#but they are teenages so they get a bit more of a pass when it comes to this sort of thing
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a/n: i am so proud of the boys and what they accomplished after everyone counted them out 💙🧡 can’t wait for next year when they’ve had a full training camp with patrick and they come back better than ever 🤍
tw: child goes “missing” for a brief moment, mild innuendo
word count: 2.9k
summary: the msg broadcast gets double the barzal men for a little bit
Offering to take the girls to the arena for a game seems like it’s a great idea until you’ve got Talia, both Martin girls, and Tulsa Horvat begging for pretzels mid-way through the second. Normally you’d have at least one of Syd or Holly with you, but since the outing is for Talia’s birthday, you’d thought it would be fine to just take the girls yourself. That you’d be a good friend, letting Syd and Holly have their Thursday night free, since all of your husbands are retired now and they don’t have to come to the arena if they don’t want to.
But Max is getting antsy and Talia is yapping your ear off - much like her father - begging for snacks.
“Mom, please, I’m starving,” she pokes her lip out at you in a pout and widens her hazel eyes. She looks unfairly like Mat when she makes that expression even though her general looks had shifted to favor yours as she got older. You’ve never really been able to say no to either kid anyway.
“Can you at least watch your brother while I go get snacks?” You ask, lifting your eyebrow and twisting your hair back into a slightly sloppy ponytail. Max swings his legs in his seat next to you, grinning at his big sister. His hat dips over his eyes and you make a mental note to adjust the strap.
Talia looks at you as if you just asked her to swallow a cup of live spiders. “Mom, please no! I don’t even know why we brought him, today was supposed to be for my birthday,” she whines a little, those pre-teen hormones working overtime. Two weeks from turning eleven, and you find yourself missing your baby girl more and more each day. She’s usually a pretty polite and delightful kid, but something about that upcoming eleventh birthday is creating that familiar teenage whine you’d been so good at back in the day. You should really call and apologize to your mother.
Max pipes up without taking his eyes off the action on the ice, “your birthday’s not even today!”
“Thank you, Max,” you hold a hand out in front of his face, covering his mouth, as Talia shoots him a glare. Max wiggles away from your hand, his head bobbing in every direction as he tries to see the players. “I should’ve known this would happen.” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your free hand.
The only reason Talia had picked this game for her birthday is because of Jack Cizikas’s last minute call up from the AHL. Her puppy crush on him is something you and Kristy like to joke about, but right now you’re not laughing. Casey, Kristy, Reese, and Cole are up in a suite with the grandparents for the moment and you should’ve just sent Max up there to join them, but your five-year-old is still a little clingy. He loves the Cizikas family, hero-worships ten-year-old Cole, but when you’d suggested it, his face had crumpled and he’d said, “I wanna stay with you, Mama!”
Who were you to argue with that?
“Okay, I’ll take Max with me, but Win,” you raise your voice and look down a few seats at Winnie Martin, the oldest of your babysitting charges at fifteen, “do not leave these seats until I get back, okay?”
Winnie grins at you, Matt’s smile copy and pasted onto her face. She gives you a little salute and nods, “you got it.”
Talia turns back to the girls, completely ignoring you, and you roll your eyes a little before holding out your hand to Max. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get some snacks,” you say, savoring the feeling of his little hand in yours. You never know when he’ll start thinking he’s too cool for his mom, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.
“Can I get ice cream?” He asks, skipping along next to you. He gives Sparky a high five when you pass the mascot at the top of the stairs.
You laugh a little and point Sparky and his handler in the direction of the girls. “I’m sure Winnie will love to see you,” you say, nostalgia washing over you as you think about the early years of your relationship with Mat and Winnie’s love for the dragon. Sparky nods and gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up, before bounding down the stairs. It’s a different person in the costume now, obviously, but you all had made sure to keep Winnie humbled by making sure each iteration of the Sparky knew to stop and see her at a game. The teen plays along gamely, her mother’s daughter.
Max tugs on your hand, drawing your attention. “Mama! Can I get ice cream?” He repeats his request and you shake your head.
“Nope, sorry, kid. It’s past your sugar cutoff,” you shake his arm when he pouts and kicks his Nike against the floor, nearly tripping himself as he tries to keep walking. “I’ll split a pretzel with you though.”
“I don’t wanna pretzel,” he whines, dragging his feet as he traipses behind you. You dodge a few people, tugging Max along. He keeps whining a little, complaining under his breath, and you pinch at the bridge of your nose before squatting down so you’re at his eye level.
Max goes quiet, but his whole face scrunches up in annoyance and you smile softly. “If you have ice cream now, you’re not going to be able to sleep. And remember that Daddy’s coming on your field trip tomorrow so don’t you want to be well rested for that?” You raise an eyebrow at him while Max considers your explanation.
The line shifts forward while Max is considering and you smile awkwardly up at the family in line behind you, silently apologizing for not moving. The mother waves you off with a polite smile too. Solidarity.
“Can I have ice cream tomorrow then?” Max finally asks and negotiating with the tiny terrorist wasn’t on your to do list today, but you nod anyway, knowing it’ll bite you in the ass tomorrow.
“Yes, after your field trip you can have a little ice cream,” you stand up, knees creaking a bit, and move forward on the line. Matter settled, you hook your fingers in the back collar of Max’s Horvat jersey, worn because ‘Uncle Bo is the coolest!’ much to Mat’s annoyance and your amusement. At the self-serve counter, you grab five pretzels - even if Max doesn’t want to share, you still want a snack - and a Diet Coke, hoping for a quick burst of energy. You let go of Max’s jersey to fish your phone out of your back pocket and tap it against the reader.
“Okay, Max, back to -“ you cut yourself off, looking down at your side and not seeing Max. “Max? Oh, fuck. Where did he go?”
Your heart hammers in your chest, slight panic rising when you scan the concourse and don’t spot your kindergartener. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, the only thing keeping your panic at a reasonable level is the fact that Max was quite literally almost born in the arena and knows it better than anyone. Of course that also means he could be hiding literally anywhere and never be found.
“I…okay, think like Max,” you step off to the side, against the wall, so you can figure out what to do. “Where the hell is he going to go?”
The muffled cheers of the crowd filter through the arena, signifying that the Islanders have added to their lead late in the second. You smile faintly and, like a lightning bolt to the head, realize where Max wandered off to. Or where you hope he wandered off to.
You book it towards the Lab and the MSG broadcast set up, trying to see around the crowds of people that are leaving their seats now that the second period is over. Obviously, you can’t see anything around all the people and the closer you get to the main stairs, the more panic you’re starting to feel, thinking about the girls back at the seats and what you’ll do if Max isn’t with Mat.
Once the cameras and desk come into view, your entire body unclenches, Max is happily perched on Mat’s hip, chattering away with Shannon while Mat and Thomas discuss the second period’s play. The cameras are on and your son is broadcasting live on MSG. You wiggle your way through the little crowd of people around the set and get to the front, by the retractable belt barriers, and try to catch Mat’s eye.
The second he spots you, his entire expression changes, a delighted smile stretching across his face and his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He looks like a twenty-something again, not the nearly forty-year-old he actually is.
“Max!” You hiss, trying not to be heard. “Send him over here!” You wave your free hand at the duo, Diet Coke wedged under your arm and pretzels getting squished in your hand.
Mat shakes his head at you and Thomas and Shannon look over too, all three of them laughing. Mat turns back to the camera, Max smiling like the cat that got the canary. “My wife’s trying to get our broadcast sidekick back,” he says, laughing. Mat bounces Max in his arms. “But I think we’ll keep him around for his color commentary.”
“No, oh my god,” you shake your head and gesture for Max to come back to you. “Mat, stop it.”
“Max,” Mat turns to look at your son, totally ignoring you, “what did you think of the game so far?”
Embracing the fact that Mat’s going to let Max join them for a while at least, you sigh and relax into the moment, watching Max perk up as he gets to discuss his favorite thing.
“I missed Matt’s goal,” he complains, Matt Maggio must’ve been the one to score when you noticed Max was missing. “But I like Jack the best ‘cause he’s funny and plays mini sticks. And also he gave me a piggy-back all day at Easter.”
Shannon laughs and chimes in, “we like Jack around here too. But hey, Max, I can show you Matt’s goal while your dad and Thomas discuss some of the finer points of the game.”
Max wiggles out of Mat’s arms and darts around Thomas’s back so he can stand with Shannon and watch the goal he missed. You snap a picture of Max’s head poking over the desk, heart melting at the sheer excitement on his face. You also notice the dozen texts littering your phone’s screen - a multitude of laughing emojis sent from the girls while they watch at home.
The fans around you are clearly eating up Max’s presence and you feel a little spike of anxiety thinking about how exposed he is to the public now, after keeping his and Talia’s faces mostly hidden on your social media pages. It’s always a little inevitable that the kids are seen with Mat out in public, but you almost wish you could snatch up all the phones recording video and taking pictures of Max as he points something out to Shannon on the iPad.
You take a nervous bite out of your pretzel and try to just enjoy the moment until they go to commercial when you can duck under the belt barrier. Mat grins boyishly at you, grabbing your waist to pull you in for a quick kiss. “Well, this is fun,” he says, pulling back from the kiss. “Family broadcast.”
“He is so stupid sneaky,” you shake your head, offering Mat the pretzel that you’d taken a bite out of. He accepts it and tears off a piece of his own. “And fast.”
Thomas laughs, leaning his forearms on the desk. “That’ll be helpful when he’s zipping around defensemen and scoring goals,” he teases before going to say hi to the fans and take selfies.
“Mom, look!” Max pops up at your side, holding a puck. Where did he get that?
“Pretty cool,” you smile down at him and let Mat lift him back up onto his hip. Max’s long legs kick at Mat’s thighs. “Where’d you get that, bud?”
“From Dad when I got here,” Max chirps. “Can I stay? Cause I don’t wanna be with the girls.”
He cuddles up against Mat’s shoulder, the father-son duo wearing matching hangdog, pleading expressions on their faces. The day Mat taught both kids the look was the worst day of your life, weakening your already minimal willpower. This time you have to say no, interrupting Mat while he’s working is only cute for so long.
“Sorry, Maxy,” you reply sympathetically. “We have to get back to the girls, but we’ll see Dad right after the game.”
Max whines loudly, reminding you that he’s still only five, and you chew on the inside of your lip. Mat pats Max on the back and whispers something in his ear, the extra lighting catching on the few greys that are starting to form in Mat’s dark hair. You wait while Mat talks quietly to your son, trying not to worry about coming back from commercial while you’re all standing in the middle of everything. Eventually, Max huffs an exasperated sigh and wiggles out of Mat’s grip again, slumping his way over to your side.
You smirk a little, “gee, don’t look so thrilled to come hang with your mom.”
Mat laughs and you roll your eyes at him.
“I wanted to stay with Dad,” Max pouts, little fingers gripping tightly onto the puck. “But he said that he’d take me to the locker room if I go with you.”
“Bribery,” Mat winks at you. “A dad’s best weapon.”
The ten second warning that the commercial is ending blinks and you grab Max’s hand, “okay, time to go back to the girls. We’ll see Dad later, okay?”
Max waves at Mat as you guide him away from the set. “Bye, Dad! Don’t forget I wanna see Jack and the locker room,” he shouts and you can hear Mat’s laughter boom over the noise of the crowd.
“I won’t forget Max, be good for Mom,” Mat calls out.
You hurry back to your seats, Max hopping along and waving to people as you go. He gives big, cheerful greetings to the ushers and security guards he recognizes, forcing you to stop when Sparky passes by so he can give the mascot a high-five and a hug around the legs.
“Max, baby, please. We can see Sparky later,” you sigh, a little worried about leaving the girls alone for so long. You know they’ll listen and not leave the seats, but you feel vaguely like a terribly mother/babysitter since they’ve been sitting by themselves for nearly twenty minutes.
Max pouts, but takes a hold of the hand you’re holding out for him and dutifully follows you back to the seats. He clambers over the couple at the end of the row and you apologize quickly for him, making another mental note to work on the kid’s manners.
“Where did you go?” Talia pops up in her seat like a meerkat, wrinkling her face at you in confusion. “We thought you, like, got kidnapped!”
“We didn’t get kidnapped,” you huff, passing around the pretzels. The girls thank you and turn back to the on-ice intermission action. Max reaches for your half eaten one too and you’re glad you at least got a bite in earlier. “Max ran off to see Dad.”
Max grins at his sister, mouth full of chewed pretzel. “Dad gave me a puck and I got to be on TV with him,” he manages to sound smug and excited all at the same time, waving the gifted puck in one hand.
Talia pouts a little, still childish despite how she tries to mimic the older girls.
“Eat your pretzel,” you twirl your finger to get her to look back at the ice. “There are a thousand pucks at home. Oh,” you add, “we’re going to head down to the locker room after the game. Dad promised Max.”
That gets the girls going, chattering about how they get to see Jack and the rest of the players, giggling like crazy while huddled together. You lean back in your seat, smiling softly at how cute they all are. Max is on his feet, dancing along to the arena music, waving both hands in the air - your little party animal. You send Mat a video of him dancing, teasing that father and son have the same moves.
He shoots back a gif of himself dancing at the Martins’ wedding more than fifteen years ago, making you laugh out loud, drawing the attention of all five kids. “Ignore me,” you laugh, waving a hand at them.
Another message from Mat vibrates your phone: leave the kids with marts and syd when you drop the girls off after the game, i wanna show you more of my moves 👀
Giggling like a high schooler with a crush, you take a minute to appreciate that Mat still makes you feel floaty and dizzy with love. Over ten years together and he still makes your heart skip a beat.
“Mom,” Talia’s voice slices through your thoughts, “what’s Dad saying? Because you look so weird.”
Schooling your features into a more neutral expression, you lean forward over the seat and ask, “how do you guys feel about a sleepover at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s?”
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I want Steve to find out about the simultaneous games that happened at the beginning of season 4.
That Eddie insisted that the hellfire session went on as scheduled, despite the fact that Lucas wouldn't be able to make it.
Lucas, one of Steve's kids, who Steve had defended from being beaten up, putting himself in the line of fire from that racist asshole Billy Hargrove.
Lucas, who had been pushed aside and alienated from his longtime friends just because he also liked sports and wanted to try and remain afloat in the ocean of high school.
Lucas, who loved his friends and and enjoyed different things, because spoiler alert you can in fact be a jock and like Dungeons and Beasts or whatever the hell it was called. Steve enjoyed Star Wars and could dunk, proof right there.
But all it took was one word from Eddie, and Dustin and Mike not only didn't go to Lucas's game, but they couldn't even be happy for him about the championship AND their final session of their long-term campaign went on as scheduled despite the absence of the oldest Sinclair.
Sure Jason Carver turned out to be a crazy asshole but Steve knew exactly how it felt to be caught between worlds and the biggest difference was that Lucas had always been a good person.
Unlike him.
One nice thing about his King Steve days was that he knew how to push, and he could turn it on for a day, just to knock some sense into a certain curly haired metal head.
"Hang back a sec man," Steve says almost casually as they exit Eddie's van after pulling into the movie theater. The kids tumble out of the open doors and race towards the building, pushing each other in their hurry to get in line for the second running of Highlander.
"What's up Stevie?" Eddie says, his dimpled grin comes out in full force as he looks Steve up and down, leaning back again the front of the vehicle grill. His arms cross loosely over his Black Sabath shirt and the various rings and chains sparkle in the high afternoon sun. He looks great today.
Focus Steve.
He clears his throat and sighs, trying to get into the heads pace from earlier when he initially found out what happened from Dustin. He had been absolutely furious.
But the flame of righteous fury had dissipated, leaving behind a cold feeling of disappointment in Eddie. It hung heavy and immovable in his chest, he needed to talk to him.
"Hey uh, I heard about the championship game man, Lucas's game".
Eddie tilts his head slightly, his brown doe eyes scanning Steve's face with confusion.
"What the basketball game back in March? That was like six months ago man? What about it?"
"Did you ever apologize to Lucas?" Steve asks, he keeps his face neutral, not wanting to influence the answer as Eddie scoffs. Not a great sign.
"For what Harrington?" And that stings a little, he'd been Stevie for the last two months or so, sometimes a Honey or Sweetheart thrown into the mix and Steve felt that they were barreling their way towards something new.
Steve swallows, he can't let this go, not even for Eddie.
"It was a shit thing to do man, to not let Lucas play and to not let Dustin and Mike go to support him--"
"Those kids know that the campaign comes first, that's the first tenant of Hellfire and they know that going in!" Eddie snarls, he steps forward towards Steve who holds his ground with narrowed eyes.
Fine.
"I thought you were above that sort of thing Munson, judging people for the things they like? Assuming things about a person and writing them off".
Eddie stops, his face paling slightly, his angry expression flickers once but remains in place as he crosses his arms again.
"Those games can't be rescheduled man," Steve continues with a shake of his head, "it's not even the school that decides the schedule for the season, it's the districts and the coaches, and who fucking cares if he was on the bench for most of the season? Because he played! And none of you were there".
Steve sighs and runs a tired hand over his face, "Not even his friends who he has known since pre-school. And with Will gone and Max dealing with all that shift from Starcourt and Vecna it was just the three of them, and you took that from him man".
Eddie stares at him, he says nothing, he doesn't even look like he's breathing right now and Steve feels like shit.
"I'm just saying, if you do that again, to any of them, to my kids," Steve says matter of factly, "then we'll have a problem".
"That supposed to be a threat, King Steve?" Eddie sneers at him, but his shoulders are dropping, and there is no true heat behind the words.
Steve shakes his head as Mike pops out of the double doors of the entrance and yells at the pair of them to, shit or get off the pot because what hell is taking them so long?
"No Eddie, it's not a threat because I'm hoping that you'll do the right thing. Because I know you love those kids and you're not an asshole".
He turns on his heel and heads towards the doors, leaving Eddie with the empty van. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, and the cold feeling in his chest spreads and spreads as he goes over the conversation again and again.
It stings a little to know that he's ruined whatever he had with Eddie but he couldn't let this go, friends don't lie after all.
He grabs their tickets, still buying one for Eddie --just in case, though the other man has not entered the building.
Steve tamps down the tight feeling of disappointment that grows the longer Eddie remains outside. If Eddie takes off, leaving them there, Steve can cover, he'll get Nancy to pick them up or maybe Jonathan --they're on better footing these days. He'll say Eddie had some kind of emergency come up, that Wayne needed him for something.
Yeah, friends didn't lie, but how could he break the kids' hearts like this?
They thankfully don't seem to pick up on this as they chatter about Sean Connery and what flavor of soda to get.
"Oh there you are dude! We thought you got kidnapped!" Dustin suddenly crows beside Steve, he turns to see Eddie behind him, a strange expression on his face.
Oh thank God.
"Nah, just had a quick smoke before the movie man, uh actually I wanted to borrow Lucas for a sec if that's cool?"
The kids look from Eddie to Steve, as though to check if he knows what's going on, Eddie hasn't been this shifty since March when Chrissy's death hit the news.
Steve nudges Lucas by the shoulder, leaning slightly down to say, "I'll grab your snacks, go on".
Lucas gives him a confused look over his shoulder before following Eddie outside the entrance the doors swing closed just as Dustin whirls on Steve.
"What the hell was that!" He demands with crossed arms and a scowl on his face, his blue eyes scanning Steve's own for something, some information about what is going on outside.
"Yeah, you guys are being weird," Mike snarks from over his shoulder, he's standing with Will and El who watch the interaction with curious eyes, "first you take forever to come in and now this?"
And so much for the kids not picking up on it.
"You guys are pretty nosy," Steve hums, deflecting with a small smile as he ruffles Dustin's curls and steps forward with the rest of the line.
Dustin glares with narrowed eyes and huffs, "Fine, I'll just ask Lucas about it".
Steve snorts, he isn't sure if the kids have even talked about it. They've all been friends long enough now that this one event wouldn't be enough to hurt this kind of friendship. But it's certainly been on Dustin's mind since he was the one to bring it up to Steve that morning.
"Good idea," Steve says with a smile as he steps up the the counter, he looks at the kids before smiling at the clerk, "okay what's everyone having, let her know".
***
The lights have dimmed and the pre-show has started by the time Eddie and Lucas make their way over to the seats Steve and the kids have saved. Steve hands Lucas his popcorn and soda, sprite and orange crush mixed, as he makes his way over to the empty seat beside Dustin. There is a wide smile on his face, and it startles Steve slightly as he realizes he hasn't seen Lucas with one around Eddie in months.
His heart hurts at the thought.
Eddie drops down beside Steve, blowing out a long slow sigh as he does.
He scrubs a pair of ringed hands over his face roughly before finally relaxing into the shitty theater seat and reaching over to snag a handful of popcorn from Steve's bag, spilling kernels all over the place.
Steve rolls his eyes and tips the bag closer to Eddie who immediately grabs a second handful.
Eddie is facing the screen, but his eyes are trained on the seat in front of him, the projection illuminates his face in whites, yellows, greens, and blues as the movie begins and Steve can't look away.
He eventually tips his face towards Steve, "You were right," Eddie murmurs before finally taking in the screen as he looks away again. Even though he's sitting nearly boneless and slumped in the seat, his shoulders are tense, upset.
Guilty.
"I'm glad," Steve whispers, and he is.
The icy feeling of disappointment that held his chest in a tight vice grip all morning finally loosens as he leans into the armrest and feels the warmth of Eddie's shoulder soak into his own.
"Thanks Steve," Eddie whispers, his warm breath ghosting over Steve's ear as leans closer, letting their hands brush in the darkness of the theater.
Steve closes his eyes, and lets himself bask in the warmth, even for just a moment.
#steve harrington#stranger things season 4#everyone lives#protective steve harrington#mom!steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie isn't a bad guy but it was pretty shit how he treated lucas in volume one#the party#pre steddie#dancing around one another#hurt feelings#slight angst#where is all this angst coming from???#I dont think steve would have been very happy if he had found out in the show that dustin and mike had ditched lucas#but they are teenages so they get a bit more of a pass when it comes to this sort of thing
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOME COOKED MEAL — nanami kento
you bring itadori home for dinner & he gets to see a different side to kento
contents. aka you dig up some teenage photos of nanami, fem!reader, husband nanami, fluff, yuuji being your adopted son, i haven't watched the new ep (& i won't) but there is enough nanami angst so i am here to fix that — 1.7k
when you got ready to leave the school, your jacket on and bag tugged over your shoulder, you passed yuuji itadori in the halls, his expression suspiciously similar to a kicked puppy.
yuuji perked up a bit as you walked by, offering you a small smile and a wave. and though you considered heading on home for the night, eager to see your husband, you slowed, hesitant to leave the poor kid all alone.
“everything okay, yuuji?” you asked, frowning as he rested his elbows on his knees, studying a stain on the floor of the school.
“hm?” the teenager glanced up, eyes bright and wide. his sweet smile was back on his face, so innocent and kind. for someone who had been through so much already, he was more caring than many people that you’d met in your life. “oh, everything’s fine. everyone’s just out on missions, so i feel a little…” he pulled up one shoulder in a shrug. “useless.”
you knew it must have been hard for him, being a student that wasn’t quite like the others, having to train a little differently, adapt differently. but yuuji took it in stride, and he handled it better than any normal person would.
with a nod, you secured your bag around your other shoulder, shifting your feet. “it’s just going to be you here tonight, then?”
he hummed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. “i think so. some of the others might be around, but they’re resting up.”
“oh.” though you were certain yuuji had no qualms about spending an evening on his own, the thought of it made you feel like you were leaving a kitten out in the rain. almost pitiful.
yuuji waved before you could say another word, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “have a good night! i’ll see you tomorrow.”
the car ride was spent listening to yuuji tell you story after story, the boy opening up to you in a way that he hadn’t quite related to any of the other sorcerers, even gojo.
you smiled to yourself, enjoying his stories as you wondered how to tell kento that you were bringing your student home for dinner.
there was still a bridge to cross between them, and though you knew they both liked the other more than they let on, kento hadn’t quite connected to the boy like he wanted to.
you hoped that by inviting him over, yuuji would see that kento, truly, wasn’t as intense as he let on. he was sweet, caring, and he did have a sense of humor… even if gojo didn’t really believe that.
you led yuuji into the house, and stopped him when you heard the sound of kento in the kitchen. his mission had ended earlier than yours, and he’d offered to cook tonight; there would be more than enough food for the three of you.
“i’ll be right back,” you said, tapping yuuji on the shoulder. “let me go tell kento you’re here.”
you’d considered letting your husband know before you arrived, but you hadn’t wanted him to protest. kento would try to make a fuss of having a guest over, even if it was only yuuji, and he certainly didn’t care about formalities.
your heart skipped when you reached kento, his back turned, finishing up the meal that was steaming on the stove. even just standing in the threshold of the kitchen, you were overwhelmed with all of your love for him.
but it didn’t take much… it never had. you’d always been sickeningly in love with nanami kento.
your footsteps were soft as you snuck up behind him. “kento,” you said, just above a whisper, snaking your arms around his waist. you kissed the muscles between his shoulder blades, listening to the steady thrum of blood pumping through his body.
“hi, sweetheart.” he’d heard you approach, and he turned, eyes softening when he glanced at you over his shoulder. “everything okay at the school?”
you nodded, squeezing him tighter. even though you’d seen him just a few hours prior, it felt like a long time—time apart when you were battling curses always dragged as you worried for each other’s safety. “did your mission go okay?” you asked.
he took your hands from around his waist, bringing them to his lips softly. “everything went fine. dinner’s almost ready so—” then, he noticed your guilty expression, one that you were clearly horrible at hiding. “is something wrong?”
you smiled innocently. “no! i just… brought a guest.”
kento’s eyebrows raised, his smiling falling quickly. “well, you could’ve told me before.” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned around to face you.
“sorry, i thought i’d surprise you.”
kento’s lips drew into a thinner line. “honey, please tell me gojo satoru is not in my house right now. he’s not welcome here anymore, because the last time he almost destroyed our fucki—” kento glanced up, his words falling away as he glanced over your shoulder. “itadori. hello. i didn’t realize you were there.”
you turned, releasing kento as yuuji gawked back at you. he’d caught in such a loving embrace with kento. yuuji’s normally stoic teacher was in the middle of swearing, blonde hair tumbling over his forehead. kento had replaced his suit with casual wear, and his contacts had been taken out. in place of them were wire-rimmed glasses.
“nanamin!” yuuji gasped. “you look so different.”
“yes, well, i apologize for my apperance.” kento sighed, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “i wasn’t aware we were having guests.”
“one guest. its just yuuji,” you said, poking him in the middle of the chest as his professional tone returned, so easily taking over. “i don’t think he cares what you’re wearing.”
“no, i don’t!” yuuji backtracked, eyes wide as he shuffled forward. “no, you look cool, you don’t look so…”
kento raised his eyebrows, amused, even if yuuji couldn’t detect the humor in his expression. “so what?”
the boy’s cheeks turned pink, embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “um—”
“you don’t look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” you said, voicing yuuji’s obvious thoughts as you kissed kento on the cheek with a short laugh. of course, it was only to embarrass him further in front of his student.
kento feigned a scowl, but didn’t push you away, his gaze firmly planted on yuuji. “that’s because i try to keep my relationships at work strictly professional.”
“really?” yuuji grinned, stuffing his hands back in his pockets, his posture relaxing as he grew more comfortable in your home. “not very professional to marry someone you work with, is it?”
you laughed loudly, already caring so deeply for the boy that you’d known for such a short period of time.
“that was certainly an accident,” kento muttered, but his fingers lingered on your spine, tracing each of the bones. “i’ll have you know we were not working together when we got together.”
“really?” yuuji’s curiosity spiked. “how long have you been together, then?”
you thought back to when you were teenagers, when kento had a haircut that he had since regretted, and smiled mischievously. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through old photos, back from when you were just kids, the images grainy and of much lower quality than the ones from your recent vacation.
“hey, don’t show him those!” kento protested. he reached for your phone, but you scrambled under his arm, stretching your hand out to give yuuji the device. “itadori, don’t—” kento’s voice held a hint of panic, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he grabbed you around the waist, trying to stop you from giving yuuji the phone.
but it was already in yuuji’s hands, and you laughed loudly, knowing that while you looked a little more awkward than you did now, your appearance had changed near as drastically as kento’s.
yuuji squinted his eyes at a sixteen year old nanami, blond hair long enough to reach his eyes, dressed in an all black ensemble, an earbud in one ear. kento was hardly smiling, but you beamed next to him in the photo, dressed more childishly than you were now, but just as pretty. the image from when you still fumbled around each other, unsure how to admit that you were both in love.
a roar of laughter left yuuji as kento’s expression fell, and he released you, snapping the phone out of itadori’s palm. “that’s you, nanamin? no way. how did you…” yuuji glanced between you, squinting his eyes. “well, i guess looking at you now it makes sense.”
“i know,” you agreed, covering your smiles with your palms. “we looked a little silly together back then. i saw the potential in him, but satoru certainly loved to make fun of us, didn’t he, ken?”
“i have absolutely no desire to relive those days.”
yuuji laughed. “you were just like fushiguro, i bet!”
“scarily similar,” you agreed, as kento rolled his eyes beside you, putting your phone in his pocket to keep you from scavenging any older photos to share with the kid. “and he still loves to listen to—”
“don’t finish that sentence or i’ll save this dinner all for myself.”
yuuji eyes flew up to his hairline, but you just snorted, knowing that kento’s threats were about as scary as a puppy.
“he’s still sensitive about it,” you whispered to yuuji. “gojo and his friends made fun of him all the time.”
“oh really. just me?” kento retorted under his breath.
“you must have been pretty popular, then!” yuuji grinned. “if you were friends with gojo. he said all the girls in school loved him!”
kento made an irritated sound, stirring the spoon roughly against the pot. “well, satoru is the last person you should listen to. he has an ego bigger than the sun. and my wife is leading you astray. she was not similar to satoru, she was painfully shy, and it took weeks for either of us to talk to each other.” kento took the pan off the stove, peering over his shoulder at you. “and she is very lucky i love her too much to dig up any embarrassing stories of her.”
“well, stories about me aren’t that interesting anyway.” you laughed, pointedly turning your back to kento. “yuuji, the good news is, i’ve got some more photos in kento in the old photo books. let’s go see them!”
#i hope this shows up in the tags bc i’ve been fighting with tumblr ugh#kento nanami x reader#jjk x reader#nanami fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#kento nanami x you#nanami x reader#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
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141 and their captain’s assistant
- it all started with a comment made by Laswell, she mentioned to John how tired he seems, how his eye bags are growing heavier each day passing
- she recommended him to get an assistant, John declined the offer and tried to get back to work, but laswell already made the call, she knew how annoying John can be when it comes to getting help
- then enters a pretty little thing, your hair in a messy bun, glasses neatly resting on your pretty face, short pencil skirt hugging your curves perfectly
- John couldn’t help himself from staring, gawking at you like some horny teenager
- the boys began seeing you scurrying around the base more often, the first to approach you was Johnny of course
- his deep voice partnered with his thick Scottish accent made you subconsciously bite your lip, staring up at him with your big doe eyes, you don’t even mean to, it’s just that more than half of the people in here were 6feet+
- Johnny’s flirtatious nature made you giggle, lightened up your day, but not your boss’
- every time the Scott decided to drop by your desk to accompany you, he’d get scolded by his captain
- “don’t need you distracting her from her job”
- “it’s her break, cap, plus, she’ a good lass, I’m sure she’s on top of…all her work” the scott would throw you a wink before his captain orders him to run laps around the base
- next came gaz, since he’s always visiting his captain’s office for reports, he saw you at the new desk in the captain’s office, the aura around you not matching anything in the dim, old and boring office, you gave him a slight smile before returning to your paperwork
- but gaz wasn’t going to let that be the end of your interactions no no
- he’d walk up to you in the mess hall, as you’re loading your plate up, striking a conversation with you, making last long enough for him to lead you to a table with his other teammates
- you shyly but politely sit down and introduce yourself to the masked man who sat opposite of you, his brown eyes staring into yours as his arms stayed locked, he just nodded and replied “ghost”
- you figured he’s not a social one, the Scot and the Brit both kept asking you questions, some may have been a bit intrusive but maybe they’re just being friendly !
- “so why ar’ ye here?”
“Kate laswell requested that I work for John price for a few months to ease the paperwork load on him”
- “I’m sure there’s a different kind of load he’s trying to get you to ease off of him”
- the three of your heads snap to the silent man, his brown eyes seemed to be crinkled, suggesting he was grinning or smirking underneath that mask
- “OI! LT’s got jokes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it” Johnny tried to reassure you, glaring at Simon as you looked down at your food
- you excused yourself as you made your way back to price’s office, you saw him still there, no signs of him moving at all “captain ? Did you eat today?” You asked sweetly
- oh what this man wouldn’t give to have the honours of eating you for every meal of the day, to have you sprawled on his desk, papers sticking to your sweaty skin, your chest rising and falling as you try to quiet yourself so nobody hears what your captain is doing to you
- “captain” fuck he’d love to hear you moan his rank, begging him to be gentle, but he knows deep down you’re a dirty girl and you want your “captain ?!”
- John snapped out of his daydream, he looked up at you, you were leaning to the side trying to check on him “have you eaten today?” You asked again, a worried look in your eyes
- John nods, not looking you in the eyes “yeah yeah” he cleared his throat as he tried to get back to work, but your soft, smaller hand stopped him from grabbing his pen, his brown eyes looked up, ab eyebrow raised as if to ask ‘what are you doing?’
- “I’m sorry, captain but I can’t allow you to get back to work if you haven’t had food” you stated, your body trembling as you stood your ground
- truthfully, price can easily launch you across the room with one arm, he knows his limits, and you’re nowhere near it, but you were right, he does need to eat, and although he wishes he could order you to spread your pretty thighs for him and let him have his fun, he doesn’t want to lose such a pretty sight so fast
- he let go of the pen, leaning back on his office chair “I haven’t brought any food”
“The mess hall still have some food there”
- “I don’t eat that rubbish”
“Well too bad, you need to eat”
- ooh… I guess his little kitty got claws now
#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#ghost x reader#captain price#ghost#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kate laswell#john soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz x reader
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I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.
He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.
He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.
He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."
He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."
"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"
And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."
For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."
But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."
And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."
Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.
Eddie is ready to run.
But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steddie drabble#steddie au#florist steve harrington
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♡︎ 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙩2 ♡︎
characters: sub!dragons x nb!dom!reader
warnings: finger in vent again so vent fingering, established relationship, monster anatomy, clothes and undergarment stealing, clothes sniffing, the dragons are being a bit more feral, pillow humping, praise, pleading, thigh riding, guided vent fingering, squirting, nipple stimulation, bullet vibrator usage, mind break, fluff, needy dragon boys hehehehhehe
notes: due to popular demand, here is part 2 of dragons getting fucked dumb(●’◡’●)ﾉ im sorry if it took a while. i was having some health issues(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) part 1 can be read here!! gradient divider from @/benkeibear
word count: 4.9k
ever since you helped out your large lizard lover with his heat, there’s only been one thing on his mind since then. your finger in his vent. the soft coos of your praises, the way you pushed his legs open to fuck him dumber, the way you nudged his hands off of his face so you could see his cute face twist and turn in pleasure as you fuck his hole.
“oh, for fuck’s sake! i need to get them out of my head” the dragon huffs aloud out of a sudden, hunching over his desk at his usual office as he hides the flush of his cheeks behind his hands. already a week has passed since the ending of his heat cycle and yet he was acting like he was still under the influence of his stupid dragon anatomy. he couldn’t even stop thinking about you and your fingers spreading him open while he cried dumbly on the bed, back arching and chasing after your fingers like a whore.
it was after his heat ended and finally able to at least articulate proper sentences that wasn’t about wanting you to wreck him, that the two of you have talked over and decided that perhaps it was time to make your relationship official. how long have the two of you been dancing around each other, making everyone roll their eyes at the way you two flirted with each other like some dumb teenagers? enough to the point people started making bets. enough that a half of the city had become 50 bucks richer and the other half poorer.
despite having already gotten into an established relationship with you, the poor dragon still felt shameful over some of his actions. such as stealing your clothes whenever you come over to his house to stay the night and lying to your face about not knowing where it was. you two were still basically in the baby stages of being an official couple which was why you needed some time to fully move your things into his house and to start living together. it takes time to settle y’know?
so it was definitely weird when some of your clothes started to disappear. the shirt that you usually wear when at the comfort of your or his home. the large, oversized sweater of yours that you have given the nickname of “the ugly one”. and strangely, you even had a hard time finding a certain undergarment amongst the mess of your home and the boxes of things that you packed up, preparing to move. strange. and even more strange, your overgrown lizard lover says he hasn’t seen them in his own home either. you genuinely started to question your own memory.
in the meantime you were busy creating a storm in your home trying to triple check this week about your missing clothes, your boyfriend was having a hard time in his office. no matter how hard he tried to focus on the paperwork stacked in front of his damn face, he just couldn’t.
instead, his mind just kept drifting back to the memory of you helping him during his heat cycle. the praises that constantly fell on his ears as his toes curled, clawed hands scrambling to grasp for something to clutch onto because he was sure that he ascended when your finger fucked the small opening of his vent. and that lewd squelching noises of his slick dripping down from his vent. an oddly sickeningly sweet smelling scent coming from him as if trying to woo you, trails of his juice dripping from his vent down to his fluttering hole to the bed.
he was fucked dumb during those days and by the stars, he wanted it again. he wanted your hand fisting at his cocks, eagerly tugging on them as your finger abuses the squishy spot inside him. he wanted to sob and wail deliriously, bucking his hips, torn between wanting to chase after the pleasure or tearing himself away to save what leftover pride he had, as he begs for mercy. he wanted it. at this rate, if he kept thinking back on that moment, he might as well try to force his body into another heat cycle so soon.
shaking the imagery out of his head, the dragon clears his throat. looking around his office to see if anyone is around — to his luck, no one was — before breathing out a heavy huff. he might as well try to at least do his work during work time.
“maybe that chipmunk’s affinity to skip work is rubbing off on me…”
perhaps even more had rubbed off on him. none which was a good thing.
“i’m sorry… i’m sorry i’m sorry ‘m sorry, [name]…” the dragon whines pathetically, wearing the oversized sweater he stole from you and nothing else. he just couldn’t get that memory out of his head. every time he tried, something small and insignificant would just remind him of it again. unable to keep up with trying to seem all professional, he rushed home straight after work — perhaps even earlier than the hours he gets out of his office — locking himself in his bedroom with a pillow between his thighs, wearing your sweater with your stolen undergarments to his face.
despite having already been fucked shamelessly just ten or so days ago, it still felt wrong to think of you in such a lewd way. in such a defiling way. in a way that it served as a huge disservice to who you really are.
“mmnngh—! [naamee]… m-miss you… missing you so bad…” the dragon whines, completely pent up as his slick continues to drip onto the pillow between his thighs, the outer scales of his vent already puffy and open slightly, weeping his mouthwatering juice. the poor thing was pathetic, trying to recreate the way you wrecked him so good. fingers messily rubbing and flicking against his vent opening as a means to mimic the way you ate him out the other day. spreading his slick around, making a stretching motion with his two fingers on the sides of his vent, flicking the small nub on top. it didn’t help. if anything, it only made it worse.
the dragon was trying to help himself out, to relieve himself off of his pain of unknowingly edging himself for the past few days. without you by his side to help him out or to hear his pleas. without you by his side to fuck him so good again. palming himself with a pathetic whimper, the dragon thinks about slipping a finger inside his vent the same way you did. but could he do it? probably not. he was just too damn of a coward, and there was the looming possibility of losing control of himself and letting his claws grow.
unable to do it in the end, he settles on merely stroking his cock. hand wrapped tightly around his weeping dick, your stolen undergarments wrapped around one of his cocks as he mewls, bucking his hips into the tight space of his closed fist. it was nowhere near to how it felt when you did it. perhaps at the time, it was his heat pheromones working but it felt good. your hand wrapped around his cock as your other hand fingers his vent opening. your hand felt so much better.
biting down on his lips, he cums into his hand, soiling your stolen undergarments as well in the process just the moment he thought back on the feeling. pouting, the dragon’s tail flicks in annoyance behind him, looking over at the clock hanging on the wall.
12:36. were you awake right now? you did indeed had tendency to stay awake a bit too late on some nights…
knock knock knock!
the soft yet annoyingly persistent knocks on your door slowly rouses you from your sleep, making you roll around in the comfort of your bed in a silent declaration of war against the knocking. acting stubborn, clinging onto the cozy warmth of your bed, you groan as a string of curses falls from your lips as you involuntarily drag yourself out of bed. whoever that was outside your door in this ungodly hour shall face your wrath like sun wukong did with buddha.
pitter pattering to the door — where the knocking has become more persistent — you swing the door open, ready to curse the person and their 109 bloodlines before shutting up. standing in front of you with his tail and horns out in the open, slitted eyes glowing slightly, was your dragon lover. strange. he never visits this late.
“dear? wha— what happened? is everything alright? it’s—“ you take a moment to steal a glance towards the clock hanging on the living room wall before turning to face him again, “—nearly 2am” you finish, concern growing more and more when his tail comes to curl around his own ankle. a clear sign that he was feeling anxious or uncomfortable.
“can i… come in? i wanted to see you” the dragon asks in a meek voice, a strange habit that you found concerning and heartbreaking to see since your lover was usually one who is calm and collected at all times. nodding, you usher him inside before locking the door behind you.
quietly, you follow him as your lover makes a straight beeline into your bedroom, making himself comfortable on the edge of your bed as a pink flush starts to grow on his cute cheeks. you were about to ask him if he wanted something to eat or drink but perhaps not as the needy dragon was now staring at you as his tail swishes behind him, impatient. tails expressed emotions after all.
yawning, you move to sit beside him on the bed, to which you accept his hug when you finally settle down. his arms cones to wrap around your middle, tail now calming down from the earlier fussy movement as it curls around your calf possessively. humming, you run a hand through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.
the dragon loved it whenever you read him like he was an open book. to others, he was a stone wall, one that was made out of ancient scribbles and unintelligible runes. a warrior forged by blood and scent of death, one who was born and made by the cries of war and blind devotion from others. but to you, he was just a fellow being. one who was lonely from the many centuries he had spent, all by himself. struggling with the many different cultures of life, trying his best to learn and understand the human customs so he could properly court you in human traditions.
you two stay like that for some time. nestled against one another, just basking in the comfort of the peaceful life that you two found between yourselves.
“[name]…” the dragon whimpers from the crook of your neck, soft rumbling purrs mixing with his whining of your name. it was enough to snap you out of your sleepy state, making you hum as you acknowledge his call. he got your attention now. but the main point of hesitancy was — could he do it? could he be so shameful as to not only disturb your night of peace but to also be selfish to want you to pleasure him the same way you did a few days ago?
hearing the familiar noise of his tail hitting the bed constantly in a sense of irritation, you coo his name softly. one hand messing with the long strands of his hair while the other runs through his scalp.
“what’s on your mind now, my pretty?” you ask, taking a look at his face when it comes out of its hiding place in the crook of your neck. he seemed to be conflicted. brows furrowed, slitted eyes glowing slightly in the dark room while his lips tug in a small pout. laughing at the oddly adorable expression, you kiss his brows and pouty lips, making his purrs become louder. such a needy dragon.
“i’ve… been thinking,” the dragon starts after a while, taking his time to try and articulate his request and to convey his feelings that has been bothering him lately. a lot more than he initially thought they would.
“about how you helped me while i was in heat” he takes a moment, watching your expression closely to see if you caught the gist of what he was trying to say. you did, of course you did, you were a smart human after all. his smart human.
“and i was wondering if you could do it again…?” he finally manages to bring himself to ask, peering up at you through his lashes bashfully. how could you ever say no to such a face? such an ethereal and cute begging face alongside the promise of seeing his expression twist into one of someone who’s just fucked stupid. the cute face of your dragon lover drooling and sobbing fat tears while his heart shaped pupils stare at you in a silent plea for more. that face haunted your mind for too damn long, causing unnecessary moments of dozing off while remembering about the moment you slipped your finger inside, making your already horrible work ethnic drop to below ground level.
“sure. i wouldn’t mind it, pretty” you hum, any ounce of sleep leaving your body as you move to a more comfortable position on the bed. pushing yourself to lean against the headboard of the bed, you watch as your draconic lover takes his place on your lap. clawed hands coming to fist at the material of your pajama shirt, whining your name as he pushes himself flush against your chest. you could feel the mounds of his chest pressing against your own, his tail swishing behind him as he arches his back. your lips is pulled against his own, a small peck easily turning into a heated, messy make out. his forked tongue shyly licking at your lips, purring contently as his long tongue slithers inside you, exploring every nook and cranny needily.
you could feel his hips humping your thigh, the wetness of his vent weeping his precum already starting to stain his pajama pants and seeping into your own. you could tell he was too aroused, dumbly chasing after any ounce of pleasure there could be. you could feel the way your mixed saliva dripped down from your sloppy open mouthed kisses, his hands guiding yours to rest on his hips. a position you used to your advantage as your hands traveled downwards to knead his ass, squeezing the soft fat as he whimpers into the kiss.
the poor thing was so pent up, humping your thighs didn’t felt enough. it wasn’t enough to get him to that familiar feeling of high, that exhilarating feeling of feeling your fingers stretch his vent open while he could only keen like a whore.
“want it… want it so bad…” he mumbles into the kiss, guiding your hands to the hem of his pajama pants, tugging on them fervently to get the clothes off. you simply chuckle, finding his desperation adorable in more ways than one before finally relenting and slipping off his pants before he let out an annoyed hiss, pulling away from the sloppy make out session to tear off his underwear with his claws.
“darling! why would you rip it off?” you ask, amused by his eagerness but also slightly concerned for the way he just easily ripped off his clothes like that. you have never seen him get even the tiniest bit ticked off after all, so this was a new side of him that you were seeing.
“wanted more” he only huffs, demanding more kisses as he returns to shove his forked tongue down your throat. the length of his tongue got you groaning and panting, finding it harder to breathe as he becomes more needy with every kiss, with every sloppy slurp of your tongue against his own.
“mmnhp—! [nameee]♡︎” he let out a yelp, pulling away from the kiss to whine out your name as he felt your fingers knead his vent open. the poor dragon whined, huffing and puffing about how you were being so mean to him as he humps your thigh, the tips of his cocks slowly emerging from the scaled vent, both of his cocks weeping pre all over your clothes as his vent drips with his own arousal.
shifting him around, you let him lean his back onto your chest, hands hooking under his legs to spread them open. your dragon let out a little hiss, talking about how you weren’t paying attention to him. you simply shush his hissy fit with a chuckle, placing a kiss on his forehead. taking his hand, you tell him to withdraw his claws. an action he does with confusion before he let out a whimper when you guide his hand to his vent.
“b-but… i-i don’t think i can do it. i’m nervous!” he says in a panicked tone, turning his head to stare at you with cute pouty lips and wide eyes.
“yes, you can. i’ll guide you through it all, okay? it’ll feel good, promise darling” you say, peppering his face in kisses to soothe his worries. the dragon preens at that, his purrs getting louder as his tail whacks the mattress of your bed impatiently. once you get the hint that he was ready and he was okay with continuing, you guide his fingers to tease the edges of his vent. fingers rubbing the soft scales, making a spreading motion to ease the muscles there.
just some foreplay and he was already panting, legs twitching to close them. he was so cute.
“that’s it pretty, now keep your legs open for me” you continue to praise him through it all, your other hand leaving his leg to slip underneath his shirt. squeezing his chest, rubbing your thumb over his areola, you pinch at his nipple when it hardens, causing him to jolt in your embrace. whispering more praises of how he was doing so well, how he was your pretty boy, your beloved dragon, your hand guides his own to slip a finger inside his now loose vent.
“u-uunngh!! mmghh… mnngh… t-tight♡︎ too tight! w-won’t fit…♡︎!” he blabbers, throwing his head back on your shoulder as you slowly ease his finger deeper inside his vent. first, second knuckle until his middle finger was slipped deep inside the tight hole of his opening, legs shaking on the bed already like a fawn’s. there were already tears starting to form in his eyes, jaw slack open as heavy breaths fall. not a single thought behind his teary eyes. nothing but the pleasure your guidance and his fingers were bringing him.
“that’s it… that’s my pretty dragon, keep going” you coo out, pleased by how easily he broke under a simple pleasure of fingering his own vent. when he pathetically humps the air — finger still inside — you pull on his nipple to remind him how to do it. squealing at the amount of pleasure coming from both his nipples and vent, the dragon shakes his head, fat globs of tears already falling.
“c-can’t! can’t do it. [n-name] i need you♡︎♡︎ need your fingers so bad♡︎!“ he stutters, legs already shaking, about to close shut. too caught up in his own pleasure that he doesn’t even know what to do to properly pleasure himself even when you were here to guide him through it. clicking your tongue, you guide his hand to pull his finger out, something he couldn’t even perform without your help. he really was a goner with you.
“then, be a sweetheart and play with your tits for me, pretty. wanna see your cute breasts jiggle while i fuck you” you tell him, watching with endearment as he nods dumbly. hands coming up to push his shirt up, fingers twisting and pinching at his own hardened nipples. stuttered breaths fall from his lips when he could feel your thumb swipe at the slit of one of his cocks, jolting in place when you give his weeping cock a few pumps. the few visible veins in them were bulging, ready to pop and for him to squirt yet again if you just stop teasing him around!
but doing the same thing over and over again sounded boring to you. your sweet dragon deserved some treats for being such a good boy after all. he deserved some pampering.
“ah! gimme a second, darling” you snap your fingers, an idea forming in your head. he lets out a soft confused hum at that, hands still holding onto the soft mounds of his chest as he watches you move away to reach over to your bedside nightstand. opening the top drawer, he watches in curiosity as you bring out an odd small device that was connected to a small remote control by quite the lengthy wire. the color all cute pink, the toy small and nearly the size of a small hairclip but pretty girthy in width. were you… thinking on putting that inside him?
“it’s called a bullet vibrator. apparently, it’s supposed to add vibrations to any place of your choosing. and since i found out of your soft spot, i thought maybe we could try it out?” you explain to him, slowly unwrapping the long wire of the toy. it was quite lengthy. perfect to use it for his soft spot.
“only if you’re comfortable with it, dear. i wouldn’t want you to try anything you think you’re not ready for or feel comfortable with” you quickly say, ready to throw the toy away for another time when you feel the grip of his tail around your ankle. the soft smooth scales creating a soft, bristling sensation on your bare skin. if he could remember carefully, the most he took in his vent were two fingers. but it proved that his vent could be quite stretchy and take something more if given enough foreplay and gentle ministrations.
“i… i don’t think i would mind it. it sounds kind of fun, actually” he says after a moment of thinking on the matter, accepting the fact that yes, he can take it. he wanted to try these new feelings and challenges with you. everything would be right when with you.
“i would love to try this new toy” he finally comes to a conclusion, turning his head so he could place kisses on your neck and cheeks, purring in happiness when he could hear you chuckling. you should laugh more. the dragon loved the sound of your laughter — like soft bells chiming in the morning.
patting his thigh to tell him to open up his legs further, it was now your turn to plant kisses on his neck. you couldn’t exactly bite his shoulders as he still had his pajama shirt on, but you can take care of it tomorrow morning. so, you settle on peppering kisses on his neck, the faint scales that were around his artery, giving it a light suckle to which you got a breathy moan for. all the while you allow his vent to get used to the feeling of the toy, the material of it and its size, simply rubbing it over the soft outer scales.
“gonna push it in, okay pretty?” you whisper in his ear, to which he whimpered and nodded, one of his hands leaving his chest to intertwine his hand with yours. so cute. you can only hope he won’t crush your hand accidentally.
ever so softly, whispering praises to how good he was taking the toy into the shell of his ear, you take in the delicious noises he makes with a great amount of pride. the great and only dragon who could wipe out an entire nation off of the face of the earth, choosing you as his mate and bonding with you. having his faith in you that you would take good care of him and his pleasures. it was a heavy emotion and one that comes with responsibility to a certain degree and you would always be sure to handle the heart of his that he willingly gave you, with tenderness of a first snow.
“aaah mmggh—! uungh♡︎ it’s in! i-it’s aaaanhg♡︎♡︎ hummg♥︎ inside... it’s insiiiecckk—♡︎♥︎!!” your dragon squeals, hips thrusting back and forth into the air as he feels the soft round edge of the toy pressed against the soft spongy spot inside his vent. it felt foreign to have something other than your hand touch him there, perhaps even disrespectful since it was supposed to be the only soft spot that only you must have the privilege to know and touch! but for the sake of this new level of pleasure that you promised, he swallowed his hissy fits, instead replacing them with a whiny soft moan.
“i know, pretty. i know. deep breaths for me, pretty” you murmur, giving soft squeezes to his hand that was tightly holding your own. his tail starting to wrap around your ankle and up your calf further with the fluffy haired end wagging in the air playfully around your knees. you let him get used to the feeling of the toy first. gently rubbing it back and forth on his spongy spot, hearing the way his breathing picks up pace as he throws his head onto your shoulder.
“gonna turn it on now, pretty” you warn him, keeping a close eye on the way his expression shifts. if he shows the slightest bit of pain, uncomfortable feelings or signs of discomfort, you were going to ditch the idea. a moment of pleasure is not worth loosing your comfort over, after all. thankfully, he was reacting well to the new intrusion. only positive notes of his pleasured noises and star crossed eyes. you say it to him again, this time just a bit louder with a squeeze to his hand in case he was starting to lose himself. that seemed to snap him out of his trance. just enough to nod his head to you.
“o-okay… okayhhh i understaaaNGGHH!! [n-name]♥︎♥︎[namenamenamenam]—♥︎♥︎ h-haaangh mmhg s-shoo much♡︎ f-feelsh too much♡︎♥︎!!” just a single switch to the lowest level of the vibrator and he was already shrieking, sobbing and thrashing about on the bed. legs shutting around your hand instinctively, salty globs of tears falling as he goes slack jawed. his entire body shakes as he squirts into his stomach, but this time, he squirted from both of his cocks at the same time. the pretty pink tips weakly letting out a few more drops before he was fully hard on both cocks again.
all the while, you watched with an ever growing jubilation as your lover is reduced to this mess on your lap. legs shaking like a newborn fawn’s, cheeks and pointy ears a lovely shade of red as his jaw hangs slack open. every now and then, he would go quiet, arch his back off of you before a loud shriek would follow as the vibrator hits just right. you could see hearts in his eyes, completely docile as his pupils grow wide, so much so you could barely see the glow of his eye color.
so pathetically cute as he mewls your name in a slurred gibberish, repeating it over and over like a broken record. a broken recording that only had one word and is stuck in an eternal loop to say that recording. the most prettiest one. one that you wanted to be selfish and hear all day, everyday.
“u-uuuugckk! aaaanhg gyanh!! mrrrph— luv you♡︎ luvyouluvyouluvyous’much♥︎! luv yoouugh [n-naamee], luv you sho muchhh♡︎♡︎ f-fuUUNGK—♥︎♥︎” he trashes about on the bed, constant declaration of love falling from his lips, kicking his legs at the blanket as he sobs deliriously until he squirts yet again. his own cum splattering over to his chest, soiling his shirt and wetting his still hard pink nipples. you give one of them a pinch, delighted as he mewls in a hoarse voice. pinching and tugging on the cute nub, rubbing the still vibrating toy around his spongy spot, you watch in sheer adoration and obsession as he shoots blanks.
turning off the toy, you coax his legs open so you could move your hand and slip the toy out of his vent. when the girth of the toy slowly slips out of his abused now puffy vent, your dragon lets out a sob as his hips jolt violently. you could see his juices dripping out of his fluttering vent, wanting to finger it back inside him but knowing that it would push him way too far over his limits.
“shh shh, there there, pretty. i got you. you did so amazing” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle to pull him flush against yourself. wiping away his tears and drool, you places butterfly kisses over his face as you ground him back to his mind. he was far too gone and he hated having baths when he was way too lost in his subspace. if he isn’t responsive enough when bathing together, he will throw yet another hissy fit.
“mmmgh… tired…” you could hear him croak out after a long time of rocking him in your arms. he was slowly coming back which meant it was time for a bath. but until he fully regains his mind, it was better to cuddle him close as his tail has a mind of its own and has yet to let go of your ankle. at all.
smooch! maybe another kiss to his pink cheeks would help him ground himself faster.
#nobu.writes#sub genshin impact#sub!genshin impact#sub!genshin#sub genshin#sub zhongli#sub!zhongli#sub neuvillette#sub!neuvillette#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut#dan heng x reader#dan feng x reader#dan heng smut#sub wuthering waves#wuthering waves#wuthering waves x reader#sub honkai star rail#sub hsr#sub dan heng#sub!dan heng#dom reader#gender neutral reader#sub character
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something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…
includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe
note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!
link to part two + link to part three
i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.
no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.
no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.
and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.
the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.
so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.
things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.
conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…
one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.
when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.
a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.
gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.
"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"
while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.
"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"
"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."
he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.
"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"
the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"
"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.
the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.
"miss what, daddy?"
"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."
"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-
"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"
"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.
"jeez kid, just answer the question."
she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.
she doesn't budge.
"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."
with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.
"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"
ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.
"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."
she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."
"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."
20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk imagines
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my sweet assistant
- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader
part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…
part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni
authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)
part two of the inescapable love series
inescapable love series
･ ｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･
11.5K words
People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.
The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.
The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.
You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.
Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.
The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.
When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”
It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”
"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."
The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"
The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."
"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."
Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."
You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.
Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."
Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"
A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"
As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"
Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."
This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."
The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"
You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."
"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."
The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"
Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."
She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."
You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."
You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.
———
"When are you back again?"
"Friday night. About nine-ish?"
You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."
As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.
But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.
You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"
Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.
"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."
The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"
You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"
As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."
Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"
"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."
"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"
You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.
"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."
Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."
———
The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.
Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.
"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.
"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."
The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"
"Y/N Y/L/N."
Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"
Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."
"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.
"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."
The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"
A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."
With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”
Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."
Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."
Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"
"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."
———
The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.
There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.
Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.
Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.
All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.
Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.
That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.
———
"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"
Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.
Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."
A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"
You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.
“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”
You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”
Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.
“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”
You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.
“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”
You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”
“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.
It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.
“You getting on alright, milaya?”
The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”
She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”
Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”
You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.
“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”
“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”
Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”
There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.
“So what about you?”
“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.
“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.
“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”
An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?
You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”
A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”
Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.
Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”
Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”
She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”
You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.
Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”
Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”
The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”
“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”
A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”
You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.
“And what to do you want to do?”
“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.
“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”
Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”
Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.
“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.
You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”
“Why don’t you do it then?”
Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”
“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”
Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”
Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.
You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.
The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.
Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.
You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.
“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.
“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”
Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.
“Are you okay? What’s up?”
A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“
You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”
“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.
You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“
“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”
Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.
“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”
“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”
You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”
If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”
Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”
“Language building, room ML4.”
“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”
You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”
With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”
Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”
“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”
The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”
“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”
“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”
“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.
“I’m sure, Y/N.”
“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.
Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.
Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”
Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.
But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”
Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.
You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”
The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”
“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”
Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.
The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”
Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.
You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”
You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.
This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”
You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”
Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”
“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”
The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”
The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?
———
Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.
Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.
Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.
One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.
Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.
"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."
At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."
Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"
Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?
"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.
Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."
A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"
You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.
"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.
"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."
Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.
But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"
"Go on, milaya."
You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."
Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"
You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"
Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."
Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"
"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."
You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.
"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."
#inescapable love au#professor natasha romanoff#lawyer wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wandanat x reader#wanda x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#platonic kate bishop x reader
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Teenage Dirtbag IX (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)
Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
~
The first thing you registered was the most painful pounding in your head.
You didn’t drink often, and when you did, it certainly was never to the degree that you did last night. Your throat felt scratchy, your mouth felt dry, and your eyes felt tight. However, you felt like that last one had nothing to do with the drinking. Bits and pieces from the previous night came back to you, and you remembered crying into JJ’s arms about Rafe.
At the thought of your boyfriend, something tugged at the back of your mind.
You were lying down on an unfamiliar surface, both the fabric beneath you and the smell of the room foreign. It smelled like a mix of weed and ocean water and burnt wood, making your nose twitch, and when you finally peeled your eyes open…you paused.
Kie was knocked out on the chair across from you.
You stared at her for a good while in confusion before it registered that Kie wasn’t asleep at your house because you weren’t at your house. Your lips parted as you slowly lifted your head, eyes roaming over the inside of a house you’d only been in twice. You were still at John B.’s, and there was that tugging in the back of your mind again, something important—yet still unknown—nagging at you.
Much more awake, now, the rest of the night came back to you.
You’d drunkenly confessed the true nature of your relationship to JJ—something you were still conflicted about—and he’d kissed you again. You didn’t know if it was the kiss or the full weight of your confession hitting you, but you remembered stumbling away. You remembered drinking some more, throwing them back at an alarming rate, and ignoring JJ’s concern as he discreetly tried to get you to stop.
You recalled throwing yourself into another drinking game with Sarah and her friends, something that resulted in your head in the toilet. Your attitude had been contagious, Sarah and Cleo and Kie sharing a similar fate. John B. and Pope were high, you weren’t trying to listen to a word JJ said, and you’d passed out on the couch.
You’d passed out on the couch.
You hurriedly sat up at that thought, eyes wide and stomach turning.
You’d briefly wondered what time it was, but it only now registered that light was bleeding in through the window, and it wasn’t the light of the moon. Within seconds your entire body felt overheated, and your heart felt like it was in your throat. Stumbling to your feet, you almost tripped over Sarah on the floor, the loud thud of your foot making her groan.
“Oh my God,” you breathed, frantically looking around for your phone.
You heard Sarah mumble something as you rushed around the room before pausing.
You’d left your phone at Kie’s to make Rafe think you were still over there. You pressed your hand to your mouth, feeling like you were going to be sick, head spinning. It was the next day, and you didn’t doubt that you probably had hundreds of missed calls from Rafe, knowing your boyfriend well enough to know he would only call so much before just getting in his truck.
“Oh my God,” you mumbled again, and by this point, Sarah was waking up.
“What?” she groaned. “What time is it?”
Your stomach wouldn’t stop jumping, and you frantically blinked back tears.
“I need to call Rafe,” you forced out, trying to not be sick.
Sarah wasn’t reacting fast enough for you, sighing and sitting up, blonde hair going every which way.
“What…?”
“I need to call Rafe!”
You hadn’t meant to sound so shrill, Kie making a noise of disapproval as she was forced to wake up. You didn’t even consider that you’d be waking up the whole house, quickly wiping your eyes. Sarah was fully lucid and awake now, hurriedly standing and worriedly eyeing you. She swallowed, pausing for half a second before looking around for her phone.
You only just noticed that JJ was sleeping on the floor closest to John B.’s room, the blond standing as Sarah spotted her phone on the table. You pressed your hands to your face, trying to slow your breathing, but nothing was working. The air felt too thick, and your head felt too spacey, and your fingers wouldn’t stop trembling.
“Y/N…”
You ignored JJ, snatching Sarah’s phone as she handed it to you.
“Hey, I’ll talk to Rafe,” she gently offered. “You just got drunk and passed out. He’ll…”
You didn’t hear the rest of Sarah’s words, quickly making your way outside to the porch. You heard her sigh, Kie’s voice just barely reaching your ears as she asked something. Your hand wouldn’t stop shaking as you held it to your mouth, the other pressing Sarah’s phone to your ear. Your back was pressed to the wall as you sat down, knees pulled up onto the bench. You took a deep breath to try and calm yourself again, but it was in vain.
…because Rafe answered on the first ring.
“Where the hell-?”
“Rafe…”
You softly cut him off, swallowing at the silence that met you. Any remnants of a hangover were long gone the moment you realized you’d slept at John B.’s. The fear of what waited for you when you went home had sobered you up, mind going a mile a minute as you wondered what you were thinking last night. Rafe was so quiet—you couldn’t even hear him breathing—and you felt a few tears escape.
“Rafe-.”
“Where are you?”
The question was simple enough, but you actually felt bile rise in your throat at the thought of the answer. You briefly closed your eyes, pulling your lip between your teeth.
“I’m with Sarah and Kie and-.”
“I didn’t ask you who you were with…” you sank in your seat. “I asked where you were.”
You pressed your fingers to your lips, staring out into John B.’s yard. Your gaze focused on his van as the door opened, Pope scratching his head as he stepped out, and you surmised that he and Cleo had slept in there. Your eyes passed over them and focused on the dock out near the water, memories of what you did out there last night plaguing your thoughts.
“I’m already pissed, so…don’t make it worse by having me repeat myself.”
You pressed your hand to your face, fighting back tears and so angry with yourself for screwing up so bad.
“I’m… I’m at John B.’s.”
The immediate disconnect made more tears escape, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You heard someone step outside onto the porch—joining you—and the silence told you exactly who it was. You didn’t acknowledge him, looking away, and you weren’t sure why. He’d already seen you at your worst last night, but last night was different.
Last night you were drunk and running from your problems by chasing a bottle. Today you were sober and ashamed and wholly afraid of what was going to happen. Someone finally knew, but yet you felt no relief. You didn’t know how to handle someone else knowing why you were so afraid and quiet, right now.
“Is he coming here?”
JJ’s voice was clipped, and you could only nod. Recalling that you had Sarah’s phone, you handed it to him, avoiding his gaze.
“Can you give that back to Sarah?” you sniffed. “…and tell her I’m sorry for snapping like that.”
He didn’t respond right away.
“Y/N…”
His tone had you shaking your head, looking back out into the yard as Pope and Cleo made their way to the house.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered.
You both greeted them as they went inside the house, and from the corner of your eye, you could see JJ lean in.
“Just let me take you back to Kie’s, and then you can wait for him at home.”
You let out a bitter laugh, nodding.
“He’s already on his way…”
That you knew for a fact.
“As bad as things already are, trust me that it’ll be much worse if he gets here, and I’m gone,” you told JJ, finally meeting his eye.
You couldn’t place the look on his face, but you didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched as he stared at you. There was a huge elephant in the room between you, and for once, it wasn’t the kiss nor your complicated feelings for the blond before you. For two years, you’d been utterly alone in dealing with Rafe’s wrath, and you didn’t quite know how to feel at the worry bleeding into JJ’s gaze.
“You should go inside,” you quietly told him with a shrug. “I can’t imagine what would happen if he knew you guys were here too.”
JJ looked as if he didn’t want to listen to you, but eventually he did, and you were alone again with your thoughts. Even if you wanted to savor the memory of kissing JJ again, you couldn’t. The whole thing was tainted beyond belief, and if it weren’t for him periodically sleeping in your pool house, you would be sure that you’d never have the chance to see him again after today.
It was some time before you heard the familiar rumble of a truck, and you knew that Rafe had wasted no time and had probably run every stop sign just to get here. You glanced over when Sarah joined you on the porch, gaze apologetic as you stood.
“Let me talk to him,” she offered again. “What can he possibly say to a few girls having too much to drink and crashing?”
There was a silent agreement that Rafe couldn’t know about the guys’ involvement.
“You’d be surprised,” was all you said, sighing at Sarah’s pleading look. “That’s nice of you, Sarah, but I doubt it’ll make him feel any better.”
She merely ran her hand through her hair as Rafe’s truck came into view. The sight of it made your heart skip a beat, and the blonde teenager huffed.
“You know you deserve better, right?”
Her comment threw you, and unsure of how to respond, you only sent her a shaky smile.
“I’m serious,” she sneered, walking outside with you close behind. “He treats you like he doesn’t trust you, and instead of just going to therapy…”
Her words became louder once Rafe opened the driver’s side.
“…he’d rather take it out on you.”
“I’m not in the mood, Sarah.”
Rafe was talking to his sister, but you didn’t miss the cold look he fixed you with as he approached you. You shuddered when he placed a hand on the back of your neck the moment he reached you, lips grazing your forehead as he leaned in.
“…and you really have no reason for that. I took care of your girlfriend just fine,” she told him. “We just had too much to drink, and we fell asleep.”
Your boyfriend just hummed, pulling away to hold your gaze.
“Was that before or after the movie?”
His question came out low, so you knew that was solely for you, and when you merely pressed your lips together, Rafe’s nostrils flared. His hand was still on your neck as he guided you to the passenger’s side, only making the odd hum here and there as Sarah tried to plead your case. When he closed your door, your gaze traveled to the house, eyes lingering on the window as if you could see JJ inside.
“Give it a rest, Sarah,” you heard Rafe say as he opened his door. “You don’t think I know that you hate her being with me? Hmm?”
There was a heavy pause.
“I think you could treat her better, yes, but… You make it seem like I’m doing these things on purpose, Rafe!” Sarah hissed. “It was just girls having fun, and we lost track of time! You’re acting like she committed some grave offense instead of just behaving like a normal twenty-year-old.”
Your boyfriend didn’t respond to that, shutting the door in her face, and you reluctantly put on your seatbelt as he started his truck. You leaned your head back as you stared out of the window, savoring the view because this would be the last time you’d ever be on The Cut. At this point, Rafe was never going to let you out of his sight again if he could help it.
Reluctantly, you glanced at him, and your heart sank at the way he absolutely refused to look at you. Even if his knuckles weren’t completely white as his fingers clutched the wheel, you could almost feel the negativity radiating off of him. Against your better judgement, you said something.
“Rafe…”
You were cautious, unsure of how to proceed.
You’d never fucked up this bad before.
“Rafe, I…”
Your words died in the air when he held a hand up, not sparing you a glance. Mentally preparing yourself for what awaited you, you told yourself not to push your luck, sitting back and turning towards the window.
“Please, say something.”
You closed the front door behind you as Rafe made his way to the kitchen, basically ignoring you. Sarah was still at John B.’s, Ward was probably out taking care of business, and there was no telling where Rose was. Wheezie was probably the only one home, and you were only mildly sure of that only because she rarely left her room.
“Why? So you can give me some more excuses for you not coming home?”
You watched him grab a pot, opening the fridge.
“They wanted to smoke a blunt, and Kie didn’t want her parents’ house smelling like weed.”
It was technically the truth, only you didn’t specify who ‘they’ were. Rafe softly laughed to himself, but it was dry, lacking in humor. You watched him place a pack of hot dogs on the counter, filling the pot with water.
“Why should I believe you?”
His question came out quiet, and you swallowed when he glanced over his shoulder.
“You left your car and your phone at Kie’s,” he murmured, back facing you again. “Almost like you wanted me to believe you were somewhere you actually weren’t.”
You touched your forehead.
“That’s not what happened,” you whispered. “We were in a rush, and I wasn’t thinking.”
“Convenient,” you heard him drawl. “Just as convenient as you ‘knocking out pretty early’ the other week too when I went to Charlotte.”
Your heart dropped at that, and you pressed your lips together when Rafe fully turned around, leaning against the counter. He stared you down, and you frowned at him.
“I mean, what are the chances that you’ve done this twice, now?”
“Rafe-.”
“You see where my head is at though, right?” he wondered, gently touching his temple. “You see why I’m looking at my girlfriend and wondering if she’s actually a sneaky bitch.”
You flinched at the insult.
“…and what if it wasn’t even just you girls?”
“Rafe,” you started, stepping towards him.
“What if John B. and Pope were there? JJ?” he sneered, lip curling over his teeth. “What if you and your new little sidekick are lying to me?”
You took a deep breath.
“You don’t believe that,” you whispered. “…because if you did…”
You threw your hands up.
“We wouldn’t be standing here…talking…”
Rafe crossed his arms over his chest, lips downturned as he nodded. He stared at you for a nerve-wracking amount of time, blue eyes intense and unmoving. You didn’t know what he was thinking, and that always scared you more than knowing. When he let out a small sigh after some time, you didn’t allow yourself to feel relief just yet.
“Come here…”
Resisting the urge to hesitate, you did. There was no escaping whatever Rafe wanted to do, only prolonging it, and you expected a slap or a harsh tug on your arm or even a hand around your throat. You did not expect, however, his hand in your hair and another on the back of your neck. A pained gasp was all that escaped you, the events happening so fast that you only gathered your thoughts in time to press your hand into the counter.
Your face was hovering above the pot of boiling hot water, the steam and heat hitting your skin and making you wince. Your other hand came up on the other side, pressing into the stovetop, and Rafe only pressed down harder on your head. You cried out in pain as you fought to push against his hand, and Rafe only moved closer.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, the heat making them water.
“It’s interesting how when I’m around or just around the corner, that phone of yours is glued to your hip…as it should be…”
He pushed your face further down, the sound of the bubbling water reaching your ears.
“…but the moment I give you an inch, the moment I try to be nice,” he hissed. “…all of a sudden you barely give it a second thought, and you just leave it wherever you told me you’d be.”
“Rafe,” you gasped, peeling your eyes open and staring into the hot water.
Your hand slid along the counter, hands clammy from fear and nerves.
“How fucking convenient,” he spat, pressing harder against the back of your head.
You could feel tears spilling over just as Wheezie’s voice reached your ears from the stairs. Rafe let you go, and you stumbled away from him, backing up into the fridge. Rafe’s entire visage was taut, eyes venomous and jaw ticking as he stared you down. Your eyes were wide, and you tearfully blinked, hurrying to wipe your face just as his youngest sister strode into the kitchen.
She scoffed.
“You’re not done with the hotdogs yet?” she practically whined. “You just put them in the water and boil them, Rafe.”
When he looked at her, his face softened some, and he chuckled.
“My bad, Wheezie,” he smiled. “Y/N keeps distracting me.”
They both looked at you, and you swallowed just as she sighed.
“He owes me hotdogs,” the younger girl told you. “You can have some too, but neither one of us will get any if he doesn’t actually cook them.”
She threw him a look to which he lightly laughed, turning back to the stove. You eyed the pot of hot water, pressing your nails into the counter as you cleared your throat.
“Sorry, Wheez,” you breathed. “I’ll try to keep him focused.”
Your voice was shaky, and when Rafe simply glanced at you, dropping the hotdogs in the water, you pressed your hand to your cheek, trying to cool your skin down.
You rinsed out your tub with trembling hands, watching the pink water swirl down the drain. You hadn’t stopped crying since last night, mostly quiet sniffles the moment Rafe rolled off of you, but you hadn’t been able to keep as quiet the moment he left this morning. With one look at the blood on your sheets, you wanted to throw up, but all you’d managed to do was break down.
You couldn’t take any more pain killers, so all that was left was a warm Epsom salt bath. It was far from relaxing, your sobs echoing around the bathroom as you scrubbed off semen and blood. One look in the mirror had you flinching, and you were never more grateful that your parents were out of town until Friday because you were sure this was the worst you’d ever looked. To make matters worse, you just knew the discoloration under your eye was only going to darken.
You tied your robe tight around you as you left your bathroom.
Only to stop short at the sight of JJ.
Your eyes were wide at the picture before you, the blond man standing in your bedroom. Your lips parted, and you opened and closed them, unsure of what to say or do. However, you quickly decided on something once you realized that he wasn’t even looking at you…but instead the sheets you hadn’t managed to pull off the bed.
“JJ…what…?”
You hurried across the room, throwing your comforter over your bed and facing him, gaze questioning. When his blue eye met yours, it wasn’t the warm welcome you were used to, and you hoped that he would ignore what he saw, but he didn’t. His eyes flitted over your face, drinking you in.
“What did he do to you?” he spat, teeth clenched.
You crossed your arms over your chest, looking around him and eyeing your open window.
“Did you break into my room?”
His expression didn’t change, and accepting that he was going to ignore your question until you answered his, you sighed.
“I don’t want to talk about that, JJ,” you whispered.
“Well, that’s too fucking bad,” he whispered back, moving closer. “…because you’re going to, or I’m telling Sarah.”
You blinked at him, disbelief filling you, and you scoffed. Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes towards the ceiling, falling to sit on the edge of your bed.
“What do you think happened?” you tearfully wondered, shrugging. “I screwed up…and I will be lucky if I can even go pee in a public restroom without him standing over my shoulder.”
Your lips trembled, and you looked away, tears falling. You could feel the blonde’s eyes on you, and you wiped your face.
“What are you doing here, JJ?” you asked in a small voice.
The other guy moved closer, looking down at you, and you swallowed under his scrutiny.
“After the other night and yesterday morning, I had… I had to make sure that…”
He trailed off, no point in finishing because it was visibly obvious that you weren’t okay.
“I saw when you both came home last night, and I climbed up as soon as he left this morning,” he continued. “I really wanted you to be okay.”
His tone sounded defeated, and you wiped your face again. When he touched your face, you winced, and you didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his hand, eyes falling closed when his other hand gently found a home on the back of your head, pushing you to rest your forehead against his torso.
“Where is he?” he asked, voice hard.
“He went to the club with Kelce and Topper,” you murmured. “He’ll be calling every hour or so.”
The ‘or so’ was to keep you on your toes. It was late into the night when he drove you to Kie’s, closely hovering as you got both your phone and your car, truck tailgating you the entire drive home. The moment you’d made it inside of your house, you’d been pushed onto the floor. What commenced was just a blur of harsh kicks and harsh words, and a manhandled journey up the stairs.
The moment Rafe got you into your room, he’d wasted no time in tearing at every article of clothing you had on. Every action—every thrust—was done with the sole purpose to punish you. You hadn’t meant to scream—you rarely did anymore—but it had just hurt so bad that you couldn’t help it. When JJ pulled you to your feet, you curiously eyed him.
He said nothing to you as he pulled your sheets off of your bed, throwing them into a pile on the floor. The look he gave you held a silent question, and you pointed to your closet. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he grabbed a clean set, fixing them on your bed for you, and you felt your throat tighten.
“JJ, you don’t have to…”
You trailed off when he looked over his shoulder at you before continuing the task. When he was done, he moved closer to you, gently taking your arms. He stared at your face with a frown before exhaling.
“You not wanting me to tell Sarah or anyone about this is crazy,” he forced out, jaw ticking. “…but I get it, now. I understand that he’ll…”
JJ took a deep breath.
“I get what’s at stake,” he whispered, eyes looking between yours. “…but you can’t tell me to sit back and do nothing. That’s the tradeoff. You want me to keep quiet, then you let me be here for you.”
You understood where JJ was coming from, and you looked down. Asking JJ to keep quiet about Rafe’s abusive nature was asking a lot, and expecting the younger blond not to worry or help or be there for you in whatever way was asking for even more. It wasn’t really fair, and you reluctantly nodded.
You sat back down on your bed when he left your bedroom, and your mind spun over the predicament you found yourself in. Did…did you have two boyfriends? Is that what JJ was? Or was he simply the guy who treated you well and snuck into your bedroom and kissed you sometimes? It wasn’t right, but then again, the whole situation wasn’t right.
No, you shouldn’t be cheating on Rafe, but Rafe also shouldn’t be hitting you and raping you and hurting you in whatever manner he could whenever he wanted. JJ treated you good, proven in the way he returned upstairs with something cold he’d found in your freezer. His gaze was apologetic as he gently pressed it to your face, and you were unable to stop yourself from wincing.
When JJ sat down next to you, he tugged on you until you were lying down in his lap, looking up at him as he gazed down at you. His free arm made itself comfortable around your waist, and you reached down to cover his hand with yours. You were so used to Rafe’s treatment that you paid no mind to the dull ache between your legs, just thinking about when JJ kissed you again the other night.
It was the last thing that needed to be on your mind, and you closed your eyes.
“You can’t stay long, JJ,” you murmured.
You heard him sigh, although it sounded more like a huff.
“Yeah, I know.”
You felt your eyes burn.
“I don’t think I’ll be going to The Cut again,” you said. “I kind of ruined that.”
You felt and heard JJ lean down, and when his lips brushed over your swollen ones, you opened your eyes. When he pulled away, the blond held your gaze, expression thoughtful.
“That’s okay,” he eventually said. “You don’t have to to see them. We’ll find a way, and…”
He took your hand with his free one.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered to you. “You know exactly where to find me.”
Your chest felt warm at that, and you found yourself eyeing his lips. When he leaned down again, you closed your eyes, ignoring how conflicted you felt. You couldn’t go on like this forever, but JJ and his possible place in your future wasn’t something you wanted to think about. In the moment, after being brutally raped by your boyfriend, you just wanted to feel good.
#jj maybank x reader#dark!jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#dark!jj maybank#rafe cameron x reader#dark!rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron#obx#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks imagine#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fanfiction
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I NEED YOU EXCITED, I DON'T WANNA FIGHT IT | Y. OKKOTSU
✵ tags ; established relationship, friends to lovers, afab +fem!reader, forward!reader, back and forth power dynamics, dry-humping, hickies / marking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding. fingering, dirty talk, 18+
✵ wc ; 7.3k (good lord)
✵ a/n ; written with my beloved @princess-okkotsu in mind!! i hope i did your boy justice </3 and thank u for everything literally wouldn't have passed chem w/o you
so not used to have such little warnings on a fic. lol. title is from fire and desire by drake.
✵ synopsis ; yuta wants to do right by you which is why he's so determined to take your relationship slowly. well, he tries too, anyway.
Yuta Okkotsu is a believer of doing things the right way.
He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he hangs out alone in your bedroom. He closes his eyes, elbows resting on the little table, face buried in his palms. Maybe it’s closer to a form of manifestation - like if he says it with enough hooplah it will mean something more than a jumble of words and syllables.
He must clarify that he is trying to do the right thing right now. He is trying so very hard to do the right thing because Yuta Okkotsu wants to remain righteous where possible.
It’s part of his job as a sorcerer, now well into his 20’s and more conscious of the world around him. He’s strong enough to put his money where his mouth is and experienced enough to know that trying to maintain some ethical code is part of staying alive in this business.
And it’s not that Yuta considers himself particularly upright. His friends and colleagues often tell him that he’s a bit unhinged and hard to get a read on. His morals might not always align with greater society, but he never does something that goes against his own beliefs. A lot of which can be summarized quite easily ; anything to defend his comrades.
It really is so important for Yuta to try and be civil in these aspects. Lest he fall into something truly dark. Even he knows what he’s capable of, at least a little.
That’s why he’s left with no choice than burying all of his thoughts of you and using every ounce of energy he has to suppress it as deep as it can go
You know, with all the love that’s influenced his life and all of the years he’s spent learning to be less timid - none of it seems to matter when it comes down to you and him. The logistics of a relationship and the idea of one are two very different things. When it comes to your relationship, he’s been keen in adhering to his strict timeline of milestones. First date, first hand-holding, first deep kiss. It’s a matter of honoring you - because before being boyfriend and girlfriend, you were Yuta’s comrade and companion. Before your relationship status, you're his cherished and valued person.
So because he’s chivalrous. Because he’s romantic. Because he cares about you.
And also because the sheer magnitude of his desires for you perpetually leaves him in a state of distress and disarray. It’s all of the above, all at the same time. And sometimes it leaves him a little overwhelmed.
He barely manages in his daily life but this? This is torturous.
Being in your bedroom unprompted is destroying every ounce of self-restraint he’s built through these last three months. He’s made it through your relentless bullying without giving into his Earthly desires.
It’s just too ideal in a way, being in here. Everything feels like you. There’s pictures of your friends and family around the room. Everything has your scent. Your clothes are littered on the floor and hung over the back of your desk-chair. It’s so you and Yuta loves you and he’s not going to survive being in here despite it all.
It’s embarrassing. Yuta is not the timid teenager he once was. But for all the ways he’s good at standing his ground, his demeanor is all but worthless when it comes down to you.
You’re a few years his senior and you’ve always been a slippery character. He’s enriched by your curiosity of the world. You’re a researcher and archivist of cursed information, coming out of the Kyoto branch. You have plenty of accolades and always manage to teach him something new and come out of difficult things on top.
Mostly, Yuta recognizes all of the good in your heart. He really thinks very highly of you.
There was an obvious passion for your work that Yuta was endeared by in the initial stages of your relationship. Plus you were easy to talk to. You’ve been a good friend to Yuta for years now, ever since you called on him to do some research on him and Rika. And, as the years passed you became closer until one night it hit him that his feelings of admiration were a little closer to something like love.
And with big, wet tears in his eyes (and a fair bit of liquor in his system) he blubbered about his feelings for you. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting at the time. You were happy which was great, but there was also something so lax about it all. Yuta remembers it so vividly. The way you waltzed up to him, tucked some hair behind his ears and kissed him gingerly with all the confidence in the world. Like it mattered but it didn’t. Like nothing could be more obvious than your feelings for each other.
“I’m pretty crazy about you too, Okkotsu-san.”
After asking if that meant you were dating like the bumbling, lovesick fool he is - you officially began going out as a couple. And at first, it was smooth sailing. It wasn’t too different from your usual hangouts.
Eventually though, you had pointed out that it doesn’t really feel like you were dating. Suggested that maybe sleeping together would help break the ice a little. That was what started this moral dilemma.
Being honest, it wasn’t like Yuta hadn’t considered it. What thoughts he cooked up while alone in the sanctity of his bedroom is between him and the heavens only. It was just the way you suggested it. You saying it made it all feel so real. And Yuta wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He wants to cherish you so much that he felt like he couldn’t consider your offer too lightly.
And he told you as much, hand in yours and red-faced to which you only blew some hair out of his eyes and laughed. A simple okay, a nod, and a kiss.
Of course, if everything had been smooth sailing this would be a different thing altogether. While Yuta had declined sleeping with you too soon, you had absolutely no plans to make his life easy. He’s not sure how much of it is on purpose. Knowing you, probably a lot. You’re a smart girl, after all.
So all of your bending over and tongue kissing before going home and selfies that just border on boudoir are probably very purposeful. But he’s endured it all. He should cherish you more. He’s been determined to not give in.
The fact he’s all but ready to blow his load over just being in your room makes him feel pathetic. And maybe he is, a little. But only for you.
Yuta likes to think of himself as a collected individual. Really. He knows being this worked up over something as innocuous as his girlfriends room is ridiculous. He knows he’s being ridiculous.
But he really, really wants to uphold his beliefs here. So he’s stiff, sitting with his hands clasped and holding it together just barely.
He practically jumps out of his skin when you return to your room with a tray of refreshments.
“Woah, Yuta. You okay?”
He turns around to look at you. A mistake, apparently. His eyes land on the sight of your bare legs before he forces himself to meet your eyes. You’re so pretty to him. Always so beautiful without any effort.
“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, just got lost in thought.”
You put the tray down on the table in front of him before sitting on the edge of your bed - facing him. The distance between you is minimal. You reach out to pet the top of his head with the palm of your hand, scratching his jaw tenderly. Yuta feels loved by the touch.
“You sure? Looks like you saw a ghost.”
Your genuine worry makes his spine feel like it’ll melt. He puts his hands over yours, rubbing his cheek against your palm.
“Promise I’m okay. Just—it's nothing serious.”
“Mm. Even if it’s nothing serious, I wanna know what stuff you’re worried about, ‘kay? So tell me if you want.”
He feels unsteady but so happy.
“Thank you, my love.”
“Yeah, of course. You wanna keep sitting on the floor or…?”
The minute you ask him, he feels the hair stand up on his neck.
“The bed…?”
You give him a look of confusion before you break out into a knowing grin.
“Oh, I forgot. I mean to remain chaste, my liege. Just wanna cuddle a bit.”
“Are you making fun of me?” He asks, not masking the pout in his voice.
You tilt your head to one side, leaning back on your palms.
“A little,” You say mischievously, shrugging “I’m used to your lifestyle of celibacy.”
He frowns at you. “It’s not like that, I just want to—“
“I just want to cherish you because I love you and want you for more than sex yadda yadda yadda. I know. And I respect your wishes even if I think it’s silly.” You say, taking the words right out of his mouth. His frown deepens.
“It’s not silly to me.” He says, almost petulantly. At this, you grab his face in your hands which catches him off-guard. You knock your forehead against his, bent over to do it.
“I know that too, you dummy. The point is that I’m not trying to get in your pants right now.”
He can’t help but smile, pulling away to kiss at your wrist. You giggle.
“Well, what do you want?”
“To be wrapped up in each other like otters.”
“So romantic.”
“Right? So get up here.”
He gives in sooner rather than later. You scoot till your back is along the wall next to your bed and Yuta wastes no more time in joining you. Your bed is crazy comfortable. Just laying it in makes him want to fall asleep almost immediately. He gets cozy before directing his gaze to you in front of him. He feels like he’s gonna throw up and the only thing that’ll come out is his heart. You give him a look of amusement.
“Enjoying the view?” You tease. He laughs, leaning forward to tuck his face into your neck.
“Yeah. Smells like you,”
“So cute.”
“Don’t know how to feel about being called cute.” He says honestly. He peers up at you and you’re giggling and he can feel his heart rate sky-rocket. You twirl a piece of his hair around your index finger.
“You’re cute and cool and handsome. Better?”
“Yeah. Yes.”
“Mm,” You respond. He looks at you as your expression drifts off somewhere. He can’t take his eyes away from your face “Sorry you had to stay over.”
“It’s fine. It’d be a shame if you didn’t get anything to look over while we were there. If you make any breakthroughs, it’d be good for Gojo-sensei.”
“You still call him that even though you graduated so many years ago?”
He flushes slightly.
“Force of habit. My point stands.”
“Mhm. Thanks for being so supportive. I didn’t think it was that late, y’know? I would’ve tried to hurry if I knew,” You say thoughtfully “But I like having you over.”
He gives you a once over as he pulls away, eyes flitting to your lips. You give him a small grin.
“Kiss me.”
He looks at you apologetically.
“That’s not fair. We can’t kiss? Making out doesn’t count as intimate relations, Yuta.”
“Okay, but it can lead to them.”
“If it’s that serious, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Wait, no.”
“Then kiss me.”
He sighs.
“Just kissing, okay?”
“Okay, you monk.”
He laughs at the comment before pressing his lips to yours tenderly. You have no such intent of leaving it that way - your hand on immediately on the nape of his neck. The softness of your tongue makes Yuta feel like there’s fizz in his head - like the water inside of him is seltzer. He thought you would at least try to give him some mercy.
He probably shouldn’t expect that from his favorite girl. He pulls away, out of breath. A little line of saliva breaks off between you. Your grin is eye-catching, like glass in the sun. Yuta wouldn’t mind burning in the magnitude of your light.
“Just kissing,” He emphasizes, trying to be firm. You hum, hand on his cheek. You rub your thumb on his lip tenderly, looking at him square in the eyes. He’s stronger than this, he swears.
“We are just kissing though?”
“Baby.” He frowns. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach and he’s so entranced by it he nearly forgets what he’s trying to convince you of.
“Since when is making out too naughty? Teenagers do stuff like that, Yuta. We’re grown-ups.”
“That’s the whole problem.” He says back in faux exasperation. You look like you’re going to kiss him again, but you lean into his ear instead. Your breath is warm and ticklish against his skin.
“Yuta,” You murmur with such clear intent he feels himself break down under the weight “Can’t we have sex, hm?”
Blood rushes down to his dick so fast he’s embarrassed. He stares at you as you pull away, a look in your eyes that makes him want to collapse. Of course he does. He wants to have so much sex with you so often it’s starting to drive him up a wall. Is there anyone in the world other than him masochistic enough to turn down the offer? He’s doubtful to say the least.
“I want to,” He admits. You beam and nod. Your hand slides down to squeeze his waist. He swallows thickly.
“Yeah? Then why can’t we?”
“I just..don’t want to rush things,” He replies with as much conviction as he possibly can. The sincerity must reach you because you soften a little “We’ve known each other for a long time. And it was already hard to get here. I just want to make sure it’s right.”
“You’re so thoughtful,” You murmur to him, running over his hip bone with your thumb “And that makes you really sexy, you know?”
“What if it gets all messed up?”
“Our relationship is stronger than that, yeah. It can withstand a handjob.”
He groans at your vulgarity before laughing.
“I’m being serious!”
“I know and that’s so sweet of you. But I really, really don’t think it’ll be that bad if we have sex. We might fuck like rabbits for a few days but that’s not really the end of the world.”
He feels heat creep up his next as you nuzzle your nose against his, whispering softly.
“And doesn’t that sound nice? Cooped up in this little room, fucking each others brains out. Just you and me.”
He feels his dick steel against his will. He looks at you seriously, a fire in his expression.
“You’re being unfair.”
“Who, me? Never. I’m just telling you what I think.”
He groans in complaint. Is this the right thing to do? He doesn’t think so. But it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He really, really wants to have sex and there’s never been such a perfect opportunity. You’re a little too good at turning him on and he’s a little too pent up to think about it more clearly. It feels like the only thing he can think about, a side-effect of this whole conundrum. There is a right way to go about this and he can’t say for certain yours isn’t the one.
Plus the vivid picture you’ve painted of the two of you fucking in a room for hours is making his whole body burn up with lust. Fuck, the things he could do to you in all that time without it ever being enough.
Yuta didn’t know he was aching for you so badly until he was this close to having you.
“Baby,” He can feel how deep his voice is getting. It’s taking all of his strength to keep it in.
“How do you want me? Tell me. You’ve been thinking about me right?”
“Always,” He confesses, staring at you without any restraint “Always thinking of you.”
“Doing what?”
Oh. This is…
Oh.
“I’ve never seen you naked.”
“Then you daydream about seeing me naked? How tame.”
“It’s more than that, it’s—I want to make you feel good. You’re so good to me. And I wanna…”
You stare at him. You’re so cheeky.
“You wanna?”
“Want you to feel good. But because of me. All because of me.”
A wave of heat passes through him. He looks at you and you look...different. You look turned on, fingers carding through his hair. Right now all Yuta can think about is how much he wants. A word with so much weight behind it he can hardly keep up. God doesn’t Yuta want you more than he’s ever wanted anything.
The room feels like it’s hotter than it was a few seconds last. A thick tension spreads over everything like jam. Yuta is too dazed to do anything. He can only watch as you sit up. You guide him to lay on his back and climb on top of him with ease. Your thighs feel warm and soft as you straddled him, taking his hands to put them on your waist.
He slides them up underneath your shirt lightly, enough to feel the warmth of your skin on his calloused fingers. Your eyes lock as you lean forward the slightest bit, caging Yuta in with your hand next to his head.
“So possessive,” You tease, seeing right through him like you usually do. He really is. He thought he was a little better at hiding it “Already all yours, Yuta.”
That makes his dick twitch. You must feel it because you laugh at him about it and his hands grip even tighter. He’s gonna lose his mind, being swept up by you so easily. He’s gotten so used to forfeiting restraint. Always goes in head first because that’s how cowards have to learn to fight. But he’s forgotten how to hold back. How to suppress.
Right now, he feels like an animal. He feels like a restless hound dog, straining against the spiked collar he’s tried to keep himself in place. What does that make you, he wonders?
In an attempt at transparency, he looks at you and says “I want you so much.”
And your reply is about all the permission he needs.
“Then take me,”
Yuta heeds your words and takes. It’s easy to flip you both over from where you are. He mumbles an apology as you yelp in surprise - and he hopes you’ll forgive him for his impatience. He’s been picturing this for months now. He knows what he wants, and that’s you on your back with him on top of you - making you feel so fucking good you can’t stand it. He slots his legs between yours, hovering over you as your bodies press into each other.
You wrap your arms around Yutas neck with ease and he leans in to kiss you passionately. Despite where you are, it’s clear you're helping set the pace. Yuta is eager to follow. It starts off slow enough but when you pull away once, you're opening your mouth enough to let him in deeper. You stick your tongue out and Yuta follows suit. Everything is so hot he feels like it’ll burn, and you taste like mint toothpaste. He likes swapping spit with you like this, the messy way the drool runs down his chin and yours like you can’t get enough for each other.
He has no idea how long you stay like that. Just kissing is a dangerous game. The nip of your mouth and the press of your incisors in his lower lip leave him shuddering. His hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and he can’t help himself but hump into the soft plush of your tummy. Even through the stiff material of his jeans he can feel you.
He quivers and whimpers into your mouth but you swallow the noise with delight. Your fingers find themself at the nape of his hand reaching up, tugging at the root. You pull away to give him a chance to breathe. He sounds pathetic, he knows it, but fuck he can’t hold it in anymore. Your voice is cool and collected yet rich and heady. It feels like a salve to his raw nerves, calming to him. He closes his eyes and humps into you and everything feels like it’ll disappear. Yuta just wants to give into his base needs. He wants to be all yours as much as he wants you to be all his and everything is so tangled up in his mind.
“That feel good, Yuta?”
“Y-yeah. Yes. Oh, yes.”
You giggle at him a little and Yuta looks up at you. Look at the swell of your lips and the flush and sheen on your skin. Too much, too much, too much.
But not enough at the same time, he rubs his cock against you again, harder.
“So pent up,” You comment smoothly and Yuta groans in agreement “Why don’t I help you a little?”
Unsure of what you mean, he stares at you hazily. You push him off, making him stand to his knees and he watches you as your hands come to the ends of your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it somewhere. You have nothing on underneath. His mouth dries out almost completely. Bare skin of your shoulders and the curve of your neck and your chest so open. Your nipples are hard against the cool air, standing to attention.
Your b0dy is so much sexier than he could’ve conjured up in his head. The real thing doesn’t even compare, and the way you move as you take off the rest is so fucking mesmerizing. Yuta watches you take off your pants next - you put your legs up to slide them off.
There’s not a single part of you that Yuta doesn’t want to claim for himself. He traces the outline of your legs, the bend of your knee and the arch of your foot. He should worship you, after all - he was right for trying to restrain it before. If he had this in the beginning, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might become. He’s scared of it even now.
Yuta is of course the type of man to get sick on his own devotion. He’s always been like that. That’s what the rings on his hands always mean. He wants to make himself sick on you.
Nothing could be more intense than just watching you undress, he doesn't think. You toss your shorts somewhere, but leave your panties on. Yuta still has his clothes on. The only barrier between you now is a thin layer of cotton. There’s a damp spot on it. He can’t stop his hand from reaching out, pressing into it with his thumb as gently as he can. You gasp. His eyes go wide.
“It’s okay,” You assure, a smile on your face “Just wasn’t expecting it.”
He hums, dumbstruck, and smooths his thumb over the seam. There’s something salacious about the boundary itself. The material that’s keeping him from just taking you.
“C-can you leave them on..? For a bit?” He asks. You blink twice. Even if you’re confused, there’s not any judgment. Yuta really does love you.
“Uh-huh. If you want me too,”
You give him the floor this time, Yuta thinks. He takes his shirt off too. He doesn’t take his jeans off completely, though. Only unzips them, pushing them down past his boxers to give him some breathing room. And with that he’s back on top of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips but moves down towards your jaw. The little fluttery sigh that leaves you makes everything close in around him. Like it’s only you two in the entire world. He leaves them down your neck, down your collarbone and sternum. Warm open mouth kisses trying all over every inch of you.
His hands shake as he reaches out for your chest. You chuckle and reach for him. Guide them to squeeze your tits firm, a cheeky look in your eye. He tries to take more confidence in it now. Gropes the fat between his fingers, palms over your nipples in appreciation. He’s entranced by it, pushing them together and teasing the hardened buds with the pads of his fingers.
“So pretty,” He mumbles, mostly to himself “You’re so pretty,”
“You’re pretty too, Yuta.”
He can feel a blush crawl up his skin. He ducks his head down to take your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan of pleasure that encourages him to suck harder on one and use his fingers to tease you where his mouth can’t reach. Your sighs are shaky and you're gently losing your composure.
He wants to shatter you completely.
He grabs your thighs and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist. And you do with his guidance, a well of desire about to burst within him. He adjusts until his cock is snug against your clothed cunt. A broken oh, leaves your lips and Yuta humps into you, shifting until he hits the sweet spot. Your voice sounds again, pitchy and melodic like a wind chime and that’s when Yuta knows he has it.
He has you right where he wants you now. Bodies pressed into each other and so involved, so together. Yuta can feel you everywhere. He’s always been in sync with you but every notch is turned to ten. The shallow rise and fall of your stomach, the slightest tenseness in your spine that melt away when he gives you a little attention. He has you in his grasp but he wants to hold onto you tighter. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, the way his nerves are revved up.
He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his clothed, hard cock against your cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. There’s something so primal about it that Yuta can’t take it. He can’t think clearly anymore, lost in the feeling of dull pleasure. If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much. You’re both naked mostly except for where you both need each other. So close in proximity that Yuta can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing, pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. There’s something romantic about the mutual desperation.
Drawing out those moans as he sucks at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent up and needy and fucking horny he is all for you.
Just humping your soft, sweet little cunt through your panties makes Yuta want to risk everything he’s got. The push and pull of too much and not enough at the same time. It’s so fucking euphoric. Your fabric keeps wetter and wetter, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling through his boxers. Mixing together so that there’s less friction than there should be, material all soaked through and tacky.
He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff and Yuta pulls away to look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re on edge, in complete bliss and so fucking beautiful.
“Oh, oh, Yuta - shit, like that. G-gonna, gonna,”
He doesn’t know what overtakes him, but he babbles on pulling away.
“Cum for me, please—fuck, baby, p-please, need it,”
You cum the first time just like that. For Yuta, humping each other like two lovesick teenagers. All for him you get all broken. He can’t help but burn the image of you underneath in his head forever. He needs to see it all again.
“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” The praise feels like it’s being injected into his bloodstream“You make me feel sho good,”
The slight slur in your words and praise all together makes him too happy. He kisses you, sloppy and lovedrunk, tongues touching and teeth chattering.
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Yuta says with as much conviction as any one man could have. You laugh so loud it makes him smile. “I don’t wish well for anyone you dated before me.” And you laugh again even louder.
“You sound polite even when you’re threatening people.” You say with nothing but affection. Yuta wants more. He wants you. Even with this quiet lull, he’s thinking about how he can get you to cum again.
He nudges his nose to your cheek, kissing the corner of your mouth before he talks.
“I want you to do it again,” He states, slow and steady, trying to feel out your willingness “And then I want to fuck you,”
“Wanna fuck me after you make me a mess?” You say, much more bluntly than he has. You’re not wrong “Are you a sadist after all, Yuta?”
“You look good when you’re messy. ‘s not my fault.” He replies, a little bite to his words. This delights you to the point he's proud. He does his best not to look uncool and this one time he’s succeeded.
“Make a mess of me, Yuta,” You encourage, probably because you know he needs it. And he does “I want it.”
“Yeah,” Comes his reply, as he pulls himself off of you “Me too,”
The pace slows down now. The room smells of sex and Yuta can still feel the blood rushing in his ears but nothing so frantic. He lays you back, your legs undoing from behind him and resting. Yuta kisses your sternum first, a wave of emotion running through him. He puts his hands on your sides, sliding them down to meet your hips and squeezing tight.
He kisses his down your body like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He can feel you curl in above him - not completely. But you seem a little astonished, and he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he accomplished something. He works his way lower slowly, rubbing small circles into your skin as often as he can. Caressing you and committing your body to memory. He wants you to feel him as much as he’s feeling you, to feel his touch. The tension in the air is strengthened by his silence.
If he were saying anything it’d be something like this. Like can you feel it? how much i love you? or i want all of you. Things he can’t often muster up the strength to say. He’s good with his words but not good enough to communicate all of it so bluntly. Yuta is brave in areas other than love. Sometimes your adoration makes all the words clog in his throat. This is better for him, the physicality brings him peace of mind.
He likes how you feel. Your skin is much softer when he compares it to his, feels so different and more plush and comfortable. Yuta likes taking you in his hands and kneading the skin gently enough to relax you. Lower and lower, a trail of wet marks until he’s close to your clothed cunt. He stares at the sticky material, kissing it feather light before redirecting his attention to your thighs.
He starts again, at the bend of your knee - and works his way inward. He’s rougher now, taking time to mark up your inner thigh with precision. Yuta can’t help himself, placing kisses in the last places his teeth bit you. He does it again and again, up along one thigh and then moving to the other until you’re covered in them.
You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Yuta as his breath fans over your cunt, so completely soaked the fabrics a different color. His tongue runs over the material, a shameless moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch. It’s salty and a little bitter, the mix of his pre-cum and yours altogether. Yuta goes to do it again anyway. The mess of it gets him excited, unconsciously rubbing into the sheets underneath him.
“O-oh, Yuta.”
He shivers, hands planing over the tops of your thighs as he brings him down close to him.
“Yeah, yeah baby. Just me and you,”
A soft laugh leaves your mouth. Yuta can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter, because that’s what he wants more. Rolls the fabric off of your legs with a deep sigh, a pleased hum. He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelled from need. Yuta kisses it without thinking.
He starts slow. Lays his tongue flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up. The taste of you covers his mouth, tangy and slightly sweet - Yuta can’t get enough of you. He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy close. His nose bumps into your sex. He peers up at you with his lashes. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over - licking at your clit with enthusiasm. Your clit is hard and needy, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle of his tongue as he gains a sort of rhythm. He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Yuta knows he’s hit the right pace.
And he stays like that, your pussy soaking his mouth and chin. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft oh above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is twitching without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding.
“Don’t t-tease so much,” You pant.
Yuta nearly blows his load listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. He listens though, pushing his middle finger into you with ease. It doesn’t take too much effort. Your insides are so incredibly wet for him. Your walls are so soft and inviting, syrupy to the touch. Yuta loves feeling them. He gives you time to adjust to the new sensation, fucking in and out slow enough that the tension melts. He gets knuckle deep with his middle finger and when it doesn’t seem like you’re tense anymore - he goes and adds another.
He does both in tandem - and there’s a period where it’s all a bunch of sensation for you. Eventually it stops being just a feeling, turns into pleasure. He curls his fingers up against you hard, rubbing the soft and spongy area and he can feel you practically lurch forward. Your spine arches, mouth dropped open in a soft ‘o’. Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt and with your clit in his mouth - he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside.
Yuta isn’t one for competition or ego. He’s always been easy-going. But something about you being underneath him like this, moaning for him like this - makes him feel like he should put in a little more effort to prove himself. He wants to make you feel so good, wants to see your composure break down steadily. He wants you praise him for it, to fuck each other like animals in the thereafter of your second orgasm. He pushes towards that goal steadfastly, and soon enough your body catches up with him.
Yuta can practically feel your stomach tighten. You let out a noise, a string of mismatched syllables like a warning. Yuta only hums in encouragement, keeping his pace exactly the same. Feeling it is incredible. His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath.
Your back curves in a C as you cum, hard for him and he can feel it. He can feel you cum. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Yuta made you cum twice in a row and he’s already itching to do it a third.
You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sigh deeply, and Yuta licks his fingers. He waits for your adoration, pleased to receive as you pull him up for a kiss.
“You’re so fucking good, Yuta,” You say and Yuta feels his resolve crumble. He needs to fuck you immediately “So, so good to me baby.”
He whimpers into your mouth. “I need you.”
You laugh breathlessly, your hand reaching between your bodies to squeeze his cock. Yuta shudders and you giggle to yourself.
“Yeah. Bet you’re feeling pent up, Yuta. How about I treat you this time? That okay?”
“Treat me?”
“By riding you,” You say, smiling at him. He gets chills from the offer “You want that?”
“Oh. Oh, fuck - please. Please?”
You smile at him.
“Lay on your back, sweet boy.”
Sweet boy. He swallows thickly but does as you say. Lays back and watches you climb over him a second time tonight - this time with a much more obvious intent. He can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he finds you - no matter how many times he sees you, it’s not easy to get used to.
You sit up on his lap, naked and beautiful, your hangs tugging down his boxers just enough to free his cock. He hisses at the sensation of air, then moans because your hand squeezed around the shaft. Yuta watches, bewitched, by how you spit into the palm of your hands and let it drip down onto his cock. You stroke until he’s covered in it, saliva making a mess of him. When he’s all wet, you scoot forward just slightly. A hand ends up on his chest as you pull your hips up.
Guiding the tip to your hole, you sink down on Yuta finally. He can only recognize loosely that there’s no condoms to be seen but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. There’s a slight sensation of tension that quickly gives away to nothing but slick, white-hot pleasure. You feel amazing. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt in his entire life and each time you drop down another inch - he’s biting his cheek trying not to cum immediately. That’d be such a waste, even if you’ve promised to fuck like rabbits - Yuta wants to make this last long.
You lower yourself steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles before you finally seem comfortable. You lean forward, your hand next to Yuta’s head as you look at him.
“Cum when you feel like you need to, ‘kay?”
Yuta just swallows.
Before he gets a chance to adjust to the feeling, you pick your hips and slam them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. Yuta nearly screams, his hands immediately shooting to your hips to try and slow you down. You give him a wry grin, He almost wants to plead for your mercy.
“Want me to go slower?”
“Please be nice.”
You giggle but heed his request. Repeating the motion but slower as promised, you rock yourself steadily onto Yuta’s cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. Your insides feel like they’ll melt him completely, make him liquid from the inside out. You’re picturesque riding him, tits bouncing and leaned forward enough that Yuta can see the concentration on your face. He watches you find your own pleasure in it too - somewhere half-way between grinding and bouncing that makes you look so good. He feels so incredible like this.
He moves his hands so they’re grabbing your ass and only moves with you slightly. Not enough to change the pace, but to meet you. The room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin - a tacky smack as your bounces hard enough to hit Yutas thighs. Something about is so vulgar, but something about is so sensual. He can feel every nerve in his body standing on edge. Your hand moves gently between your bodies to tease your clit as you ride and Yuta can’t help but be impressed by your stamina. He feels so spoiled. Feels so mind-numbingly good he wants to go brain dead while you drain for everything he’s got.
Your expression is blissed out as you hit your stride, absolutely debauched. He can feel you again, another rush of arousal. He’s getting better at telling when you’re close. Your pussy is so sloppy all for him, because of him. So messy that it’s dripping down his cock onto his balls, all over the sheets underneath you. He can feel you clench in anticipation - the sudden spasming in the build up.
“Gonna cum again and I want you cum right after me, yeah baby? Can you do that?”
Yuta groans.
“Pleasepleaseplease.” Is all he can make out. You laugh, breathy. Your pace is still the same as you rub your clit. The third time you cum is less intense. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else. Even still, you clench around his cock hard - getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago.
It’s in the tremors that Yuta finally feels in touch with himself again. He loses himself completely. Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catching up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. His eyes shoot open then go back closed. The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Yuta finally cums he sees nothing but white stars in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak - so he holds onto you tight and finishes to the sound of your gentle coaxing. Your voice is shot hoarse as you coo to him.
“That’s it baby, cum for me. That’s it, there you go.” Echoes around in his head. Cum spurts out of him, thick and hot in your walls and he doesn’t even try to pull out as he goes completely limp underneath you.
When he opens his eyes back up again, you're both just as ragged as each other. Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing. He hugs you tight to his chest as you lay on top of him - naked bodies and tangled limbs.
“I love you,” Yuta says blearily. You laugh.
“I love you too, Yuta.”
__
After you and Yuta manage the energy to shower, you find yourselves back in bed. It’s late when you’re finally ready to sleep, being in the same positions you were before. Only this time with new sheets.
Yuta lets you into his arms, wrapping them around you as you nuzzle into his chest.
“So. Was it worth breaking your rules?”
Yuta can’t help but break out into laughter at your question. He nods his head, a flush on his expression.
“Yeah. Yeah it was.”
#yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#yuta okkotsu smut#writing tag#i was NOT going to post this until i woke up later#but due to unforseen and horrendous circumstances i am alive#i wrote this for miss aleks i am literally so grateful for u kdsjknkjsd thank u sm#i hope it is okay!! its been a while since ive written him
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bags (s.h.)
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?
warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!
wc: 2.2k+
note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)
Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time
I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine
Can you see me using everything to hold back?
I guess this could be worse
Walkin' out the door with your bags
You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.
Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.
You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.
It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.
And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.
“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.
Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.
“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.
So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.
He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.
He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.
The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.
And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.
“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.
“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.
“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"
His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”
“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”
“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.
“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.
“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”
And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”
He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”
You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.
“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—
“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.
“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.
“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.
His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”
“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.
“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.
“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.
“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.
“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal. “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.
He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”
He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.
as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve x you#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#bags
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♡ 🐰 wait, you’re a girl?! ✩ೃ°
synopsis ───◌ where the twst guys find out the ramshackle perfects secret
characters ┈┈◌ jack howl ♡ leona kingscholar ♡ ruggie bucchi
cw ──♡⃝ cursing, leona’s overblot, ruggie basically black mailing reader 😭, questionable bonus,
𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
You smelt sweet. Yeah, that’s a weird thing to say but it’s true. When you walked past him in the hallways, he noticed this… sweet, almost refreshing scent that softly entered his nose.
Now he isn’t saying he doesn't like it, but he is saying that it’s odd for a guy to have such a dainty smell, and Jack's a smart guy. So he has 2 possible hypotheses of why you smell like that.
You're from another world and things might be different there
You're a weirdo and he should avoid you at all costs
So if you see Jack eyeing you, or just tensing up around you, just know you made his radar.
Whoops🤷🏻
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
He reluctantly became your friend, let's get that clear. After the spell-drive incident, he couldn't seem to shake you, tweedle dee, and tweedle dum off his back. So there you three stayed like leeches.
It was only when Ace and Deuce got those anemone things on their heads that Jack truly joined your band of misfits. But that's not the point.
The moment when he found out about your little secret was when you were both hiding under Azul’s desk after trying to get to the contracts. You were squished up against either side of the dark oak deck when Jack couldn’t stop thinking about how unnaturally short you were. I mean, hey he doesn't judge, Heartslabyul’s dorm leader is short and Jack respects him. But he never noticed it until now, with his thigh completely overwhelming yours in both size and mass.
Or maybe he’s never noticed how small your hands are? Must come with the size he guessed. But the one thing that truly bothered him was your face, it was soft and delicate, so much chubbier and fuller than any guy he’s seen… and your smell… it almost reminds him of…
His eyes shot open as the door to Azul’s office opened.
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
It’s been weird lately. Besides the fact that Ace and Deuce are busy working slaving away at the Monstro, Jack has also started to act more… like Jack around you. Always hovering, carrying things, and nagging. Nag nag nag nag! ‘Y/n don't do this, y/n don't do that, y/n you'll get hurt, don't go in there it's dangerous!’ He was treating you like a damsel in distress when Ace and Deuce were the real ones.
Yet here he is babying you while treating them like normal! It’s gotten so bad that those two plus Grim started raising eyebrows whenever Jack did something for you.
So you decided to do what all smart people do; confront him.
So you do.
You pull him from his track practice and bring him under one of the trees that acts as shade for the runners whenever they're about to pass out from heat exhaustion.
Of course, you were trying to think about the correct way to go about this, because being in a school full of boys, especially teenage boys in mid-puberty, you had to learn to pick your words carefully.
“Why have you been acting weird lately?”
Great start.
Jack denies it, claiming this is how he treats all his friends, yet when you peek behind him to his low swinging tail, and back up to his cherry-sprinkled face, you know you’ve caught him in the act.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair to try and claim even a little of your nerves. “You know, don't you?”
He was silent before he spoke. “I do”
You bit your lip, the two of you unable to keep eye contact any longer due to the embarrassment of the whole situation. There was a pause, yet none of you said something. You both just let the cool autumn breeze cool your nerves before you spoke. Yet Jack beat you to it.
“I know you're wondering when I found out…” You nodded hesitantly. “Well, I’ve had my suspicions the first time I met you-“
“Was it my height?” You asked, but Jack quickly dismissed your guess which sidetracked him to commemorate Riddle and a kid named Epel.
“They’re both short but respectable, hard-working guys. So I thought the same about you. Being a magicless human in a school full of aspiring magicians can be hard, especially with no family or friends to back you up. Though I'll admit, at first I pegged you as a fool looking for trouble more than respectable- until the spell-drive tournament that is.” He added on quickly, not wanting to increase the raise in your brow.
“But I found out when we were in Azul’s office… I never noticed how soft you were. How… squishy you were”
You snorted “Squishy?” You repeated, causing the light flush on his cheeks to worsen. “Hey, this is embarrassing enough as it is! Just- let me finish talking alright!” He growled. Though that didn’t scare you as you kept silently laughing at his unusual choice of wording.
“Only then did it click for me that you were a girl.”
You nodded thoughtfully, looking up at the half-naked tree, a leaf fell and fluttered to the ground, before another leaf followed, and another, and another.
Yet kept your eyes on the tree, on the leaves as you kept thinking about everything he just told you.
“I’ll keep your secret you would like me to, and I apologize for how I’ve been treating you…”
Your eyes were still on the tree “But?”
“But.” He completed staring at you despite the far-away look you had. “I won't change how I’ve been treating you these past couple of weeks.”
Your eyes waivered to his as a cautious tone of curiosity laced your tone. “And why is that?”
“Because” He breathed in, searching for the right words to say, searching for the proper way to say the undeniable fact in a way that won't drive you away, or make you laugh.
“You’re not from here, you have no family or background, no nothing. You're not a beastman, let alone have magic. So there’s no way for you to protect yourself in an all-boys school. It isn't safe for you. If I know you're a girl the others will figure it out too, and where will that leave you? What will happen if the wrong people; Azul, find out? If we weren't friends” He made a face while saying it, like the word was foreign to him “I wouldn’t be doing this. But you are, so you can't stop me.”
“Jack for crying out loud! I’ve dealt with two house warden’s overblots! I can handle a few horny guys!”
He sighed, and his ears twitched. “You can’t change my mind.” That was all he said before he walked away.
Achievement unlocked! You just gained a wolf bodyguard!
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happened after? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
You’ve gained a shadow is what happens next. Jack is practically all over you to the point where Grim and the Aduece combo felt a wee bit threatened. Claiming that he better not be trying to steal you away. But it’s fine, you’re actually kind of grateful (though you’d never admit it out loud)
People aren’t giving you scrutinizing looks or curious gazes anymore, instead, they're trying to avoid your gaze in fear of the brooding cc 6-foot buff freshman that follows you.
He has calmed down a bit, having someone consider your opinion was nice for a change. You carry your own stuff and take care of your own problems, unless it’s on a top shelf he can easily reach.
Sometimes you both brainstorm ways to mask your scent so you don't attract any eyes and noses. And the solution was scent blockers, usually reserved for female beastmen's heat. You were deemed the acceptance (Those things are like fucking horse tranquilizers)
𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
Who? All he knew was that you were probably gonna mess up his peaceful school life. If being from another world didn't make that evident, then you and your pussycat almost burning down the joint did.
He was already getting a headache from all the new scents and loud chatter, so he just wanted to go back to his dorm where his Egypt cotton-laced mistress was waiting.
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
He would make it seem like he found out all on his own, but in reality, he overheard you say it yourself. Well, not outright yourself, but it was in an awkward- oh sevens that doesn't even cover the severity of how embarrassing the conversation was.
Jack’s mom somehow found out about your little secret (looks at Jack)
note, he slipped up when going on break, how might you ask? He forgot to shower and wash his clothes so when his mom confronted him about the new smell 👀 all he could do was curse silently under his breath.
yes there are scent blockers but c'mon, how effective can those things be all the time
Anyways! His mother created a feminine hygiene care package for you! Packed full of feminine hygienic products, deodorants, and razors, albeit a bit cheap but you couldn't complain.
Back to Leona, Ruggie had begged (bribed) him to at least do some of his house warden duties, like for example; making sure everyone got back safely from break, and that they were situated in their dorms. And after a hard day's work, he was on his way back to his dorm for some shut-eye when he heard a high-pitched squeal, one that made his ears twitch angrily.
Jack.
He had already checked in with the freshman and assumed he just had a girlish scream despite his masculine appearance.
“Oh my god Jack I love you so much!”
Leona’s head snapped towards the freshman’s door because what the fuck was that??
Girls weren’t allowed on campus, let alone in dorm rooms.
Leona groaned, a gloved hand sliding down his face as he groaned again, deeper. Great. More work for him. It was too much work to get Crowley involved so he’ll just warn Jack, sternly.
He did have to give kudos to the young freshman, because the last time someone tried bringing their girlfriend in, they were caught at the magic mirror and given detention. Of course, Jack could be given the same treatment, but he was feeling oddly generous… He stopped thinking as a slimy feeling crept up his back.
As previously stated, Leona has amazing hearing, if not the best hearing in the school- and he takes pride in that, he really, truly does.
Another thing Leona took pride in; he was hard to surprise. His aloof personality cracks for no one. Sure, there may be a quick eye raise, or maybe even a slight pause if he's talking. Other than that, nothing. Zip, zilch, nada, nothing.
So when Leona was surprised to the point where he whipped his head back towards the freshman’s door again, he was glad no one was there. Especially Ruggie.
“Y/N please be a little quieter, someone could be outside!”
All else was unimportant as Leona stood outside the door, frozen, hand just about to land on the door before it fell limply to his side.
There was a few seconds' pause before he backed away and slowly slinked back to his room to process what he just found out.
(He was conflicted because a girl helped stop 3 overblots.
But then again, Faerina’s wife could get him out of his room…)
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
You were in the botanical gardens helping Crewel pick rare plants for next class. It was a nice arrangement if you do say so yourself; help Crewel prepare for class, grade papers and get alone time to study for your worst subject.
So the chance to explore the gardens after staying in stuffy classrooms all day was a Hail Mary for you.
Until you stepped on a snake.
Shrieking like a banshee, you heard the snake protest as it darted into the bush. Scrambling a few feet away, you kept your eyes locked onto the bush, waiting for the snake to fly out and exact its revenge.
That would have been the better scenario anyways. Instead, you were met with a towering lion beastman, tail in hand and his ears in flight mode.
Shit. It was Jack’s house warden. Leona.
After hearing horror stories, you knew no matter how low you bowed or how profusely you apologized, you were royally screwed.
“Oi, I’d watch where you're going if I were you” He stepped closer. “Cause you don't know what someone could do to a herbivore like you” He stepped closer as you took a step backward.
“So small and soft… not an ounce of muscle on ya. Makes one think if you're even a guy at all” He forced you to look up like he was challenging you not to.
“I’m not a girl!” your eyes widened in horror as his smirk deepened.
Uh oh. Voice crack.
Yeah puberty, and all, but you were well past the age of voice cracks.
“You should really keep your voice down” he whispered, leaning in on you. His breath rustled your hair which tickled your ear sending a sharp shiver up your spine and to your brain, sending it into a red alert. It was a whole chain reaction just from his breath. You haven't felt this pathetic in a while.
“As you never know who could be listening”
And with that, he walked away.
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happened after? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
Nothing. Literally nothing.
You were skittish around him, anxious about the thought of him spilling your secret to the whole school. But little did you know, Leona did not care. Not in the slightest. At most, he's probably impressed.
I mean with 3 overblots under your belt, you were fine. So there’s no need for him to keep an eye out on you. Nope, none at all.
It’s all the same, as you and Leona barely interacted before so why would that change now? You already got a bodyguard, and who was he to impose his morals on you?
…yet that doesn't stop his sharp gaze from following you whenever you crossed paths.
Where he was from, girls were fierce, dominant, and controlling, a perfect example of that was his sister-in-law. And of course, he knew not every girl was like that, as not everywhere has the same traditions as the sunset savanna. But you were a magicless girl in an all-boys school. And that didn't sit right with him. (No matter how much he tried to ignore it)
He’s basically your convenient savior, popping up if Jack isn't around and claiming he was napping there and you were disturbing him.
Don’t be surprised when there's an unmarked package on your steps filled with a few months supply of premium scent blockers. And don't bother confronting Leona cause he’ll deny it.
𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
Yawn, just another extra.
He met you during the spell drive arc when you stopped him from pushing Trey down the stairs. You smelt nice, was all he remembered before scampering away. But as nice as you smelt you made him nervous and he couldn’t understand why.
I mean, he injured heartsbyul's vice house warden, he’s stolen from men thrice his size, and he’s friends with Leona for crying out loud! All of this would make one think he had balls of steel and answered to no one.
Except for Leona.... and his grandma of course… Well I mean, sometimes his sisters too but that's it! Really!
Women in the Savannah scare the shit out of him, all strong, dominant and all that junk made him shiver.
Ruggie is observant. So the fact that you could inflict the same kind of caution women give him... Strange. He’ll have to keep an eye on you.
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
Hehehhehehehehhe
Unfortunately for Ruggie, he's going to be a victim to a trope, sorry not sorry. During Leona’s overblot your legs were shackled in the sand, unable to move, and unable to flee from the stalking lion.
It was just the 3 of you, the rest of your friends outside the swirling sand tornado, standing there helplessly.
Foolish herbivore was all Ruggie could think as you clawed up your ankles, feverishly looking between the house warden and your trapped feet.
Your eyes were wide with fear.
Oh.
An epiphany.
You reminded him of him, that's why he felt uncomfortable with you. You reminded him of a younger, scrawnier self. One that did anything and everything to survive, one that had to conserve food and the little money he had so he could've able to live. One that had nobody but his grandma and a few siblings.
Just a boy from the slums living off of stolen leftovers. Covered in rags, dirt, and bruises. A boy who hoped, dreamed, and prayed for a way out.
A boy whom you shared those same hopeless shimmering eyes with.
Fuck.
Ruggie didn’t know what he should do. Well, he lied, he did but he didn't know if he should do it. But as Leona hit the 10-meter mark Ruggie made a break for it
His legs carried him as fast as the sand would let him, and endless curses spilled from his lips as he saw Leona’s head turn in his direction. Shouting something, he threw a scalding hot gust of sand his way. Gritting his teeth as the searing grains of sand were pelted at him He kept repeating to himself: It was better than someone dying.
He didn't know why he chose to voluntarily go back into the jaws of death; he barely escaped thanks to Riddle.
Maybe it was those damned eyes of yours.
Tackling you onto the sand dome, you both just missed death's door as you both grunted at the sagging impact.
As much as you're both grateful for skating by the sandstorm, that couldn't bring attention away from the uh… obvious cushion.
“ Y-you're a girl!?”
“Not the time Ruggie!”
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
Basically a cat and mouse game. You spot Ruggie in the cafeteria, and Ruggie creates a clever way to lose you, may it be a crowd of people, laugh with me, or a ‘happy little accident’. He wants nothing to do with you so if you would just leave him alone that’d be great.
But of course you keep persisting, and eventually you catch up with him and corner him in the hallway.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
“Good morning to you, too perfect. If you would excuse me, I have to get Leona's homework from Trein, then do my own. So I really don't have a lot of time-“
“Then I’ll join you “ You smiled, grabbing his jacket sleeve before walking towards Trein’s room. It was foolish of you to assume it would be that easy, he’s a sneaky hyena after all.
Retracting his arms from his jacket, he expertly shimmied out of it like an octopus from a jar. He smiled as you turned around glaring at him, his jacket dangling from your clenched fist.
“Sorry, perfect, but I’d rather not have this talk” He shrugged before walking away. He was free, the sunlight spilled through the dirtied glass windows and onto the walkway of the hallway, highlighting his path to freedom.
“Not so fast Ruggie Bucchi! You get back here!”
And just like that the gates to heaven closed and he was dragged back down to earth. “Shit” He whispered, already starting into a sprint as he heard you thundering footsteps behind him. He felt like Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk, only he was Jack running away from the giant (you) who's ready to eat him alive for stealing his golden goose. (Over exaggeration, you just wanted to talk)
With lingering people in the hallways, he was able to disappear a few times, or purposely put them in your way. Yet each and every time you found him. No matter how hard he tried to lose you, you caught up. What was this a horror movie?
Finally, the hallway ended and he was trapped with no escape. You were stalking towards him, like a predator who had just found its prey.
“Ruggie I just want to talk” You put your hands up in surrender. “That’s it. I want to talk about what happened during Leona’s over blot”
Ruggie wanted to smack himself. God was he stupid. Not even once had he considered using ‘laugh with me on you’. Why? He wasnt sure himself. There were a few theories that popped through his head, but he had no time to entertain them as you were less than 2 meters away.
“Oh, real mature ruggie”
He let out the breath he was holding, the clatter of the lockers was heard as he straightened himself up. Rubbing the ‘dust’ from his knees he just looked at you. As he started to make his way towards you.
You couldn't read him. Did he have a face of relief, conflict, worry? You weren't sure. But when he passed you in your frozen state, all he said was:
“You really think I’d tell people? Really think that low of me huh” It was rhetorical.
By the time he was far away into the hallway, you were unfrozen. Stumbling a bit as you turned to him still walking. “Though my silence comes with a price!”
Ugh great. At this point you’d rather have him tell people
⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happens next? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹
I wanna say he’d tease you but I mean… woman… No, he isn’t afraid of you! He knows you’re not going to be as rough or intense as the ladies back home, as you’re no beast-man, especially not a hyena beastman.
So there’s going to be a bit of distance between you 2. I mean, there already was to begin with, cause he never met you or talked to you before the spell drive tournament situation.
But after that, he’ll probably mess with you a bit. Not a lot like how he would with others, but a good enough amount to where you interact weekly. Like he’ll cut you in line with a cheeky smile, or he’ll pluck a particular sandwich out of your hand and hide among the masses as you (grim) yell out curses.
He will use your situation against you ngl. He would shamelessly dangle it over your face in exchange for something, mainly food.
But I know he wouldn't do anything too callous or too mean.
Though he does keep the promise of ‘silence coming with a price’ and usually that price is an extra pair of hands or food. So now you've got 3 mouths to feed. Great.
𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔! I originally wrote this for Jack but I thought it was too ooc. Then I thought about Leona but then realized he would only do this in fanon.
Your back was slammed against a tree, Jack hovering over you as you struggled in his grip. His hand encased both of yours while his other gripped your hip, keeping you flat against the tree. His leg was bent awkwardly, pinning you against the tree at an angle that should make him fall, but he didn't. No matter how hard you tried, the leg that kept him braced didn’t budge. Not even an inch.
“Try to escape” Was all he said through your struggling and wiggling. Yet no matter how hard you tried pushing, shoving, kicking, or flailing away from him- nothing worked. You were stuck. Never once did he stop looking at you; through you as you grew more and more desperate to prove yourself.
But he was a wolf beastman, and you were a teenage girl.
And soon, as expected, your struggling slowly stopped, eyes downcast as you laid there, still, in his arms before he set you down.
Your hands rushed up over your chest as you struggled to understand the situation, to understand why he did that.
“I’m only a freshman” he spoke quietly “I don’t even have control of my magic yet, just think about what other guys would do if they found out. So please” You looked up at him, lashes heavy with locked in tears. His face was soft, gentle even which only confused your heart more.
#tiyoin 🔎#twisted wonderland x yuu#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#leona twst#jack x reader#jack howl x reader#jack howl twst#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#savanaclaw x reader#savanaclaw#twst savanaclaw#ruggie x reader#ruggie bucchi#ruggie bucchi x reader#twst ruggie#twisted wonderland headcanons
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Fuckboy Eddie falls in love, fwb, little bit of smut. Cocky Eddie, 18+ Mdni.
🎀💌
Fuckboy Eddie has met his match when it comes to you, he assumes because at first you're sweet and a little on the shy side that he will be the one calling the shots.
He's wrong of course.
On the night that the two of you meet it's at one of Steve's parties. He's recently started throwing them again for the gang, it's fun and he's met a ton of hot chicks because of it.
You're a friend of Steve and Robins who work with him at Family Video, At the party you stick close to the two of them, nervous about meeting new people.
Occasionally Eddie manages to catch your eye, he winks at you from where he's sitting, flirts heavily when Robin and Steve introduce you to the rest of the gang.
Seduce and fuck, that's his motto, he's not interested in seeing a woman more than once, and he much prefers the briefest flings if he does. That way no one expects anything more from him.
He doesn't see how tonight will go any different but boy he's in for a surprise. The first surprise is when he asks you out, you look him dead in the eye and smirk.
"Sorry pretty boy, I'm not interested" Eddie's brain goes brrr for a few seconds, he can't remember the last time his flirting attempts failed so spectacularly.
"I uh..." he stumbles over his words, tongue tied and growing frustrated with himself. You take pity on him.
"Look I haven't had sex in like the longest time, I'm horny as shit and even though I say I'm not looking for anything more than some hot sex, we all know someone always catches feelings for their fuck buddy and I'd like to avoid that"
He gapes stunned then recovers. "What a coincidence, I'm just looking for just some hot sex too" you eye him up and down, there's a small smile on your face.
"Oh honey, you wouldn't be able to handle me, I'd rock your world" your hand brushes over his shoulder as you sashay pass him, he gently tugs you back and your eyes meet his, full of lust.
"Try me sweetheart"
...
Exactly twenty minutes later the two of you are in Eddie's room, the door locked and the two of you sweaty, naked and fucking each other until you're both spent and sated.
Eddie is lying beside you, his head empty of all thoughts except the fact that you did rock his world, repeatedly. The sex was mindblowing.
You lay with him for a minute before getting up and pulling on your clothes, "Where are you going?" He asked confused as you fix your hair and make up.
"Early start handsome, gotta run. That was fantastic" you blow him a kiss and then you're out the door, leaving Eddie speechless.
Well that was a first.
...
The same situation carried on for weeks, the two of you would have sex and it would be incredible but then either one of you would leave.
Except Eddie noticed that his bed was a lot colder without you in it, missed your laugh or you sarcasm when you weren't around. So he started going to Family Video more to spend time with you, flirt and see your pretty smile.
Whenever that smile was directed at him, it was like his whole heart went pitter patter very fast, he felt like he was a teenager again with his very first crush.
Butterflies, racing heart, sweaty palms, it was humiliating. He hated when some douchebag noticed you, so Eddie left little lovebites on your skin and pleased you for hours if some idiot tried to flirt with you. He liked reminding you that he could pleasure you better than some limp dick asshole.
He loved when you cried out his name, chanted it in sweet, reverent tones.
That's when Eddie came to the conclusion one day when you were laying fast asleep beside him after a long work day and a very hot shower session with him. His conclusion being that finally after all of these years he had met his match.
"Someone always catches feelings for their fuck buddy" that's exactly what you said all those weeks ago.
He just never expected that he would be the one who caught feelings.
The fuckboy was well and truly fucked... and completely in love with you.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#eddie munson smut
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when you call txt pretty boy
bf!member x reader, fluff © equalheart REPOST FROM HYKAI
⋆ ࣪. ୧ ♡ ୨ ִ ۫ ⁎ . hope you enjoy, any error please correct me.
♡ 수빈 (SOOBIN)
— "Hello, my pretty boy!" you chirp out when coming home, watching Soobin immediately stick to you like glue. His large hands came to wrap around your waist, enveloping you in a tight hug from behind. He really did miss you and had been waiting for you, and when you said that, let's just say you melted his heart completely. "Your what?" he asks, with his iconic smile on display. "My pretty boy." you smile, ruffling his hair while he bends down, his chin over your shoulder, to look you in the eyes.
♡ 연준 (YEONJUN)
— Yeonjun had invited you to watch him model since he didn't wanna leave you home alone today. When you got there, he left into a room to get his makeup done. You whipped out your phone and waited for him to come back. After a bit, he walked out and headed infront of the camera. Everyone was welcoming him and saying 'hi' as they passed by. You watched his every move. This concept was much brighter than his other concepts. It had more of a spring vibe to it? he looked like a garden fairy. When he went on for a break, he went up to you, leaning down to reach eye level with you—who was sitting down. "Jun, you look amazing." you comment, and he smiles at you, causing your butterflies to scatter in your stomach. "You're such a pretty boy." you add, and see his smile become wider while he looks away. "Heyyy, don't say that." he says, still looking away from you. "Or what? you questions him, and he chuckles, reuniting his gaze to you. He leans down and gives you a peck on the lips. "Nothing bad of course. but i'll make sure by the end of today, we'll both have this lipstick on." He says, pointing to his lips.
♡ ���규 (BEOMGYU)
— Beomgyu was 'sleeping' when you came back home. He had only put on this act only to see your response and of course, he wanted to scare you. when you see him 'passed out' on the couch, you smile to yourself and walk over to him. "Wow, I can't believe you fell asleep before me today. congratulations, Choi." you say. you figure talking outloud wouldn't be bad since 1. He's asleep anyways and 2. You are talking to him. "but you are so cute like this. What a pretty boy." you sit by him, smiling while shifting some of his hair out of his face. Beomgyu is trying to contain his smile, and his heart beat had become rapid. You always managed to make him feel like a crushing teenager. He almost broke out into laugher before grabbing your hand with a loud "BOO!" which, honestly, almost shook the soul out of you. You scolded him for startling you, which he apologized for by cuddling you and digging his face into your neck. "Y/n.. do you really think i'm pretty?" he asks coyly, and you smile knowing he heard you earlier. "Of course you are. you're my pretty boy."
♡ 태현 (TAEHYUN)
— Taehyun had taken you out for dinner right after a promotion for their new album. You both went out but since it was so sudden, he still had his makeup on. His lip tint was rubbing off, and his eyelids still had a bit of a pink sparkle to them. He was sitting across from you eating his food until he noticed your eyes boring into his face. "Y/n, what're you doing?" he asks, wearing his bright smile. "Just looking." You answer. "At what?" he asks, filling some more food into his mouth. "At how lovely kang Taehyun looks." you sigh out, looking down and playing with your food before grabbing some onto your fork. "He's such a pretty boy." you add, now putting the food into your mouth, chewing carefully. He looks up and smiles at you, pulling away from the table to lean back into his seat. "Yeah. I heard his girlfriend is pretty too, huh? a pretty boy and pretty girl together." He says.
♡ 휴닝카이 (HUENINGKAI)
— "You're so pretty, Kai." you say, smiling brightly at your boyfriend. He was amazing; the whole package I can't believe I just wrote that. "I know I am." He teases back, leading a small giggle to drop from both of your mouths. "Yeah, you're my pretty boy." you say, grabbing his face in your hands. You give him a butterfly kiss, rubbing both of your noses together before pulling away. You see his cheeks are glowing a dusty red, and you give him a kiss on each side.
#txt x reader#yeonjun x reader#soobin x reader#beomgyu x reader#taehyun x y/n#taehyun x reader#hueningkai x reader#kai x reader#txt fluff#txt heuningkai#txt headcanons#txt reactions#txt yeonjun#txt au#txt drabbles#txt soobin#txt taehyun#txt beomgyu#tomorrow by together#choi beomgyu#choi yeonjun#choi soobin#kang taehyun#kai kamal huening#hueningkai
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Hypothetical
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Eddie asks a lot of hypothetical questions, just to hear your answer. The answer to this question was more real than you wanted to admit.
Warnings: Tiny bit of self-doubt, idiots to lovers.
Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (think it could be read as GN but just to be safe)
Word Count: 2.7k
“Would you fuck my clone?”
The question, asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather - though, to his defense, he’d asked weirder - rose above the sound of chainsaws emanating from the television and earned a confused frown as you spared him a sideways glance.
Eddie’s attention remained mostly on Leatherface, chasing unsuspecting victims, but you caught his curious glance as you laughed. Those were the first words spoken in over an hour, certainly a record for your verbose best friend, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What the fuck, Eddie?”
“What?” From his position at the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and head lolled onto the cushions, he shrugged. “It’s a simple question. Would you fuck my clone?”
A beat of silence passed, in which you realized this was one of those moments where Eddie wouldn’t let the question go until he was given a satisfying answer, and you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the question, Eds,” you countered. “Isn’t it usually, ‘would you fuck your own clone’?”
With a dismissive wave of his hand and a scoff, Eddie finally sat up and turned his full attention to you, screaming teenagers and chainsaws forgotten now that he had something better to capture his attention. “That one’s boring,” he reasoned. “We know all the arguments. This is a different question, new arguments.”
“I think we’re fine without arguing,” you teased, reaching for the nearly half-empty bowl of popcorn. “Just watch the movie, Eddie.”
From the corner of your eye, you watched as a look you couldn’t quite recognize flickered across Eddie’s face. However, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with a raised brow and a teasing grin. “We’ve seen it a hundred times already. Anyway, what I’m getting from this is, you would fuck my clone. Interesting.”
Eddie did little to hide his amusement as you rolled your eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “I didn’t say that,” you argued, despite yourself - despite knowing that you were walking into a conversation you weren’t yet sure you wanted any part of.
A hum, unconvinced, met your ears as he reached for the bowl and plucked it from your hands. “Okay,” he prompted, ignoring your outraged huff. “So, tell me. Would you?”
There were a handful of ways you could respond to his probing. The first, shut down his question with a point blank refusal, phrased as a light-hearted joke that did little damage to his ego and even less to your already fragile nerves. The second, play into his game and debate the pros and cons of sleeping with his clone, the ethical ramifications, the conversation he clearly wanted. Or, the third, admit to him a fact that you’d concealed since the summer of 1984.
Any way you could have him, real Eddie or clone, you would take it.
That was, solidly, not in the lead. So, you opted for the second approach.
“Jeez, Eds,” you sighed, stealing popcorn from the bowl now resting on his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe,” you conceded. “Depends, I guess. Is he, like, total you or some weird, kinda fucked up clone? Like, is he totally evil or incapable of coherent thought or, I don’t, off somehow?” As an afterthought, you joked, “More so than the real you, anyway.”
“Rude.” There was no bite in the declaration, only a fond amusement that made your chest ache, but you did your best to ignore it as he hummed. “Clone’s a totally normal, complete carbon copy. Everything about him is exactly the same, down to the last hair.”
“So, no aspirations to rule the world or become, like, the next Leatherface?”
Eddie grinned. “That’s my backup plan, you know, if music doesn’t work. So, guess it’d be his, too,” he admitted, only breaking into laughter when you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “Seriously,” he relented, “nothing weird. Just another me. Everything you know and love, times two.”
With a sigh, you lifted your legs onto the couch and hugged your knees to your chest. “Then… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the screams still echoing from the television. “Maybe?”
“It’s a yes or no question, babe,” he reminded you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Shouldn’t be this hard.”
That look, the one that you had difficulty placing, returned and despite your uncertainty as to what it was, you were certain that you didn’t like it very much. Doubt, or maybe hurt, were the closest emotions you could identify though neither made much sense to you in the moment.
Still, rather than ask, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”
There was none, it was just for fun - a debate, like the thousands of others you’d had over the course of your friendship - and Eddie said a much as he shrugged. “Isn’t one,” he declared, offering you the last handful of popcorn. “I just want to know if you’d fuck my clone.”
When you refused, he returned the bowl back to the coffee table before reaching for your ankle. With a gentle tug, he encouraged you to rest your feet on his lap as his fingers began to tap a beat that only existed inside his head against your skin. “Why does it matter?”
Eddie shrugged once more, though this time, he glanced at the television rather than you as he answered. “Because I asked and you always answer.”
“I do,” you relented, sighing as you also spared the screen a glance. “Well, what’s the right answer, then? There has to be one.”
This time, he shook his head as the tapping of his fingers grew a touch faster. “Right answer’s the true one.”
For a moment, you simply studied Eddie. His side profile, bathed in the warm glow of the television, was the picture of concentration as he watched a scene you’d seen a thousand times before. Only, you knew him well enough to see the telltale signs that he was in no way paying as close of attention as he should’ve been.
The slightest tick in his jaw, the quick bite of the inside of his cheek, the delayed blinking; all signs that he was waiting more intently for your answer than he wanted you to believe.
Rejection - no matter how hypothetical - never seemed possible when it came to Eddie. So, you sighed and conceded, “Okay, fine. Sure, I’d fuck your clone.”
Eddie hummed, seemingly unsurprised and feigning nonchalance as he nodded as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. And there were a thousand ways in which you expected him to respond; none of which could’ve compared to him declaring, “So, you’d fuck my clone but not me.”
Again, rejection was not an option. However, you had no intention of admitting to him that you’d wanted him for years. There was no world in which you could see yourself admitting to him that you thought he was beautiful - with his doe eyes and playful grin. Telling him how you felt would likely end in an awkward silence at best and a ruined friendship at worst.
So, you opted for a careful denial. “What? I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re not saying anything to the contrary,” he countered, turning his head to spare you a cursory glance. There was something there, beneath the amused glimmer in his eyes, that unnerved you - something far more serious than you were expecting - but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
When you shot him an unimpressed glance, cutting your eyes at him before returning your attention to the television, he shrugged, teasing grin never faltering. “I never said that. I answered a hypothetical and you’re reading into it.”
Eddie met your perhaps too sharp denial with a raised brow as he gave up the guise of watching the movie. “So, am I wrong?”
“Would you stop putting words into my mouth?” You huffed as you reached for the bowl of popcorn, desperate for something to distract yourself from making a confession you knew you would regret. “I never said that. All I said was that I’d fuck your clone, I answered the question.”
“Okay, fine. You never said you wouldn’t fuck me but it’s never happened. Never even sort of, almost, maybe happened,” he reminded you - as if you needed it. “So, you would fuck my clone but not me. Why?”
“Because we’re friends, Eddie,” you shot back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “I’ve known you since I was ten.”
The excuse sounded weak in your own ears, but it was all you could muster without breaking down and confessing that you would, in fact, sleep with him. If only he’d ask. If only it wouldn’t destroy your friendship. If only it was that simple.
Still, Eddie was relentless. “But my clone would have all my memories, totally the same person,” he reminded you. “He’d be your friend, just like me. But you’d fuck him. So, why not me?”
“This is stupid,” you huffed. “Why do you care?” He’d never pushed so hard, not in pursuit of a hypothetical question meant to pass the time, and you were genuinely curious why he seemed so interested in your answer, or your lack thereof.
“I’m a naturally curious person,” he argued, shrugging as he squeezed your ankle. “It’s just a stupid hypothetical. C’mon, why would you hypothetically fuck my clone but not me?”
There was little doubt in your mind that he would continue pushing until he got the answer he was looking for, especially as it seemed that he’d already made up his mind that he was right, so you shifted yourself in a huff. With your legs now hugged to your chest, eyes on the television to avoid meeting his gaze as you admitted in a snap, “God, okay. I’d fuck your clone because it’s the closest I’d get to being with you without actually destroying our entire relationship. Happy with that answer?”
“What?” Eddie sounded genuinely surprised and you could feel the warmth of his gaze burning into your skin as you purposely kept your gaze on the television.
“If your clone is you, all your memories, your mannerisms, your looks, I’d fuck your clone because then I’d get to see what it’s like to be with you,” you admitted, words escaping despite every fiber of your being telling you to be quiet. “I’d get everything without the risk of losing you when I fuck it all up.”
Eddie shifted closer then, careful to keep a few inches of space between you but no longer nestled into the opposite edge of the couch as he tipped his head to get a better glimpse of your face. “What do you mean, when you fuck it up?”
Frustrated tears - at admitting a secret you swore would follow you to the grave, at allowing him to get under your skin when he was simply asking an innocent question, at allowing yourself to get so worked up over something so simple - stung at the backs of your eyes as you huffed. “I’m… you know me, Eddie. I don’t,” you sighed, cutting yourself off, before taking a deep breath. “I’m prickly. I don’t do well with romance. I freak out and run,” you reminded him. “Even if you felt the same, if we worked out enough to not have our friendship go down in flames, there’s still a chance I’d fuck it up and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to run from you.”
“Hey.” Eddie shifted even closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and sighed when you refused to glance at him. Regardless, he exclaimed, “That’s why we’d be different.”
“What?” Of all the things you expected him to say, that was the last. With furrowed brows and tears still lining your lashes, you tipped your head to glance at him. “Why?”
“Because,” he began, meeting your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours, “when you try to run, I know what you’re doing. When you get all weird or try to push me away, I know it’s not really you wanting me to go. I know you. I get you, just like you get me.”
“Eddie.”
Of all the ways you’d expected him to react, of all the ways you expected him to acknowledge your feelings for him, returning them was not on the list. For years, you’d convinced yourself that there was no way he would return your feelings, there was no way you would ever be able to acknowledge those feelings without losing your best friend, and there was still a deep-rooted fear that, despite his seeming certainty that his understanding would make a difference, any attempt at a relationship would only end in heartbreak.
That didn’t seem to matter to him as he pressed on. “I’m serious. It’s us,” he continued, this time reaching out to press a hand to your knee. “It’s always been us, always will be us. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me. Not now.”
“You can’t know that,” you sighed, though it was nowhere near as confident as you hoped it would be. “We can’t see the future.”
“We can’t,” he agreed. “Not yet, anyway, but the nineties seem promising.” When you rolled your eyes, barely suppressing a smile, he laughed. “But that’s the fun part. We do our best to make our own future. It’s always going to be together, might as well come clean and really be together instead of making ourselves miserable pretending.” Before you could respond, offer another half-hearted refusal, he pressed on. “What do we have to lose?”
“Everything.”
Eddie shook his head, completely unconvinced that anything bad would come of allowing yourselves to try. “I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“How can you be so certain?” You wished you had an ounce of Eddie’s certainty, his true belief that the pair of you could make it, but you were skeptical. Neither of you had much luck in life, neither of you had much outside of one another, and losing him would be far too great.
However, you were tired of pretending that a shared future was not what you wanted.
The possibility that your future could go up in flames, that you could destroy the best friendship you’d ever had, worried you. It kept you awake at night. But now knowing that Eddie felt the same, that he wanted the same future you did, there was no way you could turn him down.
For all your fear, for all your hesitance, saying no was not an option.
“Because we’ve been in love for years and nothing bad has happened yet.” He said it as if it was the most obvious answer he could give, as if it made all the sense in the world, and if you really stopped to think about it, it did.
“Can you promise me something?”
Eddie shifted ever closer, nodding easily as you reached for his hand. “Anything.”
“Can you promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends? Even if we don’t work out, if something happens, promise me that we’ll still be there for each other.”
“I promise. Nothing hypothetical about that,” he agreed, corner of his mouth lifting when you offered a soft smile.
The moment stretched around you, nothing existed outside of the pair of you as Eddie tugged you into his side. It was easy, natural, and you melted into his touch despite the fear lingering in the back of your mind.
There was a brief worry that this could be a mistake. That allowing yourselves to intertwine your futures so thoroughly would only end in heartbreak, but he was right. For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Eddie. There was nothing that had managed to wedge you apart yet. And pretending had no guarantee of working in the long term.
So, you decided to dive in to the deep end and allow yourself to truly fall. There was no situation, real or hypothetical, in which he would allow you to hit the ground.
No matter what, you knew that he would be there to catch you.
________________________________________________________
Author's Note: I spent my entire day in meetings. All the meetings. So many meetings. I also have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I am Terrified. So have this.
Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff, @valthevalkyrie-main, @crying-caro, @inglourious-imagines
#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things fluff#eddie munson fluff#v's fics
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I'm back with a part 4 if you want to do it it's kind of more of a crack write I just need Klarion trying to explain the family tree
But not explaining how he was made at all So Young Justice and the Justice League are now convinced that a the Ghost King was a teenage parent who is now 27 years old and just passed college with a degree in astronomy and machinery
Klarion's other parent is a a crazy fruit loop 64 year old millionaire who went to college with Klarion's Mom parents who had an emotionally unhealthy obsession with his mom's mother and then it passed on to his mom.
And he has an older sister who is technicality a clone of his mom but also has the bastards DNA so fundamentally making Ellie Vlad Master and Mom's first born kid but there's six other siblings that Klarion had that died back a while back but Mom got granddad who's apparently the time lord AKA Cronos which is a whole another long story to go back in time and save those kids get them fixed up and now Klarion technicality has seven older siblings which all do their own things
And then he starts mentioning his uncle who is a 9 ft yeti his technicality auntie who is a medieval ghost princess who can turn into a dragon his auntie Pandora and his his grandfather cronos
My names for the six other clone children are Donald (he/him), Cecelia (they/she), Bartholomew(Them/They), Kyle AKA Bite(He/It), Brutus(He/They), and then there's Danna (She/Her) who actually really like the name Dan and asked Klarion if could have it when Klarion changed his name
Sorry if this is a little bit too much I've just really been thinking about au for this after the last part you made I hope this helps you with your writing or at least makes you laugh but I really love the idea of Danny's AKA somewhat clone children and finding their own personalities and and fighting themselves out of just being failed clone of their mom also I love the idea of Danny going back in time to save the rest of the clone kids cuz now he's a mature adult who wants to save their lives and wants them to grow into their own people.
(≧▽≦)
I probably did way to much research into all the fandoms I am in to see what I could tie into this... And yet this feels shorter than it should but I also currently lack the time to add more. But for now I hope this will be satisfactorily.
Also this family tree idea especially the part of saving the melted clones. LOVE IT!
So even though it took me a while! here is Part 4 you inspired! Thanks so much for the ask!
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"Dude, you are making us only curious!" Impulse spoke up as he sat down next to Klarion who had his head in his hands. "Like you and your mom can't just drop your family lore like that!"
The witch boy on the other hand looked up with narrowed eyes at the speedster. "What lore?"
"Let's see, the part that apparently a Vlad tried to kill your Grandpa to make friends several time. That your mom is 'ghost' adopted by the lord of time Cronos and Pandora, which makes us family too by the way, and that you have a sister that apparently is even crazier than what we got to know of your family so far." Wonder Girl counted off her fingers next to him grinning as she mentioned the part of probably being a part of his 'crazy' family too. Which hell yea, that sounded like a lot of fun to be explored she would have to talk with Wonder Woman about that as soon as possible.
"Also..." Red Robin added as he flipped through the photo album that apparently no one remembered he had. He was turning it around and pointed at a particular photo with a wild bunch of people in it that varied between more human and well... less humanoid people. One of them definitely was a Yeti and there was also what looked like living armor as well as Teekly (they knew that demon cat at least), a giant green dog and for some reasons there was a green aggressive looking Octopus in the background too. "...how are you related to a Yeti?"
"Hey that man there and those other teens in the picture actually have some resembles with you! Do you have older brothers too?" Superboy additionally asked as he moved around Red Robin to see the photo better pointing at a man that appeared to be in this late twenties, blue eyed, black haired and a little on the buffer side. If he didn't know any better and the fact that he should keep his mouth shut about their actual identities he would have jokingly asked Red Robin if his family would like to add more kids considering Klarions family apparently had a bunch of black haired blue eyed members too, judging by the photo at least.
"What are you talking about. That man is my mom and yes the others are actually my older brothers and that Yeti is uncle Frostbite who also happens to be the best medic in the Infinite Realms" The four teen heroes looked stunned at the picture and then back at the Ghost King that was smiling at them, still seated by the dinner table with their mentors. Who by the way were now perking up at the change of topic and the information they could gain with it, well Wonder Woman was more interested in the apparently extended family she had.
"Oh I remember we took this photo last year, it was such a hassle to get everyone into one place with them all being busy doing their own things." Danny mused for a moment, remembering fondly how he had to literally drag some of the kids home through a portal.
"It was more annoying than anything too since I was declared to be the youngest...." Klarion muttered also remembering that day not as fondly as his mother.
"Wait, wait, wait! That is a picture of your family? I need an explanation buddy!" Impulse cut in without shame, quickly removing the picture from the photo album to get a better look at it before holding it out to Klarion so he could explain all the individuals. "Plus why does your mom look soooo.... human?"
The witch boy on the other hand stared at him for a couple of seconds before looking over towards his mother as if waiting for something. After a moment the teen heroes as well as their mentors saw Danny nod with a little smile. "This dimension doesn't have the GIW so its fine, the Justice League Dark won't be a problem either, right?." Constantine flinched at the smile the Ghost King was giving him, muttering something under his breath as he had hoped his presence had been forgotten.
"Since mom is giving his okay...." Klarion mutter sitting crosslegged on the ground as he snatched the photo album from Red Robin and flipped through it. "Lets start with the easiest stuff to explain."
Danny chuckled noticing that not only the teen heroes but their mentors as well showed an interest. He choose to stay quiet letting the adults listen in on the kids, and if things went bad he would just ask Clockwork if they could revert time back to this moment and he would change his nod of permission to a shake of denial.
"Okay first of, this is my mom and his sister Jasmine, this is Danielle my older sister and that hulk with flaming white hair and blueish skin is me. That was before I got deaged because of destabilising." Klarion explained flipping to a photo of him, Danny, Jazz and Danielle. "Mom was around fifteen, Aunt Jazz about seventeen and Ellie should have been about a year old but she was aged up to twelve. They look human in this one because well they are. Mom was originally human and became what you call in this dimension a Meta through an accident."
"Wait... that would mean your mom... How could he have two kids at that age of fourteen? You look like an adult and your sister was aged up?" Wonder Girl couldn't help but ask as she looked from the photo and back to Danny at the dinner table again.
"That's cause Vlad was a fu-"
"Language Klarion!"
"Vlad was a fruitloop. That photo was taken shortly after Vlad and I sort of redeemed our selfs. Plus, mom didn't really have my sister and me willingly.... we were kind of forced upon him in a way." Klarion explained shrugging. "Old Man Vlad had an obsession with his mom that then turned on mom, which resulted in my oldest sister Danielle first. Actually, a lot of my elder siblings resulted from that, but they didn't survive it the first time, Mom got Old Man Clocks help to save them once he got used to being the Ghost King. I got added to the mix shortly after my sister, but... i wasn't in the best state of mind at first, kind of went through a redemption phase in which mom had to fix the timeline of our original home dimension, too."
Danny chuckled again at the disturbed looks the teens were giving his son as well as the looks their mentors sent him. He probably should correct Klarion's wording... but being one of the gremlins of his family he just smiled on, not commenting. He really understands now why Pops Clockwork liked watching the chaos he used to cause as teen, and still sometimes causes as adult.
"Klarion... how old is this Old Man Vlad?" Red Robin asked grimacing as his eyes under the mask flicked up to the Ghost King and then back to the witch boy both seemingly unbothered by the disturbing information they were sharing.
"In human years... probably around 67? You stop counting age at some point if your a halfa." Klarion shrugged, not noticing the grimaces of the teens around him. "Anyway, Ellie is sort of the first born. I came in after that, with my core being a mix of Mom and Vlad. Not DNA wise though since I came to be because of their ghost cores. That's why I look like that in this photo. Though human DNA wise I am probably now mostly Moms, we never bothered to ask the old man."
Danny muffled another chuckle, coughing as Superman sent him an incredulous look of shook while he felt Batmans burning gaze on him.
"You... mentioned more siblings?" Red Robin asked carefully sharing a look with his team, feeling like there was a whole lot of trauma in Klarions family he wasn't sure they should address or not. So asking after his siblings was probably, hopefully the safest option. They didn't know that while there was trauma in the witch boy's family it was not the kind they were imagining.
"Yea I got a bunch more brothers, Vlad was a evil crazy fuitloop, before he redeemed himself. They all kind of melted in one timeline but mom and Grandpa Clock found a way to save them." Klarion nodded flipping to another photo containing him, as he looked now, and all his siblings.
"So, Ellie you know about already. The one with the sunglasses and died hair is Bartholomew, second oldest. They made themselves a home in other dimension, barely at home cause he has to much fun messing with something called a 'Starstream' by being a 'Constellation' and throwing gold coins at 'Incarnations'. Don't ask me what that means, I barely pay attention when he gushes about his favorit 'Incarnation'. They spent like all their money and pocket money there. Aunt Jazz thinks he might develop a gambling addiction if we don't stop his spendings." The teen heroes eyed the teen that looked like a young adult grinning in the photo as the witch boy pointed at the one next to them. "The one with the vile is my elder brother Bite, most responsible one of this bunch. Mom even allowed him to take care of a couple of dimensions by taking the role of being their God of Death. I think he messed them up more than helped but he is doing a somewhat good job, even if he is sort of obsessed with making some red head his saint or something..."
"One of your sibs is a God?" Impulse gabbed and Klarion just blinked at him with a shrug. "My Grandfather is the ruler of Time, your point is? Wonder Girl is also related to a God of your dimension."
"Never mind him, moving on." A yelp resounded as Superboy pushed Impulse head down leaning in more to see the photo better. "You got one emo looking brother there!"
"Oh that's Yamikumo, he is like a year or two older than me right now, in human years. He barely got any of mom's powers so he choose to try to life a somewhat normal life but weirdly enough he choose a dimension that is ruled by people who have powers and abilities, you know like the Meta Humans of this dimension. Now that I think about it, he is also the only one who actually is studying on how to be a Hero."
"Do you end up fighting with him if he studies to be a hero?" Wonder Girl whisper asked him with a quick glance towards their mentors, to which Klarion shook his head. "As long as we leave the dimensions one of us choose to live in alone we usually don't fight about stuff like that, aside from the usual sibling fights that is. Then again I do have some siblings that like to make bets like who is better at ruling as demon lord, or who can safe a dying timeline quicker."
Danny chuckled again as he watched the kids, Klarion had definitely caused some misunderstandings with his wording. Then again it wasn't like Klarion said anything that wasn't true, but then again his son loved chaos. So there was a suspicion that Klarion intentionally choose the way he worded the explanation about how he and Ellie came to be as well as the rest of siblings.
"So....." Superman slowly started wondering how he should bring up the topic. "...you became a mom at 14?"
"Say Danny is there a way for me to meet this Vlad? You know since we are family." Wonder Woman also asked smiling in a certain way that reminded Danny of Valerie when she was mad but didn't want to show right away how mad she was, to which the Ghost King on reflex could do nothing but gulp for a moment. Not noticing that a green post it note appeared on the table before him.
#question and answer#thanks for the ask!#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#crossover#dan phantom#klarion the witch boy#tim drake#conner kent#bart allan#cassandra sandsmark#young justice#Dan is Klarion#Danny is Dan's mom#mom danny#ghost king danny#Part 4#Time for some world building#Dan's family explained#with misunderstandings#Wonder Woman and Superman want to have a talk with Vlad#Batman to he just didn't actively say it#they promise its just a talk#Klarion might have used the wrong words on purpose#The phantoms are gremlins#no beta we die like danny#unedited
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