in?” 
you gape at him. “are you kidding?” you ask. “are you serious? we took him, and tsumiki, in because you’re responsible for killing their father! because they didn’t have anyone else, and that’s your fault.” 
“you think i don’t know that?” 
“well, i thought you did," you say, stepping away from him. some part of you wants to push him out, make him leave. the other part desperately wants him to stay--to say he's sorry. "but you just said that the only reason megumi is here is so you can teach him! when i agreed to this i thought you were facing the consequences of your actions, doing the right thing for those kids because you could. i thought you wanted to take care of them! to keep them away from our awful, messed up world.” 
satoru is staring at you with his jaw clenched. 
you continue, without consideration for the consequences of your words. “i didn’t think that you only wanted to keep megumi here so you could train him, like a dog.” 
“that’s not what i said.” 
you shake your head, a bitter smile on your face. “well it’s what you meant, and clearly you have no regard for his feelings or the way that curses might affect him—“ 
“don’t act like i did it just to mess with him," he interrupts, harshly. "it’s not a joke. i want him to be strong, i want him to be able to take care of himself—“ 
“and i want him to have a dad who isn’t so selfish!” 
“what?” 
“did you even think about it? what about the nightmares he’s going to have?" you wonder, rhetorically. "what about the fact that he’s different—that he’s already struggling to relate to other kids in school? what about him, satoru? why is it only about you?” 
what about me? you don't say. 
“i didn’t bring him for me—“ 
“you want a replacement. you want someone else to deal with everything, while you sit back and watch. i know what you’re trying to do—“
“really?" he points at you, the other hand clenched in the air. he's laughing again. "you can read my mind? you’ve already been let in on my plans—“ 
“don’t you wish that you’d had the opportunity to be just a kid?” you demand. “don’t you want that for megumi?” 
he shrugs. “sure. but it’s never going to happen.” 
“well, clearly, because you won’t let it.” 
“he gets to be a kid every day. god forbid i take him to see one curse, to understand how to use his powers, to protect himself, and you treat me like i wanted to kill him.” 
you laugh. your mind is a minefield, and everything he says ruins another part of it. 
all you can think about is him, him as a teenager, him with you, telling satoru you love him and him having nothing left to say--
but you scoff again, shoving yourself further away from him. “do you know how many times i’ve wanted to go back to when i was ten and just got to live my life? do you know how often i think about how everything could’ve been different?” 
“this isn’t about us."
“yes, it is. it is, satoru, because i didn’t get that chance and neither did you. and you just took away megumi’s chance.” 
“i didn’t take anything away," he says, softly, like he's trying to convince himself. 
clearly, you've struck a nerve. 
“he’s never going to be able to look at the world normally, but he doesn’t need the burden of saving people before he’s even in middle school.” 
“why is being strong so bad?” satoru asks you, demanding something more. why am i so bad? “why do you treat it like it’s a curse? like it’s going to hurt him?”
“look at you!” you respond. “look at suguru, and me, and shoko! look at any jujutsu sorcerer and ask them if being strong is worth it—is worth screwing your life over.”
satoru looks taken aback. he steps away from you. 
“god, it’s like you think that we’re a different species," you tell him, never having felt like it's more true. "you’re human, satoru. you might be the strongest, but you’re still human, and you still have nightmares like all of the rest of us.” 
he shakes his head at you. 
“why do you want that for megumi? why push him into this right now?” 
“i want him to be able to take care of himself. so that he doesn’t die like our colleagues, so that he doesn’t make the wrong choice like—“ 
he stops, his voice breaking before he can continue. 
and maybe you know what this is really about, but if satoru doesn’t want to tell you how he feels, if he wants to pretend like it doesn’t matter— 
fine. you will too. 
“it wouldn’t make a difference. he’s already—his life is already messed up.” 
satoru looks at you, his eyes ablaze. “don’t you think that if i was him, if i could’ve been stronger, if i could’ve saved all of those people—don’t you think i would do it in an instant? don’t you think i know that because i wasn’t strong enough, people died?” 
this is the thing you've feared since you were eighteen, a brand new person responsible for two little lives. you've feared satoru's moral commitment since before you met him. since you saw him destroy a curse in an instant and realized he was different than everyone else. 
“megumi isn’t you! he doesn’t need to be taught to take on the responsibility of everyone’s lives—“ 
“you can’t say that i’m selfish, that i don’t care, and then say that i care too much,” he says, shaking his head, unable to look at you. 
he hasn't been able to look you in the eye in weeks. 
“you’re both!" you say, almost yelling. "you’re everything. and you don’t think! you haven’t thought for a moment about what megumi might be feeling, who he might want to be—“ 
“and you have? what about what you want him to be?” 
“i want him to be happy! i want him to grow up better than i ever did. i don’t want him chasing a bunch of cursed spirits around on the weekend like it’s a normal thing—“ 
“it is normal. for us, it’s normal. for him, it’s normal.” 
you sigh, a weight on your chest, a burning in your throat. “well, maybe it shouldn’t be.” 
you're not going to start crying now. not with satoru watching, not when he gets to know just how much you care. 
satoru scoffs. “so you’d just have everyone defend themselves--" 
"i don't know how you're arrogant enough to believe that you can save everyone--"
"--you’d just forget that we’re strong for a reason, that we--“ 
“but you’re never going to be strong enough, satoru. never.” 
satoru stares at you. he doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t hesitate, and doesn’t bother to argue. 
and after a moment he turns around. you reach your hand out to grab him--hold onto him and keep him here, because this isn't finished, and you're not done with him. you haven't even started. 
but you run into a wall. you look down and your hand is dangling idly in front of his arm, stuck in the air. 
you can't see satoru's eyes, but you can feel his heart--your heart--as it skips a beat in realization. 
but then satoru shakes you off, pushes you infinitely farther away from infinity, and keeps going. 
he walks out the door, slamming it shut.
you stand there for a moment, watching. you wait for the door to open again, for satoru to come back, for him to laugh--tell you that everything's fine, that it'll all be fine. that it's okay if you're angry, that he doesn't care. 
but after a minute, he doesn't return. 
and after another, you have to lean against the counter. your hand burns--but maybe that's just your imagination. you're pretty sure that infinity has no drawbacks, that there's no consequence for touching, for not touching satoru. 
pretty sure. 
but you still look over your skin, trying to see if he's left some mark. it would be nice to have some evidence of what he's done to you. you clench your fist, but the feeling doesn't go away. 
and maybe it's not your hand. maybe it's your chest. maybe it's these weeks of feeling separated, feeling miles apart from him, feeling like it's all your fault that any of this has happened. 
you... you can't even remember what you were arguing about. 
you feel like a kid again, hiding yourself in your room just so your parents don't have to deal with you. you feel like that little girl who hid in the cupboards, trying to escape the monsters that no one else could see. you feel like that smaller, reckless version of yourself that left home at the first chance, who knew she wasn't allowed back. 
are you allowed here? you wonder. is it going to happen again? are these monsters--real and fake--too much for your family to handle again? 
you exhale, trying to catch your breath again. none of this feels right, normal, easy. 
should you--should you call him? should you wait for him to come back? 
is he going to come back? 
the slam of the door is still echoing throughout the house when they creep down the hallway, making sure their footsteps are soft, but also loud enough for you to hear. 
maybe you've only been standing there, waiting for satoru to turn around, for thirty seconds. 
but it feels like an hour. 
"mom?" a tiny voice asks, and both of them are turning around the corner, taking hesitant steps towards you. 
you have to swallow. you need some water, an icepack maybe, to get rid of the burning feeling in your throat. the telltale signs that you're going to cry--that you've suffered blows to the core, and you can't backtrack now. 
but you don't want to cry in front of them. you refuse to. if you didn't want to cry in front of satoru, you won't cry in front of the kids. 
so you turn around, swallow again, and fill a glass of water. 
you chug it down, wanting it to wash away that feeling, that ache. 
you can't say anything just yet because then you'll actually fall apart. 
megumi and tsumiki watch you, both of them silent as they wait for your direction. for some solution you should have. 
you take a deep breath, then turn, almost faltering when you see the worried look on both of their faces, the concern in their eyes. neither of them should have to worry about this. 
god, how could you forget that they were there? that they could hear everything? 
how could you make another mistake? 
"hey, guys," you say, clearing your throat. you want to be nonchalant, and casual, but you've never been either a day in your life. 
"where did gojo go?" 
"i, um," you take another sip of water, because that feeling crawls up your throat, makes itself known again. "i think he went on a walk." 
"is he okay?" tsumiki asks. 
"are you okay?" megumi follows. 
"yeah, he's fine. he's good. i--he just needed some space, you know? um... a break." 
"from us?" 
your eyes widen. "no, no, no. of course not, never you guys. he's... just been busy this week. working a lot. and, i, well, he's good. we're good." 
megumi leans on the counter next to you, looking at you very closely. "are you okay?" he repeats. 
"i'm good, megs. it's..." you smile. "it's fine. um, did satoru get you anything to eat while you were out? i'm not sure what we've got, but i can make something if you--" 
"when is he going to be back?" 
you stop, sighing. you shouldn't have taught either of them how to read emotions, or how to eavesdrop. you shouldn't be speaking to anyone, or trusted with anything. 
"i'm not sure, buddy. he'll be back when he's ready." 
"is he going to stay out all night?" tsumiki asks, worried. 
"no, i'm sure--" you stop again. "gojo will be back in time for bed, okay?" 
they're both staring at you, waiting for you to say something profound, something to make it actually okay. 
but you have nothing. is satoru going to come back? is he going to stay somewhere else? you know he'll exhaust himself just to avoid coming home-- 
this is why you shouldn't have moved in--
this is why you never should've agreed to this, allowed himself to burrow a hole in your heart, in your soul-- 
"hey," megumi takes a step towards you. and then, before you can blink the tears out of your eyes, reassure him that it's fine, his arms are around your waist. 
he nuzzles his face into your side, squeezing tighter than you thought a little boy could. 
theres only a second of this before tsumiki's on your other side, and squeezing just as hard. 
your hands fall on both of their backs, and you take a breath that feels more like never breathing again. your lungs won't fill, and your chest is incomplete
but they stand there with you, and eventually, your heart begins to match theirs, and their little hands keep you together. 
you can't cry, but you really want to. 
*
satoru's entire body feels different. 
he knows what it's lacking, the changes he's made in a short period of time--giving himself no time to acclimate, no pause where he slowly adapts to the differences. 
he misses you. 
it's been like this before--when suguru left and satoru couldn't bear to look at himself in the mirror, nonetheless you in the eyes--but it's never felt so severe. 
because you're right there. you've been there every day, waking him up, making the kids breakfast, laughing when megumi bullies him, smiling at tsumiki's attempts at mediating. 
you're there in the morning, in the afternoon, and every night. you're right there for him--and he can't say a word. 
he doesn't want this, this thing to be real. 
denial is his favorite emotion, and recently, he can't even muster the strength to go through with it.
and now, he feels even more hopeless, lacking, never ever enough. 
but he walks through the door because he has nowhere else to go. he has no other home--besides the three of you. 
it's dark outside when he comes back, and the door is unlocked, so he knows that you've been waiting. that you had to deal with the aftermath of shouted voices and scared children who he felt lurking behind a wall before he got the chance to think about any of it.
he needs to talk to you. satoru knows that, he really does. but he's not sure what to say. 
he could apologize for tonight--could tell you that he won't make any more decisions, that he won't wreck this thing you've built--but it's not enough. 
he should probably apologize for the last seven years. for letting himself grow attached to you, and then continue to hold you at arms length. he should probably apologize for being himself, for being less than he could be. 
but those words feel too rotten to say aloud. 
so, when he walks up to your door, waiting to feel your obvious presence--to see it, like he always does, the wall of cursed energy that you are--he feels like running away again. 
you don't even need to know that he's home. satoru could go to bed, and he could probably pretend that nothing happened in the morning and you would follow along. 
but he doesn't want to do that. not to you. 
and he needs to see you, needs to say something before he figures it all out--should he leave, or stay? should he continue to push you away to protect you? should he tell you all of it? 
it doesn't matter, he knows, because he probably won't be able to do any of it. 
and for the first time in years, satoru makes sure to knock before he opens your door. just a small repetition of his knuckles, but he might as well be breaking down a tradition. 
there's no answer, but he's not waiting, so he creaks the door open, looking for you immediately. 
and he sees you, lying in bed. 
and he sees your shoulders shaking slightly, with you curled up in the fetal position, and he can hear the sniffle before the door is all the way open. 
there's no choice, he knows. he's not going to let you cry yourself to sleep without saying anything. he's not going to leave you alone. 
you don't turn around, but satoru knows that you must know he's there. he walks across the floor, sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting for you to turn to him. 
and yell, maybe. tell him to leave again. tell him that you don't want to look at him anymore. 
but you don't move. your shaking is slightly stifled, and satoru can tell that you're trying to keep your breathing low, to keep him from noticing you cry. 
it's foolish, really, because satoru hasn't missed a single detail about you since he was seventeen. 
he doesn't say anything, but it's a natural reflex to tap your legs, to stand and slip off his shoes, gently pushing you off of the edge of the bed, towards the middle. 
and then he's laying there, curling his limbs around yours, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. 
immediately, there's a release somewhere inside of him. that yearning--that ridiculous need is finally satiated. 
satoru swallows. he needs to say something, he knows, but he's not sure what. should he apologize right now? should he tell you that he hates it when you cry--that he never feels more desperate to be more than in moments like this? 
should he whisper that he loves you, just to get it off his chest? 
but you cough, body shuttering as you relax into him, never pushing him away. and your voice is so small when you say, "you can't leave." 
satoru feels the pieces of him crack into even more. 
he tries to hold you tighter, but you move in his hold, turning so that you're facing him, and you nuzzle your face into his neck--trying to hide, but making sure that he's there. 
your hands cling onto him, leaving marks.
he can feel your tears against his skin, your entire body on overdrive. 
"you can't leave," you repeat, voice breaking. satoru feels it against the very outline of his soul. 
"okay," he says, quickly. "i won't." 
"i can't lose you too." 
he pales, body going still. his heart might stop for a moment. "you won't. i'm not going anywhere." he sighs. "i'm sorry." 
"i can't--" you're still crying, and you begin to shake again. "i can't do this without you. i won't." 
"you don't have to." 
"you can't leave, satoru," you say, leaning up to meet his eyes--yours glistening with years full of hurt, a lifetime of secrets and unsaid words. "please don't leave." 
"i won't," he repeats, feeling a bit desperate. what can he say to prove to you that he's not like everyone else? that he would trap you within his atoms, if he could? that he would stay in this bed, holding you, even if it meant nothing, forever? 
there's nothing, he knows. nothing but the truth. but that doesn't come out--it can't, now. it's not the right time. 
so instead, satoru wipes the tears from your face, even though they're replaced immediately, your breath coming in short, short bursts. he wraps his arm around your back, pulling you back to him again. 
"i'm sorry," you whisper against his skin, so quietly that he can barely hear it. 
"i'm not going anywhere," he answers. 
and, just for tonight, it's enough. 
he'll fix the rest of it tomorrow. 
*
next part | series masterlist
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angelltheninth · 5 months
Note
Hi! Can you write something about fem!reader, who sees Mizu naked for the first time at the hot springs, and absolutely DROOLS over her?
Pretty please??
That's a good one! Thank you for the ask.
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, hot springs, flirting, suggestive, kissing, sitting on Mizu's lap, finding out Mizu's secret
Word count: 0.9k
Ao3
A/N: I would drool over her any time of day.
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There's been something brewing between you and Mizu since you started your journey together. You'd seen a lot of things in such a short amount of time, so much fight and bloodshed. But now finally time you relax, arriving at a hot springs, and having the time for yourself. And maybe for Mizu too.
You let out a long content sigh as you sunk into the warm water. All the tension in your body felt like it was melted away, enough for your mind to drift to the samurai who you've been traveling lately.
"Enjoying yourself?" The sound of her voice made you leap forward from your chosen spot.
"Mizu?! Why are you-" As soon you were about to yell your eyes fell on her naked body. "Wait... you..." You found yourself scanning down her body, then quickly back up to her eyes. She wasn't bothered by your staring, she simply tossed the towel she was still holding over her shoulder and sunk into the warm water, running her fingers over her hair to get it off her face.
A lot of things started to make sense now. How she never wanted you to inspect her injuries, how when she flirted she insisted on you not touching her, how you never felt anything when you cuddled up together. "You're staring at me. Is me being a woman that surprising for you?" Fuck, were you staring that much?
"Apologies. It was unexpected to hear our voice here. But..." You let your eyes have another pass up and down her body, "I think you look really good."
Somehow Mizu's smirk got more beautiful now. She scooted up closer to you, your shoulder touching her's, "That's good. Or else traveling together would become quite awkward. Also I shouldn't need to say this but you understand that this needs to stay between us correct?"
Mizu was hired because she was feared, they called her a demon, well they called him a demon, there was no doubt that this revelation would both put her in danger and potentially risk her reputation. "Understood. You can count on me to keep your secret. Besides we already have one, what's another?" What ever your relationship was right now it did stay as secretive as it could be, especially from your father who already warned Mizu about not touching you when he hired her to escort you across the country safely.
Those orders didn't even last a month. At least now you could rest easy knowing that even if things do go further you wouldn't end up pregnant.
"I can hear you thinking over there. Are you... changing your mind about us?" Mizu thought there was an 'us', it wasn't just your imagination, it wasn't just a fun thing to pass the lonely time on the road. At least it didn't seem so when you looked into her eyes.
"Not at all. Actually I think it benefits our relationship. If you told me earlier I wouldn't be on my guard as much when we slept in the same bedroll."
"That was you on your guard? You seemed very comfortable to be on top of me." You felt Mizu's hands take you by the wrist and pull you onto her lap. It was instinct that made you jerk away before you realized you could melt into her, "I remember it was a little like this. And you were doing something like," Her callused fingers dug into your thighs, moving you back and forth, "this, with a little frown on your face. Bet you thought you weren't getting me excited enough."
A sudden new tension flew up your spine and pooled between your legs, only better than the previous times because you knew that this was exactly how Mizu felt as well. "So when you... excused yourself after..."
"I might be called a heartless demon but I have needs too. It's especially hard to keep my mind off those kinds of thoughts when I travel with someone as gorgeous as you." Her touch was warmer than the water itself. Every featherlight touch of her fingers crossing path from your thigs to your arms to the small of your back left you trembling. "By the way... you're not nearly as quiet as you think you are."
Oh god. You weren't horny anymore, you wanted to sink into the water and never be seen again. You would become a spirit of the hot springs. That was the only way to get away from this embarrassment.
"How much did you hear?"
"Let me think." Oh god, no, why did you ask?! "There was something about you wanting me to hold you down, something about my fingers and then you asking for my co-" You rushed to shut her up before she could finish that word. Unfortunately you weren't thinking straight, from the heat around you, from the heat in your body, from the feeling of Mizu's naked body against yours and from your embarrassment. You didn't have to kiss her, but you did. Mizu was quick to kiss you back, to press you even closer. You could feel every inch of her. "I can still do two out of three for you."
"Please just shut up, I will never live this down." You leaned your head against her shoulder, hoping that this would just end already. Well not actually this was quite enjoyable.
Mizu dragged her finger from the bottom to the top of your spine, the tingling sensation making you shiver and whimper, "Your secret is safe with me." A secret for a secret.
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meangirls-imagines · 1 month
Note
Hey this is a little different I guess but can you do a regina x fem reader where reader is so genuine and thoughtful about loving regina that Miss queen bee sometimes gets overwhelmed because when has anyone treated her like that when they didn't want something or her want something from them?
Used To It
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Description: Regina is used to putting all of the effort in her relationships. She starts dating Reader and gets overwhelmed by the amount of love and effort she's shown. Reader helps her realize what she deserves.
WARNINGS: none, fluffy as fuck
Regina George was not used to love.
I mean, sure, her parents loved her. But, they loved her because they were her parents. It's kind of a requirement to love your kids.
She thought Aaron loved her, but he just loved what dating Regina gave him. Popularity, status, friends. Same thing with Shane, he loved her because she was good at sex.
She never really felt love.
She had always heard about it, seen it in movies, read about it, but she had never experienced it.
She thought dying for 15 seconds would finally get her the love she had been chasing her whole life. Turns out, it doesn't. It just makes everyone feel pity for you.
After completely healing from the spinal injury, and neck brace free, Regina came out to the whole school. Most people were surprised but some people kinda already knew.
A couple of months after coming out, Regina started talking to a girl in her Physics class.
Y/N Y/L/N.
She was very sweet and charming and always knew how to make Regina feel better. After a few dates, Y/N asked Regina to be her girlfriend, to which the blonde said yes.
Now, a couple of months into their relationship, Regina felt overwhelmed. In a confusing way.
It's not like it was Y/N's fault. It wasn't.
The girl had been nothing short of perfect to Regina. Taking her on spontaneous dates, buying her gifts, pda, the whole nine yards.
She wasn't used to it.
She was used to taking control in her relationships but this, this was different from any relationship she had been in. This was....healthy.
The blonde didn't know how to bring up how she felt to Y/N. She had talked to Karen and Gretchen and even though they weren't much help, they were right.
"Be honest with her, Regina. She'll understand."
The blonde had texted Y/N to come over so they could talk. She had to let her know that it wasn't anything bad, so she wouldn't freak out. Fifteen minutes after she sent the text, Y/N showed up.
She had stopped and gotten Regina her usual from Starbucks. Regina's heart melted at the gesture and thanked the girl with a kiss. She led Y/N into her room, for more privacy as the girl made herself comfortable.
"So, what's up, baby?" Regina took a deep breath and sat at her vanity, facing Y/N. "Umm. I don't know how to say this." The blonde began to fidget as Y/N looked at the girl with a comforting smile.
"Take your time baby." Regina took another deep breath. "I've never been in a relationship that's so...healthy. And it's overwhelming." Y/N nodded, allowing Regina to go on.
"I've never been around a relationship that showed me what love was supposed to be. My parents, Aaron, Shane. I've never been exposed to stuff like that and you have shown me more love in these few months than anyone and it's very overwhelming. I don't wanna mess anything up because I'm happy for the first time in my life, but I also don't wanna hold back."
Y/N nodded and stood, walking to where Regina was sitting. "Regina, first off, thank you for being honest with me baby. Listen, I just wanna give you the best. I know your past relationships haven't been the best, but I'm going to make up for the sucky parts by treating you like the princess you are."
Regina's eyes filled with tears at the girls words. "I don't want to overwhelm you but I also don't want you to feel like I'm going to treat you like your other relationships did. This is a team, Regina. Not an individual thing. I'm going to be there for you, just like you're going to be there for me."
Regina nodded, tears running down her face. Y/N wiped her tears and kissed her gently. "I'm so proud of you for telling me, Gina. I know it wasn't easy. But please, for the future, know that you can come to me for anything, baby. I won't judge."
The blonde nodded, burying her head in Y/N's neck. Y/N kissed her head and guided her back to her bed. Y/N laid back and pulled Regina into her arms. "I really care about you, Regina. All I want is for you to be happy."
And as Regina fully relaxed in Y/N's arms, she felt true happiness for the first time in her life.
Yeah, she could get used to this.
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mavnagerie · 2 months
Text
haunted
* why deny yourself the finer things in life like a good nap and some good pussy.
roronoa zoro x reader
summary: in mihawks castle, resides another girl aside from perona. spending her days in his library, writing and reading until she passes out just to do it all over again. this is until zoro comes along, finding himself in her presence in his free time
warnings: smut. porn with plot (too much plot) elven!afab!reader. nerdy girl x gruff guy. pnv, unprotected sex (guys cmon), cunnilingus, finger fucking, throat fucking all of the above. pet names/praise (princess and good girl). cumming inside…cum cum cum. multiple orgasms. ZOROS A FREAK! very slight dub con if you SQUINT.
authors note: requests are open
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roronoa zoro never really found himself with free time when he was training. eye scar n all, he chose to overwork himself until he passed out. until he was bandaged up. until he felt like all of his joints would give way if he didn’t just stop. his free time lied in those long sleeps he’d take after being ripped open, forced to heal before he could continue fighting.
although, when his training was stunted by these deep cuts and wounds he would wander.
wandering the castle while unable to train was like walking through a maze, and he always did it to clear his head until he’d realize he was lost once again…yet coming across the extensive library proved to be like finding treasure at the end of a map.
zoros calloused hands gripped the knob of the door, peaking his head in, seeing dim candles light the giant room, a tower filled with books covered walls and glass stained windows, all surrounding a floor of stacked books and tables to study at.
while someone stood up against a wall, looking for a book, he has yet to see them. walking in, not addressing anyone to see if he was alone or not. his foots slid across the ground, impressed by the sheer amounts of colorfully bound books covering the walls. although, he was even more impressed at the idea that migawk had collected all of these in his lifetime.
Zoro believed there was this saying that noble swordsman must live by, and that was to indulge yourself in the things that make you happy. at least in healthy doses. happiness provides a clear mind, and a clear mind creates a great swordsman…
zoro was pondering as he walked, thinking of what had been said to him while he found himself staring up into the tower, staring at the peak it formed into from below. he barely made any noise but as he grazed his leg past a pile of books, one fell, clattering onto the ground.
“shit..” he whispers. he has still yet to see the person who calls out from the ledge that circles these walls
“hello?!” a voice calls down, causing zoro to jump, looking up at the walls scanning for a person. finally he sees you, as you’re standing there, your hands placed gently on the railing as you stare down at him, your hair falling around your face.
“hello?” he says, curious to see you here although he’s never seen you before.
“you must be zoro!!” you call from the ledge, smiling down at him, bringing your hand up to wave at him. “perona told me someone had been staying here.. but i haven’t been down since you got here..” a smile formed across your rosy cheeks. “give me a second”
zoro was stunned, not really knowing what to say as you made your way down the stairs, watching as your features became more clear to him. he was mostly shocked that there had been another person in the castle without him even knowing. but he really didn’t enjoy reading, nor was he amazing at reading books and fully comprehending them like nami or robin. he noticed your pointed ears almost immediately, long but covered mostly by your hair, earrings dangling from them.
as you approached him, with a soft smile on your face, you dipped to the ground in order to grab the book at his feet. “this is a book i’ve been studying recently, sorry it’s in your way..”
“oh no you’re.. you’re fine.” he cracked a smile, watching as you put the book onto the table next to him. standing up straight, you look him in the eyes, craning your head back just a bit to see him.
“oh wow you really do have green hair.” a soft laugh leaving you as you held your hand out. “im y/n… i live up here .. well i don’t live up in the library. i live in a room down the hall, but i spend most time up here… sorry im rambling. i get excited when i meet new people because i mostly spend my time with mihawk and perona.”
he took your hand, shaking it gently, watching as his hand engulfed yours. “i’m zoro.” he spoke sternly. “uh what do you do up here?” he said, letting your hand go, watching as it fell back to your side… then around your back… then to your hair.
“i write books for mihawk for him to read, at least that’s what i mostly do. im a writer, i write stories based off real events, i write about mihawk adventures, i write about all sorts of stuff but i just write.” he nods, thinking about how your work could possibly help him once he hears that you write for mihawk.
“does that mean his stories are in this library?” he asked, leaning back against the table, watching as you began to move around. cleaning up so he wasn’t in your clutter.
“yes actually! all of his books are on this lower level. some are small and some are big. i’ve written about his battle with you, actually.” a smile snuck on your face as you turned to him, watching as he flushed with a little embarrassment. “that was one of my favorites, you definitely are a brave swordsman.”
“do you think i could read some of them some time? i want to understand his fighting style a lot more or.. better i guess.” he said, turning around to see you across the room, putting books back and pulling more out.
“yes of course! why else would i write so much if it weren’t for people to read?” your smile grew as he asked the question, knowing you never wanted anything more for someone aside from perona and mihawk to read your writings.
you came back over to zoro, books up to your chin, all about mihawks fights, including the one about zoro himself.
“these are a few of them, they’re genuinely just biographies about his entire life. i’ve been writing for him for a long time now… some are wordy, some aren’t.” you shrugged as you sat them down, encouraging him to come closer. “um… i don’t mind if you take them back to your room but please do be kind to my books, i do work hard on them.”
he shot a gentle smile at you. “yes maam.” he grabbed one. in all of this excitement of meeting a new person, you didn’t really get a good look at him until now, but now mellowing out, you see his eye scar along with the muscles that protrude from his milky colored bandages that cover his torso and arms.
“um.. whenever you need a break… you should come up here.. it’s always quiet..” your mouth goes dry a little as you speak, suddenly gawking at him… at how gorgeous he simply is.
“i’ll remember that.” he smiles at you, his charming manner kicking your ass, feeling your stomach flip. “hopefully i won’t get lost on the way here next time.”
no way you’re actually attracted to this guy you’ve met maybe 15 minutes ago. but you hope that he’ll make his way back in the next few days, just to observe him again.
zoro smiled at you before leaving, you watched the scar across his chest wrinkle in his skin as he turned away. gently shutting the door behind him, your face turned pink, the tips of your ears feeling hot.
——————
sitting at one of the tables, writing, you can hear mihawks voice from down the hallway, speaking to himself as he approaches the library. gentle knocks sound on the door as you’re already standing to go meet him.
“hello mihawk!” you say as you lean against the door, opening it.
“hi, y/n… i have your dinner. i heard you met zoro today?” he said, handing you the plate of food. he or perona tend to bring you food rather than you all eating together. you were always busy in your own world and that’s why mihawk kept you around.
“i did! i gave him a few books to read… about you.. if that’s okay.”
“yes it is. he can afford to learn a thing or two from a different perspective.” a small smile cracked on his face, rare occurrence from the tall vampirish man.
“good!” you beamed when turning to leave. “is that all?” you said, pushing your face over your shoulder to see him again. he nodded, grabbing the handle to the door in order to shut it.
“have a good night y/n. come down once in a while, you don’t wanna become sick from being up here all alone.” he spoke as the door shut, hearing a thud and a click before you sat your food down, sitting down with it to eat.
as you ate the meal, you pondered zoro. you wondered what he did while he was here besides fighting. besides wondering how he can get better. but once you think about what he does… you think about him… his muscles and his hair, his face and his eye. his three earrings the brush up against his skin when he emotes with his hands. his scars are enamoring.
—————————
after that day, sleeping soundly in your bed at the idea of him, you didn’t see him for days. even wandering the halls outside of your library, you don’t see him. right now something aside from writing has peaked your interest and that’s the man that borrowed three books from you that he should bring back any time soon now buy just hasn’t.
“maybe he just doesn’t read fast.” you mumbled to yourself as you walk back up to the library, opening the door to see a tall man looking at the wall of books through the corridor of the library.
“zoro!” a smile formed across your face as a pep was pushed into your step while you walked, although wondering how he possibly slipped past you while you explored for him.
he slowly turned his head, seeing you, your hair put up while a dress flowed past your knees. it was dark, shifting between black and red depending on where it hugged your body. he got distracted, watching your hips maybe a little too long before he had realized you were walking right up to him.
as he fully turned around, a smile forms on his face. “hi, sorry it took me so long to come back up here. perona told me i could fight again so i did that and read my books before i slept.” his hand flew up to rub the back of his neck, showing off the muscle in his bicep as he did so, leaving your cheeks pink.
“it’s okay.. as long as they were brought back in one piece” your voice was cheery
“i left the books on the table over there. i wasn’t sure where they went and i knew you’d rather do it yourself then see me put it in the wrong place.”
you turned around, walking over to the table, observing the books. picking one up , you flipped through the pages making sure nothing had been ripped. staring at them, you suddenly felt a frame against your back, his body heat radiating off of him.
“i … uh..” his voice trailed off, not wanting to piss you off for messing up your book.. “one of the pages got ripped. just in the corner but it was just something that happened.” he watched as you picked up the book. reaching over your shoulder, his bicep pressing against your neck as you involuntarily shifted closer to him, pointing to the book. “this one.” he spoke softly.
“it’s okay” you whisper, opening the book to see the small tear in the middle. “oh this is an easy fix” you say turning to look up at him, a reassuring smile on your face. a smile forms on his face as well, realizing you wouldn’t be upset with him. your body was close to his, your face meeting his chest observing the golden chain around his neck. tilting your head back to look up at him, his cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink while he quickly realizes he needs to step away.
pulling his arm from your shoulder, he takes a swift step back. “do you want to see how i fix them?” you ask as you walk towards a table with materials skewed across it.
“i don’t care too much, but ill watch you do it just to see you..” he spoke just low enough for you to hear, watching the tips of your ears burn a little, trying to mask your reaction on your face with a small smile.
you tried to ignore the burning on your face as you stood over the table, opening the book, working at the rip to fix it. he leaned against the wall, across from you, watching you as your gentle hands cared for the book like it was sentient.
“you seem to care about these books a lot..” he spoke, watching as your fingertips pressed down on the tear as it was fused back together,
“i do. i spend a lot of time making them” he watched as your lips curled into a smile, thinking about how much you cared about what you do for mihawk. finishing up, you turn to zoro “do you want some more books about mihawk? or are you booked out.” tilting your head slightly, he watched you expose the soft skin of your neck unknowing to the thoughts that filled his head as he watched you.
“you can give me a few more.”
you nodded him into the direction of the case, walking over to it while he stood behind you, watching how light your steps were, how your dress held your legs while you walked.
he didn’t really know what had overcome him, but the fact that this beautiful woman had been in this castle the entire time he had been here and he didn’t know, was almost sickening to him. hes not a womanizer by any means but a man has his needs and knowing how much you stay up here alone, a woman does too. ‘i wonder if her and mihawk-‘ hes snapped out of his thoughts by your voice.
picking out a few more books, his thoughts had become more consuming, simply staring at your lips , your eyes, your chest while you spoke…he had to leave or he just couldn’t bare it anymore. where were these thoughts just a week ago.
———
exchanging a few works as zoro left, he pondered how on earth he could find an excuse to see you again, just to see your face, your hair, your body, whatever dress you’d wear… god why was he so whipped over you after only seeing you twice. making his way to his room, he soon let exhaustion fall over him as he fell into his bed, falling asleep.
zoro slept for what felt like hours until peronas voice crept into his ear, whispering about dinner until he shook awake, pushing her away. “PERONA.” he griped, sitting up, holding his head.
she giggled as she handed him two plates. “here! take one up to y/n” she smiled, knowing he had finally found out about her presence by her lack of being able to find him earlier in the day, knowing he must have found the library. his cheeks were a soft pink, perona pretended to not notice as she floated out of the room, leaving him to his own devices.
zoro had pulled on a clean shirt, weird behavior for him, before taking the food up the stairs and down the hallway. gently knocking on the door before entering, you had expected to see mihawk behind the door but was almost overjoyed to see zoro with two plates… was he going to eat with you?
when he had left earlier in the afternoon you sat there in the library, almost bringing yourself to tears as you giggled over him. no man had you giggle like that since you were a young teenager in your hometown and even then, nothing compared to watching his big hands hold your books or the way he reached his arm over your shoulder in order to point to the page. and that gold chain? or the way his arms flexed when you had scared him… or just the way he looked. his eye scar? oh my god you can’t even keep a straight train of thought.
“i hope you don’t mind me eating with you, perona urged me to” he kicked the door shut with his foot, walking up to the table you had been sitting at.
“no not at all! let me clean up the table” you smiled brightly at him, grabbing piles of papers and books, sitting them down on the ground and putting them in different piles, clearing off the table enough for you to eat, as the dim candles and moon light lit the room from above. you cleaned off a chair and allowed him to sit across from you. he sat a plate down in front of your seat, meeting you at his chair. “mihawks cooking is nothing like an old friend of mine, sanjis, but it certainly is good” he shrugged. “but i’m sure you knew that, you’ve been here longer than i have” a nervous laughter filled him, trying to ignore how close he was to you until you went to go sit back down.
“who’s this sanji guy?” you question as you sit down, bringing your knees into your chair, almost like mihawk had taught you nothing in regards to table manners.
“well uh.. i was a pirate but we were all sent to different places to train.. he was our cook.” he forked his food.
“oh that’s right! you’re apart of the straw hats. your captain is monkey d luffy” your eyes lit up thinking about the stories mihawk had told you about them.
“yeah! i’m assuming mihawk had told you about us?”
“yeah but not because you were coming here, it was from when he had fought you guys a year or so ago.. i heard you were only a small crew back then. i assume it’s grown?”
“a lot, i miss my friends but i care more about training right now. i promised to my captain that id become the strongest for him.” you watched the soft smile on his face grow, thinking about his memories with his friends. the two of you sat in silence for a bit while you both ate, gentle hums of joy filled the room. although mihawks food wasn’t the best zoros ever had, it was almost the best you had had. you hated when perona cooked because mihawks was just better.
the two of you had finished eating and your plates were stacked on the table, after eating you continued to talk, sitting on the couch in the nook of the library, in a similar area to where your repair table had been. sitting at opposite ends of the couch, facing each other, telling each other of your lives prior to living in the castle. he was all ears listening to your life, wanting to know where you came from and if everyone else had ears like yours.
over time the two of you grew closer together, both of you standing up occasionally and sitting down closer to the other. getting up to grab books and sitting back down to show him, until your thighs pressed against each others, your body flushed against his as his arm wrapped around your shoulder again, pointing to something in an old book.
you could smell him, assuming mihawk made him shower more regularly than he would on a boat, he smelled nice. over time you pressed your body even more so into his, feeling comfortable against his warm skin. his hand was draped over your chest, brushing against your breast as you both spoke. you tried to ignore it as you brought your knees to your chest, pressing your thighs together.
the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife, leaving you hopeless in order to escape the emotions you had felt seeing him earlier that day.
“zoro..” you spoke softly as you turned to look up at him. he had a fierce look on his face, obviously holding back when he peered down at you. “do you-“
your words were cut off as his hand held your cheek pulling you in, pressing his lips against yours. it almost felt like a movie as your eyes fluttered shut, accepting his kiss, letting the book in your hands fall to the ground. slowly, he pulled away, his eyes meeting yours as you opened yours again.
“do i what?” he mumbled.
“nevermind.” boldly, you grabbed his face again, pulling him into another kiss. turning your body more towards him. his hand feel from your chest down to your side, pulling you in. his strong hand capturing your waist.
two small kisses turned into longer sloppier kisses, his strong hands pulling you into his lap. the skirt of your dress riding up your legs onto your thighs as your legs sat on either side of his hips. his hands found the dip in your dresses back, his hands caressing the skin of your lower back. you could feel the callouses on his palms, rough against you as he pulled you in, pushing your hips up against his.
your arms were wrapped around his neck, your hands twirling his hair in your fingers. his soft hair felt so nice in your fingers and you could hear a soft moan leave his lips as you tugged at it every so often.
slowly, his lips moved down your to your neck, placing kisses across your skin before gently biting down on a place near the side of your neck so you could cover it with your hair, sucking your skin between his teeth. he moaned at the taste of your perfume. pulling away, he soothed the ache against your skin with his tongue before moving around your neck again.
“zoro…” his name fell from your lips as he urged your hips into his, using his pinkies to press into the dips of your ass. he pulled away, looking down at you, your face flushed while your hips ground up against his impatiently. soon you felt his hands grope your ass before picking you up. “put your legs around my waste” he spoke as you locked your feet behind his back, holding onto his neck while he stood. he carried you over to one of the tables, sitting you down on the edge. leaning down over you, he pulled you into a kiss again, his hands coming up to the straps of your dress.
“is this okay?” he mumbles sweetly. a soft sound of assurance leaves you as he pulls the straps of your dress down, exposing your bare breasts, nipples pebbling under the cold air of the room. he guided your arms out from under the straps, letting your dress fall past your belly. “can you lay back baby?” he spoke against your lips, his calloused hands rubbing down your back, guiding you to lay down, his other hand gently holding your thigh as your legs wrapped around his waist.
laying you down, his lips moved from yours slowly down to your chest, kissing along your skin until he met your breast. kissing one of your breasts, taking the other into his hand. taking your nipple into his mouth, he gently sucked on it before soothing the ache with his tongue. he pulled your body close to his, his thigh rubbing against your cunt below the skirt of your dress. glancing up at you, watching as your head tilted back, a soft moan leaving your lips. he pinched your other nipple with his free hand before switching spots until he was satisfied with the moans pouring from your lips.
he kissed down your stomach, gently biting at your soft skin, eliciting soft whimpers from you. “z-zoro…” your voice was weak but he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.
“what’s wrong?” he says, his chin resting on your stomach.
“can you pull my dress up from my hips, not down? i don’t want it to get messed up.” he noticed your cheeks were pink, he thought you were just so cute.
“yes maam..” he smiled. “is it okay if i take it all the way off?” he watched as you nod, pushing you up onto the table just a little more with his thigh, causing a moan to leave your lips. a smirk flashing across his face before he finds the hem of your dress, pulling it up. you sat up just a little in order for him to pull it over your arms. “good girl.” he smiles as he neglects the dress to the floor.
He looked down at you as if you were his prey and he were about to tear you apart, being deprived for so many years of good pussy. he not only needed to fuck someone, but from the second he saw you, he yearned for it to be you. your panties were lacy and cute, making him want to cherish them longer. he observed the damp spot near your core, bringing his hands down to your thighs, pressing his thumb against your covered pussy, unwarranted causing you to buck your hips up into his hand with a choked moan.
“sorry, maybe got a bit excited” he pulled his hand away, causing you to whine even more but this time in frustration.
“its okay. just please touch me, do what you want with me… please” his eyes met yours, watching as you pleaded for him.
“you don’t need to beg, baby.” he smiled, leaning over you to kiss you again, his thumb finding your clit above the fabric of your panties. “you just need to say the word and i’ll give you whatever you want..” his tongue pressed against your lips, urging for entry to your mouth as he teased your cunt. he pushed your panties aside, rubbing his fingers through your folds, searching your body to know what makes you tick. finding your clit with his mouth against yours he captures your moans. you could feel your pussy throbbing for him, soothed by the feeling of his thumb rubbing your clit at a pleasant pace. his fingers found your hole, teasing entry before slowly pushing one of his fingers in. he pulled his lips away so he could hear the sweetness of your voice, looking down at you as you unfolded on his fingers.
slowly he began to push his fingers into you, over time growing more anxious and pushing in a second. your back arched off the table, feeling as he scissored his fingers inside of you, his thumb rubbing greedily over your clit. he watched as you got closer, listening to how his name fell off of your lips.
“zoro… fuck i’m so close..” you whined, your hands reaching up to find his free arm. you gripped his bicep before he found your hand with his, holding it gently, squeezing it as you came close to your orgasm.
“come on baby, cum on my fingers.. that’s right” he soothes you with his voice, bringing you over the edge, your vision going blurry as he fucks his fingers into you through your orgasm, slowing down as your moans quiet. “good girl” his voice was low as he pulls your fingers out, bringing them to his lips, licking them clean before leaning over you to kiss you again, tasting yourself on his tongue. “you taste so good” he mumbled, feeling his cock throb in his pants.
zoro stood up straight again, standing over you, as he pulled his shirt off, discarding it like the dress he pulled off of you. he looked down at your messy panties, he found his fingers in the band of them, pulling them off of your wet cunt. you were watching him as he did work on you, watching the curves of his scar and how they dipped into the crevices of his abdomen, wanting to lick up the entirety of his stomach to his chest just to feel that scar.
“your pussy is so wet” he mumbled as he stared down at it, his thumb pulling your lips apart, watching as it throbs for him. “i’m gonna eat you out” he says blankly before getting on his knees, not even giving you much of an option before his nose is pressed against your clit, causing your head to fall back against the table, feeling his greedy tongue between your lips. your hand flew to your mouth as he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, his tongue pressed flat against it before lapping at it like a thirsty dog.
his name fell from your lips, your voice growing louder as the hand over your mouth muffled the noise. zoro pulled away “don’t do that” he said looking up at you, he brought his arm up in an attempt to grab your elbow. “i wanna hear you.” with his hand reaching out, you put your hand in his. he guided your hand to his hair, encouraging you to pull his hair rather than covering your sweet moans. “good girl”
he pressed his face back up against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm, you were struggling to keep your hips against the table while he licked at your clit, his fingers teasing your hole. your fingers tightened in his mint green hair causing him to moan against your pussy, the vibrations sending you into a frenzy. all he did was give and give.
zoro moved back down to your hole, his tongue teasing you before pushing in, tasting you entirely. his hand pressed against your abdomen, his thumb placed perfectly on your clit, rubbing gentle circles into it, baring down when he wanted you to pull his hair again. he wanted to chant his praises, calling you his good girl and telling you what a perfect princess you were but he was drunk off the taste of your pussy, fucking his tongue into your dripping cunt.
you were chasing another orgasm, he could feel it in the way you tensed up, as your moans grew louder and your grip on his hair turned harder. “oh my god.. zoro. fuck zoro i’m gonna…” your words trailed off, struggling to form a decent sentence while he fucked his tongue into you. he looked up to you the best he could, watching as you unfolded against his tongue, shaking as you came again. loud curses leaving your lips while your juices flooded his tongue. he continued to eat you out, throwing you over the edge, continuing while your thighs pressed against his head, urging him to stop overstimulating you. tears formed in your eyes until he stopped. pressing a soft kiss against your clit and pulling your legs off of his head, he stood up again, leaning over you to kiss you once more.
“was that good?” he asked, finding your hand and intertwining your fingers.
“yeah it was so good” you sighed, with a love drunk smile, staring up at him. you could feel his hard on as he leaned against your leg.
“come here, we’re gonna go back over to the couch. i’m sure you’re tired of this hard ass table.” he pulled you by the arm and you sat up, his hand finding the dip of your ass, pulling you into his arms, carrying you over to the couch to flop you right down on it. he was still wearing his darned pants but being right down in front of his crotch, you could see that he was almost painfully hard.. and painfully big in his pants.
you sat up, your hand finding his hardon, rubbing him through his pants causing a short moan to leave his lips, almost like it was unexpected. “whatcha doing there princess?” he asks, watching as you palmed at his hardon, your eyes meeting his.
“not much..” you smiled up at him almost innocently. he threw his head back, another groan leaving him. you watched as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. your thighs rubbed together as you stirred the pleasure that brewed in his lower abdomen. “can you please take your pants off for me..” you asked, watching as he looked down at you, he was almost a little speechless as he nodded. you had been so submissive that he enjoyed you taking the reigns even if it was just for a second. he loved being of service, but it’s nice to have your dick sucked once in a while.
as he pulled off his pants, his boxers came with it, standing in front of you. his cheeks were red watching as you were stunned. it was tan with a curve to it, thick with perfect veins along the side.. god why were you observing his cock like it was a masterpiece in a museum?? you noticed how his minty green hair trailed from his belly to the base of his cock. “damn” you mumbled before your hand found the tip of his cock, gently rubbing the head before your thumb presses against the very tip, causing him let out an almost guttural groan. “fuck princess..” he grumbled while you rubbed his pre cum around the tip, and down the base with your soft fingers. your lips were suddenly against the tip, kissing it before your tongue teased him, leaving him almost helpless while he stood in front of you. you kitten licked the tip before taking it into your mouth, not going very far but just enough to elicit those sweet moans from his lips.
you pulled off of his cock with a slight pop, before you had gone down and licked the entire bottom side of his cock, from the base to the tip, causing him to shake a little before you spit in your hand, allowing it to slide down his cock perfectly while you took the tip back between your soft lips. he couldn’t handle all the teasing tho, he was becoming just a little sexually frustrated as you tore him apart with your ministrations. “god.. please stop teasing baby..” he spoke between those deep groans and moans that were music to your ears. your pussy was drenched again by this point while you took him deeper into your mouth, allowing your hand to handle what you couldn’t.
his moans fell from his lips, loud and uneven, while his hand found your hair, intertwining his fingers with your soft locks. “yes baby..” he whined as he tugged at your hair, causing you to moan around his cock. “fuck i can’t take this anymore.” he whines, using his hand to push your head further down on his cock. you didn’t protest, you just put your free hand against his bare hip, using it as a method to telling him to stop when it became too much.
while it was nice to be a tease, being fucked by him is just ten times better. he began to fuck his cock into your mouth, pushing into your throat, being obnoxiously intrusive. you moaned loudly around his cock while he pulled your hair into his fist. your other hand found his hip as well, holding onto him while he let go, his moans pouring from his mouth. “fuck baby fuck fuck fuck..” he cursed, knowing he’d cum soon.
“tell me baby.. on your chest or in your mouth..” he said as he pulled you off his cock, allowing you to briefly catch your breath, tears in your eyes. through heavy pants you struggle to speak clearly
“mouth” you look up at him, all fucked out, and he feels his dick twitch seeing you like this. you watch as it jolts up a little, feeling your mouth water for the want of his cock again. he used his hand to pull your lips apart, pressing his thumb against your tongue before pushing his cock back into your mouth, his hand intertwining with your hair again. he lets out a moan as his cock fills your mouth, slowly thrusting into your face until he loses himself, fucking your throat, chanting your name until your nose is pushed up again the base of his cock, his cum pouring down your throat. your name falls from his lips, loud and proud as he pumps his cum into you, slowly letting you go, easing himself out of you so you could breathe again.
“i’m sorry..” he pants, looking down at you, he holds your chin, wiping away the spit that rolled down the sides of your mouth. “god you’re so cute” he watches as your lips curl up into a smile, enjoying the praise. he wipes your tears away and finally gets down to your level, kissing you again. it was soft and kind, gentle even. something so brash against the brutal throat fucking that had just happened.
“you think you can take anymore?” he asked, looking down at your body, a sheen of sweat coating both of you . he watched as the gentle light of the room shone off of you, your hair a mess, tangled in your jewelry that decorated your body.
“yeah i think so” you smile, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for another kiss.
“good…” he smiles against your lips, putting his palms against your back, slowly laying you back down on the couch. “i need to fuck this pussy so bad” he whines, kissing down your neck, his hands feeling up your breasts to your legs. he finds his way back to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on them , tweaking the other with his free hand. you were getting deja vu from earlier but this time he was even more confident with his ministrations. your sensitivity causing you to moan even louder until he switched spots. he sucked on your nipples until he was satisfied, knowing you were wet and throbbing down below once again. his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it as he pulled away from your chest, feeling his cock throbbing between his thick thighs. pre cum drips from his tip as he stares at his thumb rubbing over your pussy, he feels like he’s almost drooling. he notices you getting antsy, shaking against his hand, whining in desperation.
“zoro…” you whine his name, pushing your head back.
“what baby? what do you want. tell me, please” he says, stroking his cock with his free hand.
“fuck me zoro, please?” your remember what he says, not begging but rather asking kindly for him to fuck you.
“that’s a good girl..” his smile was devilish as he got closer, pushing his cock up against your pussy, pushing his length through your wet folds, teasing you. your moans are desperate as he rolls his hips against your. getting his cock wet, your pussy being enough lube for him to easily stretch you out.
he guided his tip between your folds, pressing against your entrance. taking his lip between his teeth, biting down in an anticipation. your hands curled up into fists as he slowly pushed in, your nails digging into your skin as he slowly pushed his cock into you. the two of you let out a guttural noise as his cock filled your tight wet pussy.
a long exasperated “Fuuuck” left his mouth as his head fell forward, watching as his cock entered you. he grabbed your leg, pushing it up onto his shoulder, wrapping your other leg around his waste. he had his knee propped up on the couch while his other stood on the ground, holding himself up. a strangled cry left your lips as he stretched you out, finally bottoming out inside of you, taking it slow so you could get used to the feeling of him inside of you.
“fuck it barely fits” he teased, clearly proud of himself and his own size. his hair residing at his base pressed up against your wet pussy. “you ready for me to move?”
you open your eyes, biting down on your lip, you nod. “mhm” you felt so small underneath him. you watched how he held your leg, squeezing your thigh while his other hand held your hip, holding you in place so he could fuck you.
slowly he moved his hips back, watching as his cock pulls out of you, and then he snaps his hips back in just a bit quicker. he’s a noisy guy, his moans are nothing but sweet to your ears but he feels like he could cum just listening to the moans you let fall from your lips, your voice echoing through the tall tower of the library. his name was music to his ears, encouraging him to fuck you even harder, his cock bullying your cervix while his veiny cock brushes over the spot that leaves you seeing stars.
“fuck zoro.. f-feels so good…” your voice is shaky as his thrusts become quicker and messier. with your leg still resting over his shoulder, he leans over you, finding a quicker pace in his thrusts. his balls slapping against your soft skin, creating a loud echo of moans and skin against skin for the books to hear.
“fuck you’re such a good girl.. princesss…” he chants praises to you, his voice deep and doused with pleasure. pet names poured from his lips as he fucked you like a dog in heat. your back was arched up, your chest rubbing up against his as he fucked into you, stretching your leg much further than you thought he would’ve. his mouth found yours again, your tongues fighting with each others while your moans turned into one big mess of noise. your hands found his back, nails digging into his skin, holding onto him like prey: he couldn’t focus on kissing you anymore, he pulled away, your saliva both stringing together, creating a mess as he continued to fuck you like he’d die if he wasn’t in your pussy.
“god damn princess.. fuck i’m gonna cum soon..”
“me too.. mhh zoro.. please cum inside of me..”
“yes baby.. whatever you ask for.” he kisses your cheek before his head falls next to yours, his moans landing right in your ear, yours to his. his thrusts became messy and uncoordinated as the two of you neared your orgasm. he continued to wildly fuck you until your nails bared so hard onto his skin he bled. you almost screamed out his name as your orgasm hit you like white lightning. your cunt, tight around him, left him chomping at the bit as he poured his cum into you. his cock as far into you as he could possibly get it, filling your womb with his hot, sticky cum.
his cock was so far into you, you were seeing stars even after coming down from your high, feeling him still inside of you, hard.
“fuck baby..” he moans into your ears, and when i say this man whines. “i need more..” he began to slowly thrust his cock into you again, leaving your overstimulated cunt throbbing around him.
“mhh zoro… take what you want, you deserve it” your words were music to his ears as he began to messily thrust into you again. he wanted to fuck his thick cum into you, he wanted to watch it pour out of your dumb little cunt.
“good girl..” he groans as he leans back, pulling your other leg underneath his shoulder pushing you into a mating press.
“zoro!” you yelp, a little shocked.
planting both of his arms above your shoulders onto the soft couch. “fuck i’m gonna fill you with this cum” he groans before he’s fucking you again, wildly like an animal who can’t contain itself. fuck he loves your pussy, he loves how wet it is, how tight and warm it is. and how it will only belong to him now. he’s so deep inside of you, fucking his warm cum into your womb. he needs you so bad. sitting up just a little, he slows down and looks down at your clit.
he drops a glob of his spit down on what he considers his property now.
“touch your clit for me, baby. use my spit.” he says as he crushes you again, watching you move your hand to rub that sensitive clit, easily bringing you close to another orgasm. he watches your face unfold, your moans fall from your lips as tears form in your eyes, so overstimulated. “yes princess.. i know you can cum again. milk my cock baby” he groans loudly as his balls slap against the meat of your ass. as his thrusts become sloppy again, he knows he’s about to cum a giant load into your needy pussy.
your moans grow louder, no longer are you forming coherent sentences as he continues to just brutally fuck his cock into you. “i’m gonna.. fuck zoro.. im…” your words are gone as you scream finding that rush of an orgasm you need now badly. as your cunt tightens around his thick cock, he can feel himself lose it as he fucks his hard cock into you just a few more times until he’s crushing you, spilling loads of cum into your hot cunt. your name falling from his lips in a loud groan.
he sat there, feeling comfort in your warm cunt but seeing how badly he had essentially tortured you and your little body.
“fuck…” he spoke gruffly. “are you okay?” he says, sitting up just a bit, watching you wince as his cock moves inside of you.
“y-yes..” you stutter, feeling your head spinning. he moves his hands to your face, gently wiping the spit away from your lips, kissing you. “i’m sorry if i hurt you, i got carried away..” he rubbed your cheek. you shook your head.
“no.. it was amazing. thank you..” a small giggle left you, watching his mood lighten up just a little.
“i’m gonna sit up and let your legs go.” he warned as he sat back up, putting his leg back down behind him for support. he rubbed your thighs as he gently placed your legs back down at his side. he looked down to see the white ring of cum around his cock where he had pulled out just a little. he was scared to pull his cock all the way out, not wanting you to yelp.
“is it okay if i pull out?” he looks down at you, seeing how cute you were being all fucked out and cock drunk.
“mhh.. yeah” you mumble, fatigue quickly falling over you.
that changed when you felt the sensation of him leaving your warm pussy, causing you to jolt up just a little bit, letting out a quick “fuck” as he pulled out. when he pulled out, he spread your legs apart, getting down closer to watch his cum pour out of you, biting his lip in satisfaction as it did so. he then pressed one last kiss to your clit before standing up.
he looked down at you , getting down on his knees so he could be face to face with you.
“just so we’re clear, your pussy belongs to me now…” he said , watching as your lips curled into a smile, reaching up and grabbing his head to pull him into a kiss.
“i know and that’s okay” you smile against his lips, kissing him once more, knowing you had a lot more long nights ahead of you while living with him
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kiss-me-muchoo · 3 months
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𝐈𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 || 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ have you seen the MV of wildest dreams? If not… you play the romantic interest of Enzo’s character in a movie and the sparks begin behind cameras too. But he turns you down and finally sees you years after that, realizing he missed you and now he’s jealous.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠_ age gap, angst, fluff, Enzo is a little bit of an asshole, Enzo’s ex is NOT specified, okay? Definitely not trying to imply anything by that, Spanglish, ANGST AGAIN. We have a Mexican carne asada here y soporten. BIEN CRINGE ESTA MADRE
𝐀/𝐍_ people from Uruguay and Argentina can correct me all they want about the accent, please start listening Cedar, then Widest Dreams for this… BOTH SONGS IN MY PLAYLIST FOR ENZO.
♪ ♫ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟒 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 ✰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 (+fics here)
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Your character was close to his. They were lovers. So you had to spend a fair amount of time with him consequently. Enzo was a humble and kind man. He was so random and yet so peaceful. Which facilitated the connection.
In the beginning, you thought it was weird that the production of The Society of the Snow had decided to keep more than 50% of the cast for a short film that would promote the movie and create speculation. You didn’t say no because it meant flying to the shores of Spain and enjoying more time with the boys.
So you give in, you take the director’s advice to stick to Enzo and build a connection.
He’s older than you, more mature, more experienced in many ways, but yet you seem to be able to make him laugh.
“Tenés que estar bromeando,” he says laughing.
“No es joda, de verdad me multaron y se hizo un desmadre” you explain giggling, drinking at your water bottle.
Both of you are having a little moment on the beach. It was warm, and it was a free day. The rest of the boys decided to spend the afternoon playing video games and you were not willing to melt watching a TV.
“Recuérdame jamás salir con vos” you roll your eyes.
“Ay vete a la verga, todos saben que soy el alma de las reuniones y fiestas” he shrugged, eating from his sandwich and smiling.
“Si, tenés razón quizá”
“¿Quizá? No, no mientas, Enzo” finally, he laughs loudly.
“Bueno está bien, lo acepto”
“Así me gusta, obediente, mi niño” he blushed. And it made you blush too.
The sound of the waves swiftly colliding makes you feel at peace. It’s been great so far. Filming an action short film, playing the damsel in danger who turns out to be the villain, and having lots of fun with your workmates.
“¿No extrañas tu hogar?” he asks, and you sigh, looking at the sea.
“Trato de no pensar en eso. Dependo mucho de casa, de mi familia. Me cuesta el cambio, pero me adapto rápido” he nods, smiling, and you hate to admit you like how good he looks with his hair slightly shorter.
“Eso es bueno… adaptarse. Aunque cueste… creo que al final es bonito el cambio” you start laughing. Because you remember his Instagram captions and the pauses he always wrote. But he’s think that you are also very pretty, not only the change he mentioned before.
“Si, es bonito el cambio” You keep laughing, and he shouldn’t be smiling so much at you. But you were so funny, you always had something to share and talk about. Enzo was very close about sharing things about him. But with you, he could make an excuse.
So you also stare at him, and you feel your heart start beating faster.
You can’t fall in love with him. But you’re miserably failing.
You look at yourself in the mirror. Your character had a disguise moment, where she had to pretend to be a dancer to get information. So there you are in a bejeweled attire with feathers.
“No mames, qué buena me veo,” you say laughing. Loving how your waist looks and how your hair looks so fluffy. The costume department did an outstanding job of making you look hot
“Como que si… ¿eh?” The annoying twink of Juani had to be there.
“Ponme la de perdió este culo de la Bad Gyal, por favor” Juani starts cackling, already filming you for some random tweet.
“Pero si vos tuviste un ex hace siglos, ya no queda” you roll your eyes, checking on the glitter decorating your eyes.
“Ay, pero no por eso, Juani. Nomás por mamona lo digo” There’s a knock on the door and you turn to see who’s standing there.
“¿Y esa diosa?” You blush, smiling at Fran being the person who knocked at the door before.
“¿Dónde que no la veo?” Of course, Juani had to be an idiot and ruin the moment, but soon he blows you a kiss.
“No es cierto, linda” You roll your eyes and turn back to see Fran giggling. You give him a sweet smile and scratch the back of your neck. He helps you get your robe so you won’t have to cross the whole building with your exhibitionist outfit.
“Tenés escena conmigo” Fran says offering you his arm, which you gladly take.
“Adiós, naco perdedor,” you say to Juani, who starts laughing loudly. As you start walking with Fran across the hallways of the building, you start feeling your heart beat faster. You were going to have a heated scene with Enzo, which made you cringe a lot. First, you appear with Fran’s character in the club which ends with your character tangling up with Enzo.
“¿Nerviosa?” You shake your head, sighing.
“I don’t know…Digo, no lo sé” he nods, as you two walk out of the building to get going towards the set. The shores of Spain were beautiful, Cádiz was warm and it suited your overwhelmed mood.
“Va a estar bien. Que igual si no, nos vamos a dar la vuelta en la noche” that immediately makes you smile. You nod, hugging him.
“Eso me encantaría mucho, Fran” You are on set now. There’s no way back, and when you turn back, you see Enzo, and he’s already looking at you.
You blush, and offer him a little smile before turning away so rapidly. The whole action is watched by Fran and he has his own opinion.
“Has pasado mucho tiempo con Enzo…¿No crees?” You shrug, greeting the makeup staff who are going to retouch your look.
“Teníamos que conocernos a fondo para que esto resultara” he nods again.
“Creo que si se ha dado lo de la conexión” it was weird, because you knew it was true. you had developed a special connection with Enzo. Hours spent talking and having long walks across the beach. The days you decided to cook for the boys and he always was the first to arrive and try to help you set up everything.
“Si se diera la oportunidad… ¿Te quedarías con él?” His question makes you wonder. It took you aback, and while you have full trust in Fran, you don’t know what to answer.
Well, you do know what to answer… but you are afraid to admit it.
“Si… aveces siento que si es con él, Fran. Me hace muy feliz… pero, no creo que Enzo sienta lo mismo” you confess. He smiles, taking your hand.
“Tenés que decirle. Se llevan un par de años, pero… se ven tan bien juntos” he says looking at Enzo.
“De verdad… ¿Tú crees?”
“Es que ve cómo te mira, y/n” In disguise, you turn to your side, and you confirm Enzo is still looking at you.
“Decíle… anda” you smile, a warm feeling growing in your heart. You feel loved, you feel like it might be meant to be. So you plan something.
“Hay que hacer una carnita asada” Fran laughs.
“Pero vos le pones mucho al asado. Jamás había visto uno así” you laugh. Since your type of asado was a northern Mexican carne asada. They all believed it was a great change of style of cooking.
“No lo niegues, Fran. Mi asado es grandioso” he tries to deny it but at the end, he smiles nodding.
“Ey… ¿estás lista, linda?” Enzo asks, appearing with a gorgeous smile. He was wearing a dark suit, his hair looked amazing, very hot.
“Creo que si…” you let him know. After some brief exchange of words with the production, you take your position along with Fran to start filming. And you never miss the way Enzo was looking at you.
Maybe he felt the same.
You started the carne asada before taking a shower and getting ready. Now, everything was ready. The big patio that connected the apartment complex was decorated with a table that Juani and Matias helped you set, with chips, salsas, guacamole, beans, and agua de tamarindo that you had to mix with some alcohol.
Everyone is having fun, and you have helped to serve the food to everyone with Blas. It seemed to be going well, you have a sundress and sneakers on the feeling of the alcohol has you tipsy and you can’t wait to make yourself some tacos with the asado.
You feel someone hug you from behind, and when you turn back, you end up caged around Enzo’s arms.
“Hey… you made it!” You cheer after seeing him, trying to ignore the blush on your cheeks. You hoped nobody had seen the interaction. Or else they would start with cheesy rumors.
“No me lo perdería” you smile, offering him a glass of agua de tamarindo.
“Hice verduras asadas y queso fundido para ti” he wanted to hug you so tightly again after hearing you say that. You had thought about him and cooked specifically for him. Enzo had been in some dilemma, where he questioned if you could be the one. Although, he still had many obstacles to get to you. And he didn’t know yet that those obstacles would draw him apart from you.
“Ehh.. y/n linda, ¿hay más mas cubiertos?” Agustin asks you suddenly.
“Creo que hay servilletas y popotes en el cuarto de lavar. Voy a ver” you say laughing.
“Te acompaño…” says Enzo, which makes you blush again.
“Gracias…”
Both of you walk inside the building, and the laundry room is very near, so in less than a minute he opens the door to let you in. With the distance, you finally are able to distinguish the song playing on the patio. You hum along trátame suavemente playing in the background.
No quiero soñar mil veces las mismas cosas
Ni contemplarlas sabiamente
Quiero que me trates suavemente
Enzo can’t help but think you look so adorable. He remembers the way he had to touch you for the scene earlier. Half of him hated himself for feeling that way about you, and the other half questioned if it could possibly be correct.
“Enzo… no alcanzo las servilletas” When he turns back, he sees you trying to climb the washing machine to open the drawers.
“Así no, chiquita.” He laughs and stops you, making you sit on top of the washing machine while he grabs the bag with napkins and straws inside.
“Ay, si… humillame pues” you complain crossing your arms. He drops de bag beside you, and then gives you a silly smirk, which makes you laugh.
“Nada de eso, sis vos sos bien linda así” You cross your arms, avoiding his eyes. This was the closest you’d been around him. It feels alright like having him close to you was normal. Making you realize, you could get used to his aura being so damn close to you.
I like him…
“¿Tú crees?” You let yourself play a little dumb, pretending innocence. And you have the excuse of being under the effects of alcohol.
Te comportas de acuerdo
Con lo que te dicta, cada momento
Y esta inconstancia, no es algo heroico
Es más bien algo enfermo…
you keep humming the song as you try to keep the conversation normal with the man.
“Si… muy linda vos” The outrageous side of you let your arms get tangled around his neck. And it caught him by surprise but he let himself feel the moment. He shyly placed his hands on your hips, and you squirmed.
“¿Qué estamos haciendo?” He asks, accepting that he was getting lost in your eyes.
“No sé” you admit, feeling how his chest was touching yours.
“Bésame, Enzo…” you close your eyes, and seconds later, you know he’s kissing you. Your fingers trace his hair and it’s so soft that it makes him groan in pleasure.
You let his hands caress the plush skin of your hips and legs as you keep pushing him towards you.
This is it, you are falling in love with him.
It’s one of the last days of filming, but for the past two weeks, you have been spending a sickening time with Enzo. He spent two nights with you, he even agreed to go out to the city just for you. You could say the feeling of falling in love was growing very rapidly.
He made you feel safe and every smile he offered was enough relief for your days. He held your hand once while walking through the crowded streets to not lose you and it felt right.
And you hadn’t seen him in two days because he had different scenes to film.
Until now, where your character holds hands with him as she confesses she’s the villain. You feel the air shift, you feel the distance he’s making and you wonder if it was because of the scene or if he was actually being cold to you. The setting is on one hill with a gorgeous sunset in the background, making the scene very dramatic and tragic for the romantic partners.
“Dime que me amas y me entregaré. Por favor…” your character says. Enzo looks at you, and the look he exchanges with you is sad, making you confused on camera.
“Yo te amo, pero sabes que no podemos estar juntos” his character had to say. And for some reason, you felt like Enzo was actually saying that to you.
“CORTE!” The director said. Everything keeps going on. But for you time stops. You look at him, hoping to find some sense of tranquility. That nothing had changed.
Slowly, Enzo dropped your hand and after a brief look… he walked away.
You spend the afternoon collecting shells. You are confused and slightly sad because filming is coming to an end. You don’t know if Enzo actually wanted to give it a try on distance. Because after the kiss on the carne asada, none of you had given status to the relationship.
But it’s not necessary to keep thinking about it, because you see him walking towards you, and your immediate reaction is to offer him a smile.
“Ey.. te perdiste todo el día” you try to sound calm.
“Estaba ocupado.” He says with both hands inside his hoodie. His hair looks disheveled and he seems tired.
“Entiendo…”
“Volví a hablar con ella” There’s no need to address it, you know who he meant, his ex-girlfriend. You don’t say a word, opting for hearing him before talking.
“Hablamos mucho. Quedamos de vernos cuando vuelva a Uruguay” you gulp, each word hurting you more.
“¿Entendés, verdad? Vos sos más joven que yo, somos de lados muy distintos… no iba a funcionar” your eyes get watered immediately. Rage invading you and sadness flooding you.
“Decí algo, por favor. No quiero lastimarte…” you laugh, shaking your head. There are some seconds of silence. You need to choose the right words.
“Alguna vez me miraste, sonreíste y pensaste que… tal vez, ¿tal vez pudo haber sido conmigo?” He sighs, looking away, at the sea.
The longer he remains quiet, the more you have the answer. He never felt the same as you, but he never tried to stop you either. He played along.
You just start walking away, hand on an extremely tight grip, the shells and sand irritating the skin on your palm.
“Nunca quise hacerte daño” he yells as you have walked a fair amount of steps away.
“Si nunca sentiste algo por mi, nunca debiste haberme dejado encariñarme contigo.” He lowers his gaze and you feel even more enraged.
“No puedes ni levantar la cabeza. Fucking shame on you…” you spit with disappointment.
“Y jamás debí haber aceptado conocerte tanto” you finally say. Walking away at once and fighting the tears as you try to pass the boys who are playing video games again.
“Ey… ¿estás bien?” Juani asks and you nod, but he follows and once his hand touches yours, you can’t help but collide on his chest, letting the tears fly away silently. Juani doesn’t say anything, not yet, he just hugs you tightly.
The next afternoon, Enzo goes to find you in your room, but he’s surprised by the fact that you’re gone.
“Filmó su última escena y se ha ido a casa” Santi told him.
“¿Cómo?” Enzo is in shock, he just sighs, closing his eyes.
“Se quiso ir antes…”
“Le dijo… muchas cosas a Juani y a Fran” Santi adds, and Enzo can tell what had happened. And of course, he accepted being guilty.
“Necesito hablar con ellos” and with that he lefts.
But the talk didn’t help a lot. He just realized you were gone by the time he was able to be alone in his room again. Enzo was confused and tired and he also just wanted to go home. But as he understands you’re gone and he won’t see you in a long time, he feels a little lost. And empty…
A lot of things change. You grow, you forget, you change. You go back to your normal life, college goes great, and everything is normal until it’s time to give a promotion to the movie and the short film. You kept a lot of contact with Fran, Juani, and Matias, but it won't be the same as if you didn't end up on good terms with Enzo.
About him, you learned he didn't make it with his ex-girlfriend. He was single and apparently good. You don’t hate him, but there’s a lot of resentment. And as the premiere was around the corner, rumors had appeared on the surface of social media. Rumors of you and Enzo, and all the drama. You didn't pay attention to those, but you were expecting at least one question regarding the issue in the upcoming interviews.
You were offered to be dressed by some perfect designer who had similar ideas to you. He made a silk dress in a champagne color for you. With tiny crystal beats and a gorgeous skirt. You loved the dress, it suited you so well too.
So at the beginning of the night, you don’t think about anything but making a good impression on the cameras. All that mattered was the promotion of the movie.
As soon as you arrive at the gala, you start shivering because of your nervousness about seeing your friends again. You were the last one to arrive so you weren’t able to greet them.
And that’s when you see Enzo. He seems fine, in a completely dark suit and his stupid perfect hair. When he finds your sweet eyes, his heart beats faster, you look so perfect. Your hair, your brows, your eyes, the pink lips, everything seemed to make you look so perfect. And he can tell you look older, your childish and plush cheeks are gone, and your short hair too. He remembers all the good memories he made with you and he feels sadness taking over. He missed you so bad after going back home. And he wasn’t able to hear anything from you because he didn’t dare to ask Juani or Fran for example.
“Te ves preciosa,” says Agustin hugging you. You smile at him and thank him. All the boys want to greet you and all is being recorded. The only one you don’t greet is Enzo, who stays afar posing for the cameras. Until most of the photographers keep asking to take a picture of you and the man who broke your heart.
“No te acerques si no querés” Juani advises you, whispering in your eye. You sigh, looking at how Enzo is getting closer.
“Creo que ya no tengo de otra…” you whisper back, pretending to have a big and honest smile on your face.
Enzo exchanged looks with you, and he was able to sense how awkward you were feeling, which didn’t soothe him. So he pretended to place his hand on your back but he never touched you, and you didn’t even glare at him a second the flash hit your face. You ignore the growing pain of having him so close but being so far away at the same time.
They want you to do a little interview with him. So you get close to the cameras to answer some questions.
“Entonces y/n… ¿qué crees que fue lo mejor de grabar el largometraje?” You giggle, easy question.
“Definitivamente que pude volver a estar con los chicos. Fue mas sencillo y podíamos divertirnos con mayor libertad” the woman nods, assuring that she was recording your answer.
“Y Enzo… ¿fue difícil grabar estando en una relación?” You know he didn’t like the question, and you suddenly felt worse or awkward.
“Eh… no. La verdad es que llevo rato soltero.”
“¿Hay alguien que podría llevarte a dejar de estarlo?” He laughs and you just want to run away. You really don’t care, and you don’t want to know the answer.
“Hubo una chica con la que estuve en Cádiz hace casi dos años. Nos la pasamos muy bien y las cosas no se dieron, mi culpa. Me gustaría hacer las cosas bien por ella…” it must be you, and it can’t be. You don’t believe him, you just turn around and look for any of your friends. So when you see Matias making you a sign to join im, you take the opportunity.
“Me llaman por acá. Un gusto, y gracias…” you thank the woman with a smile and leave quickly, knowing Enzo has eyes set on your back.
You won’t cry, but you can’t help but feel so weird about everything. You had been great without him. Seeing him back made you go back to that summer in Cadiz and how great it was your life at the time. But that is gone, and so are the memories you made with him.
Everyone knows you disappeared after the projection of the movie and the short film. You don’t like feeling his eyes across the dark room. You can’t rest knowing the party that followed the projections was going to be very painful. By showing clips of the behind-the-scenes, everyone saying words to each other. You are not in the mood for that. And it’s all because of him. Because he had to be an asshole and not think clearly. You couldn’t even call yourself stupid because he gave all the green lights that actually looked like green flags.
And as you question everything in pajamas, looking at the open balcony of your hotel room with red swollen eyes when there’s a knock.
You drag your feet to the door, and once you open it, he’s there.
The suit is still on, but he has a specific gesture on his face.
People often said looks said more than words, and Enzo was the perfect example.
You tilt your head, reading his face. His face says that he’s sorry, he feels sad, and he’s desperate to have you back. And he frowns after seeing your sad face. Your red eyes and look that said how confused and hurt you were.
So both of you stare for a little longer, literally glorifying each other faces. Remembering the soft touches, all the things you talked together. How happy you made each other.
“Podemos arreglarlo…” he finally says.
And slowly both of you smile, sad and broken smiles.
You open your arms and he immediately goes to hug you. His hands find their way to your waist, his face hidden in the warmth of your neck.
“Tú recuerdo jamás me dejó” and you smile again, closing your eyes, letting your face get comfortable on his chest, letting more tears fall.
“Si es contigo…Siempre fue contigo” he admits, knowing he’ll never let you go again.
____________________________________________________________________________
Antes de que me digan que que pendeja esta la y/n por perdonarlo tan fácil, pues en mi cabeza cuando Enzo la fue a ver a su cuarto fue como muy fuerte. De esos momentos donde la tension es mas fuerte y no se necesitan tantas palabras para saber que la persona está literalmente a tus rodillas suplicando so…
I already have an idea for a new fic with Enzo that it’s going to be AHHHHH. hint? Everyone loves you, that’s it
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betty-bourgeoisie · 11 months
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The thing I find most concerning about the sudden and rapid declines of platforms like Twitter, Reddit, and to a lesser extent Discord and Facebook, is the loss of digital third places that will result from it.
[Definition: a Third Place is a space outside of work or the home that you spend a significant amount of time in. Usually a social gathering place like a church, library, park, or gym]
It's a known issue that physical third places are disappearing. Cities, malls, and shopping centers have cracked down hard on loitering, resulting in a lack of public space for people to just hang out in. Parks exist, but their use is usually dependent on weather conditions. Church attendance has been in decline for decades for a lot of reasons I won't get into here. Libraries exist but they're not a good place to talk with friends. And pretty much every other third place I can think of (bars, game stores, bookstores, coffee shops, etc) requires you to spend money if you want to be there. None of these are new observations, smarter people than myself have written whole books on the loss of in-person third places.
Social media has been filling in the gap left by these third places for the last couple of decades. As physical space has become less accessible we've migrated online to find community - and especially during COVID, social media was really the only place you could socialize with others. None of this is new information either.
But the current issue, that I've seen very few people talking about, is that companies are starting to price and bully people out of those digital third places the same way they did with physical third places. The difference is that it's happening much faster, and usually at the whim of just one or two people. These are not broader sociological trends slowly shutting down social spaces like what we saw with the decline of shopping malls. There will be no slow adjustment to another social medium. We are seeing individual billionaires making a choice in real time to monetize people out of some of the only public social spaces we have left.
I've seen people bemoaning the loss of information that comes with these sites collapsing, but personally, I am far more concerned with the loss of social space. Don't get me wrong, social media of all kinds is an absolute nightmare, but for many people (and especially for teenagers who have more restrictions on where they can go and what money they can spend) online space is one of the only places they can reliably go to socialize.
In a country like the U.S. where the federal government is calling loneliness an epidemic this is actually a much bigger concern than I think a lot of people realize. How many people have more online friends than in-person ones? What happens to rates of loneliness as social media platforms become inaccessible and people lose those connections?
Obviously, the preferred answer is that people will go make more friends in person, but remember that in-person social spaces have already been severely limited. This is not the easy option that you might hope it is.
My actual call to action on this is to fucking fight to get your in-person third places back. Talk to your local representatives about repealing loitering laws - organize protests or ballot initiatives about it if you have to. Work with rotary clubs and parks departments to fund new public restrooms and park shelters. If there are places in your community that provide free workshop spaces/ game nights/ art walks/ etc go to them and support them financially when and if you're able. Go to your local library and check out a book so they get more funding! I know this shit can be boring, but things are only going to get worse if people don't have places where they can connect with each other. We can't keep letting capitalists take community spaces from us.
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toniiswrld · 14 days
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mx ☆ p.wb - 01
park wonbin x fem reader
you bump into a hot guy at a band concert, but what happens when you realize the hot guy is a member of the band?
🎸 cw. foul language
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despite it being a small venue, it was packed. you were shoulder to shoulder with people as you made your way through the crowd, holding your breath as you tried not to inhale the must of peoples sweaty bodies. you see the bar, looking up and squinting slightly at the very limited drink menu. you settle on a white claw, you don't want to be too intoxicated, places like these have all your senses heightened and you just want to relax a bit.
you’re not a big fan of general admission concerts, they’re too pushy and you hate having to stand outside for hours to get remotely close to the stage. not that you care too much about the view for this concert, you’re not too familiar with the band playing but your friend had convinced you to come since its a band she’s recently got into, and they’re still considered “underground”. she played you a few songs before and they were good,
as you turn back around to go back to where your friend is, you underestimate the amount of space you really have and bump into someone, the liquid in your can threatening to spill as you try to balance yourself
“easy there, princess” you almost didn’t hear the voice of the person you bumped into, his voice mixed in with everyone around you along with whatever song the speakers were blasting. you look up to see the face that voice belongs to, and you have to stop yourself from dropping your jaw. damn, he was handsome. tall, blond curly hair, abs peeking out from his cropped t shirt, that face, what a gorgeous face.
“princess…?” your voice lingers in confusion, processing the pet name this complete stranger just called you.
he laughs, his eyes narrow as he eyes you. they go from your face to your shirt quickly, not wanting to stare too long where he would look like a creep.
“your shirt, it says princess?” he says it like its a question but you finally remember that you had worn a cute tee with the word princess in big pink letters.
“oh, i guess you’re right,”
“i guess so,” his voice lingers, he eyes you again and he feels drawn to you, like he doesn’t want the conversation to end. “you a fan of the band?”
“i like a few songs, my friend is a big fan though. she told me to come tonight.” he nods, understanding that you weren’t a fan. for now, at least. “what about you?” you look up to him, taking a sip of your white claw while you wait for his response.
“i’d say i’m a pretty big fan, you’ll enjoy the show, trust me. especially the guy on bass, he’s really good”
“i’ll keep that in mind,” a grin falls on your lips, keeping the conversation light and flirty before realizing you might have been gone a bit too long.
“i should probably go back to my friend before she gets worried, we stood outside for 3 hours to get barricade” you shift your weight to one of your feet while you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time.
7:30. show starts at 8.
“no worries, princess. my name’s wonbin by the way. hopefully i see you around here again” and with that you were sucked into the crowd once more, wonbin nowhere to be seen as you push through people to get back to your friend.
“girl where the fuck have you been?” karina shouts once you’re close enough for her to see, it was even louder by the stage, you have to lean into her so you can talk directly into her ear.
“well i went to get a drink, and i bumped into a guy. a really fucking hot guy”
“did you get his number?”
“no, but he said he hopes he’ll see me around. said his name was wonbin”
she punches your shoulder. hard.
“wonbin? park wonbin?”
“i dont fucking know his last name! but yes wonbin, he was about this tall,” you gesture to a height you felt best represented the male you talked to minutes ago, wanting to give karina the best description you could. “and he was blond, long hair. really hot”
“you’re fucking lying,” she punches you again in the same spot, the already growing bruise makes it hurt even more.
“okay stop hitting me, and what are you talking about? do you know him?”
“girl, you talked to park wonbin… he’s literally part of the band.
your eyes went wide.
“no way, no fucking way. you’re full of shit” it’s your turn to punch her arm now, not believing her at all. there’s no way you just bumped into a flirted with a member of the band. why would he even be in the crowd if he had to get on stage soon?
“are you sure he said his name was wonbin?”
“yeah, but plenty of guys are named wonbin. i think you’re over exaggerating” she shrugs, believing that you had talked to one of the band members and had no idea.
it's just a coincidence that his name was wonbin and fit the description perfectly, right? its not a big deal anyway, it was just some harmless flirting. plus he’s in a band, and guys in bands flirt with everyone!
but none of that matters because the wonbin you spoke to was not the one in a yband.
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you were wrong. you were so, so wrong.
it was him. the hot guy you spoke to at the bar was on stage right now, playing bass and singing to the crowd, grabbing the attention of hundreds of people.
you could barely focus on the music, you were so focused on wonbin. your eyes fleeted to the other members, you don’t know anyone else’s name but they were all breathtakingly beautiful. you’re not surprised though, if wonbin was that hot it would make sense the rest of the band would be.
you think back to what he said, when he subtly shouted himself out by hyping up the bass player. of course he wanted you to keep your eyes on him the whole concert.
and you did. you couldn’t take your eyes off him. he was so mesmerizing on stage, the way his hair shined with the stage light, the way you were conveniently on the side of the stage where he was, it was easy for you to keep your focus on him the entire time.
once the concert was over and the noise was dying down, you and karina were turning to join the line of people leaving the venue. you were in a trance, you can't get the image of wonbin out of your head. karina really was a big fan of the band, you somehow underestimated her interest until now, with the way she’s already talking your ear off about what happened moments ago before she asked you what you thought about the show.
“it was him, rina” you sigh, not sure if you should be excited or not.
“i knew it!”
“but now i don’t have a chance!!” you whine, the excitement of tonights events slipping through your fingers.
“if he flirted back with you, then you probably have a chance. just don’t become a groupie y/n,” she nudges your shoulder, and you know she’s serious but there’s still a tinge of humor in her tone.
“no promises, the rest of them were hot as fuck too so who knows” you wink, and you two giggle as you walk back to your car.
you don't know how, but you were going to get him to yourself. if you caught his attention tonight, how hard could it be to get it again?
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masterlist | next
a/n: first chapter!! hope you guys like it, kept it a little short just to get a feel of the direction i want to take the next chapter 🤭
taglist: @starwonb1n @drinktzu @kyusqult @helovalley @miyawakiblossoms @murariki @nishimuraii @luvyujun @blooqz @bunni @b-riize @daegale @sunwoosberrie @rosesfortaro
send in an ask or reply to the masterlist post to be added to the taglist!!
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rogueddie · 2 years
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One small glimpse had all it took for Eddie to be completely hooked. Just one little glimpse, just enough to get him curious, just enough to get him in the store.
And then he'd truly seen Steve Harrington, dressed in a cute little sailors uniform. The shorts weren't anywhere near as sinful as the ones he wore in gym but... something about them being part of his uniform, something about the fact that someone is paying him to wear them, makes it seem so much more... dirty? Eddie isn't sure, something about it immediately riles him up.
They're so flattering too, somehow make his legs look better than the gym shorts did. When he turns around, bending over to grab something out of the lower cabinet...? Eddie is just glad it was loud, no one could hear the quiet noise he made.
Of course he'd teased him. How could he not? Former King of Hawkins high, reduced to serving ice cream in a slutty sailor suit.
"It's not slutty," Harrington had hissed, flushing bright red. "It's just a uniform."
"Mm, and you wear it so well."
It was just a short little visit. Got some ice cream, said a few teasing things, left within five minutes.
Eddie couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd always found Harrington attractive, who hadn't? He wasn't necessarily ashamed of that. But, even then, it had never been this bad. A fleeting thought that the guy looked good, sure. Waking up in the middle of the night, fantasizing about him in his work uniform?
A week later, he's sure that he's remembering wrong. He's probably just having a bad week, weirdly hormonal and didn't realize that he was into sailor uniforms... or something. Because there's no way Steve Harrington looked so pretty in that uniform that it warranted this much thought.
So, later in the day, he goes back to the mall. Picks up a new album first, heading inside Scoops Ahoy- he'd pass it by on the way back, it gives him the perfect excuse.
Harrington is serving, but he's turned around, talking to his co-worker. It gives Eddie an unfortunately good look at how the shorts pull a little too tight in all the right areas. It doesn't help when he shifts his stance as he talks, leaning forward a little more so his back almost arches, hips tilting to the side and-
Eddie ducks his head to stare at the album in his hand like it's the most fascinating thing in the world, shuffling so the girl in front of him still waiting at the counter blocks his view.
After he finally carries on doing his job, serves the girl so Eddie can sidle up to the counter with a smirk, he rolls his eyes. "Anymore inappropriate comments?"
"Yeah. You sure those shorts are the right size?"
Harrington frowns, looking down at said shorts. "Yeah?"
"Mhm. Sure, I believe you." Eddie glances at his co-worker.
She's a decently pretty girl, he assumes- but she's giving him a knowing look, pretends to tip her hat at him with a wink. Huh.
"Same as last time," Eddie drawls when Harrington finally stops frowning at his uniform.
He stares at him for a moment, squinting a little. He snaps his fingers when he finally remembers, grinning. It's almost criminal- to look that good on a normal day, but then also wear that sailor uniform and also be cute?
Someone up above must hate him.
"Here you go, that's $1.55."
Eddie reluctantly accepts the ice cream, hands him the money in far too many coins. It's the right order. "Is that the right amount?"
Harrington grumbles, annoyed, as he slowly starts counting each cent. Shakes his head when he's done. "5 cents short, sorry dude."
"Damn." Eddie pushes the ice cream back at him so he can dig through both pockets.
"Just- stop, here," Harrington holds the ice cream out. Eddie had very nearly wiggled out what felt like a quarter stuck in his pocket too. "You can pay me back later."
"You sure?" Eddie cautiously takes the offered ice cream. Hesitates for a moment- he's being nice, actually nice. Eddie isn't sure teasing is the best way to repay that but... he's not told Eddie to back off yet. "You just want cash or what?"
"What other type of payment is there?"
"Goods and services," Eddie wiggles his eyebrows.
Harrington splutters for a moment, flushing red again. So Eddie takes the opportunity to leave, not waiting for a response.
Whilst it's only 5 cent, Eddie has learnt the hard way that every penny counts. But he's been given the perfect excuse to come back. He's practically been invited back.
Eddie tries not to feel too giddy. Tries not to let it get to his head.
He holds out exactly three days. Three days of absolute hell! He can barely concentrate half the time, mind constantly wondering back to Harrington in that stupid uniform. The way he'd blushed, again, so easily. Seemed to almost welcome the teasing, too. At least, he didn't seem put off by it. It's almost too good to be true.
He'd been busy all day though. Band practice had run later than they'd planned and everyone else had things they needed to get to afterwards as well. It didn't go well for anyone.
Eddie is lucky he arrives at the mall in time, the stores only just starting to pack up for the evening. Most stores are completely empty- including Scoops Ahoy.
But it's completely empty. Not even Steve or a different employee stand at the counter, or shuffle around the tables cleaning up. For a moment, Eddie is sure that they must have closed up early and he really has arrived too late.
But then the 'staff only' door swings open, Harrington shuffling out. He freezes moments after he steps out, just as surprised to see Eddie.
"Hey," he eventually says. He even gives Eddie a little wave. "Sorry, uh, didn't expect anyone else in. Most of the ice cream is, uh, packed up. I don't... we might still have yours?"
"It's ok if you don't," Eddie offers, sauntering over to the counter. "I'll take a recommendation."
Harrington nods, shuffling over to start rooting through... things. Eddie isn't sure. He keeps up his bad habit of just bending over instead of crouching though. Eddie isn't sure whether he's happy about that or not. It is a nice view.
"We have, uh, the U.S.S Butterscotch ice cream? It's the closest we have available."
"That's fine. As long as it's not vanilla. How much is it?"
"Oh, right, sorry. It's $1.99."
Eddie roots through his pockets, dumping his change on the counter first. He's pretty sure he doesn't have enough- and he's right, he's just about 34 cent short.
"Shit. You got anything cheaper?"
But Harrington shakes his head again, already pulling out the scooper. "Just pay me back. It's fine."
Eddie raises his eyebrows. One time, 5 cents, isn't anything to take note of. A second time, now adding up to 39 cents?
"What if I can't afford to?"
Again, he shrugs off the question. "You're the one who suggested goods and services."
"You know what I was implying with that, right?"
He shrugs again, but he keeps his head down, focusing on fiddling with the ice cream scooper. He's blushing.
Eddie leans forward, onto his elbows, tilting his head. He pats the counter. "Come here then."
"What?" Steve tries to ask. But Eddie just pats the counter again. So Steve steps a little closer, leans on his palms though, keeping straight and upright. "What?"
Eddie looks over him for a moment, considering... it'd be worth the punch, he decides.
He grabs the little red tie of Steve's uniform, pulling him down. He leans up to meet him halfway, unable to hold in his pleased hum when Steve tilts his head to the side as he allows Eddie to pull him down.
His mouth opens just as easily when Eddie immediately deepens the kiss. The noise he makes when Eddie nips at his lower lip too- so high, needy. Irresistible. He just has to bury his hands in his hair, holding his head still so Eddie can take what he wants. Rewards Steve with a little tug on his hair.
He's panting when Eddie finally lets him go, blushing all the way down his neck, eyes a little glassy.
"That enough, sailor?"
Steve blinks at him for a moment, looking a little out of it.
"Steve."
"Oh, uh, yeah... right, yeah, that- yeah. I'll just, um. I'll get your order."
This time, Eddie let's his eyes linger. Doesn't bother hiding it when Steve looks back round, feeling almost gleeful at how Steve almost seems to preen.
... can you tell that I've been thinking about this post too much?
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ranhaitanisgf · 4 months
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hi omg i'm so excited for you and your event you deserve the 2k!! could i request childhood friends to lovers with kazutora wherein reader is baji's sister and they fake date for awhile to fuck with their friends but then realize their feelings for each other? also angst to fluff maybe !! have a good one and take care<3
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— kazutora hanemiya // childhood friends to lovers // fake dating
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☆ ˎˊ˗ THIS WAS SOOO FUN TO WRITE OMG !! thank you for requesting for my event !! i hope you all enjoyyy xoxo
☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader
☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.8k+
masterlist || 2k masterlist
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it was funny at first. 
when you’d seen the look on keisuke’s face, you’d had to use an epic amount of strength to keep yourself from laughing, only allowing yourself to have a bit of an amused look as you held kazutora’s hand. he was having a harder time containing his laughter, his face looking like he was going to break at any point as keisuke stared at the two of you, his jaw almost unhinging from how far it was hanging open. 
“you…you two…are dating?!” he spluttered, which made kazutora start to lose it. 
it had been even funnier when you and kazutora had shown up to one of the toman meetings, your hand once again encased in his. the amount of utterly shocked faces from all your friends had the both of you losing it once again, which had made the deal seem entirely worth it. 
that’s right. it was just a deal. a joke. the two of you were going to come clean soon and admit that it was all just to fuck with everyone. you would be able to laugh freely at their shocked faces, and you would all move on with your lives. 
so why were you feeling so bitter right now?
you had come across the scene by a complete mistake; you had been just been running to the convenience store to grab some snacks for yourself and your brother, (he had insisted on needing more yakisoba stocked up). you didn’t even known that kazutora had been in the area, and now you were frozen in your tracks, looking at him from afar. 
in front of the convenience store, he was holding a soda can in his hand, a plastic bag hanging from his arm. also hanging from his arm was a girl, the two of them talking with smiles on their faces as they seemed to be waiting for someone who was still inside the store. the girl was surprisingly close to kazutora, her body pressed up against his side, and you found it hard to recognize this boy who used to blush and stutter at the simple action of a girl talking to him. 
he hadn’t seen you yet, so you were taking a moment to contemplate what to do. should you just go back home? no, why should you care about this? the two of you aren’t even dating, so it really doesn’t concern you at all. besides, why should you go back home when you haven’t done anything wrong? 
you pulled the hood up on your sweater, pulling the hoodie strings so that most of your face was covered, leaving you with just a small amount of your vision. 
when you passed by kazutora, he didn’t even take a second glance at you, completely ignoring you. 
why would he talk to me?! i’m the one who made myself unrecognizable!!
you decided to put the confusing thoughts out of your mind, grabbing the snacks and packs of yakisoba, going up to the counter and quickly paying. with your bag of goodies in hand, you walked out of the store, noticing that kazutora and his little friend were nowhere to be seen. 
you let out a sigh of relief, (why are you relieved?) and started your walk back home, loosening the strings on your hood a bit. your hand reached into the bag, shuffling around in it a bit before picking a bag of chips, taking it out and ripping the top open. 
“yo.” 
“ahh!” you screamed, hearing a voice in your ear. you turned around, closing your eyes and throwing the bag of chips at the person. when you opened your eyes, you realized that kazutora was in front of you, looking at you with a confused expression and your bag of chips in his hands, (how did a single chip not fall out?). 
“your first reaction was to throw chips at me?” he questioned, taking a few steps to walk by your side as you grumbled, continuing your way home. “y’know, that’s not really a sound defense tactic.” 
“shaddup. gimme that.” you muttered, snatching your bag of chips from him. you grabbed a few chips, shoving them in your mouth and crunching as the two of you walked. 
feeling a stare on you, you glanced to the side, noticing how kazutora was looking at you with a quizzical expression. 
“what.” you said flatly, staring back at him with a blank look. “you got somethin’ to say?” 
“you seem pissed off.” 
“do i? well, i’m fine.” you answered, continuing to munch on your chips. 
“you don’t seem fine.” kazutora stated, his tone turning more serious. “what’s wrong? did someone do something to you? i can beat them up if you-” 
“i just told you i’m fine. can you get off my case? shit, i just wanted to get snacks! is that a fucking crime?!” you snapped. “don’t you have to go hang out with your arm candy or something? just leave me alone!!” you started to walk a bit faster, starting to regret what you said the moment it came out of your mouth. 
whatever. i’ll just go watch a drama and not think about this. 
you felt kazutora grab your arm, trying to keep you from stopping. the action made you want to roll your eyes; why was he acting like this?? 
“hey! i just told you i-!” your words were left unsaid as you turned around, guilt suddenly rushing through you. kazutora was looking at you with tears in his eyes, and now that you were paying more attention, his grip on your arm was extremely loose, holding it as though you were made of porcelain. 
“are you mad ‘cause you saw me with that girl? is it my fault?” he asked, his voice a bit shaky. 
“n-no, it’s not your fault…shit, i’m sorry…” you apologized, sighing a bit. “i’m sorry i snapped at you, i was just…” you trailed off. 
why were you so pissed off seeing kazutora with that girl? 
“...just…” you continued, trying to find an explanation for your actions. “...” your silence continued as you stared at him, the boy waiting for an answer from you. his sad, golden gaze felt like it was forcing you to admit the truth to yourself as you continued to look at him, (why did he almost look like a kicked puppy?). 
were you…jealous?
yes.
“i…don’t know. i’m sorry. just ignore everything i said.” you suddenly said. “i need to get home. okay. yes. i’m sorry, i’ll treat you to a meal soon as an apology, uhm, okay, bye-” 
“are you jealous?” 
you froze at kazutora’s words, your heart skipping a few beats as your jaw dropped. 
his face had suddenly changed into a smug expression, the tears that were in his eyes a moment ago completely gone. the look in his eyes hadn’t changed, he was still uncertain, but you could tell that he knew he had hit the nail on the head. 
“w-what?! why would i be jealous? we aren’t even dating for real!” you sputtered, trying to refute the accusation. “you could go and hang out with every girl in tokyo and i wouldn’t care!!” 
“you wouldn’t? that hurts me, (y/n).” kazutora said, a frown on his face as he stepped a bit closer to you, pulling your hood down. “i don’t know that girl, though. she was getting away from a creep, so i pretended to be her boyfriend for a while.” 
of course. 
you felt shame course through you as you realized you had overreacted for nothing, and you now looked like an absolute freak. there was no way kazutora would ever talk to you ever again, not after you had snapped at him like that-
“i would care if you were hanging out with another guy.” kazutora suddenly said. 
“what? why…?”
“because you’re mine. i like you.” you stared at him, your eyes damn near popping out of their sockets as you tried to figure out if he was playing with you or not. the look on his face and in his eyes didn’t change at all, staying serious and sincere as he looked back at you. 
“you’re…not joking?” you hesitantly asked. kazutora shook his head, his hands moving to rest on top of your shoulders. 
“i want…to date you. for real.” 
“...really?”
“yes. these last few weeks…” kazutora sighed, shaking his head. “...it was a mistake to agree to fake date. i was just too scared to ask you out for real, so i thought that it was the closest i could get to actually dating you. i’m sorry…if you hate me, that’s fine, i just needed to tell you-” 
“let me kiss you.” 
“w-what?!” 
“to see if you’re telling the truth.” you explained, putting on a confident front as you spoke. “if you’re lying, i’ll know it because you won’t kiss me. so, let me-mmph!” kazutora’s had suddenly moved from your shoulders to the back of your neck, pulling you towards him as his lips crashed into yours. 
your shock kept you from doing anything for a moment, but after your moment of shock was over, your hands immediately moved to cup his cheeks. you closed your eyes, embracing the feeling of kazutora’s soft lips on your own, gently moving as he kissed you deeper. 
you felt disappointed when he pulled away, though you suppose you were okay with the two of you staying this close together. 
“do you believe me now?” he asked earnestly. 
“yes…” you answered, still feeling a bit shocked at everything that had happened, (should you thank keisuke for bothering you to go and get yakisoba?). 
“good. lemme walk you home now, it’s getting kinda late.” kazutora said, smiling softly at you. his hands released from the back of your neck, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before grabbing one of your hands from his face, interlocking your fingers and beginning to walk. 
the two of you walked for a minute or two in silence, which you felt grateful for since you were still trying to process what had just happened. 
did that really just happen?! ohhh my god…
“by the way, you didn’t answer my question.” kazutora suddenly piped up, looking at you. 
“what question?” 
“i asked if you wanted to date. for real, not fake.” 
“...shouldn’t you already have your answer?” you asked. “i don’t just let anybody kiss me, y’know.” 
“well, i’d hope not.” kazutora responded, pouting a bit. “i would be hurt if you did.” you rolled your eyes at his dramatic behavior. 
“riiight, because i’m the type of person who would actually do that…you’re so dramatic. i could almost think that you were fake crying earlier or something!” you joked. there was silence from kazutora, and when you looked at him, you immediately recognized his ‘oh shit’ face. “wait…were you actually fake crying earlier?!” 
“uh…” you gaped at him while he avoided eye contact. 
“are you serious?! what’s wrong with you!!” 
“well, you’re the one who was yelling at me…” 
“that doesn’t matter!! at least i wasn’t faking it!!” you argued, shaking your head. “seriously…you’re an emotional terrorist or something…” 
“but i’m your emotional terrorist!” 
“...you’re supposed to use that with an endearing term like ‘idiot’, not emotional terrorist.” 
“...sorry.”
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hxltic · 10 months
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ON YOUR KNEES. SUNA RINTAROU
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part one | part two
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Before you could think about how awkward it’d be if Suna wasn’t in here (or somebody else was), the door quickly clicks and an arm suddenly peeks out to rip you inside. A glimpse of soft, pale skin with the occasional court burn mark that scarred into a slightly darker version of his complexion allows you to recognize this as him; however, you meet face to face anyway with the door to your back and his breath fanning into your nose, only standing nearly an inch away from your face.
“Hello,” you boop his nose.
“Hello?” A wave of irritation surges through him, resulting in him only stepping closer. You didn’t think his eyes could get any narrower. This was a new amusing sight because you’d never really seen him genuinely angry, always just smug and insulting. “What the hell was that?” His eyebrows deepen as he rectifies you.
“Payback.” You grumble. Your eyes flicker up to him kindly.
In pure disbelief, he pauses before arguing, “That’s your payback? You do realize had anyone picked up on it your brother would’ve slaughtered me?”
You shrug and fiddle with your fingers carelessly. This most likely only angered him more, but was he even actually angry? He has yet to yell at you…just…establish his concerns.
“Yeah, but that’s what you get. Be glad people didn’t find out.”
“Find out you just gave me a handjob?” His head tilts as he looks down at you in annoyance. Your orbs roll into the back of your head, driving a strong sigh.
You exclaim, “You started it!” causing him to rush to explain himself. With a few steps back he runs his hands through his hair manically. His chest rises and falls in deep breaths. Yelling at you was not an option but he was trying really damn hard to get it across to your stubborn ass.
“I didn’t start it. You kept shoving and touching me after I told you to stop.”
“I didn’t know I was doing that!”
“I told you that too, did I not?”
Both of you stare at each other. He was technically right, and you didn’t want to admit it, especially now as you are backed into a door with an angry Suna that you hate to say you find attractive. You kind of wish he got angry more often; it felt good to get under his skin.
“But you liked it.” You cross your arms. He seemed to be thinking of the next move, staring off mindlessly. This catches his attention immediately.
“What? So?”
“So?” you parrot.
What does he mean so? Clearly the confusion displayed on your face, convincing him to take the steps he took away from you back to get in your face again. With a solid countenance and an extreme amount of patience, he whispers. If he leaned forward just a bit y’all would be forehead to forehead.
“It doesn’t matter how I felt. It doesn’t matter you felt. Your brother is somewhere on the other side of this door.”
You tease him and drop your head to the side while your eyes match his. “What, you scared of him?”
“You-“
Your arms reach out to wrap around him in a hug, rendering him idle. You touch all over him, including connecting your fingers behind his neck on your tippy toes and even lifting his shirt the slightest bit to run the pads of your fingers along the dips of his sharp v-line to belly button. The fleshy part of your cheek rests on his chest when you bat your eyelashes at him. He refuses to look at you, ridden of all anger to keep his cool as you tempt him.
You slip a nail under his waistband on one hand and bring the other to palm at his print again. It wasn’t even just a bulge—everything was on display for you. Suna was just waiting to snap. From the time in the doorway to the table, his resolve was enough to impress himself, but he’s not so sure if that’s a veracious reward in comparison to your body.
A strong grip stops any movement. The male takes a deep breath, then bends down to your eye level so you could hear him loud and clear, front and center: “Your brother is my friend. You are his sister.”
The words replayed in his head a thousand times to keep him grounded, yet somehow they didn’t process, like a book you thought you were reading but instead you were just running your eyes over the pages cluelessly.
You were right. He wasn’t angry because you did it, he was angry because he can’t have you. There was a slight misconception.
You survey his pinkish lips, then back at him. With a squeeze hard enough to re-darken his eyes, you nag him.
“Pussy.”
“Drop to your knees, back to the door. Don’t say a fucking word.” He hisses declaratively.
It was a switch in his brain that you clicked with your acrylics. Although, you can say how embarrassing it was how fast you followed his orders. The jacket on your back ended up on the floor to protect your knees.
While you questioned whether to be annoying or not, Suna dug a hand into his sweatpants and started stroking himself. You watched as his hands trail up and down, only to twist at the height of his shaft and tug at the base. You’d been watching for only a small amount of time before your shorts started to become uncomfortable.
The man hovered over you while jerking himself off, eyes glaring bullets through yours. By this point you still haven’t said anything.
“You done this before?” He questions from above. Do you respond? Verbally?
You just shake your head back and forth.
A side of his lip lifts and it’s enough for your shoulders to slightly hunch. Would you be you if you obeyed him?
“You’re obedient now? You want it this bad?” This time he outwardly laughs at you, but removes his hand. You scoot backwards until you reach the door.
Suna hears a soft “yes” in response, so soft he could be just imagining he heard it. This was enough for him. He grabbed his length before shoving his waistband down his hips, not enough to fall in a pool at his feet but enough to leave his cock heavy in his hand, ending with a dark trail of groomed hair. You shift in your shorts.
Palm-up, a hand silently asks for yours, which when once received was wrapped around the shaft. You hadn’t seen it until now, only a little darker and redder than the rest of him, larger than you suppose what the average was, and pink with a brown tint at the top. With two hands instead of one, up and down, and with the hand on top handling his tip, you run it over any white leaking out to spread. His head throws back for a deep, sexy groan, and you promise yourself to do whatever you can to hear it again.
Your lips give it an open-mouthed kiss, you’re tongue peeking out to circle around as your lips cover more and more of his cock with each rebound of your head. Gradually, saliva spilled from your lips, coating more and more of him and small bubbles to form around your mouth. Soon he was slick, and a constant pace was set on your own.
He couldn’t do anything but stand there and question if this was really your first time, how long you would crave more than just the friction of your thighs, and what would it take to get you completely comfortable. Questions swarmed through his brain at your talented mouth. Long fingers search through your hair with uncertainty, not quite sure what he was allowed to do yet, but just resting them there as the slurp entertains him. Grunts and moans fall from his mouth, at least letting you know you were doing okay alongside the fact he was moving with you. You wanted to hear it from him.
You disconnect your lips from a little over halfway down his cock to speak.
You purr, “Is it okay?”
“Yeah, just like that. Twist it for me.” You correct your hand positioning and twist on the way up and back, naturally gathering whatever could drip its way down to his balls. Now thinking about how neglected they were, you fit whatever of his cock you could in your mouth and jerked the rest, then using the opposite hand to massage them. With an exiting pop you come off and suck on them, both fluidly coming into your mouth with ease.
“Fuck, life’s much better when you’re quiet.”
One of Rin’s hands drop by his side while the other tightens in your hair to move wherever you did. No pressure. The view was mainly of his chin because when he wasn’t examining you he was thinking. Or maybe it was the opposite, and he wasn’t thinking. A rumble reverberates on his dick, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that was a response to your hair being pulled.
It takes everything in him not to roll his hips deep in your throat, so when you completely disregarded his past statement, and took it as an opportunity to do the opposite, he couldn’t help it when you mutter, “Being quiet isn’t my specialty.”
“Well let’s go deeper and see how well you can talk then hm? Call it throat training.”
This time he took matters into his own hands by making sure you were completely parallel to the wall, instructing you to open your mouth, holding two strong hands full of hair in the form of messy pigtails, and sliding in slow as much as possible to fit until you were unable to go any further. There may have been 2 more inches left?
After a few passes of glucks coming from flexing and relaxing your throat to match his movements, it became tolerable. You attempt to talk around him, and the fact that you could even still try to make out a word pissed him off. It didn’t help that the one word he did understand was “lightwork.”
The grip significantly tightened when he quickly sped up, snapping his hips to the point where his thighs were refuge for your hands because they didn’t hold any use anymore. He held you still with no way out. You were caged by his body, his feet planted and cock driving into your throat as a release of pure irritation. Every now and then he’d catch a drag of your teeth.
“I’m starting to think you like pissing me off to get what you want. You like it rough? Want me to fuck your throat till you can take it all?”
The pace was one you couldn’t keep up with. You’re not sure if you saw it as a challenge or something, but your panties were drenched from the leer he flaunted as he bruised your throat. But that is exactly what you wanted and in comparison to the embarrassment of saying it aloud, you’d rather just nod your head.
“Say it. Talk like you did just then.” A smile plasters on his face as he tells you what you just said you didn’t want to do. Like he could read your mind.
A muffled jumble of sounds come out as an attempt to answer him, and when you couldn’t, he laughed meanly at you. In a single stroke of his hips, he slows tremendously. The slightest movement of his cock heavy on your tongue led you to take this time to breathe through your nose while you still could.
“Talk.”
With a swallow to regain your voice, you pleaded, “Yes.” One brow of his cocks up, implying that wasn’t enough. “I like it rough,” your course voice finishes.
“Your first time and you want it rough?”
“Yes, choke me, do whatever.” You took deep breaths that brought chills to his wet tip, chills that traveled all the way up his bloodstream. Your hands crawled up from his thighs to lift his shirt in the front, showing his abdomen. Since you were unable to back up because of the door, you slid to the left, and licked the side of his dick, right along a vein that one of your wet hands never failed to miss. It came down to caress his dripping length while your puffy lips left kisses as high as his belly button.
“You wanna be my whore for the day?” His own hand came to replace yours, so you dropped this one to your side, the one holding the fabric up while he stopped for a moment to look at you. He knew the answer was yes.
Lipstick smudged your chin and tainted his dick. Your eyeliner still stood strong. He’d fix that.
The other hand of his previously dug in your hair now covered your fingers rubbing his hard cock, so you took them off and held both hands at your side. Suna saw one slip into your shorts from above.
His best friend’s sister was on her knees, rubbing her clit, awaiting his cock with a now open mouth. He chuckles to himself. That’s crazy.
He holds himself before slapping it on your tongue teasingly, then anywhere else on your face, effectively spreading wetness to your eyes and cheeks, leaving them glistening. It was all from your own mouth, so hopefully you wouldn’t mind. It didn’t seem to be a bother considering you hummed through the whole thing.
His head tips back once more when his hips curl into your throat again, with the ride being a lot easier this go around. You had learned to regulate your breaths so well with his slower pace (slower in comparison to the one before), so your eyes could remain open, glossed over from your throat being abused. Vibration from your moans ring through him again.
“Haaahfuck, extend your throat. Take a deep breath.”
His free hand held under your throat, the perfect way to feel the way he was marking you from the inside, and also the perfect way to feel whenever you followed his instructions. You had.
And it felt fucking heavenly. He felt the breath you inhaled, when your jaw dropped the slightest bit, and he heard the small gluck when the muscle in your throat relaxed. So when the barrier dissipated, it allowed him to reach places he couldn’t before. Deeper and deeper the walls rubbed against him in the warm cavern of your throat, so perfectly that a line of curses slips from him. He was moaning now, breaths stuttering and voice getting louder with each time he hit the back of your throat. Did you even have a gag reflex?
“There you go, mmh- good girl.”
The blue shirt refrained him from doing what he wanted, so he peels it over his head, stopping when it comes to a puddle around his neck and only one arm inside. Both hands come down to push falling strands of hair out of your way and tilt your head up to him as his pupils dilate at the sight of him disappearing into you.
Your black bra could be seen from your damp shirt being covered in spit dripping down your chin and falling from his thrusts. You fondle his balls as a finger dips into your wetness.
Once again, there was another moan—resulting in him speeding up. It was just as hard as the first time. It sent you back to the point you were in before as his cock breached your mouth, forcing your hands back to his thighs and your eyes to glaze over. You gagged but it made no difference to his pace, though it did release tears that carried black down your cheeks.
Suna could feel the pressure of your nails digging into him through his pants but he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The noises that came from what he was just thinking about last night on your couch was too much to handle. And honestly, it felt like he was losing himself.
He retreated from your throat to allow you to breath the smallest amount before stuffing it back. By this point you felt if you wished to live, you should just retract your mind and relax up, letting him use you in whatever ways he wanted. Your eyelids fall closed, and they may have even rolled back.
“You better not,” the man above you grunts. They slowly re-open to him pulling out, then bending down at the waist. It hurts when he pulls you up by your hair with a single hand, showing off his strength, but when you’re at an acceptable height, he closes his other hand around your neck, turns his head, and closes the gap between you.
You moan into the unexpected kiss. Your mouth wasn’t the cleanest, yet he still sucks on your tongue as if it’s a lollipop. He kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times but explores like he hasn’t: he turns his head whenever yours does and tastes your strawberry lips. You whimper when he pulls away with even more of your breath.
“Open up, stick your tongue out,” he commands. His eyes hang lower than ever before. Anyway, you follow his orders, waiting patiently on your palms. A glob of saliva drips from his mouth, landing on the pink muscle. He hadn’t told you to swallow it, but instead, he actually pats his swollen, red tip right on the spot before sliding himself back in. It mixed with your own, not even authorizing you to taste it.
He fucks your throat with his hands stable on your forehead. Not running through your hair, but the fleshy part of his palms set on your eyebrows.
“You feel so fucking good...might start shutting you up like this more often.”
You don’t mind this proposal. It would’ve pissed you off, but you aren’t quite in the position to do anything about it, especially as his speed practically doubled. He pistons into your mouth.
His balls constantly slap on your chin. You feel the gag coming back, about to choke you, but he rotates to the back of your neck, tucking you in close so your nose was deep into dark brown hair. You still for a moment, your throat muscles moving along his cock. This is the time you take to observe him.
His face was completely flushed and his eyes were fuzzy. His mouth was held agape at the feeling, and his abs shudder each time you move. When you began to choke around him, he pulls off roughly, letting you sniffle and collect yourself. He does it again. It was clear the warmth near his stomach was bubbling up quick.
You cough this time on the exit, to where he tugs you immediately back down, but only on the tip. Taking down the three inches was a refresher. He turned you to the side, his tip making a bulge in the cheek that wasn’t closest to him. He slaps the spot as you’re held there. Not hard, but just enough to where he can do it a few times.
“You feel that?” He was fully breathless now, chest rising and falling with difficulty.
You nod. The slow blink that follows elucidates how fucked out you were.
“Now you can proudly tell your brother you’ve taken all of me down your throat. Can you do that?”
You respond, “Mhmm.” You aren’t completely sure to what, but you don’t care. He grins, then pulls out to grind slowly into your face.
“Shit, what a sight.”
Your cheeks are covered by his palms with his fingers stretched in different directions down your neck. Your eyes are puffed, low, and decorated with a mix of smudged makeup. Your tongue has been in one spot for the majority of the time you’ve spent together. Rin’s head involuntary tilts as if he was admiring a painting at an art gallery.
“Stop looking at me like you want me to take you right here, pretty.”
Purposely, whatever’s left of your eyelashes blink up at him like before and your eyebrows arch up the slightest bit. This combined with every gulp sound, evidence of him reaching the back of your throat each time, had his slick cock ready to fucking explode.
He kept his thrusts steady though, a slow, unchanging, grind. Before long, your breaths had steadied again and his forehead fell to the door. One particular thrust was extra slow. His fat tip yielded just at your entrance as if giving him time to catch his breath, so instead, you closed your lips around him, hollow your cheeks, and swirl your tongue just like when you first started. You only got to do this for about an utter five seconds before he was pulling out and quickly stroking above your face.
Still following orders, your tongue hung ready to catch whatever he had for you. Heavy breaths, curses, and moans carried him through his orgasm as lily-white spurts of warm cum land on different sections your face. You took it upon yourself to replace his hand with your own smaller ones, milking him of everything he had and more. You squeeze until it leaks out of his tip into your mouth.
Two long, ring adorned fingers dipped into your mouth, reaching the very back. He just giggled, to himself you assume. With his cock freshly out of your throat, you had gagged on them, to which he then shook them side to side, bringing your face along.
A fair amount coated you, a little even getting into your hair, and some dripping down the side of your eye. With a final lick and suck, you’ve successfully drained him. Your won’t dare try to speak, but after a second he hoists you up on your feet by your shoulders and gives you a peck. He’d eventually give you a paper towel from the dispenser as well, but for right now, he was busy sucking and biting onto your neck, efficaciously giving you a darkening hickey.
“Why would you do that?” You try to speak but nothing comes out, and the parts that were perceptible were extremely grainy. He’s learned to understand you.
“So your brother knows why your voice is gone.”
Rintarou now calls you his babysitter
©️ hxltic
677 notes · View notes
shmaptainwrites · 3 months
Text
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]
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PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)
WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)
NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work
Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn
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James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied. 
Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them. 
Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?
After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks. 
He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared. 
And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction. 
When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes. 
You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table. 
“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it. 
“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed. 
“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.” 
“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling. 
“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence. 
“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word. 
“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.” 
“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him. 
“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?” 
“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.” 
“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.” 
“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.” 
“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?” 
“Almost,” you smiled. 
“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.” 
“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.” 
“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.” 
“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.” 
There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment. 
“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards. 
“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.” 
You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.
Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week. 
Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush. 
“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted. 
“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you. 
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?” 
“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!” 
“Yikes,” Jian grimaced. 
“It’s bad, I know,” James assured. 
“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back. 
“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically. 
“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you. 
“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him. 
“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back. 
“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.” 
“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work. 
Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head. 
“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!” 
“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged. 
“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries. 
“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.” 
“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.” 
James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”
“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said. 
“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.” 
“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. 
“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.” 
“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.” 
“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement. 
“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed. 
“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies. 
James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.
Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke. 
He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. 
His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone. 
On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu. 
“It’s already done?” he asked. 
“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.” 
James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down. 
As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night. 
He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. 
“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said. 
James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak. 
“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 
“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag. 
“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked. 
“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?” 
“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?” 
“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.” 
“You live here?” he asked. 
“That’s what I said,” you nodded. 
“And so that’s how you know French?” 
“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.” 
“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal. 
“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered. 
“Oh, I don’t want to-,” 
“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”
He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him. 
“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.” 
“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed. 
You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon. 
“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.” 
“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.” 
You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you. 
“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you. 
“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.” 
“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?” 
He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away. 
“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”
James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream. 
“Ever been in love, James?” you asked. 
“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.” 
You ignored his response and continued, 
“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?” 
James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid, 
“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.” 
“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders. 
“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.” 
“That’s not a very straightforward answer.” 
“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.” 
You pursed your lips and nodded your head. 
“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.” 
“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.” 
A few years later… 
“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room. 
“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon. 
“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!” 
“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain. 
“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.” 
“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.” 
You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose. 
“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.” 
James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you. 
“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head. 
“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.
“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.” 
“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented. 
“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.” 
“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.” 
“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre. 
“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head. 
“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.” 
“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically. 
James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes. 
“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head. 
“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself. 
“What did I say,” Pierre sighed. 
“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.” 
“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.” 
James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it. 
The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia. 
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay. 
His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch. 
James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities. 
The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married. 
You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games. 
Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce. 
“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed. 
“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.” 
“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.” 
“A month,” House said. 
“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it. 
“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along. 
“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?” 
“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane. 
“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him. 
“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.” 
“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded. 
“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him. 
When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.
“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.” 
The man looked at James strangely before saying. 
“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.” 
“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French. 
“Hmm.” 
James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation. 
House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”. 
When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language. 
“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.” 
“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.” 
“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.” 
They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase. 
“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.” 
“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,” 
His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill. 
Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier. 
House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane. 
“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied. 
“You don’t have any with you,” House said. 
“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again. 
“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said. 
“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper. 
Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face. 
“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?” 
James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab. 
“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.” 
You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position. 
“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,” 
“22,” James filled in and you nodded. 
“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been. 
“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?” 
“That would be correct,” you smiled. 
“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?” 
“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.” 
“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.
“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested. 
“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.” 
You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch. 
“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat. 
“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare. 
“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.” 
“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast. 
“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?” 
“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.” 
“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.” 
“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird. 
“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked. 
“We did?” James raised a brow. 
“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained. 
“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes. 
Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food. 
When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning. 
“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked. 
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return. 
“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.” 
James shook his head, 
“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.” 
“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried. 
“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply. 
“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?” 
James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you. 
“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.” 
“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head. 
“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?” 
James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves. 
“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.” 
“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.” 
“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered. 
“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend. 
“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”
“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed. 
“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat. 
“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him. 
“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added. 
“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.” 
“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.” 
This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to. 
“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch. 
“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat. 
“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?” 
“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork. 
“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair. 
“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?” 
“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.” 
“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.” 
“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted. 
“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject. 
“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested. 
“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled. 
“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.” 
Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there. 
“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him. 
James put down his glass and nodded his head. 
“They are okay with it, right?” 
Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine. 
“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows. 
“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.” 
James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure. 
“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested. 
“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,” 
“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.” 
“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.” 
“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink. 
“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.” 
“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.” 
“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added. 
You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect. 
“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?” 
“Nah,” he waved his hand. 
“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked. 
“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed. 
“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?” 
James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help. 
“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on. 
“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.” 
“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.” 
“So there’s someone-?” 
“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.” 
“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject. 
After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it. 
“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.” 
“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?” 
“Sometimes I do,” you admitted. 
“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.” 
“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”
“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 
“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.” 
James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him. 
“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.” 
“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him. 
“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.” 
James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally. 
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.” 
“You noticed?” he asked. 
“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled. 
“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed. 
“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat. 
You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees. 
“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food. 
“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”
“It must be hard not living near them.” 
James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.” 
“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled. 
“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?” 
“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.” 
“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?” 
“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”
“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,” 
“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.” 
“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients. 
James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal. 
He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward. 
He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him. 
“Hey James, are you okay?” 
Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes. 
He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him. 
“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.” 
“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly. 
“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?” 
You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned. 
“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.” 
James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist. 
“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.” 
You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment. 
Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs. 
So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company. 
“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients. 
“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable. 
“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide. 
“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying, 
“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!” 
You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red. 
Eventually you pulled his hand away and said, 
“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.” 
“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed. 
“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.” 
“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?” 
“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.” 
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly. 
Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously. 
“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance. 
“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded. 
“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look. 
“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.
“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic. 
“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.” 
“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked. 
“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer. 
“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders. 
James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself. 
“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with. 
James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door. 
It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it. 
“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours. 
“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside. 
As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow. 
“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.” 
“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.” 
“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?” 
“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?” 
“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”
You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. 
“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 
After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie. 
“What did you pick?” James asked. 
“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.” 
“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both. 
You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.
It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen. 
Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled. 
You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright. 
“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him. 
“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen. 
You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again. 
“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head. 
“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?” 
James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.” 
“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words. 
It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter. 
You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought. 
“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded. 
“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.” 
“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.” 
“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.” 
“They were your favourite, right?” you asked. 
James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?” 
“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!” 
James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach. 
He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes. 
James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you. 
“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.” 
There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own. 
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.” 
James looked up from your paper and nodded his head. 
“Now hush and let me read.” 
“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned. 
James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors. 
For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 
“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?” 
“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?” 
Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh. 
It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.
Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized. 
“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.” 
“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.” 
With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed. 
You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself. 
You had heart-eyes. 
And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James. 
With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking, 
“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?” 
You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight. 
“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?” 
James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head. 
“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted. 
“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you. 
“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked. 
You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said. 
“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled. 
“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?” 
James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.” 
“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission. 
“Y-You would’ve said something?” 
Now it was James’ turn to be surprised. 
“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.” 
You reached out and held James’ hands in your own. 
“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,” 
“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.” 
James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old. 
The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together. 
Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last. 
“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple. 
“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.” 
“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.” 
He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.
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@cuntyvicodin
197 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 10 months
Note
Could you please do a gn! Reader x arcane characters where reader gets drunk at a bar/party and arcane characters take care of them? (Silco, Viktor, jinx, Vander, Caitlin,) :)
Sure, love getting Arcane requests again.
Pairing: Jinx, Caitlyn, Vander, Silco, Viktor x Reader
Tags: fluff, comfort, parties, drinking, cuddles, sweet kisses, headache, teasing, needy!Reader
A/N: I get sleepy so fast after drinking alcohol, maybe I need more tolerance.
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Jinx loves a good party, or any excuse to have one. Given her nearly endless energy she can party until morning and she never gets drunk or sick. Well lucky her because you're only human. No Shimmer in your blood.
Good thing that Shimmer also gives her a lot of strength because she had to drag your pretty ass all the way home. Your drunken thank yous are very cute and she will tease you about them in the morning, but for now she will let you sleep this off. She can take a nap next to you but if you get handsy you'll wake up without that hand.
"Down you go sugar. Not that way down, not when you can barely look up at me. How much did you drink anyway? You wanted to match me? You... do realize that amount can kill a normal human right? I love you want to keep up but don't put yourself in danger for my amusement. Seeing you like this is... not fun."
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Caitlyn doesn't actually have that much of a tolerance for alcohol, not the hard stuff anyway. Besides she needs to always keep her with about her, even when there's a party going on. It's a habit that she can never let go off, always on alert, never letting her guard down.
This allows her to keep an eye on you, someone who she knows will party pretty hard. You want her to have a good time too so you always try to include her, but as soon as she notices you're going overboard she will pull you aside and up to her bedroom. You stay here for the night, she'll help you sneak out in the morning. In the mean time, maybe some water and something salty would help.
"I can't take my eyes off you can I darling? I never do but especially now. How can I when you're irresistible to me? Yes, even dead drunk, I still find you very cute. Wipe that silly grin of your face will you, before I do it for you. I'm not kissing you while you taste like alcohol!"
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Vander has seen many, many people get absolutely wasted in his bar so he knows how to see the signs early. There's no way he's scooping you off the table or the floor while you throw up everywhere, how would that look for him as the owner? It'd get him teased for sure, plus a few laughs ain't worth you getting hurt.
He picks you up in his arms, deciding to pack up for the night, at least for the two of you. Even as you're lowered to the bed you don't let go of his shirt, pulling it off his body until it's on you instead. Now you can sleep, when you have his scent all over you. But in the morning when you wake up you have to fight against a drumming headache as you hear the kids running and laughing through the hallways.
"That's what you get for drinking so much darlin'. I told them to keep it down but you know I can't fully control them. You can sit today out, I'll take care of everything else. Now uh... my shirt please? Why not? I ain't going out there without it. Well maybe we can make a deal hm? A few big kisses for my shirt?"
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Silco already has his lackies and his kid to watch out for. So you need to be an adult here, along with... and just a few hours in and you're drunk. Well now he knows where Jinx gets her party encouragement from.
He has to carry you up on his back, all the way to the bed and... you should really let go of him now. There's still people downstairs and he is not letting Sevika be with a drunk Jinx because the last time that happened there was a fire in the bar. But he also doesn't want to leave you... what a dilemma. Will you stay in bed if he gives you a kiss? More then a kiss? Fine, but make it really quick.
"You really need to learn some self-restraint darling. How do you expect to please me when you can't even stand up? Oh I can see you can still use your mouth, but I'm worried you might hurt yourself. How about you lay back and I please you? That should be enough to make you pass out no?"
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Viktor doesn't drink a lot, not because he doesn't like it because he doesn't handle it very well most of the time. He needs to be in a really good mood to drink. Most of the time he drinks when he's with you, to loosen up a little and have fun with you.
However he's also the one who ends up patting you on the back when you throw up in the toilet later that night. He told you to slow down, but nope, you had to prove you can drink more then him, which isn't really that hard. You end up cuddling with him all night and mumbling how much you love him and end up telling him he'll make a great husband one day.
"Husband? You're thinking that far into the future my darling? Interesting. I'm guessing you didn't mean to say that right now so I'll be sure to act surprised when you actually ask me to marry you. You want kids too? Any other big secrets? You loving me is no secret."
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spideyhexx · 4 months
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billy x reader where billy’s boss is reader’s dad. thoughts? 🎤🎤
the way this man
mdni
would sneak up to your window in the late hours of the night. And you knew he would do this, but seeing him bright eyed and smiling outside the window was still bringing a flush to your cheeks.
When you let him in, his eyes drift over your body and you realize you're in your nightgown and while Billy has already seen you without a speck of clothing on, it would still feel so new, so intimate.
"Sorry, 'm a little late, your father had us rustlin' up some-"
Billy's lips quirk into a smile as you kiss him, his words dying in the back of his throat. His hand moves to the back of your head like it's meant to be there, kissing you with so much grace and delicacy its bewildering to remember just this morning he had you bent over a hay bale.
"Don't talk about my father right now, Billy. Please," you'd speak against his lips, hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt. Your lips so damn close and he wants to kiss you till his lips are bruised and swollen, bitten up cause he knows you love to bite his lips. Billy's eyes would stare so deep into yours as you speak to him.
He's been working for your father for a short amount of time, but his liking to you had lasted longer than that. Billy saw you one measly night in the town saloon and your short conversation was enough for both of you to be hooked on one another. He might've judged you at first, so obviously wealthy with an air of arrogance to your stature, but he knew you were more than that and he'd be right. And you knew there was more to Billy than his outlaw background. You saw such a sweet and gentlemanly person that matched you perfectly and you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He might've went after the job solely cause of you but he'd let you put that together.
It was exciting. Sneaking around with the daughter of a wealthy man, seeing her in her proper dress and perfectly made up hair one moment and then seeing it disheveled, corrupted by him in the next. Although sometimes he's not even sure if he's the one that's corrupted you or if you're the one that's corrupted him.
He snuck into your room every night and he planned on continuing until you told him to stop but you never did. You'd take him in your bed and sit in his lap, telling him the most obscene things he's ever heard about how good it feels to ride his cock, how hard it is to keep quiet as he fucks up into you and pulls your hair. It would be his favorite position with you, seeing how good your hips get, and your cute little face when he’d thrust up all of a sudden and take control when you thought you had it. Sometimes he wouldn't know what to do with himself, he's never been pleasured this good, never loved this hard.
It would get so much, he'd sneak off in the middle of a workday to relieve some tension, muttering to you later on about how he had to do it and all you say is, "show me how you do it," and Billy's just about to crumple and melt into the floor. But of course he shows you until your hand is replacing his own and he’s growling our curses under his breath, begging to be inside you already.
But then some nights, you're playing his hair and tracing patterns on his side while he takes a nap, dreading the moment you'd wake him and tell him he needs to leave. Or he'd hold you in his arms as you read to him, pressing small kisses anywhere he can reach and even easing his hand between your thighs while you read.
Billy considers confronting your father too. Once he knows he loves you and you love him, he'd be focused on trying to figure out how to make this even realer than it is.
There would even be an argument between you two with you being too hesitant too scared your father wouldn't accept Billy as someone you can spend the rest of your life with.
This argument could even lead to not seeing Billy for a few nights and when you do finally see him, he's getting on his knees and pleading with you to give him the chance to prove himself to your father, that no matter what he says, he's never gonna stop loving you or seeing you and he'd make sure of that.
let's chat about billy, here :)
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