#every time he tries to teach me something or answer one of my questions it goes crazy out of hand and i cry idk why | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

springwitch26 · 2 months

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flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti smut #wlw smut #4/20 friendly #stoner fic #fanfic

485 notes · View notes

tiredfox64 · 1 month

Note

Hellooo! First of all, I love your fics, especially Tomas's. They are very entertaining and the way you write is just great ^^

This is more of a question than a request, although you can develop it further if you want.

How would the linkuei trio react to a s/o who says "I hate men... except you"

It came to me out of nowhere and I thought it was funny 🙃

There Are Exceptions

Prior notes: Hehehe I throughly enjoyed writing this. Also I forgot to say this with other people’s requests who gave me compliments but thank you so much for liking my writing! (*´∀｀*)

Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Men

Bi-Han

These dim witted, nitwit goobers who serve your husband are too much to handle. All they know how to do is punch and kick. They have no other survival instincts that can save their asses.

It’s so tiring being the one to try to help them with whatever. A woman can only do so much.

You tried teaching them how to sew only for them to say something stupid like it’s a woman’s hobby. Forget about cooking. You have never seen someone screw up scramble eggs so much that it doesn’t even form. How the fuck does it stay watery? And why are you the only one who knows how to fold clothes? Screw steaming out their wrinkles.

Your last straw today came in the nighttime when one of the clansmen came up to you and ask the most stupidest question you have ever heard.

“Uhm, some of the men were telling me that a woman’s period was when she peels her skin every month. Is that true? Cause if it is you hide it well.” This clueless assassin…oh goodness.

You just stared blankly at the young man. It had to be a joke, right? They can’t be that stupid. Actually, you don’t want to know if they are that stupid. You walked away briskly with one thing on your mind and you had to shout it out. The moment you walk into your bedroom you slammed the door shut and screamed,

“I hate men!”

Bi-Han was already in bed, waiting for you to come around. He stared at you with that grumpy expression he always has before folding his arms in front of his chest. A low grumble was being emitted by him.

How can you say you hate men when you are married to one? One that treats you like the queen you are considered you are the grandmaster’s wife. He is also one who pleasures you till you are fully satisfied. Course, it’s more like you have to go on until he is satisfied.

“…except you.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I should be the exception here. I am the grandmaster, I deserve your full respect.” Bi-Han reminded you of his role as if he doesn’t do so every day.

“And you are also my husband,” you walked up to him and placed a kiss on his forehead, “Now would you mind spooning me for tonight.”

“After that outburst, I am unsure if you deserve it.” Now he’s just being petty.

You pouted as you changed into your sleepwear. If Bi-Han looked for at least five seconds he would have caved. But he looked away immediately to prevent himself from changing his decision. You huffed as you slipped into bed. You went on your side and pretended like you didn’t care. You did because you always lost the idgaf war.

“Please, I love you.” You said over your shoulder.

Bi-Han let out a groan before turning over and wrapping his arms around your waist. Haha you win.

You may not like men but you love this man. You like this man because he’s your man.

Kuai Liang

Why does no one think of the logical answer to something?

You go out to the market all the time so you could help feed the Shirai Ryu. It helps lessen responsibilities for your husband. But even this simple task is made difficult and stupid because of some of the venders. More specifically the men.

You asked for watermelon and they hand you plastic containers with the funkiest bits of watermelon. They are discolored and are definitely past their ripeness. Yet they all tell you it’s fine. It’s not fine! It’s not good quality! Why even cut the watermelon in the first place you can do it yourself!

You want some mangos? Well you can’t fucking have any because they don’t got it. Oh what’s that? A BUNCH OF FUCKING MANGOS RIGHT BEHIND THEM! And they tell you that those are honey mangoes you didn’t specifically ask for those. They told you no because they thought you wanted Haden mangoes. Just give the woman a fucking mango!

You’re so over those male venders. They never even help you pack the carts up.

You’re too tired went you get back to the temple. You let everyone else pack the food away without helping out this time. You can’t be bothered. You take your shoes off, step into the temple, and sigh heavily.

“I hate men.” You groaned.

You didn’t realize Kuai Liang was coming up to you to greet you. You looked up and saw his face. He stared blankly with a bit of concern.

“…except you.”

You wanted to make it right so you ran up to him, giving him many kisses and hugging him.

“What has made you so hateful, my love? Did someone at the market bother you?” He asked with concern.

Kuai Liang was not at all mad at what you said. He found it odd which meant there was something wrong. His hands went up to check if maybe it was something physical. He would hate to find out you were hurt while out. What kind of husband would he be if he can’t protect his wife?

“Many people bothered me at the market today. Some people are unfortunate stupid.” You replied.

“Perhaps you can tell me all about it in bed. I’ll make you some tea to help with the stress.” He took your hands as you both walked to the bedroom.

Kuai Liang is the kind of man you need in your life. If only the men at the market had his intelligence. Though you do like being cared for when there is any sign of distress from you. It makes you feel like a princess.

Tomas

To help train the Earthrealm champions is like trying to train a seal, a kangaroo, a bison, and a Komodo dragon to leap at least a meter out of the water. One will succeed, another will jump but not reach it, another one won’t try to jump, and the other will be too busy trying to mate with you.

They are all nice in their own way but Johnny is the worst of them all. You tell him you are happily married and it’s in one ear and out the other. Just because his marriage failed doesn’t mean yours has to.

Kenshi is alright he just has stubborn. He believes it’s nerves that wins fights. If that were true why does he keep failing to you. And when he is not going against you he’s going after Johnny’s throat. You get it, Johnny won’t give back Sento. But now is not the time to bust his ass.

Kung Lao just gets on everyone’s nerves. You have never seen a bunch of monks ready to implode and strangle someone. Don’t forget that you almost lost your head because he flung his hat in the wrong direction. All you got back was a small ‘sorry’ before he took his hat and ran off.

And Raiden…he’s fine. He’s done no wrong.

Yet no matter what you always have to return and help the fools. You give and give and what do you receive? Hell!

You are exhausted when you return home. You don’t talk to anyone you just go straight to your bedroom. You let out a groan the whole time and when the door closes you let that groan become words.

“I hate men.”

Tomas was already waiting for you in the bedroom. He was walking up to you to hug you until he heard those words. He looked concerned and even a little sad.

Well he’s a man, do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He hopes he didn’t, he doesn’t want an unhappy wife.

Your attitude immediately went away at the sight of Tomas.

“…except you.”

You ran into his arms and hugged him tight. You could never hate a man like Tomas. He is your husband after all. You picked a good one compared to all the other men that you have seen.

“I’m guessing they upset you again.” He asked.

You nodded. The day is already over you don’t feel like talking about every single stupid thing that they did. Tomas understood and hugged you tight.

“Do you want me to beat them up?” He whispered jokingly in your ear.

For once today you laughed. He always manages to bring a smile to your face. You wish you could let him but that would be a bad decision. Though it’s funny to think about. He was just happy to hear that wonderful laugh of yours. It just shows that he’s a good man to you. He can turn a frown upside down and make you see the good in men. Or at least the good in him.

After notes: Can you tell I got pissed off with Kuai Liang’s part? That shits a little too true. Those instacart tik toks be crazy. Here’s a little experience of when I hated men: one didn’t take no for an answer for YEARS. He still can’t take no even from other girls. But most of the men I know are good. Alright enough yip yap I must march on. Adiós!

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cameronspecial · 3 months

Text

Neverending Texts

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe's small crush on his tutor definitely doesn't lead him to text her a little too much.

A/N: Insipred by this post.

Masterlist

Rafe’s education is not a responsibility Y/N ever expected to have on her plate. However, tutoring seems like a no-brainer for the girl who likes teaching and it is not like she could say no to Ward Cameron. Plus, Ward offered her an insane rate and even though her parents are rich, it is still nice to make her own spending money. Rafe and Y/N’s relationship is odd, to say the least. He always seems to have an interest in her, while she would rather be kept out of his social circle. This dynamic is only intensified by Rafe getting her number to set up tutoring sessions. He’ll often send her random texts that are so out of pocket, but she knows he is trying to invoke a conversation between the two of them. During all hours of the day, she will randomly receive jokes, facts, or gossip from the boy. Her responses were always a single word, not inviting the discussion to go any further. It never deterred him from trying every day though. Her hand shoves the hook through the stitch and the hook grasps onto some yarn to be pulled through. The buzz from her phone freezes her hands. She picks up the device and lets out a breath with a shake of her head. What is your ideal date? Normally, his texts would allow her a one-word answer; however, this one can’t be answered as such and she feels bad if she ignores it.

She takes a second to think about her reply. Baking pizza with extra mushrooms and a movie night. Maybe watch rom-coms. She sets her phone back on the desk and goes back to her crochet project.

———

He is pleasantly surprised she gives a thoughtful answer to the text. It seems his tactic of open-ended questions has worked. It doesn’t shock him that her idea of a prime date is something more intimate. Y/N has always been more reserved, so it makes sense she would prefer one-on-one time with her date. He likes that. That sounds like the perfect date, except for the extra mushrooms. We’ll have to only put it on half of the pizza.

Who said you were invited?

He chuckles at her retort and shakes his head. Why is there someone else you are dying to go out with? He holds his breath at her reply, not wanting her to say what he thinks she might. The little bubble with three dots displays her effort to rejoin. It stops eventually and no new words appear in a new bubble. He bites the corner of his lips as his thumb hovers over the button. He decides to bite the bullet, bringing the phone to his ear. It dials three times before she picks up. “Wow, moving on to phone calls to tell me your random thoughts. You really are getting more persistent, Cameron,” she teases. He can hear something clatter on the other end, “Can you blame a guy for wanting to hear your voice, Teach?” She giggles with a sigh. “What did you need?” she urges. He shrugs, “I told you. I just wanted to hear your voice. I also wanted you to answer my question and to hear if you are lying.” “Why do you care so much?” she questions, rolling her eyes.

“Because if you don’t have anyone else on your mind, then I was hoping I could be the one to take you on that date.”

“I have no one else, but why me? What makes me so special in your mind?”

“You just have this je ne sais quoi to you that I can’t get out of my mind. We just click, Teach, and I know you can’t deny it.”

———

She traces the surface of her desk with her crochet hook as she tries to focus on his words. “I know you can’t deny it.” She would never admit she felt the spark he was talking about. It’s been something she tries to bury deep inside of herself because their personality dynamic would not make sense. Rafe likes all eyes on him and to be as loud as possible, whilst Y/N enjoys a quiet night in. The more she thinks about it, the faster her heart starts to beat, telling her to say yes. Yes to a chance at love. Yes to opening herself up to someone else. Yes to stepping outside of her comfort zone. “Okay, let’s go on a date.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #outerbanks

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liliesinrequiem · 2 months

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Obedience

A/N: The way I'm obsessed with this man isn't healthy. Fell in love when I saw him for the first time and haven't recovered since then. Hoping he's playable in the future! Thoroughly enjoy him as a character.

Pairing: Yandere!Sunday x Reader

Summary: Sunday doubts your honesty and proceeds with doing a trial on you.

CW: Unhealthy relationship, psychological distress, use of religion to manipulate, and briefly mentioned obsessive behaviors. Overall, not great relationship. Also, spoilers for 2.1 if you haven't completed it!

You knelt before him. He sat on his office chair with an expectant look on his face. It’s just that you weren’t sure what he wanted. “Now, is there anything that you’re hiding from me?” he asked. The iciness of his voice pierced your heart and you looked down at your hands.

“No,” you answered quietly. A gloved hand gently grabbed your chin and tilted your face to force you to look at him. Brilliant, golden eyes stared back at you. He was dissecting every aspect of you. The perfectly crafted smile on his face hid his disappointment. Sunday was always so meticulous with how he appeared in front of others.

“I’ll give you one final chance,” he said. “Do you have anything to admit?” The weight of his expectations made your lungs feel like they were going to be crushed.

“I don’t,” you answered. His gentle grasp on you tightened slightly. Your heart began to sink. He didn’t believe you. Had you done something wrong? Maybe you had without realizing it? You just couldn’t think of anything.

“I thought that we’d been getting better. It seems that I need to teach you once more what happens if you lie to me,” he said. You shook at the meaning of his words. “Remember, my dove. Honesty makes the Great One happy and lies only mark the soul for damnation.” His mantra lived within your mind. You’d become incapable of lying to others even outside of your relationship with him. You didn’t want to upset the Great One. More importantly, you didn’t want to upset Sunday.

“Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.” The world around you seemed to warp as you felt the intense pressure from the Harmony in your mind. It’d been a very long time since Sunday had used this method to get you to confess something. At first, you tried to fight against it, but you soon saw what could happen to a person if they weren’t honest. So, you gave him what he craved: absolute control. Everything you did must be able to be watched by him. Even movement in the waking world. Eventually, there had been little reason to ever use it on you as you did all that he ordered of you. “Let us begin the questioning, my dove. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” It didn’t matter if you were or weren’t. The countless voices of the Harmony were already wrapping around your mind like a suffocating hug. You sometimes wondered how much a human body could sustain this sort of thing. You’d had the consecration done very few times. But you couldn’t help but wonder if that had left some permanent mark on you.

“First question: who did you speak to in the Golden Hour near the Clockie Statue?” One aspect of being with Sunday was knowing that he’d scrutinize every detail of what you did. Even the smallest thing could be seen as potentially insulting the Great One’s image.

“A guest that was visiting the Golden Hour for the first time,” you answered. The guest had a confused expression when he approached you.

“What did he ask you?” asked Sunday. The sequence of questions always started innocently. It was to delve deeper into your mind. By the time he reached the thing he actually wanted to ask, your mind was already being unspun by the Harmony.

“What the best sights were in the Golden Hour. I offered some places such as Dr. Edward’s and some shops that I knew were popular,” you answered. He’d gone on his merry way once you’d pointed the right direction for things.

“What is your favorite sight to see in all of Penacony?” His voice was much sterner with you during questionings. Even when the question wasn’t anything deep.

“Dream’s Edge. I like the shooting stars,” you said confidently. He nodded as if he already knew the answer to that. In all likelihood, he did. Everything about you was neatly written down and maintained somewhere within his archives. That was all you knew, though. Where and how he maintained them was unknown.

Your head was starting to hurt. “A Bloodhound told me that he saw you speaking with a woman at Dream’s Edge,” he said. “He told me that the woman was telling you that she felt as if something was missing in her life. What was your response?”

“That she should check in with a dream nurse when she wakes up,” you said. Her panicked state had made you panic a bit. You hadn’t seen someone who was suffering from such a severe case of missing memories like her in a while. You hadn’t had enough courage to go back to Dream’s Edge alone.

“Why did you spend a whole night in the Moment of Blue Hour?” Through the excruciating headache, you’d started to wonder why he was only asking about the people you were speaking to. Was he investigating something? What could it be?

“...An old lady. She wanted company as she waited for her lover to return. She said that he promised to return from war and that she’d been waiting for him since then…I couldn’t leave her alone.” The emptiness in her eyes reminded you of other visitors who desperately sought out their lost ones in the realm of dreams. It seemed that the old lady might have to wait longer.

“She seems to know how to keep promises. Next question: who are you most loyal to?” he asked. Did the question even have to be asked?

“I’m most loyal to you, Sunday.” No one else had such power to swing you between life and death so carefully.

“When I asked you if you were hiding anything from me, were you honest with your answer?” The sound of the Harmony’s voices had gotten progressively louder. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hands. The pain was the only thing keeping you steady as you drowned in thousands of voices. Meanwhile, your beloved merely looked down at you.

“..........I was.” It was getting more difficult to respond. The weight was collapsing on you. Even if you were being honest, you wouldn’t feel free until liberated from its power.

“My dove, did you know that every single person who you’ve spoken to recently wound up dead in the dream?” he asked. Your eyebrows furrowed. What was he talking about?

“No.” People come and go. How could you keep track of what others did post your interactions with them?

“The final question: can you swear to me that you haven’t been working with the killer?” he asked.

“.................I swear.” You knew that the killer had been filling his mind recently. But how could you have anything to do with that? You rarely even interacted with people. Was that why he was interrogating you? Couldn’t he corroborate with his servants to see that you hadn’t done anything against him? Why couldn’t he just put his faith into you?

You were on the edge of tears. The power that he had placed on you made you feel as if you were burning up against the cool of his glove. Their united voices had started to sink into your psyche. How much more? Through his usage of the consecration, he knew whether you were lying or not. He had to know that you were being honest.

Sunday smiled at you and it felt like a light at the end of the tunnel. “You’ve done well, my dove. You haven’t uttered a single lie,” he said. “The Great One has chosen to show you mercy once more for being such an honest person.” He let go of your face. You could feel the power leaving your body as you laid your head on his lap. The exhaustion was something else. Your head swam with too many things at once.

His hand gently patted your head as a method of calming you down. The shaking of your body gradually stopped through his touch. “I have one final question,” he said. Another test. Something easy to do when the other party was still vulnerable.

“What is it?” you asked quietly.

“Do you love me, (Y/N)?” A simple question. He was your lover. A man who held a lot of power in all of Penacony. The one who had promised you a beautiful dream as long as you followed him. Even though you feared the use of the consecration, if you were honest, he’d save you from it. Just as he had always done so. It only further proved his point, didn’t it? As long as you did as he said, Sunday wouldn’t bring real harm to you.

“Yes.” He was the one who could condemn you to the eternal abyss of damnation and the only one who could save you from it. He was your judge and your savior all in one.

#honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x y/n

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artist-issues · 16 days

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every now and then I play with the exercise of "what if we're wrong" because sometimes I get bored and also as an actual exercise. I usually apply this to Christianity/religion, matters of the after life, or about other people.

So sometimes I poke at the big question, if Christianity isn't real, what does that mean? And I don't usually go the route of atheism or bad sci fi, just that the religion is proven to be fundamentally inaccurate to reality, so what does that mean?

Anyway it wasn't until I was reading a really good sci fi story, where this one dude explains to some aliens the concept of "Love your enemies, do good to those that hurt you" and of course the aliens are like what? (Because in the sci fi narrative the universe is functioning under a Dark Forest Theory) And the dude explains its from one of earth's greatest teachers. And the aliens are like, if the inhabitants of the universe could believe that, this universe would be a different place entirely.

And it was at that point where I realized bro... even if it's not accurate, practicing Christianity is still worth it, for a human being. Loving your enemies means loving them like humans. The Poor, the Meek, and those who mourn, those are promises and comforts that we shouldn't toss aside even if heaven isn't real.

I don't know, this is just a terribly simplistic because I'm not the best at putting my English thoughts into english out loud, but that crack gave me a touch of useful coping. I asked my dad, if aliens are proven to exist it doesn't automatically mean christians stop practicing and believing, right? And he said obviously not.

I don't know but have you ever engaged in such a question " what if we're wrong?" And if you ever have what answer had you arrived at?

EDIT: As @atwas-meme-ing correctly pointed out in the comments section of this post, who cares whether or not I’ve played this game: God answered the question through Paul in his letter to the Corinthians: “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.” 1 Corinthians 5:19.

There’s no “good moral teaching” to be found in Christianity if Christ wasn’t God, or if God didn’t exist, or if eternity weren’t real. My rambling logic is below the cut.

I mean, I play that “game” all the time about other things, and sometimes I do it for work. I’ll take two established characters and a setting me and my friends have agreed on, and I’ll “run a scenario.”

But the thing is, once my brain picks out something that doesn’t make sense, or that wouldn’t be in-character for the characters to do, the whole scenario grinds to a halt and I have to start over. I can’t suspend my own disbelief once I notice that something doesn’t line up. Even if I really liked “where the scene was going” before I noticed that thing. Whatever I’m getting stuck on because of it’s out-of-character nature unravels the parts I like, too.

All that to say I can’t even run a scenario in my head where “what if all this isn’t true? What if it fundamentally doesn’t line up with reality?”

I can’t. Once or twice I have tried. But I hit snags immediately. I’ll go, “pretend all of this Christian religion really is just a centuries-old conspiracy humanity’s been patching up the holes in.”

But then that little simulation-checker in my brain goes, “then how do you explain people dying for it? That many martyrs aren’t likely to have allowed themselves to be tortured and murdered for something they knew was a conspiracy.”

And I go, “well, pretend they died because they didn’t know it was a conspiracy, they believed it.”

And the sim-checker goes, “but the original disciples of Jesus, ground-zero of the faith, were all martyred. Not just people who learned from them and came after them and could’ve been hoodwinked: the starting points, themselves. They would’ve had to know it was a conspiracy, if it was a conspiracy, and they still willingly died for it.”

Maybe I’ll pivot and go, “pretend there isn’t objective truth.”

And the sim-checker goes, “there isn’t truth…objectively?”

Maybe I’ll pivot again and try, “pretend that everyone really does just measure morality based on what they’re used to, what their individual society’s trained them to associate with pleasant feelings and reactions.”

And the sim-checker goes, “Okay, where did those societies get the training manual? Where did it come from? Why do so many different societies’ and people groups’ ‘association with pleasant feelings and reactions’ around the world have so many things in common?”

And the answers to all that leads me back to Christianity. Even if I go the longest way round I can think of.

And eventually I quit running those scenarios. Because guess what?

Where’d the ability to run scenarios come from?

How did I get that? How did you?

See, the thing is, we go, “what if all of this isn’t true?” But it’s right there in the question. “Where did you get that desire? The desire for “truth?”” Is it to keep yourself safe, like the natural animals have an instinct toward, or is it to keep yourself sane, because you need some sense in this life to make it through? Sure. Maybe. But why? What’s “sane?” What’s “safe?” Sanity presupposes order. Why do you, and all humans, naturally lean toward wanting things to be “the way they’re supposed to be?” Where’d that come from, that idea of “supposed to be?” And Safety presupposes good being found in avoiding pain and damage and fear. “Good?” Where’d you get that idea?”

The further you dig, even into your own psyche, the less you can run any scenario that has God absent entirely. And no wonder. He designed it.

One more thing.

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.” - C.S. Lewis

I used to lean into the idea you’re saying here. “Even if it’s not true, I’m going to live like it is and believe it just in case. Besides, it makes me better, and makes the world better.” That’s not belief at all. That’s ends-justify-the-means thinking. The teachings that Jesus gave which “make the world a better place” are utterly worthless if they’re coming out of the mouth of a liar. Because why should anyone believe Him? Why should anyone “turn the other cheek,” or “do unto others?” Because it makes us “better?” Who gets to define “better?”

The answer, of course, is Jesus does. The One who taught those sayings. But only if He’s God. Only if He was telling the truth. If He wasn’t God, what right has He, to tell us to give away our possessions to others and let them abuse us and give our lives up? If He was a liar, all of those “good teachings” would be tainted and untrustworthy. Besides, like I just said, they’re all only able to be called “good” teachings if you accept that there is one objective, universal “good.” And we’re right back to “where did Good come from?”

All roads lead back there, to Him. But we humans like to do this thing with God where we pretend there could be any reality outside of Him. It sort of makes sense, how we got that way. After all, when was the last time you noticed oxygen? How often during the day do you consciously inhale and exhale? As often as it happens automatically? How often during the day do you notice oxygen touching your skin or moving your hair or drying your eyeballs? As often as those things happen automatically? No. But it’s ever-present. Without it, you couldn’t live, let alone notice anything. But oxygen has always been around and everything in our lives interacts with or can only exist WITH it. God is much more than that, but that’s as close as I can get to communicating: He’s so good, and He’s so constantly there, everything, all the time, that it’s easy for us to take Him for granted, forget Him entirely, then use our two-pound brain matter to say, “He might not exist.” You might as well say, “imagine a world with no matter.” 🙄 “Ohhhh kay. Then it wouldn’t be a world.”

#This was fun to talk about though #because even when you’re trying to pick apart truth for “fun” you just get…a closer look at how true truth is.#analysis #christianity #apologetics #theology #faith #Jesus Christ #Bible #c.s. Lewis

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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months

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the fifth night

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'hanukkah' (my family is non-practicing, but my great grandfather saltzman very much tried to keep us involved and the dreidel game with chocolate gelt was his way of teaching us something) rated: t wc: 736 tags: non-practicing Jewish Eddie, getting together, first kiss, flirting through the use of chocolate

🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙

Steve hadn't spoken to Miriam in almost ten years, not since his parents had let her go with the excuse that he was old enough to take care of his own needs at the age of 10.

She'd left him her number to call if he needed anything, but as most children do, he lost the piece of paper it was on.

Every year, on the fifth night of Hanukkah, he thought of her and her family, how they'd always made sure he was a part of their celebrations, even if he didn't understand most of them.

"What're you making?" Eddie asked as he walked into the kitchen, hands full of notebooks and folders for Hellfire.

"Latkes. Do you think everyone will want applesauce or sour cream?" Steve said over his shoulder, focused on making sure none of them overcooked. "Maybe I should just get both out. Gareth will probably want ketchup. Dustin, too."

He was met with silence, which was fine, he was used to Eddie distracting himself from conversations before he even got the answer to his original question. It was something he kind of lo-

"You're making latkes."

Steve turned at the tone in his voice, serious, but with the hint of a smile.

Sure enough, Eddie had a small smile on his face.

"Have you had latkes?" Steve asked.

Eddie set his things down on the counter and froze, noticing the mesh bag of chocolate gold coins sitting there.

"Are these for a dreidel game?" Eddie looked up at him.

"I don't have a dreidel anymore, but I figured since it's the fifth night, I could give one to everyone," Steve shrugged.

"I didn't know you celebrated Hanukkah."

"I mean, I don't. Not for religious purposes. But my nanny when I was young taught me about it and always brought her kids over on the fifth night to play," Steve watched as Eddie opened the bag and pulled out a coin. "Have you played?"

"My mom's family celebrated. I didn't really get a chance to do much, but when I was little, she always snuck me extra chocolate coins while the older kids argued about who won or whatever," Eddie smiled sadly. "Wayne tried to teach me, but I was kind of a brat when I first started living with him so I never learned."

Steve walked over to him, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing reassuringly.

"Never too late to learn. Maybe I can find one tomorrow?"

Eddie's eyes widened.

"Wait, did you say Miriam? Miriam Saltzman?" Eddie stood up straight.

"Um, yeah I think so. Why?"

"My aunt Miriam used to be a nanny!"

Steve's eyes widened.

"My Miriam? She's your aunt?"

Eddie nodded. "Must be." He paused, then tilted his head at Steve. "You're the Steve she always said she wished she could take home with her. She loved you."

Steve felt his face heat up in a blush, and that was before Eddie's hands cupped his cheeks.

"You must've been cute if she loved you so much. She barely liked most of the kids in the family," Eddie smirked. "You're pretty cute now."

Steve's lips parted in shock at Eddie's words.

"Cannot believe you're making latkes for us tonight. And giving us gelt? I knew I loved you for a reason," Eddie continued.

For a brief moment, Steve realized that the latkes in the oil would be burnt by the time he got back to them, but it passed quickly when he saw Eddie's eyes dart down to his lips and back up to his eyes.

"Might even give you two coins if you kiss me," Steve whispered.

"Sounds like a deal to me," Eddie smirked as he leaned in to brush their lips together in one of the softest kisses Steve's ever had.

When they pulled apart, Steve ran back to the stove while Eddie watched him, distracted from setting up the table for D&D.

"So, sour cream or applesauce?" Steve asked.

"Oh, I like both," Eddie responded.

Steve turned back to him, disgusted.

"Not together, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course together."

"No more kissing. I take that one back. You're gross," Steve sighed. "Knew it was too good to be true."

"And they say I'm the dramatic one," Eddie rolled his eyes playfully, planting a kiss on Steve's cheek before gathering his things and leaving to set up the table.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #hanukkah

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thoughtsforsoob · 5 months

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their s/o is a teacher! - nct dream

a/n: lmao ig im just gonna have to ignore that hate ive been getting! I'm gonna write for nct dream this time because for some reasons some MOA's are not being very kind towards my work. That is not an attack towards MOA because I am one of the biggest MOA's I know...it's jut not fair that some of the people I should be cool with are being so incredibly rude...over and over. anyways, that is all from me on that. please enjoy! as always, requests are open!

(I'm gonna add a cut off here so if you don't wanna read, you don't have to)

☆ mark lee ☆

he thinks it's so cute, especially if you teach little ones (kindergarten/1st grade)

he loves asking you about your classroom and how your work is going

he even helps you grade students assignments and he loves seeing what they say on their assignments

he also likes seeing their art work

he meets your students when you have a classroom part and he helps you set up

they immediately start to ask 100 questions, like kids do, ad he is totally okay with it.

he enthusiastically answers all their questions and they love him

they always ask for him every day after that

☆ huang renjun ☆

renjun thinks it's funny if you teach middle school

he is too good at listening to what happened during your day

he laughs at all the stories of students running around and causing chaos

he love's looking at the assignments you give them and tries to do them himself

he whines when he can't get something right and whines even more when you tell him you students got 100% on that question

☆ lee jeno ☆

he's one that thinks you teaching the older ones is cool

you're actually a college professor so he think's that's WAY cooler

he enjoys hearing you talk about the subject you teach and love's to hear you talk about your students and the assignments you gave them

when you offer to give him a your of the campus you work at, he is jumping at the chance

he even buys gear from the university you work at and wears it all the time (the letterman style jacket you got him is his favorite! he wear's it often and even wore it during a soundcheck of one of nct dream's concerts).

you bump into a few students and say hello, introducing jeno as your boyfriend

☆ na jaemin ☆

you teach kindergartners and he adores it

you helps you set up the different bulletin boards in your classroom and helps you organize/set up everything else

he loves to ask you about your lesson plans and you always ask him for ideas for activities and he helps you every time

he really want's to meet the little ones so after the year is done and they are graduating, he attends the event

they ask you, "teacher, who is that handsome man you were with? is that your boyfriend?"

they all giggle and go "ooooo!" and you tell them yes, that's him!

they run to meet him after the ceremony

☆ lee haechan ☆

he would probably find it interesting if you teach high schoolers

since the first time you told him about all your students, he always asks about them and want's you to update them about how they're doing

his favorite thing to do for your students is to send them stuff!

he gives you money so you can buy them snacks for your classroom (and other supplies! my teachers in high school always had sanitary pads, tampons, snacks, and other stuff in them in case students needed them)

he wants to help you make sure your students feel safe in their classroom

he also funds the senior pizza party at the end of the year and even makes an appearance!

☆ zhong chenle ☆

I believe Chenle is also good with little ones since he's always posting with his family (especially his, I believe, little nephew)

he love's helping you choose coloring pages for your students to do when they're done with their minute math sheets (the stress it causes is always rewarded with coloring time!)

he also likes to buy nice supplies for you students

you tell hi not to do it, because kids love to break things and lose them, but he doesn't listen

he love's going supply shopping (he get's all the brand names like Crayola :0)

he also helps grade assignments!

☆ park jisung ☆

you teach middle school and he loves it

he loves hearing the stories of your students acting out during class because it makes him giggle

just give him a glare and he will stop laughing at your misfortune

he helps you grade their papers

sighs every time he get's a that says 'idk'

it's all fun and games until get's those papers...then he wants to flip the kitchen table other and help you quit your job

because he knows how much they stress you out, he's always making sure you're distressing at home.

fetching you a warm cup of coffee/tea, making/buying dinner, giving you massages, helping you with other class stuff.

#nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct dream #mark x reader #renjun x reader #jeno x readers #jaemin x reader #haechan x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader

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gojos-fr-bae · 6 months

Text

Liar pt.4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader

Warnings: Mother son power duo, angst, minute fluff, angsttttyyyy, not proof red

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Heyyy~~~, It's been a while no? I was procrastinating this for so long and had more to write but i'm too tired, smh. Hope you like it!

(Requests open)

Year 2

Y/N

You stood outside of Jujutsu Tech with your son in one hand and a large suitcase in your other. You planned on getting all your other belongings shipped to you later. You watched as principal Yaga ran down the stairs to greet you before his eyes landed on the small child’s big blue eyes staring up at him. Nonetheless, he still walked to you and gave you a bear hug.

“It’s so good to see you again!” He beamed. And you returned his smile.

“And I’m guessing this must be Kaito?” He said, smiling down at the shy boy who buried his face in your neck, clutching your t-shirt even tighter. “Not very social I see?” He smiled, thinking about how different his personality seemed to be compared to his father.

“Let me help you with that” He said, picking up your suitcase as you began to make your way up the stairs.

“Thank you”

You walked through the entrance of the school and were immediately hit with gigantic waves of nostalgia. From when you were a student, your days as a sorcerer, and all the time you spent with your friends and loved ones. With Satoru.

You snapped out of your trance when you saw Megumi standing at the end of the long hallway leading to Yaga’s office.

You screamed, startling the child in your arms as your eyes began to water. You gently put your son down and made a sprint towards your (technically) first child. He opened his arms and caught you as you leaped into them, giving him the tightest hug you could.

You pulled back, giving him a kiss on the forehead and both his cheeks. Although he tried to hide his emotions, his eyes still held crocodile tears.

You bombarded him with questions and just as he was about to answer them, you felt something tugging on your jeans. You looked down at your confused baby boy who was making grabby hands at you. You picked him up before explaining the situation to him.

“Sweetheart, this is your brother, Megumi, don’t you remember him?”

He looked up at Megumi, still slightly confused before a bright smile spread across his face.

“GUMIIII!!”He squealed in excitement, recognising him from all the video call they had throughout the years, reaching out to be carried by him.

Megs extends his arms out to him, holding him gently.

"Would you mind staying with him for a bit while I talk to principal Yaga?” You asked Megumi

“Sure, no problem,” He said, throwing your baby up in the air, causing him to erupt in laughter.

You smiled at the two boys before following Yaga into his office.

“Please, have a seat,” He pointed out to the seat on the opposite side of his desk.

You looked around the office, and your eyes landed on all the plushies strewn around the room. Some you recognised, others you couldn’t.

“So, your back, finally,” Yaga spoke up.

“Yeah, it seems so,”

“And you would like to teach again? And work as a sorcerer?”

"Yea, but only if you'll have me," you responded with a small smile.

“Of course we would love to have you back, you know better than anyone how desperately we need sorcerers, my question is, why?”

“Kaito is getting ready to join kindergarten in three months, but money was short and I wasn’t sure how I would manage, but working as a sorcerer makes me way more than enough money to give him a good future,” you said, smiling softly at the thought of your son.

“Okay…that makes sense, but my second question is, does HE know?”

You knew exactly who he was referring to, the father of your child.

“I haven’t spoken to him since he was sealed and so I didn't really feel the need to fill him in I guess.”

“You understand that he’s going to find out one way or another, and that he has every right to see his child, not to mention that you two had never officially gotten a divorce and so are still technically married.”

You heaved out a heavy sigh, “We’ll get there when we get there I guess”

“If you insist. We have already arranged for your dorm. You will find your uniform in there as well. We’re holding a staff meeting tomorrow at 10am, make sure you’re there.”

“Yes sir,” You said in mock seriousness before thanking him and making your way out of his office.

You picked up Kaito, thanking Meumi for the help before you began to walk towards the dorm.

As you began to unlock, you heard footsteps coming your way before coming to an abrupt stop a few meters beside you.

You looked up and were met with a site you had wished never to see. It was Satoru, but not like you had remembered him. His eyes were sunken, bloodshot, and surrounded by dark circles. He looked unbelievably skinny and barely standing, but with pure shock on his face, eyes so wide it looked like they would pop out of their sockets. He looks so…different and yet so familiar.

Satoru

He knew it. He knew he sensed her. From the moment she crossed the barrier separating Jujutsu Tech and the outside world. And he sensed him too. His child, his baby boy. At first, he ignored it, opting to stay in his office and focus on his work and reaching the bottom of his Johnny Walker. But he just couldn’t shake the feeling, and truth be told, it was you. His wife…and his and his son.

He stood in front of you in pure shock. You looked so fucking stunning. Your hair was longer and tied back and you were glowing. Seems like motherhood was treating you well. And so was life without him. And his son, he looked JUST like him. He couldn’t help the small sense of pride that bubbled in him as he stared at the big blue eyes that looked back up at him, before his own drifted back to you.

He had missed you so, so much, and all of the pain that had been building up and buried over the past few years all came rushing back to him. He was about to run towards you before you put your hand up in front of yourself, signaling for him to stay where he was.

He watched as you mouthed the words ‘thirty minutes’. You slowly opened the door and disappeared into the room. He couldn’couldn't do anything but wait. And so… he waited.

Y/N

You had to hide, take Kaito away. You didn’t want him to be there as you confronted his father. Your past. The love of your life. A stray tear rolled slowly down your cheek. You didn’t even notice until you felt a small chubby hand against your cheek.

“Mommy? Why you cwying?” Kaito asked, concern evident on his face.

“Nothing my love, sorry. Now come on, let's get ready for bed.” You said, placing kisses all over his face before making your way to the dorm's bathroom. Mentally preparing yourself for the rollercoaster that stood outside the room’s door.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Yayyyyy

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 100 FOLLOWERS, AAAAAHHHHH❤️❤️

Edit: I final edited this, I reread it and realised I just, forgot to add some lines, like I said them in my head but didn't type them out😭 this should make more sense now.

@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here

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frxxxncx · 9 months

Text

teach me, please - w. junhui

»roommate!¡Wen Junhui x fem¡!reader.

»Summary: While trying to masturbate your roommate tries to give you a hand.

»Tags: smut (MDNI), oral (f. receiving), cunnilingus, pet names, fingering, squirting, hair pulling, no plot just porn, guided masturbation, roommates to lovers(idk)

»Words: 2.9k

Note: Any typo or incoherence that you might find was completely intentional, it’s for the sake of learning about my mistakes.

You have always thought of yourself as a reserved person, and you thought of it as something good, but right now, when you are with your legs wide open in front of your roommate, you wish you had been more open to ask your girlfriend how to finger yourself, but you lived five hours far from each other and ask her to go for a coffee just so you can interrogate her about something so private as masturbating, was out of the question.

As embarrassing as it was, in your twenty-three years of life you've never masturbated, you like to think that it's because when you were young your best friend at the time say that when she tried, it didn't feel good, and that she just ended up with her fingers covered in blood, and obviously as a fourteen-year-old, that scared the shit out of you, blood? You didn't want to bleed from there for anything other than your period.

But now you know that probably she just tore her hymen, and that's why she bled at the time. So why didn't you try to get off?, Well, you didn't know how to do it, and to ask anyone how to do it was imposible, it's not like you could come to someone, and say "hey, I don't know how to masturbate, can you teach me?".

But now you want to know how is that you ended up with Jun sitting in the armchair in front of you while you tried to masturbate.

———————————————————————— Your level of stress has been building up throughout the day, leaving your essay that was due by tomorrow for last was the worst decision you have had in years, your muscles were stiff, and your back was killing you, sitting 8 hours straight was a method of torture you were not expecting to go through. Your head was pounding but you were scared to take another pill since you took one less than two hours ago.

When you finally finished the essay and stretched your back it cracked so deliciously that a quiet and satisfied moan left your lips, but you still had an awful headache, you thought about what could help you relive the pain and you remembered something your friend told you "When my head hurts I usually masturbate, swallow the pills it's too scary", the thought of it was scandalous for you, you even hit her in the arm, and she laughed at your chicks that were bright red.

After several minutes of thinking, you gave up and decided that masturbating was the answer to all of your problems.

You didn't even bother to close the door since Jun told you that he would be late. Your shorts and panties were long forgotten on the floor of your room, your fingers trying to make you feel good in some way by getting in and out of your poor cunt, it felt weird, uncomfy and the fact that you had to spit in your hand every now and then to use it as lube exasperated you, it wasn't like what your friend told you that happened when his boyfriend finger fucked her.

Your fingers were just jamming inside of you, and frustrated by it you were about to give up when the sound of your door closing sent shivers down your body.

"Hello, Mister DJ Downstairs" the raspy yet velvety voice scared you, You weren't sure if it was a product of your imagination, but still your hand stopped working as if it was doing anything at all, and your head snapped to your bedroom door.

"J-jun, what are you doing here? You said you were coming home late" Your hand looked for something to cover up but your pillows were on the other side of the bed too far to reach them without flashing your roommate even more.

"Baby, it is fucking late already, it's like three in the morning" Jun say in a chuckle while getting closer to you.

Your legs were close shut and your arms between your thighs, you were just thankful that you didn't take off your -his- black shirt.

"By the way what are you even doing, you lost something down there?" the comment made you giggle but at the same time offended you, you were trying your best and all, just for him to make fun of you?.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm tryna masturbate here, now get the hell out" Your tone was upset, and by all means, you wished he didn't notice the hope in your voice.

"Well, darling, you look like you're trying to get something from inside there, Why are you being so harsh with your poor kitty?" He was being serious about the fact that you completely sucked at whatever you were doing and that -even though it was the truth- hurt your ego, and when you feel attacked you tend to blast out the first thing that goes through your mind.

"Jesus, Wen Junhui, if you are such an expert, why don't you help me then?" Just as the words left your mouth, you didn't even have time to think about what you just said, when he answered.

"My pleasure, but first let me help you there, you need to know how to make yourself feel good" He got his phone from his back pocket and started to type something quickly.

His face went from his phone to you, and the soft smile he gave you, warmed your heart even in the given situation.

"I'll guide you," He said, putting one hand on your knee. The tact felt so hot you thought it would burn your skin.

"Ah?" His hand left a tingling sensation on your flesh making your tummy feel weird. You saw him sit in the armchair that was located just in front of you and felt small, his long legs were wide open and his elbows were over his knees, with phone in hand.

Your arms were still in between your thighs but this time they were looking for some kind of relief.

"Have you ever had sex?" he asked while scrolling through his phone again, interested in whatever he was reading " I'm sure you haven't, tho" he whispered so low that you were very sure he was saying that to himself.

"Jun, what the actu-"You couldn't even finish talking when he interrupted you to ask again "Have you ever had sex or not?" Behind his blank tone, you could sense he was starting to get annoyed and that sent a "funny" feeling to your cunt.

"No" You were not so close to him, but you still could see the flickering flame of lewdness that started in his eyes, and you didn't say a word about it.

"Perfect" he whispered to himself, locking his eyes in the place your hands were so desperate to hide from him.

"So what?" you were impatient and that was revealed through your tone making you feel embarrassed.

"I need you to do as I say, don't do more nor less than what I'm asking you" his voice sounded guttural, a small hint of desire making you whimper softly.

You nodded, waiting for him to start guiding you as soon as possible. "I need words, doll, say it, loud and clear." There was something about how he said that, and the way his eyes darkened while watching you open your legs again, that made you have shivers running down your spine.

"Yes, I'll do whatever you tell me to do, Teach me, please" your legs were wide open for him, you saw him but his lower lip while his eyes were locked in your cunt.

"Okey, baby, first relax, take a deep breath and lay down" his voice was soft, it was like every word slipped into your ears like honey, your nipples starting to harden.

You laid down, with your knees flexed, hands gripping your shirt tightly at the feeling of the cool air of the room brush in your cunt, you heard him move in the armchair, maybe fixing his posture, but that made you wish that he got up and touched you.

"I need you to know your body, touch your tits, fondle them, grope them, stroke your nipples, get yourself worked up before you start down in your pussy" you did as he said, you hands went under your shirt and you started to caress softly your breasts, outlining them, gently touching, massaging your nipples carefully with the palm of your hand, pinching them making your body quaver.

"That's it, sweetie, just like that '' his honeyed voice praised and you shuddered in your place, "You're doing so good, just as I say" a subtle whine escaped your lips making the man in front of you groan.

"Lift your shirt, let me see you completely" the tone was demanding, making your toes curl, your cunt pulsating desperately.

The shirt was over your breasts, the cold air making the sensitive buds perkier, the tips of your fingers drew delicate lines over your torso, on your ribs getting closer and closer to your waist.

The heavy gaze of Jun encourages you to continue "Cup your cunt and look how wet you are now, feel how drench your pussy is" hesitantly you hand touched over your cunt, fingers pressed lightly to your entrance, palm over your hard clit.

The feeling of the sticky wetness made you look over to your friend that was watching you with a crooked smile while gripping tightly the armrest making his knuckles look extremely white, eyes glowing in lust at your sopping core.

"Press your middle finger into your entrance, but don't go inside just yet" your finger pressed lightly, your hips trembling looking for something that could relieve the sting on your clit.

"Now, stroke your clit, do it slow, make circles" as instructed your now slick finger got to the bud of nerves, the circles were small, slow, at a timid pace but it still felt good "Do it faster, baby, harder" the tempo started to speed up, not doing circles any more but rubbing harder.

"One finger, love, get one finger in" your middle finger slid from your folds getting to your entrance, and this time when your finger thrust inside a loud and embarrassing moan left your mouth.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty" Jun was having view of his life, if he could, he would burn this memory to look at it every time he wanted to whack off.

"Get another finger inside" your ring finger slipped easily making your hips stumble, "Go in and out, seek for your pleasure, make yourself feel good" your body jerked toward you hand fingers going in and out at a violent pace, a delectable burn making your gummy walls clench tightly on your fingers.

"J-Jun" your voice came out in a pornographic moan of his name, making him smile knowing what you wanted.

"What is it, doll?" he cooed watching your fingers jamming in and out, the wet noises filling the room

"Do you want something from me?" the condescending tone mask with a sweet and velvety trill, made you whine making your hand move faster, your palm colliding with you clit deliciously.

"J-jun, touch me, pleh- please, need you"you said, stuttering, the last bit of consciousness leaving your body.

The man didn't need to be asked twice, he was hovering over you, hand in each side of your head, looking into your eyes, finding a sparkle of desire mixed with excitement. His left hand stroking one of you many loose hairs behind your ear, meanwhile his unoccupied hand joined your own down your cunt.

His hand was hot, and you could feel the calloused skin over the back of your hand, making you wonder, how would it feel on your clit.

Jun stopped your hand —witch now had gotten into a sloppy pace because your fingers were starting to cramp—, and brought your whacked fingers to his mouth, he sucked the arousal in them, making you moan at the feeling of his hot tongue playing with your digits, leaving them fully "cleaned".

"So sweet" he says, getting your fingers out of his mouth, cunt pulsating and drooling with your slick even more. His voice sounded hoarse and guttural, it was evident in his tone that he wanted more, so much more.

He decided to strip you from the last piece of clothing you had, his shirt now was being used to keep both you hands over your head, he bit his lower lip looking how your body was at his disposal, your wreck expression, drunk in pleasure, desperate to release the coil that has been building up in your tummy since he set a foot in the room.

You watch him thrilled, going down on you, now feeling his hot breath against your puffy and glistened folds, awaiting for what was about to happen.

His tongue nuzzled into your hardened clit, a whiny plea escaping your lips, giving him a green flag to do as he pleased, this time sucking gently the sensitive dot making you scream.

If you knew that getting head from Jun would feel like heaven you would have tried to ask him to teach you before.

Your fingers grabbed his brunette and fluffy locks, pulling his strands of hair every time he would nimble carefully on your clit.

He was drinking from your pussy like a starved man, enjoying every bit of your arousal in his mouth. His pointer and ring fingers slipped easily inside of you, an extremely lewd sound coming out of your mouth and the pleasurable sting of his much thicker fingers inside of you made you self conscious, the coil that has been forming in your tummy about to burst, making you feel somehow "weird", it was an urge to relief that scared you.

“J-Jun, Junnie stop, wa- i need to—go t- bathroom” you said, stuttering, pulling his hair, trying to get him to stop sucking at your clit, deed that was making you feel that way even more.

He lifted his face, chin soaked in your juices, lips red and glossy, the view making you want a kiss, but other than that his expression was one from someone who just heard a joke.

With his unoccupied hand he wiped his mouth, and proceeded to hover over you, his right hand still jamming into you at a brutal pace, making the wet noises fill the room with your loud whimpers.

"You sure you want me to stop?" He asked while his thumb started to press and move over the perk bud.

You were amused, you just said that you were about to pee, you felt like you were about to pee, and that was extremely embarrassing, that was the last thing you wanted to do infront of him, or in this case, the last thing you wanted to do in his hand.

And like he could read your mind he said "You are not going to pee, you are about to cum" he licked his lips and watched your with a burning need "just cum for me, doll, cum all you want in my fingers"

Your stomach tightened and the coil released when his fingers curled just in the right place, that spongy and special spot. You came wetting his whole hand, squirting on your first time masturbating.

He helped you through your high making sure to not overstimulate you, it was still your first time masturbating. You were left trembling in his arms, astonished for what just happened.

"You don't know how many times I have wanked off by the thought of you coming undone in my fingers" he said breathlessly, looking at the masterpiece he just made of you, pussy coated in your own arousal and his spit, his drench fingers left your core slowly stealing a small moan from you.

"Pussy so tight, I could cum only by sticking my cock inside of you" his face was so close to you that his lips were brushing yours, his breath felt so hot it was burning you "I want to fuck you so bad, right now" the neediness in his voice made you clench around noting, you core starting to leak again.

"Why don't you teach me?" you said so low he almost didn't hear you.

"What do you want me to teach you now?" He said with a cocky smile on his pretty face.

"Teach me how to fuck"

287 notes · View notes

simply-hyacinth · 2 years

Note

You write L so wonderfully and so in character. I had a request if they’re still open: Could I request Reader (any gender) giving L his first kiss, teaching him how to kiss in the process, and L discovering that he really enjoys the sensation of kissing? I headcanon L as so mentally devoted to his work that his physical form has kind of taken a backseat, and so something like a kiss or touch from the right person can ignite in him a new understanding of himself. Thanks for reading! 💖

So, I was gonna answer this later because I have a truly astounding amount of homework to get done, but how could I keep you waiting? Anyways, I tried my best to adhere to your request, and I'm so sorry if it's disappointing, I've never really done this before. Please let me know if you want anything else written or rewritten, or literally anything. Your wish is my command. Also, thank you so much for your kind words! I am trying to write him as realistically as possible because I saw too much ooc L, and so I'm doing my best.

“Cake?” You asked, setting it down in front of him gently so as to not disturb his setup.

“Thank you.” He responded. His eyes never left the screen as he picked up the fork and began to eat.

He had arrived at your apartment last night and in typical L fashion, had given you little notice before knocking on your door with a briefcase of files and papers. He had turned your living room into a crime scene, and as far as you knew, hadn’t slept a wink since he had gotten here.

You didn’t want to ask him any questions or bother him, despite how incredibly curious you were, but you did want to be sure he wasn’t wasting away under your watch. If that meant feeding him desserts every hour to ensure that something was being consumed, then so be it.

“Cake for dinner,” You said softly to the air, shaking your head as you served yourself a slice. “I’m living my childhood dreams.”

Taking a seat next to L, you very carefully pulled a blanket up to your lap. You watched him cautiously, worried that your movements might distract him.

“You are not bothering me.” He said abruptly.

You froze “Are you sure? I can just go to my room if - “

“No, I quite enjoy your presence.” He turned to you. “And if anything, I should be the one worried about bothering you. I have completely taken over your living room with my research.”

In furious denial, you responded, “No not at all! I love having papers about - “ You pick up a paper and skim the first sentence. “ - mass murders…on my couch…”

L let out a soft chuckle, to which you gave him a smile in return. “I should be thankful that you have not yet tired of my existence.”

“How could I ever? You’re my best customer.” You gestured to the state of your messy kitchen - a result of all the baking and cooking you had done for him since he had arrived.

He responded with a little laugh, and turned back to his screen. You admired how much he devoted himself to his work, however it worried you nonstop to see how it ate away at him, both mentally and physically.

You didn’t pretend to understand what he did. As far as you could tell, he was a spy or detective of sorts. He never confirmed or denied your guesses, but there were certain aspects of his routine that allowed you to infer what you could.

What you were sure of, however, was that the only time he was ever able to properly relax was when he was around you. Which only made it that much more saddening that he was so immersed in his research at this moment in time.

But you said nothing. It was never your place to interfere or say anything. That was how the two of you worked.

You picked up your book from the table in front of you and began to read. It was nice, being near him and the two of you being allowed to do your respective things. In fact, the book you were reading was one he had suggested for you after you told him it had been a while since you found a good book.

So far, you were quite happy with the recommendation.

After a couple of hours of just being next to each other and occasionally exchanging words, you began to doze off. The book slipped out of your hands and your head dropped onto L’s shoulder.

For the first time in hours, he was completely taken out of his work mindset. The weight of your body slumped against his was so warm. He knew it probably would be best to let you sleep, but how was he meant to get any work done if you were right against him?

Lucky for him, you started to stir, yawning as you awoke from your brief nap. “You’re here?”

“I’ve been here since yesterday.” He replied quietly.

You quickly noticed how much of his personal space you had accidentally invaded and shot straight up. “Shit, I didn’t mean to - “

L reached over and took your hand. It was a bit of an awkward grab, but you understood he meant it to be comforting. “You do not bother me.” His words were firm.

“Right,” You breathed out, unknowingly lacing your fingers with his. “I forgot.”

“You also seemed to forget that I was here,” He noted. “You were surprised.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation. “I think…I’m not used to you being so present next to me. It was a bit shocking to wake up practically sleeping on you.”

He was silent for a moment, and then, “Elaborate. On the part about me being present.”

“It’s not a matter of you being physically absent, but I mean you’re always so absorbed in your work that it’s like you forget I’m here or even where and who you are. Mentally, you are on another planet almost ninety percent of the time.” You explain, embarrassed.

This seemed to bother him. You noticed the way his grip on your hand loosened and his shoulders deflated even more.

“I never meant to make you feel that way.”

Your heart broke at how defeated he sounded. “Not at all! I just want you to be aware that you’re allowed to relax around me. You’re under no obligations here.”

He nodded. “Then you should also know that I don’t mind you being close to me.” He looked down at where your hands were still intertwined. “I’ve come to enjoy being in contact with you.”

You laughed lightly, relieved. “Thank goodness. I could kiss you right now, you know?”

“You could.” He confirmed quickly. “It would certainly be an experience I’ve never had before.”

To that, your laughter stops. “Never? You’ve never been kissed before?”

“I think I, of all people, would know if I had been.” He said dryly.

“Would you want me to kiss you?” You asked him, your words hushed and curious.

He pondered it for a moment. “I would want you to, of course. I have no expectations on whether or not I will enjoy it, as I have no previous experience to form them from. However, based off of what the vast majority of the population would - “

You decided you had enough of his talking and leaned forward, pressing your lips against his and using your free hand to hold his face gently as you did.

By kissing standards, it was not perfect. It was soft and awkward, but to you it was pure bliss. And as you pulled away and saw the gratified look in his eyes, it was fairly evident he felt similarly.

“How was that?” You asked teasingly.

“I’m not sure,” He replied. “I think you should do it again, for me to provide you with a satisfactory answer.”

You let out a laugh and leaned against him. “To be entirely honest with you, I haven’t kissed many people before.”

“In comparison to them, how did I do?”

“Well, that was just a basic kiss.” You explained. “If you really want to be memorable, you should try a little harder.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “And how should I do that?”

You gave him a sly smile and moved until his back was pressed against the couch cushions and you were positioned slightly above him, your legs on either side of his lap.

“Just open your mouth…” And like the obedient boyfriend he was, he did. “...lean forward…” Your lips met his again and you pulled him in closer; so close that you could feel his heart pounding against your chest.

The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, and for someone who claimed to have never been kissed before, he was oddly passionate.

Breathless, you pulled away and beamed at him. “I would say that was pretty good. You?”

“If I wished to rank it, I would have to kiss other people to properly make a comparison.” You met his eyes, a teasing spark illuminated within them.

You scrunched up your nose. “Don’t joke. You are horribly unfunny.”

“Your lies do not concern me.” He placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose, much to your surprise.

“It appears you like being kissed then?”

“If it’s by you, then yes.” He sighed, a mixture of content and sadness. “I apologize for making you feel so unwanted around me while I work. I truly appreciate your presence and your efforts to distract me.”

You nodded acceptingly. “Well, do they at least work?”

L smiled. “They do.”

With a little exhale of relief, you rested your body against his and closed your eyes. “Anyways, you’re pretty good at that whole kissing thing. Maybe we can make it a habit.”

He squeezed your hand lightly. “I would like that.”

Because there was something so satisfying about kissing you, or even touching you, that made him only crave it more. L, whose mind was forever restless, had come to a complete halt the moment your lips had touched his.

It appeared that the only tried and true thing that could ever relax him and bring him out of an overworked state of mind, was being with you.

It was selfish. So incredibly selfish of him. To be with you, knowing the dangers, knowing the consequences, all because it made him feel good.

But he couldn’t help it. Not if it meant the possibility of kissing you again. And so he solidified this resolve in his mind that he wanted you, and only ever you. He knew there could be nothing good to come of this in the long run, but for now, you were both content in each other’s company.

L never stopped thinking about this moment. It might have been one of the only ones where he could truly say he was happy.

#simplyhyacinth #l death note #deathnote #deathnote x reader #deathnote fanfiction #l x reader #lawliet x reader #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet x you #l x you

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year

Note

Hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request a Jason Todd x Male reader who is a total bad ass, but finally gets the courage to show Jason. Reader teases Jason with a little belly dancing show, which may have made the night very hot and steamy? (Reader bottom)

I will. I have never really seen belly dancing, so let me know if I wrote it well. I did my research, but you never know.

Summary: (Y/N) finally gets the courage to show Jason that he was a badass. And then decides to tease him with belly dancing. Jason won't have that.

Warnings: (Y/N) know how to fight, (Y/N) teasing, SMUT, bottom reader, top Jason, praise kink, blowjobs, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, nipple play, maybe rough sex, aftercare, possessive Jason. Maybe more, I don't at this point. I tried.

Jason followed (Y/N) through the aisles of the little shop. It was 11 PM and they both couldn't sleep. (Y/N) was also craving ice cream. Jason couldn't say no to his boyfriend. At all.

" Jason, you want anything? " (Y/N) asked, taking the tube of his favorite ice cream out of the freezer.

" Not really. "

" Are you craving anything? "

Jason thought about it.

" How about a craft mac n' cheese? "

" Ooh, I didn't eat that in a long time. Come on. "

Jason followed once more, looking at his boyfriend. He was wearing Jason's shirt and his favorite leather jacket. Jason felt something possessive crawl from within him. He watched (Y/N) converse with the owner. (Y/N) knew the owner very well, he came here a lot if he needed something small, instead going to the big store like Target or Walmart.

" You have your pack? " (Y/N) asked Jason, knowing that he occasionally liked to smoke.

" I have 2 more, don't worry. "

" Okay. Thank you. " (Y/N) thanked the owner.

Then he took Jason's hand and walked out of the store.

" You know, I'm glad you took a night of off patrol. "

Jason nodded and put his arm around (Y/N)'s shoulders. (Y/N) leaned into Jason's embrace. He enjoyed this types of nights. Calm, Jason being home with him...

" Well, well, look here. " Jason and (Y/N) separated when they saw a group of four. They didn't even had to ask. (Y/N) sighed as he gave Jason the bag.

" Hold this. "

Jason was confused beyond belief. Is (Y/N) going to fight them? His question was answered when (Y/N) threw a punch. He stood there in complete shock. His jaw dropped. Since when did (Y/N) know how to fight? Jason knew that he didn't teach him anything about fighting. So who did?

" Close your mouth Jason, you might catch flies. " (Y/N) laughed as he closed Jason's mouth.

" Since when do you know how to fight like this? " Jason asked as they started walking back to the building.

" I have always known how to. Gotham is my blood and every Gothamite in one way or another knows how to fight. "

" That is true. But you still surprised me. How come you didn't tell me? "

(Y/N) just leaned into Jason's side and Jason wrapped his arm around (Y/N)'s waist.

" I was insecure. You and your brothers know how to fight so well and then you have me. "

" Sweetheart, I wouldn't have cared even if you didn't know how to fight. I can give you some pointers later. If you want of course. "

" Maybe. "

Jason nodded, giving (Y/N) a kiss on the cheek.

" How did I land you? " Jason asked.

" I should be asking myself that. "

Jason gave him a slight nudge, smirking at the hey he received in return.

" I'm serious. I'm the lucky one. "

(Y/N) huffed as he unlocked the apartment door and then locked them when they were both inside.

" So, I wanted to give you this surprise later, however, I can't wait for tomorrow. So, sit down on the couch and wait. "

" Can I eat the ice cream? "

" I wouldn't recommend it. "

Jason nodded after he sat down. (Y/N) went to the bedroom, locking the door. Okay. Time to do this. This is either going to be the best thing he has ever done or the worst thing ever.

Jason was getting impatient. What was (Y/N) going to show him? He looked at the door when he heard them opening. It was a good thing he was sitting down. A very good thing. (Y/N) came out in what Jason could only describe as harem pants. They were black and see-through and Jason could see his boxers. He was also wearing a black west. (Y/N) was shy as he saw Jason watching him hungerly. He looked like he wanted to eat him.

" Do you like it? "

" (Y/N), I don't think you realize the amount of self control that it's taking me- No, don't think about it. You look gorgeous. "

" Well, I wanted to find a hip scarf, but there wasn't any. "

Jason wasn't even listening. He was far too gone. Far too gone to focus on anything besides (Y/N)'s smooth skin on display. (Y/N) turned on the music over his phone and started dancing. Jason watched with so much interest. The way (Y/N) moved his hips, his stomach... And the positioning of his arms... Jason was close to loosing it.

(Y/N)'s movements were following the music and Jason was going to find out more about belly dancing. (Y/N) moved closer to Jason, before moving away, still moving his hips and stomach. Jason was not going to last long.

When the music ended, Jason took (Y/N) into his arms and quickly moved into the bedroom. He threw (Y/N) down on the bed and then spread (Y/N)'s legs apart and the he started kissing him like a mad man. His lips moved down to (Y/N)'s neck, kissing and nipping.

" You don't realize what you do to me, do you? " Jason said against (Y/N)'s neck, making sure to leave hickeys in his path. He quickly took off his shirt and then he removed (Y/N)'s vest. He moved to bite at (Y/N)'s shoulders. (Y/N) was moaning beneath Jason, squirming from the pleasure.

Jason started moving downward to his nipples. He took the right on in his mouth. He knew how sensitive they are. (Y/N) was whining, back arching.

" So gorgeous... " Jason mumbled as he continued his way down towards the hem of the pants. He took them off, being careful. They would need to be used later.

He started kissing the inside of (Y/N)'s thighs. He was mumbling gorgeous and mine. He marked (Y/N)'s thighs with bites. (Y/N) was going insane from the bites. That was the possessive Jason, as (Y/N) had labeled him once.

Jason made his way back up to (Y/N)'s mouth, kissing him with so much passion. He really loved this guy. (Y/N) wrapped his arms around Jason's shoulders, bringing him closer. After a while they moved away, completely out of breath.

" I love you Jason. "

" I love you too. " Jason said, removing his pants.

His hands moved down to (Y/N)'s boxers. They were quickly removed and Jason let out a shudder. (Y/N) looked like a master piece. Jason smiled at the marks he left. Some were going to be difficult to hide.

" What are you looking at? " (Y/N) asked, blushing.

" You. " Then he moved between (Y/N)'s legs and took (Y/N)'s length into his mouth. (Y/N) moaned, reaching for Jason's hair. Jason moaned when he felt the pull. (Y/N) was getting closer and closer. Jason bobbed his head up and down, making sure to bring (Y/N) over the edge.

(Y/N)'s hips were moving up, trying to get into his mouth more. Jason pushed his hips down and licked over the slit. (Y/N) moans were getting breathier and high pitched and Jason knew in just a few moments (Y/N) was going to come. And he was right.

(Y/N) came and Jason swallowed it all. (Y/N) thighs were shaking and he had to catch his breath. He was boneless.

" You okay? " Jason asked, moving to get the lube from the nightstand.

" Yeah... "

" Good. Because we are nowhere near done. "

(Y/N) took a deep breath as he felt Jason's lube coated fingers penetrating his hole. There was the burn, but Jason's fingers brushed against his prostate. (Y/N) moaned and moved his hips down to grind on Jason's fingers. He wanted more.

" Patience my boy. Patience. " Jason said, putting a second finger.

" Easy for you to say. "

Jason chuckled as he started scissoring him. (Y/N)'s was hard again once more. And way more sensitive then before.

" I'm ready Jason, just hurry. "

Jason took his fingers out and took his boxers off. He coated his length in lube before pushing in. He was inside of (Y/N) in one swift push. He put his elbows next to (Y/N)'s head. He waited for (Y/N) to give him a go ahead.

(Y/N) moved his hips, moaning at the feeling of being full.

" Come on Jay..."

Jason nodded and slowly started moving.

" More Jay. " (Y/N) whined, bringing him into a kiss.

Jason complied, moving quicker. His pace was now brutal and quick. He was grunting while (Y/N) was moaning. (Y/N) reached down, but Jason didn't want that. He took (Y/N)'s hands and intertwined his hands with (Y/N)'s.

" You are going to come untouched. "

(Y/N) moaned. He didn't think he can do it.

" Jay, I don't think- "

" I know you can. "

Jason was praising (Y/N), knowing it wasn't easy for (Y/N). He was always sensitive after an orgasm. He gave (Y/N) soft kisses around his face.

" Jay, I'm close- Oh! "

Jason felt the tight squeeze of (Y/N)'s ass and with a few more he came too. He could barley move.

" (Y/N), babe, can you hear me? " Jason asked.

(Y/N) nodded in return, taking deep breath. Jason watched as tried to come from his high.

" Okay. Let me clean you up, okay? "

(Y/N) nodded, shuddering when he felt Jason pull out. He closed his eyes and listened to Jason. He was in the bathroom and he could hear water going. Jason stepped out of the bathroom with a wet rag. The coldness of the rag felt great against his body.

" Are you in any pain? " Jason asked, giving (Y/N) kisses on his face.

" No. I just want cuddles. "

" You will get cuddles, I need to clean you up first. "

(Y/N) pouted and Jason laughed. After a quick kiss, Jason went to the bathroom to throw the rag and then he put boxers on both of them. (Y/N) hated sleeping naked and Jason simply couldn't.

Then he got under the covers, covering both of them. He brought (Y/N) closer, making sure to give (Y/N) a kiss.

" Thanks Jay. "

" Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum. "

(Y/N) snuggled closer to Jason and he nuzzled his nose in the junction of Jason's neck.

" And also, whatever you need for belly dancing, I will buy it for you. "

(Y/N) laughed at that, nodding in return. He will use it. Jason wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

" Love you. " (Y/N) said before falling asleep.

" Love you too. "

#jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut

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joelswritingmistress · 5 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 22

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

I had gotten through Dr. Stevenson’s class with flickering eyes in the dim lighting. Knowing that Dr. Miller was right next door teaching his other course had me thinking about him.

Was he making people laugh? What material was he teaching? And the question I tried not to let creep into my jealous, little mind - is he attracted to anyone in that class? I don't know why I did that to myself, but I couldn't help my inner baseless insecurities. Still, I didn't let it consume me. I was the one who had a key to his house. I was the one who was attending his sister’s wedding in a few weeks. I was the one sleeping beside him on a nightly basis.

Be cool, I told myself. Our romance was too hot and steamy for me to attempt, or even pretend, to be cool.

When I wandered out into the hallway in the crowd of other students, I glanced down toward the closed door near the end of the hall and smiled to myself. I then whipped out my phone to find text messages from both Dr. Miller and James - who had been walking me to my car regularly on Wednesday nights.

Before clicking on Dr. Miller’s, I expected his typical racy text that made the extra hour without him feel ten times as long. I smiled to myself when it read: Please be careful. Let me know when you get home. I still don't trust the campus security.

I had to admit I enjoyed Dr. Miller’s healthy dose of jealousy towards James. It made me feel less guilty for having my own insecure thoughts. I guess it was just human nature, to some degree.

I wrote him back, promising I would text him when I arrived at my car and then again at home. I added a heart emoji and hit send before moving on to James’s text, which let me know he’d see me in the parking lot. A part of me felt just a bit needy for asking him to come by every Wednesday at this time; but I knew Dr. Miller’s concerns for my safety wouldn't allow for me to be alone after dark on campus - even for just a minute or two. I didn’t particularly think I needed James, but I know, despite his distaste for another male to come to my aid, it made Dr. Miller feel better. That was enough for me.

Gotta pee, long ride home! I texted back to James, adding, See ya in a second. Thanks!!

I stuffed my phone back into my bag and wandered into the women's bathroom in a nook by the elevators.

When I hung my bag and sat in the stall, my phone buzzed again. Tori.

Her text came through: Hey, thanks for the two months in advance. You didn’t have to! Btw, I have a huge question. Nothing bad. Call when you can.

Big question? What could it be? And I certainly didn’t pay two months in advance.

Dr. Miller. It had to be him.

I quickly tapped her name and hit the little phone icon and put the receiver up to my ear.

“Hey!” My friend answered in a cheery voice, “Didn’t think you’d call back so quickly!”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Ahh…” She breathed the word and I knew she was hesitant to ask whatever it was she was about to. “So.. um.. Derek.”

I smiled to myself, thinking I had an inclination of what this was about. And I actually thought it would solve a few of my inner monologue issues, especially since Dr. Miller insisted on having me at his place every night.

“You want him to move in,” I speculated. It caused a long pause on the other end and I finally asked, “Tori?” Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they broke up. Maybe-

“Yeah. I feel like a dirtbag for asking-”

“Why?” I practically shouted, and then put a hand over my mouth with a little laugh when I heard the door open to the restroom.

“Because it’s our place and I know adding a dude to the mix could make it awkward.”

“Well.. honestly.. Dr.-” I caught myself and stopped for a second.

“Doctor?”

“I.. well.. Hmm..” I reset. “Joel gave me a key to his place.”

“What!?” Tori exclaimed.

“I know I've been staying there a lot,” I went on.

“(Y/N) it's totally okay.” She laughed. “So, is he like your hot sugar daddy?”

I laughed again and glanced to the side when I heard someone shuffling around. “No. I am falling for him pretty hard though.” And then I added, “I think it's great if Derek moves in.”

“Really?” Tori squeaked.

“Really.”

“I feel like we haven't seen each other. We need to meet up this week and really talk.”

“Definitely. How about Friday after work?”

“Yes!”

“Okay. Congrats on Derek.”

“Congrats on your hot old man.”

I laughed. “Alright. I'll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

The door handle turned and I cleared my throat. “Oh, someone’s in here.” A knock followed. “Be right out.”

I got myself together and felt the muscles in my stomach tense when there was another, louder knock. This time I didn’t answer right away. And then came a loud bang that caused me to jump back a few inches. I almost shrieked but I held it in.

“I’ll be right out!” I shouted now, beginning to use my phone. When the door handle twisted again, I used the best verbal defense I could think of. “I’m calling campus security!”

The pounding stopped. The door handle twisting stopped. I breathed heavily a few times and swallowed hard as I heard the faintest sound of footsteps. As badly as I wanted to peek out of the crack in the door, fear had me pinned against the wall of the bathroom stall.

I heard the creak of the door and then there was silence. I began texting Dr. Miller, though before I hit send I stopped myself. He was teaching a class. I didn’t want to bother him and pull him out of class. Not to mention there was no good reason why, according to the university, I should be phoning my professor.

“Fuck.” I whispered the word to myself. I wanted to call him, but I knew it wouldn’t be a good look. On the same note, I knew when I told him about this later, he’d be pissed that I didn’t call him.

I went with my next best option. James.

Until I heard the door crack open again, and my friend’s familiar voice called hesitantly into the women’s bathroom, I remained behind the locked door - not that someone couldn’t have gotten under the bottom of it if they really wanted to. Still, I wasn’t about to tiptoe out, only to be ambushed.

“(Y/N),” James called, “It’s me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and finally managed to open the door. I quickly washed my hands and then hurried back out into the civilization - which at the moment was only James and I.

“Are you okay?” He asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath and brushed my hair back. “I don’t even know what happened. I was.. I don’t know if someone was just being impatient, or..” My eyes met his, “I don’t know.”

“Did it seem like a threat?”

I shrugged. “They tried opening the door, and I told them I was in there. And then they just kept knocking and pounding at the door and twisting the handle.” I shook my head, “It was probably someone just having a bad day, or.. I don’t know.”

“Let’s make it a formal complaint,” James suggested, but I shook my head.

“No. No, I’m sure it was nothing.”

“You have to,” he insisted, “You can’t be too careful. With everything that’s happened here, it needs to be reported.” James pulled out a small notebook from his shirt pocket.

I scrunched my nose. “Do you have to include my name?”

He shook his head. “I’ll keep that part to myself.” James made a face, “Unless they really need it for some reason.”

“Okay.” I agreed. He took the details of what had happened and then proceeded to walk me the rest of the way to my car, flashing his light in my back seat just before I hopped in.

“Thank you, James.” I gave him a hug. “I appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave a small grin. “Any time you need someone, I’m here. I know you take a few night classes here so just make sure you don’t walk alone.”

“I won’t.”

“Be careful.”

I nodded and began to duck into the driver’s seat.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Yeah?” I glanced up at him as I settled in.

“Do you still live on that dead end street with Tori?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Why?”

James shrugged. “You just said you had a long ride home. I didn’t know if you moved, or if you were staying with your parents or something.”

“Oh.” Shit, I had slipped. “Yeah, tonight I’m actually.. Staying somewhere else.”

“Oh.” His eyebrows rose and fell and it appeared as though he was waiting for an explanation. When I failed to elaborate James cleared his throat. “Well, stay safe.”

“Thanks for helping me out.”

“No problem.”

I waved goodbye and closed the door, locking it as I started it up. Before I put it in drive, Dr. Miller’s text came through, asking if I was on my way home.

How much do I tell him right now?

I hesitated before leaving it at: Pulling out of the parking lot now.

Are you okay to be in that big house alone? He asked.

The thought did freak me out a bit. But I knew it was probably the safest place for me to be. If it wasn’t, Dr. MIller wouldn’t be comfortable sending me off there alone.

I wrote back: If I say no will you hurry home?

I’ll hurry home anyway.

I smiled to myself and began the drive back up the desolate highway into the heart of the Catskills. After weeks of spending the night at Dr. MIller’s mansion, I couldn’t imagine not staying there.

The longer I drove with my music playing, the less I thought of the incident in the bathroom. It was when I finally reached the tall, steel gates surrounded by nothing but woods that my anxiousness grew. I had to physically get out of the car to do the code. That was when all thoughts of the bathroom came rushing back.

Dr. Miller was over a half hour away. He wasn’t here to protect me. What if that was some psycho killer? What if someone was here now? My mind rushed to all the worst case scenarios now that I was forced with the task of getting out of the car to open the gates. It was dark. It was scary - at least without Dr. Miller it was.

“Grow up,” I whispered to myself. I knew if I was going to be living there, or kind of living there, that I would have to do this.

I opened the door and hugged my body, glancing around at the swaying trees all around me. Snow still sat in patches around the area from the small storms and the pavement was dark and damp.

2003. It was four numbers, and then I could get back in the car, drive up, get comfortable and wait for my knight in shining armor.

I left the car door open and clutched my keys as I slowly paced the uphill pathway toward the key pad. A whistle from the wind made me whip around in all directions and I had to catch my breath and remind myself that I was fine. It was just the desolate surroundings and the murders on campus that had me jumpy.

Very valid reasons, I reminded myself.

I reached for the keypad and punched in 2-0 as a set of headlights rolled up the drive, illuminating trees off to the left as it rounded a bend before was in the crosshairs of the beams.

That was the last straw. I didn't know whether to keep typing or run back to my car. I did neither. I froze.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @jiminstinypinky @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

Text

Be Professional or Tell the Truth

Requested Here!

Pairing: TO!Jim Street x rookie!fem!reader

Summary: You and your TO Jim Street have an instant connection but decide to keep things professional. When you're both injured by bikers, you decide to tell the truth instead.

Warnings: kinda TO/rookie AU, brief angst, mentions of fights and injuries, fluff, life advice from Deacon

Word Count: 3.1k+ words

“Officer Jim Street.”

You fight the urge to look over your shoulder at him. Every rookie has heard Jim Street’s name, though you have no idea what to expect with him as your training officer. When you are dismissed to begin your training, to go on patrol for the first time, you take a deep breath before approaching him.

“Officer Street,” you say softly before offering your name and hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he replies. “And I know what you want to ask, so go ahead.”

“Guilty. Who presses your uniform? Because those are the sharpest creases I’ve ever seen.”

You know what he expected; it’s the question every rookie has: ‘Why be a TO when you could have been S.W.A.T.?’ When Street smiles at your reply, you know it will be a long few months with him. You already feel a unique connection to Street, and the fact that he’s talking to you like a friend rather than a rookie makes you think he feels it, too.

Street tilts his head, gesturing for you to follow him. You walk past a small group of officers and assume they’re S.W.A.T. by how intently they watch Street. Unknown to you, they can also see something between you and Jim Street.

“I will never understand his decision,” Tan says while he watches Street pat your shoulder. “I can see it’ll work out as usual, though.”

“You know what they say, Tan: those who can’t do, teach,” Hondo teases. “What you see, Deac?”

Deacon shrugs. He sees something he recognizes in how Street looks at you because he looks at Annie and his kids like that. “He’s not just her TO.”

“Meaning?” Hondo inquires.

“You’ll understand… someday.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’s a code 3?” Street asks as you drive through downtown Los Angeles.

“Emergency, proceed with lights and sirens,” you answer. “Code 2 is urgent but not necessarily lights and sirens.”

Street nods. He has been quizzing you about police radio and penal codes all morning to ensure you know the basics. Your first day goes well, and with Jim Street as your TO, you don’t understand how anyone could quit because of their training officer. Maybe he’s just one of the good ones.

“End of shift,” Street announces at the end of the day. “You did well.”

“Thank you, sir. Can I- can I ask the obvious question?”

“Sure,” he replies with a smile.

“I’ve heard, like everyone else, that you were handpicked for a S.W.A.T. team. Why teach when you could breach?”

You smile at your unintentional rhyme and unconsciously lean closer to Street as he answers.

“I tried. That’s the part that most people don’t know, is that I did join the team and I tried. Wasn’t cut out for it, yet, I suppose. I had some growing up to do.”

“And what better way to grow up than to walk rookies through it? Have someone you can yell at while growing up together, right?”

“You know, most rookies are scared of their TOs and wouldn’t talk to them like this,” Street points out. His smile tells you that he doesn’t mind, though.

“My apologies, sir. I promise to be nothing but professional moving forward. If you answer one more question.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m not supposed to remove my firearm from the holster unless I intend to.”

Street rubs the skin between his eyes as he sighs your name.

“Sorry, sir. In all seriousness, do you think you’d ever go back to S.W.A.T.? After you grow up and are cut out for it. I think you already are, but you know yourself better than I do, of course.”

“Maybe,” Street answers. “But I’ve got to get you through the hardest months of your career first. We’ll see how I feel once you’re in short sleeves.”

“When you talk about me wearing less clothing, it’s a bit hard to remain professional, sir,” you tease.

“Get out of the car.”

You laugh as you obey his demand, and he’s shaking his head in amusement. Immediately, you know that you and Street will both end up where you want to be in the department; you’re worried that you won’t be able to remain professional for that long. Whatever you felt for Street this morning has been multiplied by a hundred after a few hours in a police cruiser with him, so you have your work cut out for you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Streeter!” Luca yells. “We’re going out for pizza, want to come?”

“Sure,” Street agrees.

“Want to invite your rookie?” Hondo asks.

“No, dinner together is not very professional.”

“That’s the route you’re taking. Professionalism?” Deacon says with a knowing look.

“What does that mean?”

Street and Deacon begin walking together, following the rest of 20-David to the parking lot.

“It means that you’re doomed. You can be professional or tell the truth, but those don’t coexist in your situation.”

“So, by doing my job well I’m lying?”

“To yourself at least.”

“Thanks for the life advice, Deac, but I think I can figure this out.”

“Sure, you can, kid.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Deac. I can’t believe you make Annie deal with this.”

“Mmhmm,” Deacon replies. “And I’m sure you were nothing but serious alone in that car all day. If I requested to review the cam footage, I wouldn’t see a hint of flirtation, right?”

“Deacon, nothing is going to happen. We’re both just working toward the career we want, okay?”

“Okay. I understand not wanting someone else in your business, but if you decide you do want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The next few weeks working with Street are busy and covered with faux professionalism. Your interactions are nearly scripted with how much you think before speaking. Talking about work, being quizzed by Street, and talking about your personal life under no circumstances is the only way to remain professional. You have dozens of questions you’d like to ask, but your connection is surviving somewhere under your TO/rookie relationship. If you want to have a future of being friends, or more, with Street in the future, you have to look at him as your TO and nothing more.

“415g, multiple 417s, 664 and possible 187 near your location,” dispatch radios.

“10-4, responding,” Street replies. He turns toward you to ask, “Codes?”

After flipping the switches for the lights and sirens, you answer, “415g, gang disturbance, 417s are people with firearms, 664 attempted murder and, uh, possible 187… possible homicide.”

“What question could you ask?”

“Gang disturbance,” you realize. “Is it a known gang?”

Street looks at the report and nods to himself. “Biker gang,” he reads. “In a known biker bar.”

“What’s our approach?”

“You tell me.”

You think for a moment before asking, “Limited entry? We could check out the situation and back out if we need to wait for backup.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Street calls for backup anyway, but you pull up beside the bar a moment later. You fall into line behind Street, holding your service weapon beside your hip, and he walks into the bar's front door.

“LAPD!” he yells.

Even standing beside him, you can barely hear Street over the noise of the brawl. At least ten bikers are fighting in the middle of the barroom floor. Table and chairs are scattered, and glass bottles and mugs are shattered on nearly every surface.

“LAPD!” Street tries again.

“Do something, man! They’re gonna kill ‘im!” one of the men at the side of the bar yells.

“Who, sir?” you ask.

“My brother’s in there!”

Street holsters his weapons quickly and removes his belt before passing it to you. You know he has a soft spot, an inherent need to protect people, but he doesn’t stand a chance against these bikers.

“Street, don’t! Just wait for our backup!” you implore.

“They’re two minutes out and we don’t have time. Just stay back, no matter what,” Street replies.

You watch, helpless, as Street pulls one of the guys back and is immediately pulled into the fight. When a man is pushed out of the circle, you rush to him and pull him back farther.

“Dude!” the man from the bar calls. “I thought you were a goner.”

“I feel like I am,” he groans.

“Help is on the way, sir,” you promise.

As you turn back to find Street, you can see him on the floor and rush toward the biker closest to you. Sirens sound outside before you can do anything to help, so you run outside and direct the responding officers into the bar. After you pull one of the bikers off balance, you push into the circle and kneel beside Street.

“I told you to stay back,” he says.

Street has been thoroughly beaten up, and his nose and lip are bloody as he speaks. You’ve been worried about him since he laid a hand on the first biker, but now that you see how bad it is, your worry spikes.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” you say.

“I’m fine,” Street insists as he struggles to sit up.

You place a hand on Street’s upper back and help him move. Once he's upright, you see a gash across his cheekbone, likely from a ring. Pulling the bottom of your sleeve over your wrist, you gently press the fabric against Street’s face.

“I said I’m fine,” Street grumbles.

“Just- just let me help,” you argue softly. “It’s bleeding a lot. If you want to be a brave guy and refuse the hospital, fine, but don’t bleed out from a completely avoidable head wound.”

Street can hear your worry in your rambling and lets you help rather than argue with you. He knows what it is like to be worried about someone, and though he doesn’t need it, he appreciates your concern.

“Thanks,” he says when you pull your sleeve back to look at his face. “But you’re going to have to change out of that biohazard now.”

You huff, concerned by his other injuries. “Stop trying to get my shirt off,” you whisper.

You accept a cloth from a passing paramedic and wipe the dried blood from Street’s skin. When your gaze drops, your eyes widen. Street’s knuckles are busted open, which you expected, but a deep red mark surrounds one of his forearms.

“What happened there?” you ask.

When his brows furrow, you point to it with your chin.

“One of them grabbed me, I guess,” he mumbles. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Because you’re still on an adrenaline high. Let a paramedic look, or…”

“Or what?” Street asks, smiling up at you.

“I’ll- I don’t know, I’ll stop being professional.”

“That doesn’t sound like a threat,” Street murmurs, but he calls for a paramedic anyway.

“Officer Street,” you begin. You have to fill him in on the severity of the situation. “There’s three dead bodies in the back room. It seems like a rival biker gang came in and killed them but finding them is what started this fight.”

“Then we need to find the rival gang, the killers,” Street adds as he uses his uninjured hand to push himself up.

“Street, be careful!”

“I’m fine. Hey, look at me,” Street demands. “I’m okay. I appreciate the concern, but those dead bikers back there need it more. Let’s work for them, and then we’ll worry about us.”

You nod slowly. A paramedic wraps Street’s arm before you leave. He is clearly in pain, and it gets worse as his adrenaline drops. You try to focus on finding the other bikers, but you are still concerned about Street.

“Why did you jump in?” you ask once you’re back in the car.

“Do you want the truth or the acceptable cop’s duty answer?”

“The truth.”

“I had a brother. And we fought for each other constantly. So, when that guy said his brother was in there, it was like my brother was in there.”

You nod and fall silent. Returning to your previous professionalism covers your worries, but your continued glances at Street are not hidden. He stops caring, too touched by your concern to insist he is okay again.

“Street,” you say before pointing to a group of bikers sitting in a dark alley.

After rolling the window down slightly, you can hear them yelling about something. Street radios for backup while you watch the group. When one of them steps back, you see a gun tucked into his waistband.

“One of them has a gun,” you tell Street without turning around. “I have an idea.”

“No,” Street answers.

“You didn’t even let me-“

“Does it involve you going over there alone?”

“Maybe.”

“Then no.”

You wait for Street to return his attention to the mobile computer on the dash to pull your belt off. When you begin unbuttoning your long-sleeved shirt, Street turns toward you quickly.

“What are you doing?” Street demands.

“I’m getting answers. We need to know if these are our killers, and I think I can do that.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“You look like a cop.”

“I look like your superior, and I’m saying no.”

“Street, please.”

Street’s jaw clenches, and he looks over at the bikers before sighing.

“You have two minutes and then I’m coming over there for you,” he says.

“Deal. But a full two minutes, Street.”

You exit the car and cross in front of the alley twice before turning into it.

“Hi,” you call. “Sorry. I’m lost. There’s a bar that one of my friends invited me to and I was just wondering if you could help me find it.”

The man with the gun turns toward you and smiles as he looks you up and down.

“Sure, baby. What’s the bar? I can even give you a ride if you’d like to arrive in style,” he replies.

The other bikers laugh at his comment, and you giggle nervously. You say the name of the bar where you found the other bikers this morning and watch them look at one another.

“Girl like you don’t need to go to a bar like that,” the man says as he steps toward you. “Why do you wanna go there?”

“I just got invited. My friend has a boyfriend nicknamed Bear Warden and he invited us.”

At the mention of another biker’s name, several of the men step forward. You step back, but the man closest to you grabs your forearm and pulls you toward him. Tripping over his foot, you twist and land on your back.

“I’m sorry,” you begin.

“Ain’t nobody know Bear Warden ‘cept the other bikers, which means you’re either lying or you’re a cop.”

“Do I look like a cop?” you demand.

“You will in a minute,” one of the other men threatens before kicking the side of your leg.

As you pull your arms over your face, they give you a version of the treatment Street got in the bar this morning. Footsteps echo in the alleyway, and you hear Street yell for everyone to freeze before a fist hits the underside of your jaw.

More blue and red lights illuminate the alley, and you stand slowly as a group of police officers approach and begin arresting the bikers. Street runs to your side and lays his hands on your shoulders.

“Your turn to go the hospital,” he says with his voice strained.

“I don’t want to. I’m fine,” you promise. “They didn’t even hit me that hard; probably their act of kindness for the week.”

Street nods as his eyes drop. Your roles have reversed, and now you are receiving Street’s concern. He seems less inclined to remain professional as he fusses over you.

“Then we’re going back to the station and you’re seeing a medic.”

“Street,” you interrupt. “I’m fine. But these guys were just gang members. We need to find the leader before he gets away.”

“He would have put the hit out on the others, more than likely. You sure you feel up to this?”

“Do you?”

“Better than ever. Let’s go solve a case.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you return to the station with the leader of LA’s leading biker gang in custody, you struggle to remain professional. You want to hug Street and thank him for everything he’s done for you today, but you remember what you said in your first week about keeping things professional. You enter the locker room and change in silence before exiting the station. Street is standing at the back of his car, and he calls you over when he sees you.

“Are you okay?” you ask once you’re beside him.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he responds.

“Doing what?”

“Pretending to be professional when we both clearly want more.”

You nod and tug on your fingers. “What do you want to do instead, then? Ignore it?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of dinner.”

“Like a date?”

“Like a date. As long as that’s what you want, too.”

You sigh before saying, “That’s exactly what I want, Officer Street.”

“Right now?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” you reply.

Street offers his hand and helps you into his car. You make quite the couple, you think, sporting matching bruises from a run-in with rival biker gangs and sharing soft touches that avoid said bruises. Street holds your hand as he drives to Santa Monica for dinner; he doesn’t want to go to another restaurant or bar in Los Angeles for a few days and would like to make better memories with you.

“If we’re not pretending to be professional anymore, off the clock at least so we don’t get fired, does that mean I can kiss you after dinner if I want?” you ask as he parks.

“I think maybe we should wait on that,” he replies.

“Take things slow,” you agree with a nod.

“Oh, no, I’d kiss you before dinner, but we both got punched in the face today and I think it would hurt.”

You laugh as every semblance of professionalism is thrown aside as you enjoy a date night with Street. When Street drops you off at the station after dinner to get your car, you promise to kiss him after your next date.

“We’ll take the easy calls to make sure we can,” he agrees as he hugs you.

“You told her the truth,” Deacon says when he walks out of S.W.A.T. HQ.

“What does that mean?” you ask Street.

“That he realized professionalism has no place in a relationship. Not the other way around,” Deacon explains before winking at you and walking away.

“You, me, dinner and a kiss on Friday?” you ask Street.

“As long as you remember that I’m your superior from now until then,” he counters.

“We’ll see.”

#jim street x reader #hanna writes✯#jim street x fem!reader #jim street fluff #jim street #swat cbs #requests #fem!reader #to!jim street

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nichoswag · 11 months

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Are you taking requests? If so can I please get an Euijoo one where he tries teaching you Japanese? He's so gentle and kind and patient. Every time you make a mistake he rubs your hand and shows you again. And when you get it right he rewards you with a kiss. I live for soft Euijoo

incentive . byun euijoo

pairing: bf!ej x gn reader

warnings: coma-inducing fluff, sweet and patient bf ej (i have to include that as a warning), kissing, petnames (baby, like twice)

synopsis: in which euijoo teaches you japanese but you're easily distracted, so he gives you an incentive.

song rec: stuck with u - ariana grande + justin bieber

a/n: i don't think you understand, i literally audibly gasped when i read this request. the idea is way too cute for my brain to handle... also sorry this took a few days, the requests have been piling in! anywaysss, i hope you enjoy!! ♡

"there are a few ways to say 'thank you' in japanese," your boyfriend explains.

this is your third japanese lesson. a few days ago, you had asked euijoo to teach you japanese, so he's been giving you a lesson a day. now, you both sit on the couch, him teaching you and you taking notes.

"the difference in each phrase is how polite they are." he adjusts his glasses on his nose, and you look away from him and at your notes to focus on the lesson rather than his face. "for example, you would say 'arigato' to a friend or someone your age. however, to someone you don't know well or an elder, you should say 'arigato gozaimasu.' did you get that in your notes?"

you remain spaced out, staring at his features for a moment before shaking yourself out of it and nodding. "yeah, i got it."

he grins at you. "it feels like you're paying more attention to me than the words I'm saying."

you smile. "you're very distracting."

he chuckles. "just try to pay attention baby."

you think for a moment. "why not give me some motivation?"

he stares at you, puzzled. "what do you mean?"

"hmm... how about for every question i get right, you give me a kiss? like an incentive."

he chuckles. "you sly fox. you just wanna kiss me." you nod, giggling. he ruffles your hair, continuing on with the lesson.

he launches into the other ways to say "thank you," such as past and present. you remain attentive and continue taking notes. when it comes time for him to quiz you on what you've learned, you are able to answer correctly by looking at your notes. that earns you a few kisses, to your enjoyment.

"you're doing so good, baby," he exclaims, proud. "now, let's try without your notes. let's say your grandmother does something kind for you. how would you thank her?"

"uhh- arigato~?"

"not quite," he says, rubbing your hand he's been holding through the lesson. "that's how you would thank someone your age. to be polite to an elder, you would say 'arigato gozaimasu.'"

"arigato gozaimase," you repeat after him.

"good. the 'z' is more of a soft 's' sound," he explains.

you slump in your chair. "japanese is so hard!"

he smiles at you. "it'll get easier the more you practice. do you want to stop for now and pick up more in a bit?"

you nod. "i wan a hug..."

he chuckles softly. "of course." he places your notebook and pen on the coffee table and pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you.

"thank you for being so patient with me," you say quietly. "i know it's not easy to teach me."

"everyone learns at their own pace," he says. he presses a kiss to your forehead. you lean in to kiss him on the mouth, but he backs away. "ah-ah, that's only for if you get a question right."

you groan loudly.

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faulty-writes · 1 year

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Can you do head-canons with sir night-eye, Aizawa, and all might where the student (general neutral & platonic.) they are teaching never trusts them.

Not in an f you way they just never take their advice seriously, playfully deflect reprimands, tease them (etc.)?

And as it turns out, every adult figure in their life always let them down or never really cared! Thank you!

[ Hello! Yes, I can do headcanons. I apologize for the long wait. ]

Mirio was the one that had introduced you to him, and from the start, you immediately gave Sir Nighteye the cold shoulder and purposely did everything you could to avoid his teachings or worse, his lectures.

When you went completely against his orders trying to apprehend a villain, he called you into his office and tried to intimidate you with his stare. Of course, it didn't work and his question, "Why did you do something so disrespectful?" never got an answer.

Whenever he threatened to put you into that God-awful tickle device of his, you'd always 'playfully' threaten him by saying you'd report him for harassment or worse, take him on with your own quirk.

"I believe it's time for you to leave" he'd say whenever you decided to purposely distract him when he was working, you'd do little things like knock on his desk or play music on your phone at full volume. Yeah, it was good to feel on top.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah" you'd always dismiss his requests, even if they were meant to try and connect with you by waving him off. Eventually, you thought he'd give up, but sadly that never happened.

He seemed to get highly defensive whenever you happened to insult one of Mirio's jokes, "Frankly, if you don't have a humorous comeback be quiet," and your usual reply to this was "Shut up!"

"Why do you continue to disregard my orders!?" he shouted while you lay in the hospital bed after a mission gone wrong and despite being in pain, you snapped "That's none of your business!" back at him.

Sir Nighteye put your internship on hold after supposedly being done with your disrespect. Not that such a thing surprised you, after all, what more did you expect from an adult? They only used and abused you, and continuously let you down.

Part of you wondered if Sir Nighteye knew just how hurt you were, especially with how he looked at you some days. But it was doubtful he'd ever try to open you up and even if he did, you'd refuse.

You always thought he was a fake, the way he sulked around and gave inspiration like "Don't say you can't, say you will" was all so cliche and you weren't a stranger in letting Mr. Aizawa know precisely how you felt about him.

You hardly paid attention during class, purposely propping your feet up and causing disruption. Despite the punishments, he gave you, like detention and threats of expulsion both of you were too stubborn to be broken.

"If you have a problem, you can say it in front of the rest of the class Y/n," even when he tried to single you out or attempt to embarrass you during class you never missed the opportunity to turn the embarrassment back onto him.

It was clear that you weren't just any old student, he had dealt with troublemakers in the past but you came off as a little different. More closed off with a hesitation to trust anyone but your fellow students. As your teacher, he felt it was his responsibility to help you stop hiding your pain or face it.

"That sounds a little extreme, yo!" Hizashi replied. "It's clear that Y/n is in some kind of pain, I wouldn't be a hero or a teacher if I ignored it," he shrugged and pointed a finger at Shota. "It's your funeral," he advised.

Trying to force an answer out of you wasn't the best idea, "Just leave me alone! You don't know anything!" you snarled, ready to take your teacher on regardless of the rules you were supposed to follow while on Yuuei High property. "I know enough to say you won't use your quirk against me and that something is wrong," he replied nonchalantly.

You tried to avoid him after this, but he didn't give up and went as far as to bring your family and your past mentors up. "What do you want me to say!? That none of them cared, that they all left me alone!? Is that what you want!?" you snapped at him, but he only remained quiet and laid his hand on your head as if trying to comfort you.

He seemed intent on proving that he wasn't like the rest of the adults that let you down. He'd take extra time to talk to you after class and constantly ask if you were alright. Frankly, you found it a little annoying, and no matter how hard he tried you knew you couldn't let yourself fall for his act.

"I just don't know what to do with the kid anymore," Toshinori confessed one day in the teacher's lounge. "Who, yo?" Hizashi replied making the former number-one hero sigh in response. "Y/n..." he said, turning his glance elsewhere. "That kid, unlike young Midoriya...is troubled," he concluded.

"Is that name really necessary?" he asked when you bluntly called him a "Stringbean hero" in front of the class. Of course, this wasn't the first time you had teased him and it was odd that you were one of the few people that didn't look up to him.

"Hey! Young Y/n!" he called one day in the hallway, hoping that his attempts to get closer to you would work. Unfortunately, you only cast him a glare that immediately caused him to stop. "What a face..." he muttered, but somehow he felt as though there was some pain behind your expression.

On occasion, you and he would get into a bickering match. Usually, in the presence of others, and 9 times out of 10, Izuku would try to break it up. "H-hey, why don't you um...take a break? After all, he's still A-All Might and he d-deserves respect," you hated that. Nobody deserved respect, it had to be earned and as far as you knew, he had done nothing for you.

"Look young Y/n!" he snapped one day after you had disregarded his advice during training which resulted in not only yourself being harmed, but your fellow hero students. "I might not know what's going on, but clearly you have something against me...or authority..." his fingers tightened on your shoulders. "But please, don't let it be the death of you," he said, leaving you feeling both angry and almost guilty.

You couldn't get that concerned, pitiful look of his out of your mind and eventually snapped "What is your problem!?" at him one day. "I don't need anyone to care about me so stop it!" you growled and stomped away before he had the chance to reply.

"I know I failed many people as a hero, but as your teacher, I want to help you succeed. Of course, in the end, it's your choice," he said to you one evening when he pulled you aside to talk. "Either way, I'll be here," he said, patting your shoulder before walking away. But you knew he'd never understand how you felt.

#aizawa x reader #toshinori x reader #shota x reader #all might x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x you #toshinori x y/n #bnha fanfiction #all might x you #all might x y/n #toshinori x you #faulty writes: toshinori yagi: 23 #shouta aizawa x reader #faulty writes: mirai sasaki: 23 #faulty writes: shota aizawa: 23 #faulty writes: toshinori yagi: headcanons: 23 #faulty writes: shota aizawa: headcanons: 23 #faulty writes: mirai sasaki: headcanons: 23

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