#every time i think of bustle i think of the clothing
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I fear to stain your clothes with blood;
Stain them, I don't care
'Eyeless' Jack Nyras in Creeped: BACKSTORY
PT. 2: PRESENT DAY
General disclaimer: This AU is an amalgamation of headcanons, fanon, canon, and the occasional rewrite. There is an overarching story that HEAVILY strays from their canon stories.
TW for toxic relationships, descriptions of gore/torture, cannibalism
BACKGROUND
➣Jackson Nyras was born on December 1, 1995 in North Dakota. He was the eldest of 6 children, with 3 little sisters and 2 little brothers.
➣His household was always bustling. Sunlight flooded every window as his father chased his little brothers, tossing them into the air with shrieking laughter. All while Jack found himself in the warmest place, besides his mother in the kitchen and chopping up bell peppers.
➣Jack's childhood home was always drenched in warmth. From the rowdy children to his mother's decor. Vibrant vases of marigolds littered the house.
➣Night after night, Jack would lead dinner. He'd feed the household and let his mother rest, regardless of Jack's own plate of homework waiting for him.
➣Jack was exceptional. Dedicated to his family and his education, he managed to graduate high school at only 16. His family gave him a bittersweet send off to Alabama to attend the Heersink School of Medicine.
➣Jack put his all into school. He maxed out his credits, spent hours doing homework, refused any friendly invitations just so he could prioritize his education. 3 years later, Jack received a bachelors in biology and was accepted into medical school. Once again, an early graduate. Exceptional.
➣It was 2014 when he met Jennifer Gold, a bubbly blonde in a nursing program. She shared a few classes with him and practically chased him down to give him a torn note with her number. It embarrassed him, watching this girl barrel down the stairs just for him. He'll admit, he never gave people the time of day. But she was beautiful, and she was smart, and he was tired of isolating himself for school. Besides, she'd be a good influence - she was just as focused on school as him. A nursing student, too.
➣Jack didn't think he could love someone like he loved Jenny. He reserved all his affection and care for his family, never once has a classmate cemented themselves in his life like this. Night after night, she came to his apartment. He'd cook for her, she'd wash the dishes. They'd settle down under a blanket and she'd doze off against him as they watched a movie. In the dark of the night with the soft blue light illuminating the room.
➣For their 6 month anniversary, Jack gifted her a silver necklace with a sapphire pendant. Jenny was special, he thought. Warm, loud, safe.
➣But in time, Jack had to share her attention. Her club seemed to suck in a lot of her energy, especially as their relationship progressed. Hours slipped away from them, and he began to accept that he'd go several days without a simple text.
➣It seemed a little odd to Jack. Anytime he inquired about the club, she brushed it off as something religious. He didn't even know she practiced any religion, but Jack wasn't the type to pry. It just seemed odd, but it was her thing. He didn't want to intrude.
➣It sure didn't help when her attitude soured. It started with neglect, until she became aggressive. He would find unsavory messages between her and other men, and somehow, the night would end with her crying and Jack fumbling out apologies. It seemed that every night she came over, rain pounded against his windows. It was a warning he chose to ignore.
➣Her voice grew piercing. He'd send her texts, tapping against his cobalt blue phone case. Jack's anxiety shot through the roof as the months progressed. Anytime he heard that 'ping!', his blood turned to ice and he hesitated to check his phone. Insults were frequently barreled his way.
➣It didn't make sense how this happened. He could study her all he wants, but she grew unpredictable. Cold, quiet, dangerous.
THE SACRIFICE
➣Only after several weeks of thick tension did Jenny come to him softly. Knocking at his door, slotting herself between his arms, whispering how she missed him all day long. Peppering kisses along his shoulders and asking if he could spend more time with her.
➣Of course he obliged. Sure, it was a little weird that 'spending more time' meant dragging him to a club meeting, but that wasn't a problem. He'd go to any pointless meeting to have his Jenny back, despite the odd air emanating from the situation.
➣The group was unassuming. A handful of college-aged students laughing together in a random library's study room, sharing drinks and lukewarm pizza. Breaking a few of the library's rules, adding to Jack's nervous demeanor. It wasn't until Jenny handed him a disposable cup filled with red punch that he calmed down. He relaxed a bit too much, he began to notice. His vision started to blur and his limbs tingled. He whispers to Jenny that he feels unwell. She laughed at him, nudging him back and telling him to stop being weird.
➣So Jack stopped. Everyone's laughter began to subside. His mind swarmed until his body slumped forward and everything went dark. He had passing moments of consciousness, times where he could feel large arms throwing him into a trunk and hushed whispers from the front seat. He could feel the ride starting smooth, until he faded right back out.
➣Jack fully came to a couple hours later. He didn't know where his glasses were, he didn't know where Jenny was, he didn't know where he was. He tried to sit up, only to realize he was restrained. He turned his head, realizing he was chained to a fucking table. A cheap, foldable, plastic table easily found at the nearest Walmart. He couldn't see the metal stakes dug into the dirt and obnoxiously duct taped to the table's legs, cementing it to the ground.
➣He heard matches strike. Several candles illuminated the cold, dingy cave he realized he was in. He craned his head upwards and, to his horror, was met with several cloaked figures.
➣Deep, purple cloaks cascading to the ground and hoods that shadowed their faces. Jack shouted obscenities and demanded an explanation. He thrashed at his restraints until a large, calloused hand slammed his shoulder back down and tightened the cuffs till they harshly pinched at Jack's skin. The pain quickly humbled his attempts.
➣It was pathetic how quickly he began to cry. When grimy fingers were shoved into his mouth and tore fishing hooks through his cheeks. They were tightly tucked behind his head, forcing his mouth open. With every violent thrash, the same hands grabbed his skull, lifted it as high as it could with his restraints, and slammed it harshly into the table. Jack lost consciousness again, far too overwhelmed with the situation.
➣He woke up again to a metallic, inky taste. He was choking on something, gagging and turning his head to vomit. His eyes shot open again to a cloaked figure looming over him. He couldn't even process the chants echoing off the cave walls, he was only focused on that damn mask. It was round and a dirty navy blue, with deep black cavities resembling eyes. His own eyes searched for some humanity. His gaze trailed to their neck, falling upon a silver necklace with a sapphire pendant.
➣Jenny. He tried to scream at her, but the hooks torn into his cheeks prevented real words. He didn't understand what she was doing. And he sure as hell didn't know what was in the rusty metal bucket in her hands. He could only see dark liquid dripping off the sides, not even able to distinguish the exact hue.
➣Skinny hands dug into the bucket with a squelch. She lifted a long entrail out of the bucket, and immediately it clicked in Jack's mind. He tried to plead but his choked gargles fell upon deaf ears.
➣Jack didn't know how much time passed. He was force-fed organs, choking them down and occasionally throwing them back up. He spent the first 30 minutes convincing himself they belonged to an animal, but the ritualistic chants and curious whispers told him otherwise.
➣All he wanted was to keep falling unconscious. Every time he felt himself slipping away, relief washed over him. Until he was woken up to new pain. Calloused hands once again yanking at his own, pinning them harshly to the table. He didn't realize what they were doing until he somehow gargled out a scream to the pain of a knife being lodged beneath his nailbed and violently tearing the nail off of each digit. It's like they were violently declawing a wolf.
➣Jenny had dropped the bucket by this point, opting to gently smooth his hair back as his torture progressed. As if that was supposed to be comforting. In the passing seconds that he could stand to keep his eyes open, he stared at her mask, pleading for mercy with his bloodshot eyes.
➣All he received were pathetic strokes against his cheeks, and all it did was further agitate the hooked wounds her accomplice gave him.
➣The worst, and final, part of the ritual eventually took over his body. A small pocket knife being shoved beneath his eyelids, carving out the organ and carelessly plopping them right into that bloody bucket. Jack's throat was torn from his cries. His entire body ached, his digits trembled violently, and the agonizing pain Jenny inflicted once again knocked Jack out.
➣He wasn't conscious when she peeled back his lids and used a stupid, dirty spoon to scoop an inky, black substance into his sockets. He wasn't conscious when they unhooked his jaw. He wasn't conscious when the warm, brown tone of his skin was dusted into a bloodless grey.
➣Frankly, he wasn't even conscious when his body began to move again. Something new completely took over, gearing his body up with newfound strength and adrenaline.
AFTERMATH
➣In hindsight, this was a stupid plan. Performing a ritual to honor a faceless being in its own forest? One that wants to be left alone? So far away from the city, too. They knew it would stop people from hearing Jack's screams, but they hadn't thought about their own.
➣Jack's body, possessed by an unknown entity, tore itself off of the table. Jenny was the first victim, but only for a moment. He quickly moved on to the others, about 10 more college-age students to tear apart.
➣As he hunted them through the forest, his body continued to change. The strength of his jaw increased tenfold while his teeth tore into their flesh. Between the unintentional crunches of their bones, cracks of Jack’s joints were muffled. His body began to grow, stretching him from 6’2 to an alarming 6’7. Jack’s eyesight was gone, but every other sense intensified and he had two new ones. His now bat-like ears offered him echolocation, and his sensitive skin provided thermavision. It was a horrifying sight, especially to the peering proxies watching from a distance.
➣He ate until he threw up. Then he ate again. The cycle continued until the corpses were strung across the forest, and Jack’s body took heavy steps back to the cave. Similar to his torture, his consciousness slipped in and out. Him and the demon fighting for control of his body. He fell to his knees in front of Jenny’s corpse, which was left relatively untouched, aside from the broken neck.
➣He fell on top of her, screaming and sobbing into the crook of her mangled throat, his bloody hands gripping into his lover’s waist. Shakily, he began to slip the mask off of her. He saw his angel’s face quickly losing heat. His hands fumbled with that damn cloak, eventually finding poorly sewn on buttons. He frantically took it off of her, just wanting to hold her before she fell too cold again.
➣He rested his head against her breasts, desperately seeking a heartbeat. His sobs settled down for a while as he violently shook against her, unsure where to go from here. He was hyper aware of the heat seeping from her body. He just waited in silence until he fell asleep against her.
➣He woke up to gore. His sweet Jenny, her body once left relatively intact, torn apart by his hands. Her torso was shredded, revealing cracked ribs and several missing organs. Why was he doing this to her? He wasn't hungry anymore.
➣In shame, he brought that mask to his face. He couldn't eat with it on, at least.
PT. 2: PRESENT DAY
#eyeless jack#sweetart#creeped#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanons#eyeless jack headcanon#creepypasta au#crp au#crp fandom#creepypasta fandom#eyeless jack au#EJ#jack nyras
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Theory: The Hustler's localized name will be...THE BUSTLE
REEEEEE
#the jojolands#jjba#jojo part 9#jojos bizarre adventure#jjba part 9#jojolands#jjba jojolands#paco laburantes#the hustle#jojo stands#localized jojo#every time i think of bustle i think of the clothing
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Alastor x Fem! Reader Getting Caught in the Act NSFW
It was one of those rare moments when you and Alastor found yourselves alone in the bustling chaos of the Hotel. Amidst fulfilling various requests for Charlie, Vaggie, and other residents, you two managed to steal away into Alastor's room. As the door closed behind you, a hush settled over the room, filled only with the crackling of distant fires and the occasional echo of laughter from the lobby.
In the dim light filtering through the curtains, Alastor's crimson eyes gleamed with a playful spark as he moved on top of you on his bed, his presence casting a captivating aura around him. You felt the weight of his gaze as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face.
"Oh, my sweet doe," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress against your skin. "It seems I've been neglecting you. However, can I make it up to you?" His breath danced across your lips, sending a shiver down your spine as he leaned in, his hands lightly restraining yours, pinning them down on either side of your head.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you met his gaze, the intensity of his stare igniting a fierce longing within you. "Alastor," you breathed, the sound barely a whisper in the stillness of the room. "Just being here with you is enough."
But he shook his head, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. "Nonsense, my dear. I intend to spoil you thoroughly," he replied, his voice low and husky with promise. "Tell me, what is it that you desire?" His lips curved into a smirk, a challenge glinting in his gaze as he awaited your response.
"I want you..." you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tinged with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.
"I'm sorry, my dear, I don't think I heard you!" Alastor teased, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of mischief. "I can't give you what you want unless you properly tell me." Crimson eyes dancing with amusement as he awaited your response, his hands still gently holding yours in place, the warmth of his touch sending a wave of anticipation coursing through you.
"Please... I want y-you!" you say, your voice now laced with more confidence, the words spilling forth from your lips with a newfound determination.
"There we go! Now, was that so hard?" Alastor chuckled, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he savored your response.
You roll your eyes at his condescending tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you meet his gaze with defiance. But before you can retort, he leans down, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. The world around you fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his touch, the heat of his embrace enveloping you in a blissful haze.
His hands leave yours and roam around your body, tracing every curve and contour with a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine. There's an urgency in his movements, a hunger that matches your own, as he explores every inch of your being with a reverence that leaves you breathless. His burning touch sets your body ablaze with a newfound arousal you hadn't felt in a while, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason and restraint. Each caress, each whispered promise, only serves to fuel the flames of desire that rage between you.
Alastor wastes no time in removing your clothes, his movements swift, as if he had been longing for this moment as much as you. "Oh, little fawn, you're so perfect," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble of appreciation as he admires your naked form, his intense gaze tracing every curve and contour with a hunger that sets your skin ablaze. You feel exposed beneath his penetrating stare, a flush of heat rising to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.
His hands reach lower to your nether regions, his touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin as he slides a finger over your folds, already sopping wet with anticipation. "My, my dear, already this wet for me?" he teases, his voice dripping with amusement and arousal as he revels in the sight before him.
"Shut-shut up," you retort breathlessly, your words barely coherent as desire clouds your mind and steals your breath away. But any further protest is lost as he dips a finger inside of you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins. With agonizing slowness, he begins to pump his finger in and out of you, each movement deliberate and measured, drawing out the exquisite torture of anticipation.
"How rude you are, maybe I should stop?" he threatens darkly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as his smile widens, teasing you with the prospect of withholding his touch.
"NO! Okay, I'm sorry!" you say loudly, desperation lacing your voice as you realize the gravity of your words. Panic floods your senses as he removes his fingers from your dripping core, leaving you achingly empty, the absence of his touch a cruel reminder of the pleasure denied.
"Alright then, let me hear you then," he says absentmindedly, his fingers deftly unzipping his pants before pulling out his hard cock, the sight leaving you breathless with anticipation.
"Huh? Hear what?" you reply, a knot of apprehension forming in the pit of your stomach as you pray that he wouldn't say what you think he's going to say.
"Beg for it, my dear," he states firmly, his voice laced with expectation as he gazes down at you, waiting for your response. "I need to hear you beg before I give you anything." The challenge in his eyes sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you, mingled with a sense of vulnerability as you contemplate what he's asking of you.
"P-please.." you mumble quietly, your face flushing with embarrassment as you struggle to voice your desires.
"Please what?" he quips back in a teasing tone, his gaze lingering on you expectantly. "Say it properly or you get nothing."
"Please, Alastor, I need you to fuck me," you finally manage to articulate, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea.
Finally hearing what he wanted, Alastor lets out a low chuckle, his amusement evident in the glint of his eyes. "That's my good girl~" he purrs, his voice sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
Before you can fully comprehend his words, he moves driving himself into you with a sharp thrust that steals the breath from your lungs, plunging you into a whirlwind of ecstasy and desire.
"That's it, that's my good girl taking me so well~," he mutters, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he continues to thrust in and out of you with a delicious pace, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
With each powerful thrust, he delves deeper, his hips meeting yours in a rhythmic dance of desire that threatens to consume you both. You cling to him desperately, lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure as he drives you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning, and in strides Vaggie, "Alastor, Charlie needs your help with- OH WHAT THE FUCK," she exclaims, her voice trailing off as her eyes widen in disbelief at the sight before her.
"I-I, we uh," you stammer, desperately trying to find the right words to explain yourselves, but before you can utter another syllable, Alastor beats you to it. "Don't you know it's rude to enter without permission?" he growls menacingly, his crimson eyes flashing with irritation as an ominous red "X" appears on his forehead.
As quick as Vaggie had interrupted, she was gone, swallowed up by black tendrils that wrapped around her, pulling her out of the room with a forceful yank and slamming the door shut with a resounding bang, the lock clicking into place.
"Now, where were we~" Alastor purrs, his gaze shifting back to you with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins, the interruption only serving to heighten the intensity of the moment.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor x you#fanfic#short story#smut#hazbin hotel smut#lemon#alastor smut
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If It All Fell (2)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst!! (poor Az :/)
a/n: I hope you enjoyy!! :) More to come obvi <3 This is gonna be a long one.
Part 1 ♡, Part 3 ☾
Series Masterlist
~~
Did the small wooden box on the top shelf of the closet have meaning?
Was it significant?
From the bed centered in the middle of the room, you let your eyes take you along the delicate carvings in the wood. They looped and curved, dropping off in the pattern of a star, and then a moon, and then a misshapen cloud.
You knocked your head to the side, ignoring the deep pain lingering there, and glanced at the empty spot on the dresser by the door. It was the exact size of the box. And the box—in its new, seemingly hidden location—looked haphazardly placed.
Did they move it for a reason?
Did they think you wouldn’t notice?
Was this even your bedroom?
You figured it must be. Clothes that looked to be your size were hanging in the closet. A vanity sat by the window with products on it that might compliment your complexion. There were paintings you found yourself enjoying hanging on the walls.
So this must be your bedroom… but there was something missing.
And it looked as if nothing was in the right place, but you had no frame of reference for where it was all supposed to be.
You just knew that that wooden box didn’t belong under a knit sweater in the closet.
The creak of the door drew your attention away from the apparent inaccuracy of the room. Two people entered, and it was a small mercy that you found some recognition in their faces. Majda and Mor slinked into the room, the latter with a sheepish, shy smile on her face, and clicked the door shut with a muted click.
“Hi,” Mor greeted, as Majda set an absurdly large bag on the bedside table. The blonde shifted her weight between her feet. “My name is Mor. We met in the forest, do you remember?”
Do you remember?
It was unintentionally cruel.
You nodded your head, not trusting your voice when it was so unfamiliar.
Mor’s smile brightened a touch. “I was hoping you would. Although, with everything that happened I wasn’t going to put too much pressure on you.” She winked, and you were left feeling like an outsider in your own conversation.
Majda bustled around your bed, asking permission before touching your head and your neck. You granted it to her, if only because she was the only person in the room not attempting to drive an uncomfortable conversation. Mor seemed very sweet, but she was hovering over you and glancing your way as if you were going to explode.
Maybe you were going to explode.
It’s not like you would know if that was a common occurrence for you.
“I know you’ve woken up a few times since returning ho—here,” Mor quickly corrected, playing with her fingers and shifting onto her toes. “You were confused for a while before you fell back to sleep. Do you remember that?”
Do you remember that?
You shook your head. Majda’s hands glowed and warmed against your skull.
Mor pursed her lips. “Hm, I suppose that’s to be expected. It was all a bit disorienting.”
There were a few moments of silence. Mor dropped herself into the chair that had been pulled up beside the bed, fidgeting every so often. The old healer continued her assessment of you as you stared blankly out the window and tried to pretend there weren’t a pair of brown eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. You could hear footsteps beyond your door.
They would pace one way, and then the other.
“No change.” Majda’s voice startled you out of your stupor. She gave you kind eyes and a pat on your cheek. “This is above my abilities. I’m sorry. You are in good health, otherwise.”
“My head,” you croaked out. Gods, how long had you been asleep? “It hurts. Hasn’t stopped.”
The healer hummed. “I can give you some tonics, but until the source of this amnesia is sorted out, there will be no definitive fix.”
A few glass vials clinked against the side table as Majda placed them there and slung her bag over her shoulder. She shared a few hushed words with Mor and then went to the door, swinging it wide as she stepped through it. You caught the tip of a wing in the doorframe, saw those same shadows from before curve around the hinges and pull towards you.
They were ushered back just as quickly, and then the door shut as well, hiding the hints of your visitor.
You hadn’t noticed you’d craned your neck to catch a glimpse until you righted it. When you heard more voices in the hall, you looked down at your fingers, blinking back tears you didn’t understand the origins of.
“Sometimes, you like to read,” Mor said, breaking the silence. “You were in the middle of this book.”
She placed the thick novel on the blanket beside your legs. Glancing up at Mor’s encouraging smile, you picked it up, feeling its weight in your hand instead of giving in to the one in your chest. You thumbed along the spine and then at the edges of the pages, stopping when your fingers caught on a sharp edge at the top.
A bookmark—a place where you’d left off. You flipped it open but couldn’t follow a bit of it.
More tears left your throat feeling thick.
“What happens now?” you quietly asked, trying desperately not to cry in front of this woman that you didn’t know.
“Now—” Mor began, clearing her own throat, her voice just as raw as yours. When she sat by your legs, you let some of the glossiness in your eyes show. “—we take things slow. Majda said we shouldn’t rush things until we find a source. Rhys—Rhysand… the one with the pointed ears and a pompous attitude—is in contact with other courts to try and get some help. There are other people in our Inner Circle that might be able to help as well.”
You bit into your bottom lip until it hurt. “I’m part of this circle?”
Mor’s smile was sad. “You are.”
~~
You shifted in front of the mirror, uncomfortable despite being alone. It had been three days since you woke up, and each of those three days had been spent in your bedroom. Your bedroom, you had confirmed with Mor.
The only two people you had been in contact with were Mor and Majda. You could hear other voices in the hall, sometimes see a shadow pass by your balcony at night, but you only ever spoke to Mor. Majda didn’t say much when she came in to check your head and drop off more vials.
“We don’t want to overwhelm you,” Mor had said, but there was something else, too. You weren’t comfortable enough to pry. She looked disappointed that you accepted her reasoning so easily.
The three days were spent mostly alone, which you hadn’t minded, but the time spent with Mor was filled with stories about you. Where you grew up, how long you studied, all of your favorite things; she was in the business of introducing you to yourself, and she was definitely qualified for the job.
You had asked her who she was to you, and you received a simple answer at that.
“I’m your family,” she had said, and then she began talking about you again.
She always got quiet when you spoke of your connection to others.
Which was why you had suggested a lunch.
You spent the better part of the last three days panicking, and then moping, and then aimlessly searching your bedroom for any hints of the life you led before this. All avenues either left you with a headache or emotional exhaustion.
You remembered the three other men from that day—Rhysand, Azriel, and the one with the longer hair—Cassian, Mor had called him. You wanted to meet them properly… introduce yourself? A ridiculous notion; according to Mor, you’d known everyone for the past 300 years.
But you didn’t know them, not really.
And Azriel’s shadows—you wanted to see them the most. You’d been searching for the calm they offered you since the day you woke up, but couldn’t find it in their absence.
“Are you ready?” Mor asked, a soft knock on the other side of the door.
“I think so,” you called back. You’d grown more accustomed to the sound of your voice. It was still strange to hear the sound echo back in your head, but as long as you didn’t scream or yell, it was tolerable.
Mor opened the door, took in your choice of clothes—a purple dress with sleeves that flowed past the wrists—and tried to hide the flutter of her lashes.
Embarrassment immediately found you. “Was I not supposed to wear this? It was in the back of the closet so I thought—”
“You look lovely,” Mor assured, linking your arm with hers. Touch was another thing you were growing accustomed to. It was easy with Mor. “You just haven’t worn that in a while. I was surprised to see it.”
As she walked you down halls you had never seen before, you huffed out a dry laugh. “Well, this is the first time I’m seeing it.”
Your joke fell flat. Mor smiled back at you, but it was the same smile you always saw. Sad, pained, bittersweet.
“Who did you say was attending?” you asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from her sad smiles.
“Just me, Azriel, and Cassian. There are a few more people we typically see on a daily basis, but we wanted to start out small.”
“To not overwhelm me.”
“Precisely.”
Your steps were silent on the marble floor, the silk slippers you chose allowing some of the chill to seep into your toes. “So, why did they choose you?”
Mor blinked and turned a confused expression your way. “What do you mean?”
“Why did they choose you as the one person that speaks to me? Are you the least overwhelming of the bunch?”
“Well that title certainly wouldn’t go to Cassian,” Mor grumbled out. She guided you to a large wooden door and offered you a shrug of her shoulders that looked far too nonchalant. “I was just the best fit for the job. I love you, but… I could handle this.”
“Handle this? Am I really so terrible?” you asked, trying your hand at another joke.
Mor’s smile looked more genuine this time as she shook her head. “No. No, you are absolutely wonderful. And that’s the problem.”
You took a moment to try and decipher her words. Did you mean that much to these people? Did they care so deeply about your memories that only one person could stand to be around you now that they were gone?
It was difficult not to fall into the immense vat of guilt you now found yourself teetering on the edge of. It was difficult to pretend Mor wasn't looking at you as if you had stolen something from her.
That was the truth that was missing before—you would be too overwhelming to everyone else. Not the other way around.
Mor gave your hand a fond squeeze as if she could hear your thoughts, and then opened the door. The hinges squeaked and the sheer size of it caused a rather loud echo in the room, but neither of those sounds drowned out the sharp intake of breath from the dining room table. Your eyes immediately shot to the blue glow and the shadows twisting around wide wings.
Azriel.
He looked back at you, unblinking, mouth parted. His hair was clean cut and cared for, but something about it looked frazzled and untamed. It didn’t suit the stiffness with which he sat, nor the white-knuckled grip on his fork that he maintained.
Black wisps slinked across the floor, stopping at your slippers and twisting around your ankles. You broke your stare from Azriel in favor of watching them swirl up your legs. True to your memory—which wasn’t a testament to much these days—their cool presence eased some of the pain in your head.
A throat cleared.
You snapped your head up.
“Uh, I’m Cassian. I don’t know if you remember me from the other day—”
“I do,” you softly interrupted.
Azriel choked out a shuddering breath. Your eyes lingered on the side of his face before returning to Cassian as he continued with, “Good. That’s good. New memories and all that. Very nice.”
“Cauldron, Cassian,” Mor admonished. “She’s not an invalid.”
He threw his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn’t say she was! I was being encouraging.”
“Great, I’m sure we all feel very encouraged. Come, y/n.”
You followed Mor blindly until a chair was pressed to your back and a plate was ushered in front of you. There were a few moments of silence, just the clinking of plates and forks, before the panic began to build in your chest. It was a familiar feeling for you, one of the only you could draw memories from.
You should say something.
Azriel and Cassian, they were doing this for you—taking time away from whatever it was they were supposed to be doing to have a silly lunch. In a normal world, you wouldn’t need to have lunch as a way to reintroduce yourself to your family.
Were they still your family?
You knew nothing about them, could reciprocate nothing.
There had been no news about the witch that did this to you and no one told you if Rhysand found anyone to help.
What if you were stuck like this?
What if they grew tired of you wasting away in your room and forcing them into lunches and—
“That dish is your favorite.”
Azriel’s deep voice rasped at the end of his sentence and sent every thought shooting away from your brain. You came back to present, catching yourself taking quick, shallow breaths and staring down at the table with no clear target.
“You eat it every other week. I—We picked it up from a restaurant along the Sidra, a river in town,” Azriel explained.
You brought your gaze up from staring a hole into the wood to find Azriel directly across from you, his posture more relaxed than before. His expression was patient, kind, and you nodded back at him.
“Thank you,” you whispered. But that was odd—whispering during a meal. “Thank you,” you tried again, clearer this time. “I appreciate that—”
“Azriel,” he filled in, not allowing you the possibility of a mistake. “My name is Azriel.”
You knew that. You knew all of their names as well as their faces. There were a few paintings shoved into the back of your closet that you had taken the time to study.
Did they shove them back there on purpose?
“It’s nice to meet you, Azriel.”
Azriel’s jaw quivered, his lashes fluttered.
He took a bite of salad.
“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” Cassian began, clearing his throat again. “But we used to—well, no, we currently have a weekly arrangement where you drag me to the theater and make me watch a show and I pretend I hate it but I actually have a great time.”
The lingering joy on his face made a small smile creep up onto your own.
“Sound fun to you? Might be nice to get out of that room.”
You took a deep breath, biting the inside of your cheek. This was a good sign, him wanting to spend time with you… him wanting to be in your presence and not break down into tears or anger or distaste.
“I would love to,” you said. “Although, I don’t know much about theater.”
Cassian dropped a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Wouldn’t expect you to know much about anything, sweetheart.”
Mor snorted the water she was drinking back into her glass, you let out a surprised, scoff-like laugh, and Cassian grinned from beside you, all teeth and snark and playfulness.
But Azriel.
Azriel stood up, his chair screeching as it pushed out abruptly. His napkin was clenched tightly in his hand and the rigidness from before was back and in full-swing. The shadows that had stayed with you for the duration of lunch zoomed back to their master, displacing the material of your dress as they went.
He had a bleak, hard look in his eye as he stared at no one.
“Azriel?” you asked, and it was the first time you’d started any semblance of a conversation on your own. Even when you spoke to Mor, she was the one prompting you to speak.
At the sound of your voice, Azriel quickly turned his gaze toward you, his eyes softening immediately. But just as quickly, his shoulders slumped, his napkin fell to the floor, and his hand came up to cover his mouth. “I—I’m incredibly sorry. I can’t do this.”
And then he was gone.
Part 3 ☾
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel acotar#acotar fanfiction#azriel angst#acotar
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You Drew Stars Around My Scars
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.
Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷
Word Count: 3.8k
The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain.
He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.
Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect.
But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.
He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you.
Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren.
---
Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment.
So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon.
He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.
His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside.
Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.
Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps.
Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”
He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.
“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.
That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”
Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”
You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.
Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?”
Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed.
You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.
---
The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing.
He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer.
You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river.
The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.
Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.
Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?
Had he ever felt like this?
After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then.
��Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.
You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about.
“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.
Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight.
“Are you a painter?” he asked.
“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”
Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.
On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought.
You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”
Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”
You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.”
“Can I walk you home?”
Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air.
It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”
Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”
You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”
Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”
---
Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet.
Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet.
He waited. And waited.
Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?
He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.”
Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly.
Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”
His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you.
You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”
Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated.
“Dancing,” you grinned.
“I can’t dance.”
“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.”
“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.
“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”
Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”
You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.
By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.
But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music.
He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.
You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”
He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.
Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded.
You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders.
“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing.
He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.
“There you go,” you grinned.
Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again.
He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his.
Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there.
Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his.
He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air.
Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red.
“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight.
“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face.
The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his.
For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.
At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.
---
Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow.
Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.
But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.
He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.
So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.
There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.
Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly.
You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway.
The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”
Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”
He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”
Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”
The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.
“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”
He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.
You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.
“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.
You nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”
There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.”
You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”
Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.
You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”
“Jax.”
“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”
You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”
He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”
That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies.
Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining.
---
Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages.
You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations.
“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.
“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.
Jaz nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints.
You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting.
Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him.
By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel.
You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”
“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.
Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jaz was busy admiring his own painting.
“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.
It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.
“Do you like it?” you said quietly.
“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”
He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you.
You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”
Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public.
---
By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.
Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand.
The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break.
The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars.
Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.
“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.
You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly.
“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.
“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.
“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you.
Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars.
“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.
“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.
#acotar one shot#acotar fic#acotar x reader#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel fluff#azriel one shot#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#azriel fic#request
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We Don't Have to Stop: 12 Days of Smut #10
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Warnings: profanity, mutual pining of sorts, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink but not really, truly cheesy fluffy shit, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: I do not like writing cheesy fluffy stuff, it is not me at all but I felt like this prompt really called for it so I tried my best. I love all of @mashedpotatooooos prompts, this was another really creative one!
It’s just a waltz, the simplest dance you could’ve been told to learn. Yet, with Bucky, it feels complicated. You don’t think the dance is complicated in itself, but the way Bucky has been teaching it to you for the past two weeks is complicated. Is complicated even the right word? It’s confusing. There you go, that’s the right word. He always came across as this elusive recluse. You rarely see him during the day but he’s up late every single night without fail. He doesn’t go out of his way to interact with anyone except for Sam. Or at least that was true until he offered to teach you to dance. Now, you’re all his every night at 8 pm.
From 8 to 10 pm, Bucky gets to remember what it’s like to have a girl swooning in his arms. Swooning? Maybe he was being a bit too bold by thinking that, but it sure felt like you were swooning when you looked up into his eyes just as he pulled you close against his chest last night. The way you’ve been looking at him the last few days makes him dread the day the mission is set for, because he knows that as soon as it’s over, your little late-night rendezvous in the gym will end. You’ll dance one final time while undercover at the gala, and then he’ll only have the memory of you being so close to him.
Bucky sits on the floor of the gym with his back leaning against the wall and his knees bent in front of him. He’s replaying the last two weeks with you in his head as he traces the golden lines of his vibranium arm with his flesh index finger.
“Hey, sorry I’m a few minutes late. I had a dinner thing.” Your sweet, melodious voice rings out like a song as soon as you come bustling into the gym. Even if you hadn’t mentioned having dinner plans, Bucky would’ve been able to tell from the full face of makeup and the loose curls you’re sporting. You look so put together, even though you’ve changed into more gym-appropriate clothes since dinner. You’re wearing a pair of black leggings and a baggy SHIELD sweatshirt. Normally, you’d have worn a t-shirt, but you were in such a rush you put on whatever you grabbed first. That was your first mistake. Your second mistake was leaving your hair down.
You’re only fifteen minutes into your little dance lesson when you decide that you’re getting a little too warm to keep the sweatshirt on, so when Bucky breaks away from you to pick a new song, you pull your sweatshirt off and toss it on the floor next to your water bottle.
Fuck. He’s staring, and he’s fully aware that he shouldn’t be, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. You’re standing before him in a black sports bra and matching leggings with sweat glistening across your cleavage and neck. Though your eyes are down on your water bottle as you work to screw the cap back on it, you can feel Bucky’s gaze burning as it coasts over your skin. You always know when he’s looking at you, it’s like a sixth sense.
“Play that song you almost played yesterday, the one with the trumpets, the one you skipped. I liked that one.” You say softly, when you finally look up and meet Bucky’s gaze. He swallows hard before nodding his head and setting the song to play. As soon as you hear the lead trumpet, you feel like you’re being transported back in time to whenever Bucky and Steve were probably the talk of Brooklyn.
As you and Bucky get into position to practice your waltz, Bucky hesitates for a moment. His hand comes to rest on your middle back, as it has every other time that you’ve practiced, but his touch feels unsure.
“This is a great song, but it’s not exactly a song for a waltz.” Bucky points out.
“Then show me how you’d dance to this one.”
This is what led to Bucky having his first moment in the 21st century that made him feel like he was truly at home. The two of you danced to It’s Been a Long, Long Time by Harry James in a way that Steve would’ve been proud of. Bucky pulled you in close, so close that your bodies were nearly flush against each other. You’d never danced like this with anyone before, but with Bucky it felt like second nature. He held one of your hands in his, slightly above the height of your elbow, and his other hand wrapped snugly around your lower back, keeping you pressed against him. As you swayed back and forth, the eye contact between you both was intense, lighting your soul on fire. When the burning inside of your chest became too much to bear, you did the only thing you could think to do. You leaned in and rested your chin on his shoulder. Truthfully, it was a beautiful moment. Bucky closed his eyes and imagined this exact moment happening back before his life became what it is today, when Steve was still the little guy he had to stick up for and everything costed a few cents rather than a few dollars.
The only thing that maybe wasn’t so beautiful was the hard-on that Bucky was sporting. Luckily, you didn’t notice it. His hips were just far enough away from yours that you never once brushed against the front of his pants. Though, you were every bit as turned on as he was. You thought maybe dancing like that explains why women had so many kids back in the day. Who knew it would’ve been such a rush?
When you finished your practice session an hour and a half later, you were quick to take your leave and rush upstairs to your room. At first, you were kicking yourself over the way you were practically swooning over the quiet, brooding man. But then, as you started to get into a warm shower, you began to wonder what was so bad about simply fantasizing about him. So, you threw on some music and spent the entire shower imagining him standing behind you, helping you lather the soap over your smooth skin. You may have even imagined him licking the drops of water off of your skin before you toweled yourself dry. Little did you know, Bucky was across the hall in his own shower, imagining the same damn thing.
---
The mission went off without a hitch. You waltzed the evening away, got all of the intel that you were after, and then made it home by ten pm. The two of you went your separate ways for the night, with you curling up in your room to begin typing out your mission report and Bucky heading off to do whatever it is he does late at night. When you finally shut your laptop an hour and a half later, you felt a twinge of sadness. No more late-night dance lessons, no more necessary closeness with the man across the hall, no more knowing what it’s like to be pressed against Bucky’s chest. You decide to trek out into the kitchen for a near-midnight snack. A snack is exactly what you need to lift your spirits.
Bucky hears your door open and close down the hall. He listens closely as you patter down the hallway and across the living area, your footsteps slowing as you near the kitchen. Your eyes land on his bare shoulders first, and then your gaze coasts down the muscles of his back. Shit, he should go shirtless more often. You join him in the kitchen without saying a word. He turns to look at you as you rummage through the pantry, but looking at you only makes him feel worse. He wants something that he didn’t know he wanted, and it’s all because of that damn dance two nights ago. The dance where you rested your chin on his shoulder and let him hold you close enough to feel your heartbeat pounding against his own.
You settle on a box of cereal, pulling it out and shutting the pantry door. When you turn to look for a bowl, you notice Bucky’s stare. He doesn’t look away, instead you end up looking into each other’s eyes. His gaze is full of longing, and maybe a little bit of lust.
“You’re up late.” His voice sounds so tired, it makes you want to drag him back to his room and tuck him right into bed.
“I’m getting used to these late hours, dancing with you every night messed up my Circadian rhythm.” Bucky laughs lightly, but your words keep playing in his mind.
“Sorry, we probably should’ve been practicing earlier in the day.” He admits.
“No, it’s fine. I liked having the gym to ourselves. I’ll miss it, honestly.”
“Having the gym to yourself?” Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow. He watches as you carefully pour a bit of cereal into a small ceramic bowl.
“No.” The word leaves your mouth too quickly to take it back.
“What will you miss then?” He wants to hear what you’re thinking, he wants to know that you’ll miss it as much as he will.
“It was nice…the dancing.” You say quietly, your eyes flitting over to where Bucky stands confidently now, his arms crossed over his bare chest and a smile playing on his lips.
“It was.” He agrees. That’s all he has to say? God, you need to calm your damn racing heart if that’s all he has to say. Bucky continues watching as you pour milk over your cereal and then take a small bite. He can just barely make out the slight blush painting your cheeks. As his eyes coast down your frame, he notices the way you’re clenching your thighs together ever so slightly. Fuck. It isn’t even lust he’s feeling. He wants to slow dance with you to 40s music and then lay you down in his bed and kiss you all over. He wants to go back in time and introduce you to his mom before sitting down and having a family meal with you by his side. He wants all of the old-fashioned things with you.
The one and only time Bucky that has lost control since being freed from the hold that the Winter Soldier had on his mind, happens right there in the kitchen. As you raise your spoon to take the second bite of your cereal, Bucky rushes forward, practically knocking the spoon out of your hand as his hands come to cup either side of your face. His lips are on yours before you even have a moment to realize what’s happening, but your body responds like kissing Bucky is a natural instinct. Your cereal is forgotten as he walks you backward two steps, his lips slotting over yours with an urgency and passion you’d never dreamt would come from him. When your back collides with the cool metal of the fridge, your lips part to breathe in a gasp of air and Bucky takes the opportunity to slide his tongue between them. It’s a kiss that could make you forget your own damn name.
“I liked dancing with you.” Bucky whispers against your lips, letting you have a moment to catch your breath. You look up into his eyes, silently begging him to say more. “We don’t have to stop, just because the mission is over.”
“Stop dancing?” You question. Your innocent little expression makes his cock a little too hard, and he starts to step away from you, worried you’ll figure him out. You’re quick to place your hands on his sides and keep him in place.
“Stop dancing, stop being this close to each other, we don’t have to stop anything.” Bucky answers. He presses a much softer kiss against your lips before pulling back again.
“Don’t stop then.”
---
“Don’t stop, Bucky, please.” You moan out the words as quietly as you can, which isn’t very quietly given Bucky’s entire cock is pumping in and out of you so quickly that you can’t even catch your breath. He wanted to be old-fashioned with you. Bucky fucking loved the idea of taking you out on a date, taking you dancing, taking things slow. But as soon as you told him not to stop in the kitchen, he was done for. It had only been fifteen minutes from then until now. Now he’s fucking you like you’re his newlywed wife.
“I’m not, baby. I’m not stopping for anything.” He grunts, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he continues to thrust into you. You’re taking his cock so well that he can’t keep himself from imagining giving it to you every day for the rest of his life. You’re taking his cock so well that he hopes you end up pregnant with his child, so he can live out the perfect 40s fantasy that lives in the back of his mind. He wants you all to himself, sleeping in his bed, having his kids, growing old with him. His thrusts grow a little slower and sloppier as he edges himself unintentionally.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask. You can tell he’s lost in thought as he continues sliding in and out of your wet cunt. You run your hands up his back and then rake your nails down it lightly.
“The 40s.” He answers semi-honestly. Bucky lifts his head and looks in your eyes and gives you an unexpectedly hard thrust with his hips, driving his cock in so deep that you feel the tip brush against your cervix. After your sultry moan echoes throughout his room, you try to gather yourself and continue the conversation.
“Would you have fucked me like this in the 40s?” You have to ask.
“You think I’m fucking you?” Is he not? Bucky looks down at you quizzically, patiently waiting for an answer as he continues his painfully slow movements. You nod your head, unsure of how to really answer his question. Bucky kisses you just like he did in the kitchen earlier. It’s a mixture of lips and tongue, with a heaping portion of passion. He sucks on your bottom lip before biting down on it and then picking up the pace with his hips. He thrusts into you harder and harder until the pleasure you’re feeling is so overwhelming that your nails dig into his back a little too hard and you’re sure you’ve left marks that’ll last at least a couple of days. When Bucky feels the walls of your pussy fluttering around his cock, he knows you’re close and he takes a leap. He lets himself cum inside you without saying a damn word. You watch as his head tilts back above you and a long, low groan escapes his lips and enters the space between you. He’s cumming inside of you, and he looks so fucking perfect doing it. Simply seeing him come undone like that sends you right over the edge after him, and he fucks you through the strongest orgasm you’ve ever experienced.
A few seconds go by and Bucky remains buried deep inside of you, refusing to make any move other than peppering kisses across your nose and cheeks as you come down from your high.
“I didn’t fuck you.” He says between kisses. You giggle and shake your head, clearly not understanding.
“Are you sure?” You ask, your eyes floating down to where your bodies are still connected. Bucky’s gaze softens as he leans down and presses one last soft kiss to your lips.
“I made love to you.”
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#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#mcu#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#12 days of smut
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FLOWERS FOR THE 'TOTALLY-A-COUPLE' FRIENDS
oscar piastri x reader
when two friends visit the market and, upon seeing free flowers being given out to couples, they decide to pretend to date for the sake of free flowers. when they end up liking the idea of pretending to be together, they end up wondering why they need to pretend to begin with.
credit to @foreveralbon for the idea!!!! <333
authors note: this was so fun to make!!! i really wanted to make something for oscar and totally stole this idea from liyah (THANK YOU AGAIN!!!) so I finally have an imagine for oscar yay!!!
SOMETIMES IT’S NORMAL FOR FRIENDS TO PRETEND. pretend they’re fighting, pretend while playing games, pretend they’re racing against traffic, pretend they don’t really like each other more than friends.
they pretend they’re dating for the sake of free flowers from a random guy in a market that they visited as friends because they are friends. they are friends. it’s totally normal, totally completely normal for friends to do such things.
it was as simple as that.
at least it was before it all happened because now they didn’t know if they were just pretending anymore or if they had dropped the act hours ago. was it all really that simple now?
it was a clear day in oscar’s hometown and what better way to spend such a beautiful day off than in the company of his good, even best, friend at a market down the street from where he grew up. considering she hadn’t grown up in the area he had, he wanted to show her around all the classic spots that he used to frequent with his mum as a little kid.
well, now he felt like his mum when she used to drag him to all the corner stores or street markets in the blazing sun and smudge sunscreen on his face, except now it’s with her. his best friend, and only his friend and nothing more because his mother was convinced he was smitten. he always denied it.
but everyone could see the way he looked at her whenever he smiled, how she would be the first person he looked to when he laughed at a joke someone else made.
everyone knew except for them, it was painfully obvious that they both felt more for each other than they allowed, and they were painfully oblivious.
the walk on grass, through the bustling market, was relaxing with hands to their sides and their shoulders constantly touching. every so often, they'd look away with red faces and awkward smiles as their hands just barely grazed each other’s skin, but they never closed that gap. it had been happening for months and their friends were clawing at their eyes just waiting for it to happen.
but they weren't here to push them together, just the two friends walking past different stalls of clothes, antiques, accessories, and other various items.
a light breeze blew her hair into her face, causing the constant sputtering of lips as strands stuck to her lip gloss.
of course, in true friend fashion, he laughed every time at her struggles with taming her hair, telling her without fail, “you should really put your hair up, it'll only keep getting in your face.”
she scoffed at him as he pulled strands from her face and futilely attempted to tuck them behind her ears as they blew back into her face.
“i don't think i even have a hair tie,” she whined as she pulled her hair back but couldn't tie it up.
“oh, wait, i do,” he remembered the band on his wrist, years of being friends meant carrying hair ties around for the girl because she wouldn't.
she gasped softly, taking it from his hand that held it flat on his palm, muttering “oh my god, osc, i love you so much, thank you,” she rambled under her breath, “not going to question why you even have it.”
a smile graced his face, completely tuning out her last words at the nickname she had called him. it made his heart flutter every time.
the words ‘i love you’ had been said constantly throughout their friendship that it was second nature at this point. to them, it was just a simple sentence they threw around, though the saying became more and more frequent in the past few months.
maybe it was their way of getting to say their feelings in a disguised, double-meaning phrase that wouldn't confuse what they were.
oh, but it did.
at this point, the words ‘i like you’ held deeper values because it told them how they really felt, but they would never say it. they could've rehearsed it in their heads for days, weeks, or months on end just at the end of the day to say the thing that felt safest. i love you.
he simply muttered back in admiration, “you're welcome.” a smile played on his lips for the longest time, the more he looked at her, the warmer and fuzzier he felt his heart become.
maybe his mum was right.
he shook his head internally. no, she couldn't be. but as he looked at the girl, in such deep admiration like she was the only thing to have ever existed in his life before, he wasn't so sure.
he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as they continued on walking. the breeze had calmed, and her hair was safely tied up and out of her face. back to grazing hands ever so slightly and arms rubbing against each other caused goosebumps to line their skin.
it was cold, they said to play it off as they looked in opposite directions. the more time passed, the more they hung out, the more excuses they made, and the more awkward it became.
the awkward silence between the pair, birds chirping and other monotonous conversations were the only thing heard until a deep voice called from somewhere up ahead of the crowd.
she stood on the tips of her toes to see over the heads of other people while he made no effort to because he already could.
“guy’s handing out free flowers,” oscar started before pausing and looking at her, “for couples.” he scratched his neck again.
she exhaled sharply, “we could totally pull off being a couple,” she slowed down to the side and stood in front of him. he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and a racing heart.
“you think?” he tilted his head with thought, pursing his lips, “free flowers are free flowers.”
“exactly,” she said in a intellectual tone, holding her hand out for him to grab, “what do you say?”
he thought for a moment. at least he acted like he did because he would've grabbed her hand in a heartbeat, but he couldn't make it obvious.
“alright,” he agreed, hesitantly interlacing their fingers together, “but if you’re uncomfortable at any time, we can stop.”
she rolled her eyes, turning back walking into the crowd, now with his hand interlocked with hers at their sides, “yeah, yeah.”
but he pulled her back before she could slip into the crowd, bumping back against his arm, “promise me, you'd say something.”
she paused, and sighed, “i promise, okay, let's go,” she pulled him along, feeling his slight resistance while dragging him because he thought I'd be fun to see her struggle.
when she gave him a look when she turned her head, only then did he follow alongside her.
the guy handing out the free flowers wasn't too far from them, considering how loud he was when they first heard him.
when they first approached him, they could tell he was skeptical. for some odd reason, they didn't fit the image of a couple. it didn't mean they didn't suit each other, they did by all means look amazing side by side, but he knew. somehow he knew.
maybe it was the way they looked so naïve, how they stood with space still between them, or the nervous energy they put out. either way, he didn't believe them.
“kiss then,” the guy shrugged, causing the ‘couple’ to look at each other confused. she pursed her lips before opening her mouth to say something when he spoke first, “if you're really a couple, just kiss. not that big of a deal.”
it wasn't like they were uncomfortable with what he was asking. oscar was just unsure how she felt about it, meanwhile she didn't care. deep inside, she was nervous because they're just friends, they've never held hands—until now—let alone kiss.
though once she noticed oscar's hesitancy to make a move, she knew she would have to be the one to do so. she didn't give him time to react, hand around the back on his neck to pull him down to her level and his chapped lips met her glossy ones. his hand ravelled its way into her tied hair, messing up the perfectness she had.
she tasted sweet, the gloss on her lips transferring to his before she pulled away less than a second later. his lips were pinker with the blood rushing to his face.
the guy was smug and satisfied, handing them the bouquet they just kissed—as friends—for.
by the time they had walked away, still no words had been exchanged between the pair. their faces still flushed red and their lips left pink and glossy. every glance in the others direction led to them looking the opposite way. they hadn't processed the fact their arms were interlinked now as Oscar held the flowers in his other hand.
he cleared his throat, prompting her looking at him as he held them out to her, “here.”
her lips parted as she stuttered over what words to say, “are you sure?”
he furrowed his brows, “yeah, why wouldn't i be?”
she nodded, “right, yeah.” she took them from his grasp. she looked at then how oscar looked at her, but maybe it was because oscar had given them to her.
she felt fuzzy, she felt a smile creep into her face as she smelled the flowers. her heart was pounding in her chest. she liked the idea of this fake dating thing, but she didnt imagine the length it would go to in such a short amount of time after she proposed the idea.
maybe she only liked the idea of pretending to be together because it was the closest thing she had to actually being with him.
they remained in silence for the whole walk back to his car, she still clutched the flowers with almost both hands. his hand still laced with hers as she held the bouquet against her body. they only separated as they went to their respective sides of the car, carefully getting in before buckling their seat belts.
the drive was silent, even the volume for the radio hadn't been turned up, only the air conditioning could be heard. it was like that for a while as he drove her back to his house because they'd made the plan to hang out afterwards. he thought it would be rude to change routes and drop her back at her house.
when they arrived, they sat in the car, unmoving in silence.
“do you want to talk about it?” his voice was uneven, and he wasn't looking at her when he spoke, not until the silence consumed them again did he turn his head.
“i mean—there's nothing to talk about really,” she shrugged, unsure of what to say as she bit on her lip, “we were just—pretending, right?”
she turned in her seat to look at him, and he nodded, “right, so just friends.”
“right,” she repeated in confirmation, nodding along as they both looked ahead again.
she hesitated. she realized things had already changed between them, their dynamic had shifted and it wasn't going to be the same. it wasn't going back so if she was going to do any more potential damage, she knew now would be the time.
“but—i guess i didn't mind it,” she muttered under her breath, causing him to gaze across at her, “the fake dating, I mean.”
“really?” he questioned, hand gripping the wheel despite the fact they were stationary.
“i mean, it was fun while it lasted,” she finally met eyes with him, fidgeting with her hands as she pursed her lips, “i enjoyed it.”
“the fake dating?”
“the kiss.”
he only nodded, thinking deeply in his head, but on her end, she thought she majorly fucked up whatever they could've salvaged from before. now they couldn't.
truthfully, he just had no words. the kiss had given him a different perspective because now he was longing to kiss her again, to feel and taste the lip gloss on his lips that came from hers.
it was like every feeling he had ever felt for her was pushed to the very forward part of his brain and refused to be put away again.
“i enjoyed it too.” he muttered so quietly, she nearly didn't hear him.
but when she had finally registered the words, a smile cracked her serious face and she looked at oscar, “really?” her voice was high and so unsure.
he only nodded in confirmation as she melted back into the car seat, smiling giddily as if she hadn't been waiting for this.
“hey,” he spoke softly, still gazing at her with eyes of admiration she only saw now, “i guess—it doesn't have to be pretend.” he shrugged.
“are you saying what i think you're saying, piastri?” she leaned back and watched him roll his eyes, only pulled in by oscar's hand on the back of her neck to make her meet him in the middle above the center console. he felt her lips smile against his which caused him to as well. it was infectious.
he cradled her face in his hand, this second kiss lasted much longer than the first, and it marked the end of their long-lived friendship and short-lived pretend dating, but marked the hopefully long-term relationship that had now sparked between the two.
—
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @poppyflower-22 @thearchieves @beskardroids @lorenica @hiireadstuff @delululeclerc
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
#formula 1#formula 1 drivers#formula one#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri angst#oscar piastri au#op81#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 fluff#op81 fic#op81 x you#op81 angst#f1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris imagine#oscar piastri imagine
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for i can't help falling in love with you
pairing: vada cavell x fem reader
summary: not only are you new and in almost all of vada's classes, but the more you get to know each other, the more you hang out. she starts to think maybe your friendship is more than what she thought it was, she's feeling something she knows that you shouldn't feel for a friend.
word count: 10.1k+
a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, this is fluffy and sweet, spent way too long on it but nonetheless, not regretful!
based off a request! this is for my vada <3ers
-
R transfers, V sees her almost all the time and eventually starts falling for R, V then embarrassingly asks R out for dinner! Just plainly puppy love, literally not much but I find these types of tropes sooo comforting, u can change some up a bit!!
-
It’s loud, bustling, chaotic every single day in the cafeteria.
As soon as the bell rings around the hallways and into the classrooms for lunch break, everyone slams into each other and sprints to the front of the lunch line. Vada even remembers while she walked with Nick some boy tripped in thin air and fell to the floor. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. That was until Nick and her found out he had to get stitches to repair his nose.
She laughed even harder, she couldn’t help it.
Vada slurped her slushy as she kicked her feet, talking with Nick who was drinking an iced latte.
“In a sense, slurpees are better than coffee. You don’t have to immediately shit diarrhea as soon as you plop on the toilet.”
He agrees, rolling his eyes, “Yeah but who would want slushies every day? They stain your mouth.”
“Well would you rather have a temporary colorful tongue that can be seen as cool, or stay in the bathroom while crying for help?”
It seems like as soon as she said it, Nick gagged as he held his stomach.
“You have 30 seconds before you're going to shit your pants,” she states, looking at him up and down. He wasn’t moving.
“Nick, go!” Vada yelled as she choked on a small giggle, watching Nick run to the bathroom holding his pants up to his sides.
As the baggy clothed brunette watched her best friend race to the bathroom, she clicked her tongue and shook her head. Vada slurped on her red slushy.
She was waiting for Nick until she noticed someone with a jacket wrapped around a tank top with her headphones on and book in one hand. You. She’s never seen you before and it was almost certain she’s seen everyone at least once before to know their name. She was bored, so she just watched.
You were folding a gum wrapper into a heart while you followed Mia into the girls restroom. Mia was always the one to give student tours when she could. You must’ve been new. But then you came back out without your jacket, holding it in the other hand as she saw Mia’s slushie spilled all over your jacket. She could almost hear how she was apologizing over and over again and you smiled it off, showing her how it was okay and you could clean up when you got home.
Then she took you back to her friend group, seeing the way your hair went side to side as you walked. Before she could watch you even more, Nick called out her name.
“I just took the biggest shit of my li- what are you looking at?”
She hears him but doesn’t turn his way,still looking a little, “Just someone who I think is new. Mia is giving her a tour.”
Nick said a small “ohhh..” in response, “Well what’s so exciting about that?”
“Mia accidentally spilled the slushie we bought this morning on her jacket by accident.”
“That’s so not cool, she must be cold having to take that off, was she mad?”
“No, she just brushed it off, smiled in a somewhat assuring way, and gave Mia the gum wrapper she folded before Mia took her back to her friend group.”
“Ooh. She’s patient then.”
“Yeah.”
-
After lunch passed, Vada realized you were in almost all her periods, well only the ones she attended. Sometimes she was late from Amelia hogging the bus. You kept to yourself, gave shy smiles as the teachers introduced you.
But as the next day rose she was back at school again.
Her favorite class was her film class, it was like a free period and she got to touch cameras and watch movies at least twice a week.
She sits in the corner of the room, she likes the way she can look out the window and see the sight of the sky while also seeing her own reflection.
FIlm class is oddly comforting, music always plays before the period begins. She places her phone on top of her desk.
So for the third time that day, she sees you walk through, with your backpack hung over one shoulder and the other with a book. She wants to feel surprised, almost strange how you end up in her class, but instead she almost feels a sense of gratefulness.
She doesn’t want to stare. But her eyes betray her, because in one second her eyes are on you. New students weren’t regular, well in her core classes, sure. But film? Almost never. She watches the way you wait by the teacher’s desk, waiting, unsure, not knowing if you should tap her shoulder or just wait until she notices you. Usually, Vada and Mia would sit together, but sometimes on bad days, they would have to move from talking and laughing too much. So they stuck to sitting diagonally and passing notes in the back of the classroom. Finally, the teacher notices you and the smile she gives you is almost too happy as she rubs your shoulder and stands up.
“Alright everyone,” she quiets down her music, “..usually during film I’d let the music keep rolling, but just for today I’d like you to greet our new student who just transferred here. Her name is Y/N.”
People around the class say awkward hi’s, random waves, some of the girls stare at you and awe, and even some of the well-known guys look at you, eyebrows raised and Vada can almost feel their want for you.
It makes her roll her eyes in disgust.
You do an awkward wave, wanting to shrink into the floor, a smile tugged at your lips.
“Okay sweetheart, there aren’t many options for seating since this class is more compacted than my others. But you can sit next to Vada.” Ms. Valentina points at Vada, “She’s the one in the very back, the open seat behind Mia.”
Your eyes almost light up when you notice Mia’s in your class, giving a small nod and trying to squish into the back.
Mia waves at you, shaking your shoulders to show her excitement as you sit down. Vada can almost smell the sweetness of your shampoo when you sit. It smells like ripe strawberries with the fulfilling scent of roasted marshmallows. She wants to sniff your hair, but you’re already pulling out your notebook from your backpack.
“Hey girl!” Mia whispers, turning around to face you as you smile.
“Hey slurpee stainer,” you joke, your voice is soft, airy, melodic. Not like anything Vada’s ever heard. Sure she’s heard many voices, but yours sounded like a lullaby to shush a baby to sleep if you wanted to.
Mia giggles, slapping your arm, “I said I’m sorryyyy. I’d say I’d take you shopping on the weekends! Don’t use that against me,” she scolds, and that makes you laugh, you cup your mouth to contain the giggles and Vada can hear an adorable squeak come out from it.
“I know, don’t be sorry, I was just joking, I’ll just wash it when I get home,” you whisper.
Before you two could talk again the teacher spoke, “Okay guys, it was a long day yesterday and I was planning on printing out some papers for assignments two days prior, but our school printer broke and the ink on mine is hanging on for dear life.” She pauses, everyone didn’t know where she was going with this, “So I’m just going to roll a movie, you guys can choose but I really don’t have much. You can talk, keep it low and hey, if you’re sitting around Y/N, lighten up the mood and get to know her.”
There were random okays and suggestions. As Ms. Valentina kept reading aloud the names, it was almost certain that Shrek was going to be chosen. For the third time this month. Until she spoke out a new suggestion, and everyone chose La La Land instead.
As she played the movie off the projector, Mia scooted to you.
“Okay, so no pressure, buttt my dad's gone today and I know you said you didn’t have homework. If you don’t want to, it's completely understandable, but me and Vada,” she gestures to the brunette sitting next to you, with her hands clasped together and looking at you with interest, “We sometimes go on pool runs or just drive to the nearest seven eleven. Honestly, it’s whatever. But if you wanna hang, I can give you a ride back home, let you drop off your stuff, and we can get to know each other more at mine. What are you thinking?”
Your lips tug into a thoughtful grin, telling Mia she doesn’t have to because she accidentally spilled her drink on you. But Vada kept staring at you. The blonde glanced at her, she saw her basically staring at your side profile, then back at you before giving her a light leg nudge that you didn’t notice.
“No no! Don’t feel pressured, just know that” Mia breathes and pats your forearm reassuringly, “..that I think we should hang out more, kay? You don’t know how many people don’t get mad when someone spills something on them. At least you’re someone who's patient as hell.” She makes you laugh as you think again.
“Okay, I’d love that,” you respond, simply.
“Then it’s set! Just meet us at that broccoli lookin’ tree, kay?”
-
As soon as the bell roars and everyone starts opening the gates like it’s the ones they’ll see in heaven, you squish into the crowd of people and look for this broccoli looking tree Mia was referring to. It didn’t take you long.
The only broccoli looking tree was the only tree that was stranded from all the poofy and leafy looking trees, and you could see her with the other brunette that you sat next to in class. You think her name was Vada. You didn’t want to ask, if you did and Vada wasn’t her name, you might as well crawl into a hole.
Mia immediately greets you.
Vada kicks at dirt beneath her, smiling a little foolishly, she realizes when she thinks how silly she might look to you. Her silly smile slightly fades to a more soft one to try and not seem weird. Instead you feel like she might feel uncomfortable with you, maybe she’s closed to people she meets at first. You hope that it doesn’t stay that way
“Get in!” The blonde smiles, and you swerve into the backseat as you drive off to the nearest seven eleven.
Mia’s car smells like flowers, you almost feel a little carsick from the leather and floral scent mixed together. You smell something else though, sweet plum and fluffy musk. You think it’s Vada, you can almost smell her shampoo from here.
It’s a little quiet, Mia talks to Vada, you try not to disrupt so you pretend you're looking at the window staring at literally nothing. It’s like the blue-eyed girl can see the way you try to keep to yourself and don’t want to be involved when you don’t think you should. So she bumps the music up.
Vada wants to talk to you. She can feel this urge for her heart to make her mouth open and speak. But for some reason she feels nervous. It’s weird, she’s usually open and starts off with teasing. Why can’t she speak now? Maybe it’s because.. Vada doesn’t even have a reason to know, she just doesn’t know.
“Dude, how is there traffic already to go to a fucking seven-eleven? We literally just left school.” Mia murmurs, tapping her shoes to the music.
Vada turns around, to look at the cars behind her, maybe to check how many are behind her.
That’s what Mia thought, but Vada wondered what you were doing. She's never met someone that tries to be considerate, to be polite and not wanting to interrupt anyone at any time
She notices the way you take the opportunity of the slightly opened window to take a breath of fresh air and let that small crack to let the small breeze blow through your hair. She sees the way you twirl your necklace up and down, side to side, then spin it around your fingers. She notices how you don’t notice her, so you don’t look at her, you look at the sky, the small baby cows, the cars.
It’s like a pencil is engraving into her mind to write all the details she sees. But she doesn’t know why.
Your figure slightly leans into the window, closing your eyes to rest. Maybe you’re thinking about Mia and what a good friend she is. Maybe you’re thinking about wanting to get to know her, Vada. Maybe you’re thinking of how long it’ll take for you to blend in into this place. Maybe you’re thinking how your place didn’t have many cows everywhere. Maybe you lived in the snowy mountains, or the coastal shorelines where you could take a dip in cool water every summer morning.
She sees your eyes flutter as the car slowly stops. Her body tenses and turns back to the front, you’re already at seven-eleven.
“It’s honestly kind of warm outside, I can turn on the AC on this thing if you don’t wanna go,” Mia says, finally turning around to look at you rubbing your eyes.
“No, no, it’s ‘kay, I’ll come, gotta exercise these legs anyway.” You say, opening her door and following suite with Mia and Vada. The small concreted rocks crunching beneath your shoes.
Mia obviously wants to check out the candy section, but Vada wants another slushy.
“Hold up, I think they have the candy they didn’t have when I checked the other time. Vadaaa you can just roam with Y/N. I’m not sure if you guys had seven-eleven where you lived.” She peeks into the candy section and with a spin of a corner she’s gone.
Vada stands there, awkwardly. She feels like if anything, you should be the one standing there like that. You stand there, looking at the slushies. Cola, blue raspberry, cherry, mountain dew, honestly you didn’t know if you should get one.
“Do you want to get one?” Vada asks, the first time you really heard her speak.
Your ears perk, turning to face her, “I’m not really a slushy person,” you speak softly, “I’m a little thirsty though.”
Vada smiles at that, “I like the cherry flavor and blue raspberry, but you gotta swirl it a certain way for it to taste the way I really like it, y’know?” She speaks, you nod, noticing her baggy basketball shorts and oversized shirt.
She walks closer, she can smell the same sweetness of your scent. Strawberries and roasted marshmallows. Your scent is oddly comforting, a scent where anyone would hug you longer and never let you go to smell it forever.
She stops before you can process anything, slightly backing away and focusing on the slushy dispenser.
“Okay. So like, I know you’re probably not supposed to do this but I just put my index and middle finger under the dispenser and,” she stops, looking at you, “make sure you wash your hands though,” she laughs. “But if you don’t know what flavor, just lick it off your fingers.”
Vada can almost sense you suppressing your laughter, “Seriously! I don’t give two shits about those security cameras. Honestly we go here so often we could get a free slushy and not pay.” She places her fingers under the dispenser of the cherry blast and presses the button, stopping it and licking it off her fingers.
It’s like she’s teaching you. She likes the way you’re interested and really looks like you want to learn.
“Do you want to try?” The slightly shorter brunette asks, her voice trying not to seem pressuring at all.
You think, looking at her fingers as she wipes it with a random brown napkin and throwing it away in the trash, “Okay,” your smooth voice responds before approaching beside her.
You use your index finger and place it under the blue raspberry one.
“This one?” Vada questions, when you nod she presses softly on the dispense button.
Your giggle from the icy cold makes her feel like the happiness she feels when she makes a small child laugh.
Vada turns to look at you and smiles, taking off her hand off the dispense button and watching you lick your fingers. (they were clean I promise)
“I like this one,” you say, making a small eye contact glance with her.
“Do you want it? I can pay.”
“It’s okay, I’ll see what’s at Mia’s home, I seriously don’t think I can finish the small one alone!”
-
Vada gets to know you more the more Mia invites you. She notices the way you open up, instead of trying to politely look out the window so you don’t disrupt conversations that you aren’t sure what their about, the car is lively,
Loud.
The music is always turned down now, giggles are filled, sometimes there are jokes about classes, teachers, people, the past.
Sometimes there are questions, family, hobbies.
Vada learns you have two siblings, a much younger and much older one, older brother, younger sister.
You like to read and write, play the guitar, bake, you love going on sunsetty and late night drives, it makes her interested in that part.
When you told her, a part of her wanted to tell you, ‘I like late night drives too.’ Maybe she’ll drive you around the freeway on a summer weekend in the future.
She likes the way you include her, how you always include people to make sure they never feel lonely.
She begins to notice the way your smiles aren’t shy anymore, they’re genuine. She can feel the way you’re opening up to her, from the way you look at her in a way she doesn’t remember. You look at her like she feels like she’s the only girl you’re looking at. She sees how your eyes soften in your irises the more you listen to her speak.
-
Vada never thought she’d experience jealousy for the first time in her life.
Sure she’s felt it before, when her fists clench when she had gotten second place when she was younger. It was like an ember. But this time, it was much stronger.
It was during some school event her high school came up with, couples day or what not.
You sat next to Vada and Nick during lunch, Mia with her friend group usually at this time. You were huddled up to Vada, munching on some chips with your hair up.
“Omph, I think jazz is better than rock honestly,” you say, muffled with chips in your mouth.
“Mmm, reasonable.”
After taking a long refreshing sip of water, you and Vada stand up.
“Nick, me and Y/N are gonna meet up Mia in the hallway, ‘kay? See you weirdo,” Vada walks along with you as you two laugh with each other over random gossip.
As you see Mia in the distance, wanting to wave her over, your friend Liam grabs you by the waist, his hands gentle, flowers in his hand.
You almost jump. You met Liam around the first week of school, he was sweet, gentle-man like. He offered to study with you in the library after school.
“Y/N, hey,” he says, his voice like syrup. Too sweet for your liking, “Sorry for pulling you away. I just wanted to tell you something.”
You saw how Vada stood on the side, awkwardly, not to mention how she was glaring at Liam.
You turn back to the curled hair blonde in front of you, “That’s ‘kay, what is it?”
Liam hands you the flowers he was holding, leaving you, almost confused, your face heating up.
“Look, I know I didn’t know you for long, but you’re sweet, you know? No one ever has to talk bad about you and to be in this school as a person like that is rare. I kind of, you know, like you. You’re pretty, really smart, and have a personality of gold. I know you don’t really like me, but I’d like to know what you think.”
You stare at the flowers held in your hands, your hands feel clammy.
“Liam.. This is really sweet. I appreciate.. You know, you thinking of me in that silver lighting. It honestly, in a sense, makes me feel proud. Thanks. I, I think I need some time, I never thought of you as the kind of person I’d be in a relationship with. But maybe with time if we get to know each other.. You know.. Gosh I’m sorry.” Your voice trails off, a tight smile on your lips, seeing the way Liam nodded immediately in understanding. You felt bad. Rejecting the sweetest boy you ever knew in this school, you just never saw him as something more than a brother.
“Don’t be sorry Y/N, that’s okay, I know what you mean, I just wanted to tell you before it got out of hand, but hey, now that I told you, as long as we stay friends that’s okay. That won’t change any friendship right?”
“I promise,” you assure, smiling a little.
Liam nods again, flowers in your hand as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and leans in to kiss your forehead.
He then walks away and you look down at the flowers in hand.
“Okay, that was cheesy as hell,” Vada says, her voice almost annoyed, maybe from waiting to see Liam’s monologue.
“I didn’t even know he felt that way about me.”
Vada rolls her eyes, “Of course you don’t,” you can’t help but feel almost hurt from her words. It’s like she was calling you oblivious, ignorant.
“Why would he even give you flowers? Gosh, he’s going wild for you, you barely even know him. He’s doing too much for someone like you right now,” she scoffed, slightly, not knowing why someone that you haven’t known for a while would give you flowers so early when you didn’t know him that well. But she worded it so wrongly.
Offended, almost wounded, insulted. Did Vada really think you were the kind of person no one would like? Did one of your closest friends find you in a sense, unlovable?
Vada saw the way your figure tensed, your eyes narrowing, before looking like they were about to cry.
Shit.
God she’s never seen you cry before. Vada felt her heart almost shatter, seeing the way your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. She didn’t mean it in a rude way, god now that she thinks about it, that’s one of the rudest things she could say.
She didn’t mean it, Vada doesn’t even know why she said it, maybe she just didn’t think Liam was right for you.
She felt jealousy, and she could feel it herself. Maybe she wanted a sweet guy too.
Or maybe she just wanted you.
“God Y/N, I didn’t mean-” Vada reaches her hand to your shoulder and immediately you shrug it off.
“You don’t think that I’m lovable enough to truly be loved, is that what it is Vada?” You say, your eyes sharp, “You don’t think I’m capable of deserve someone like Liam? How do you even see me?” You murmur, looking obviously, something Vada never wanted in the first place, in disbelief to even feel a tear slip down to your cheek.
“No, I swear I just-”
The bell had rang, and before she could try to apologize, and run after you, you squeezed into the crowd of people, heading for the class Vada knew was the only one you didn’t have with her.
Mia watched from a distance, seeing how tears poured from your eyes as you pushed through the crowds of people.
-
It’s tense, sort of, when Mia drives to her house.
You’re not talking to Vada, headphones are in, basically screaming that you’re closed off right now. Vada wants to talk to you, but she doesn’t know how to apologize for something she didn’t mean.
You look at the window outside and she feels like this might’ve gone back to stage one, it might take weeks for you to open up again.
But yet again, you’re Y/N, she knows you too well to know that you would never try to ignore her for that long.
Mia has to turn up the music again, something that hasn’t really happened for almost a few months, making small talk with Vada.
When you get to her house, Vada holds the door for you, you don’t look at her, just mumble a small, “thanks.”
“Shoot, sorry guys, if you guys are okay with staying here for half an hour or so, that’d be great. I completely forgot I had to stay after school and drop off one of my friends,” Mia immediately slaps her face, grabbing her bag for dance as she looks back, “Fridge is open if you guys want snacks, remote is in the cabinet under the couch, and all those joints ‘n stuff are in the back. K, love you, see ya,” Mia says, blowing a funny air kiss before shutting the door.
Now it’s awkward, out of all days of course Mia has a practice.
It’s quiet, your headphones are hung around your neck, kicking your feet against the carpet uncomfortably, you don’t know if you want to speak.
“Please, can you talk to me?” Vada pleads, making you almost flinch.
“I’m sorry for what I said today, I swear I didn’t mean it in a mean way towards you. I hope you know me well enough to know I would never mean it, okay? I was just getting a little upset over the fact guys would try asking girls out when they don’t know them that much, you know?.. Um.. Yeah. I guess I got a little overprotective. So I’m sorry. I hate when we don’t talk, it makes me feel like you hate me and stuff.”
You look at her, tugging your bottom lip between your lips, then you breathe, “I don’t hate you Vads. I promise. I just got a little taken aback and I honestly felt a little hurt from your words, especially since I knew you weren’t the kind of person to say those things in a mean manner. I forgive you. I really care about you, it was just weird today. I already felt bad rejecting a sweet boy I met and I wasn’t expecting to have my feelings hurt about it, I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I swear I didn’t, I just didn’t think Liam should’ve asked you so early, I didn’t even think you gave any signs.”
You giggle, making Vada’s shoulders relax from your icy facade beginning to melt, “You sound jealous.”
“Oh, nuh-uh.”
“Mm..” You mutter, not believing her, and making her groan.
Vada quickly changes the topic, realizing how red her face was.
“Do you wanna.. Um, go outside? Take a breather for a bit.”
“Okay.”
As you two close the sliding door, Vada sits down next to you, the silence is now comfortable. Her eyes begin to linger on the pack of cigars in front of her.
“I know you’re not the kind to smoke, but do you wanna share a blunt with me?” Vada asks, softly, it’s a question that you know if you say no, she’ll completely get it.
You hesitate, you never smoked before, let alone want to. But you look at Vada’s eyes and your head nods yes.
“Okay.”
You can see the excitement on her face, she makes a small squeal as she begins to roll the blunt, lighting it up with a lighter, you see her brush off some of the dust.
She places her lips on the cigarette, inhaling softly, before exhaling the smoke and a plethora of smoky fog wafts around you.
Her soft eyebrows raise, her eyes flicking to the blunt and your eyes, offering it to you.
Vada hears you breathe, she can almost feel your breath on her face as you look at the cigarette.
“A little help here?” You ask, voice tiny, shy.
“Okay baby,” Vada jokes, seeing the way your lips try not to smile, but fail miserably.
Vada scoots closer to you, so you two are huddled up and she takes your hand, “Okay, you always spin your led pencil in class, just hold the blunt similarly.” She feels the warmth of your hand and it makes her breath hitch. She puts the blunt between your index and middle finger, in which you make sure to hold with grip. Vada taps on your thumb, “Up,” her voice instructs, in which you support your thumb to hold it.
“Hey, now you got it!” she pats your shoulder, like a ‘yay’
She leans closer to you, your face is mere inches apart as she gently places the end of the cigarette in your mouth. Immediately the smoke fills your senses and you look at Vada, she coaxes you, “Inhale, not too much.” You inhale, wait for a moment, then exhale.
“There you go, you’re making me feel like a teacher Y/N,” she clicks her tongue.
She sees the way you exhale through your mouth, and the smoke fades in front of her face, you take another hit, this time you’re full on staring at Vada, with your doe eyes deep into hers.
The smoke wafts around her again, and when you pass it to her, you lean into her. Hearing how her breath hitches, your body pressed against her.
It goes like that for a while, puff, puff, pass. Where Vada offers the blunt to you, but instead of taking it with your finger, your lips part and your teeth nibble on the cigarette for a moment.
It’s like a game. She doesn’t know if it’s the humor you’ve grown, or the teasing. The teasing. But the way you make eye contact with her while your lips capture the blunt you two have shared makes her stomach stir.
While you smoke and you feel the ease of tranquility wash over your senses, Vada grabs some munchies, cookies, some donuts Mia bought the other day, and some potato chips.
She can’t see you. But she knows you’re staring at her, she can feel the way she senses she’s being watched.
You’re there, staring at her, looking down at her baggy clothing, then looking back up while she puts down the snacks. Your cheeks are flushed, you hear the way the music on your phone is beginning to fade, because you’re here, staring at her.
You think you may have taken too many hits, it’s a different kind of high. You just want to take the potato chips and grow wings. Fly away from this place and go to Italy.
Vada notices, you look spaced out, but you’re staring at her. Not as captivated as you were once before, so she nudges you and you immediately look back up at her. She’s high, she sees a glint in your mesmerizing eyes. A glint that makes her want to pull you closer.
“I feel high,” you state, you don’t notice how you sound till your speech is slurred.
“I think we’ve caught on to that,” Vada laughs, with a roll of her eyes as you snack on potato chips.
“I feel like you're prettyyy Vadss.. Pretty dope and badass,” you say, your fingers showing a peace sign and Vada busts out laughing.
“You have some nasty high that makes you use my kind of slang huh Y/N?”
You’re staring again, except the only difference now is she can tell what kind of stare it is. And this time it makes her feel weird, she can’t put her finger on it.
“Oh yeah, uh huh, yeppers,” you murmur, munching on potato chips and throwing it across the outside couch you sat on, “Can we have a cheese pizza instead with tickling my pickling pickle?..”
Flying. You feel like you’re flying, breathing out and in that smoke. Vada feels like she should be laughing but by the time she feels that she already is.
The cigarette in your hand gets twisted and her footsteps on it, cracking it.
“Think that’s enough for today Y/N, you’re not speaking from the heart.”
“Pickles?”
“No.”
“Dill.”
“No pickles!”
“Yes pickl-No!!!-okay..”
Finally, Vada drags you inside Mia’s house, carrying you to the couch and tossing you on it.
“WeeeEeeEEeEEE,” you’re acting silly. Vada has never seen this care-free, childish side in you.
“I think you’re gonna need to sleep this high off sleeping beauty.”
“I can’t sleeeeeep.”
“Well you need to sleep,” Vada forces, authority lacing her voice. You make a grumble.
“Okay fine,” the small cushion on the couch shifts from you moving around so much. Vada watches you in the corner of your eye, finding it a little cute the way you are right now.
She was going to buy some dill pickles while you closed your eyes, but you seemed like you couldn’t, making Vada sigh and approach you.
“Scooch,” her voice rings in your ears, rubbing your hair softly as you make a tired, grumpy sound and scoot a little, your body wrapped into a marshmallowy blanket.
She doesn’t think she would do this, but if she can make you shut up a little bit, and feel your warmth, maybe it’ll be okay. The shorter brunette feels the way you curl into her body and melt like putty. She doesn’t think much of it, what you two are sharing right now.
Vada feels fond, to let you feel safe in her arms, is something she will always cherish.
Her voice hushes you, pressing her lips to your forehead, while you murmur about pickles. The whispers begin to die down, like the ending of a symphony. She cuddles you, you nudge your nose into her chest, “Don’t go Vads..” your voice is barely heard, but she can hear it, “Stay.”
“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky,” her pinky raises up and interlocks with yours.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Now sleep angel,” her voice is teasing, but part of it she feels like you’ve grown on her, this childish side that she finds sweet.
You don’t respond, of course you don’t, because as soon as she looks down at you asleep on her chest. And by the time she can even process, Vada is asleep with you.
Mia comes home seeing you two sleep together, taking 5 photos and even having the time to take 2 polaroid pictures of you two wrapped into each other.
“Those two are going to be together soon.”
-
It’s the fourth time you’ve watched Shrek in film class. 4 damn times for 2 months.
Vada is starting to tick, you giggle at it. But she finds Shrek so iconic, she can’t bring herself to hate it. Well for now.
“I fucking feel like I can actually memorize each line by now,” she mutters, it makes you and Mia laugh even harder.
“Why doesn’t Ms. Valentina choose the movies after that? It’s always just Shrek 1.”
Vada doesn’t even know by now.
The lights turn off, the only sunshine you can see is from the warmth of the sun that creeps into the blinds. The best part of having film in this period is that she always has it first on Fridays. Which means when the light switches turn off, it’s the queue where everyone pushes the desks and gets comfy, the desks stay on the side for the rest of the day.
After grunts and small clatter of water bottles falling down from people pushing the desks, everyone crawls to their spot in their own little friend group they have.
Vada already has the couch in the back of the classroom reserved, she doesn’t give no shits, if she’ll fight for it she will.
You find it a little funny, since you remember how people stopped trying to fight, she’s persistent.
She pats the seat next to her and you sit next to her. Mia sits next to you.
And for the rest of the period you three gossip, curl into each other, and chatter.
-
Once again, at the end of the school day, you, Vada, and Mia are laying together on the couch with several blankets and stuffed animals stacked on top of each other.
“Pass the popcorn please,” you nudge Mia, who’s holding the large popcorn box filled with buttery popcorn (that she kept when she ordered a jumbo sized popcorn box from the movies, that cost 10 damn dollars.) Mia passes it to Vada, which munches on a handful, then hands it to you. Of course with you ending up with some popcorn thrown into your hair.
You happy snack on the popcorn, munching and crunching. Vada and your hands dig into the bottom with the richer buttered popcorn. The brunette’s cheeks feel warm from feeling your hand. Maybe from the blanket. Maybe from the heat of the popcorn. Or maybe something else.
Mia regrets asking Vada for a movie recommendation. As soon as she sees Vada search up ‘Sh’ on the search bar, she groans, seeing how Vada clicked Shrek.
For the second, fucking, time, today.
As the movie begins to roll, the blonde whispers, “If I have children, I’m never gonna let them watch this. It’s been playing way more than enough and I am not risking having to play it every morning when I’m older.”
Vada snorts, “I’m going to tell your children that it’s a great movie, so great that they’ll play it morning and night.”
It goes like that for the next 30 minutes, you two are snug, with a fluffy weighted blanket draped over the three of you as the movie continues.
As the forty five minute mark surpasses, Vada is distracted in the movie. She’s seen it 4 times, yet she’s still watching it. She feels a faint pressure press against her shoulder, she brushes it off, she knows that it’s her brain signaling her to stop watching the movie.
She doesn’t.
But as the minutes pass, the pressure stays, if not stronger.
She feels curious, turning her head away from the projector to find you asleep peacefully on her shoulder. Vada’s eyes soften at the sight of your lips parted, gentle breaths blowing on her neck from your lips and the white of the blanket covering your chin. You’re asleep, and it brings her back to you two asleep on each other the other day. But this time it feels different. You two aren’t high.
You were curled up to her, with your legs tucked and faced to the edge of the couch. She’s seen you asleep before, when you were so tired one hung out that Mia lent you your room. Vada only peeked inside to see you asleep and still like a rock. You aren’t the kind to fall asleep easily, let alone snore. But Vada could hear a soft snore fall from your lips.
Vada can’t help it, but she feels a grin trying to form on her face, as you curl up to her, she tucks a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Now your hair is draped all over her shoulders, she sniffs it, nudging her nose to your hair. Your shampoo smells again like strawberries.
Except this time it smells more intoxicating.
It smells so lightly sweet. But it makes her feel dizzy, her nose to the top of your head, relying on your scent to comfort her.
You shift lightly, a soft murmur being made as your eyes slightly twitch, but fall asleep just as fast when she takes a strand of hair in her fingertips and curls it.
As you're asleep and Vada is focused on you, Mia mumbles against her, quiet enough to not wake you. The TV was already loud enough, plus you were all the way in the corner.
“You like Y/N,” she says, and it wasn’t an opinion, it was a rhetorical statement.
Vada slows down with her fingers curling in your hair, turning to face Mia.
She feels a stutter get caught into her throat, “Uh, w-wait what?”
“You like Y/N,” she says again, her blue eyes looking at Vada, searching for an answer. An answer she already knew, she just needed to hear it from her.
“N-no, what? Mia, what makes you think that?”
It sounds stupid to the blonde, a small laugh coming from her, she speaks quieter so you can’t hear her, although you’re knocked off asleep.
“Well, to start off, since she stepped into our film class for the first day, you couldn’t stop staring at her Vads. And when I invited her so we could get to know her better, I’ve never seen you so quiet with someone until you met her. You’re always so open to meeting new people. At first, I thought you were nervous,” Mia laughs, finding it almost unbelievable when she says it out loud, “and never thought the Vada Cavell would be nervous to meet new people. But you look at her like the missing puzzle piece you’ve taken years to find. You look at her like she’s given you the light to your universe.”
Vada wants to roll her eyes, tell Mia how insane she is, she wants to throw her hands in the air. But she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to wake you up, she just wants to press her lips to your forehead and tell you that everything is okay when you wake up.
But it all comes down at her at once. She can’t believe it herself. Well she knew she felt something. The the way she sees things now. Where she’d walk into a library filled with books and think, “Y/N would love it here.” Or when she’d smell the aroma in the air when Amelia and her mother would bake cookies together, and can’t help, but think about you.
Mia herself has a guitar, and when there are days when you can’t make it, Vada spends two hours as her best friend talks to her to practice. So maybe one day, when she sees you pull out her guitar, she’ll say, “I can play it too.”
And when your pretty eyes already reveal the yearn you feel to hear her play, she’ll play all the songs that she’s practiced while she eagers you to cuddle up to her. Then you’ll realize they are all your favorite songs. Because Vada spent every two hours when you’re not there to practice for you.
She hears Mia keep speaking, “You bring her up every time you can, okay? You’re reminded of her everywhere you go, and I’ve never seen you or her look at someone the way you do with each other. Remember that day you two first met? The whole car rode to seven eleven, you were staring at her staring at the window.”
“You’re falling for her day by day Vada,” Mia says, and the brunette can see the way Mia begins to smile, “You just don’t notice it until you realize how much she means to you. You used to refuse to take the extra guitar I had, but when you saw the way she played riffs, you took it and played songs that you knew one day you would want to play for her.”
Mia pauses, then speaks again, “You should’ve seen how shattered she was when you grew over protective of her and said some things that came out wrong. You didn’t see the way as soon as she left for 5th period she was going to cry. Come on, and you two fucking fell asleep with each other. It’s like I’m reading the slowest burn wattpad book in reality.”
The shorter girl is still stroking through your hair, as you’re asleep with soft snores coming out of your mouth every once in a while, still trying to process something she knew was true for a long time.
Vada doesn’t want to admit it, but she exhales a breath she didn’t know she was holding, “I don’t know. I just feel really fond of her I guess. She’s grown really special to me and I think she’s someone I never knew I needed in my life. She’s there to you know, listen. Or be open to whatever..” Vada plays with the string of her oversized shorts while letting you nuzzle to her neck. “I guess she’s more important to me than I thought.”
Mia silently squeals, nudging Vada’s shoulder, “You can’t not convince me she likes you too, okay? Now you better fucking confess or I’m going to do a backflip and crack your neck open.”
-
Vada hasn’t felt nervous since she met you, but today she was nervous nervous. She bought sky blue, pink, ivory, and sweet apple tulips.
It feels so cheesy, but she’s fucking here for it.
She prepares a basket with everything she knows about you, lego flowers, a cow stuffy with some random coquette bow attached to it, (that she may have not asked your older brother what animal you liked.) As soon as she shopped, the cute little cow with the laced bow wrapped around it was calling for her.
She fills the basket with kisses, tears off the most beautiful, raw pieces of poetry, she read and thought of you. She tears the extra copies of the songs she played on the guitar because of you, and adds it as scraps.
And of course, she adds small fairy lights, then attaches all the photos she has with you. She has never been more thankful for Mia always taking 2 polaroids whenever you take one together, so she can keep one and add it to her memory book.
She’s anxious, picking at her fingers, it’s like when she first experienced the shooting. Except this is a hundred times worse.
Mia drops her off Saturday morning, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “The worst she can say is no,” and by the way Vada clenches the basket she has for you, Mia quickly adds, “Which is a .00001% chance. Trust me, I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
Vada rolls her eyes, clearly not helping easing her anxiety as she closes the door and approaches your door, knocking softly.
When it’s open, she’s greeted with the sight of a newly awoken you, looking sleepy, but she thinks it makes you even cuter.
You’re wearing the plaid pants she lent you, she remembers you couldn’t stop wearing it because it was so comfy. She let you have her extra fourth pair. She found it funny whenever she saw you waddling around in her oversized clothes.
“Mhh..” You keep rubbing your eyes, a yawn escaping out of you, “Vads it’s 8AM on a Saturday morning, what’s going o-” you finally open your eyes to have a nervous fidgety Vada with tulips, some Valentine's day throwup basket and a heart shaped balloon.
Vada takes a deep breath before pushing the tulips towards your way, “Okay, Y/N, I don’t know what to say. But I wanted to tell you for a while now. I notice the way I bring you up everyday, or how long my gaze lingers when you’re in the same room as me. Or how I find a way to bring our friendship up every second I can. I’ve grown the motivation to do the hobbies I’ve seen you once do. And.. I’m not the person to.. Get nervous when I meet people for the first time. But, you’ve been someone who I feel protective over, and you’re special to me in a way where you’re someone I didn’t ever think I needed in my life. But meeting you has really made you be the highlight of my day. I didn’t think it was possible to feel butterflies, let alone these fluttering sparks when you’re near. Or to realize the feelings I felt when Liam gave you flowers and wanted to ask you out was jealousy. It just feels right to have you with me, here. You’ve really distracted me from all the things I’ve found stressful, and no one has ever been able to do that. I didn’t even think it was possible. I-I don’t even know how, but it was like some invisible string tied us when I met you, but I’m so thankful you’re in my life. And it’s so weird to say this now..”
Vada pauses, catching her breath and trying not to make eye contact with you, but she can see your cheeks getting rosy. Your hands are full with her flowers. You certainly don’t look awkward like you once did with Liam. More like, overly shy now. You’re blushing. And this time your hands don’t feel clammy. This time, you’re so desperate to feel her hands on your waist and have your hands tucked around her to hug her.
Vada gulps and blurts out almost too quickly to comprehend, “But I like you. Will you go out for dinner with me this Friday night? I get if you don’t feel the same, and I just want you to know I don’t want our friendship to be ruined at all but-”
“Vada, I’d love to go out with you.” You interrupt, wanting her to shut up and kiss you. To do all the sweet things you thought of when you smoked with her, to fly with her and carry her home.
“R-really? You’re not just saying that?”
“No. I think.. I don’t know, I think we’ve grown really really close, in a way where I never had someone that I could rely on so much. I really didn’t think meeting you could, you know, make my day a hundred times better, and I always felt confused with my feelings, you know? In a way where I feel like friends shouldn’t feel the sweet way I think about you?”
“Yeah..” Vada murmurs, “Yeah,” she says, more understanding.
She turns to you, you look like spring. The season, with your hands filled with flowers, your hair perfectly ruffled and your hair curling in your ends. Vada speaks again, “Do you want to give us a try? You know, I just don’t ever want us to not be friends one day because we didn’t work out.”
“Please,” you whisper, and when you say that she immediately pulls you in for a hug.
This hug is just as comforting as all the other ones she’s given you in the past. But now, the thought of this hug being something more isn’t there anymore. Because it is something more. It makes you bury your nose into her chest.
Mia smiles in the distance, snapping a photo of you two hugging, “Those two love birds, I called it.”
-
Friday night
Here you are, in a black dress you remember you fell in love with when you went shopping. It was a simple dress where your shoulders were exposed, a laced neck and you put on some hoops.
The dress was not too short, but it stopped a little before your knees.
And of course, a string tying the prettiest bow on the back of your waist, you didn’t want to admit it, but you felt pretty when you looked at the mirror.
Your mother dropped you off outside of the restaurant Vada reserved.
She kisses your cheek goodbye, winking for good luck as you wave and watch her go. Now you kind of regret not bringing a jacket. You should’ve brought the leather one you were thinking about at the last minute, and decided not to.
Your headphones are plugged in, you’re 15 minutes early, and as the minutes tick, you feel colder from the sun beginning to set.
Cologne by beabadoobee is playing, you ruffle your curled hair, till you feel the music abruptly stop and your headphones being wrapped around your neck.
You can hear Vada’s voice, ruffling your hair, “Hi,” she says, not more awkward than you feel right now. You feel her gaze linger on your figure, and suddenly you feel hot, the cold you felt 5 minutes ago was completely gone.
She rubs your shoulders, and you can tell what you’re wearing just made her fall much more for you.
What she’s wearing is not Vada. Not her basketball shorts and oversized tees. This is Vada, in all black with the lightest makeup, you can still see the freckles you love. Her hair is half up half down, and you brush her bangs to the side.
“Vads,” you breathe, and the way you call her that makes her heart pound ferociously, “You look pretty.”
“I tried my best, how do I look, silly pretty girl?” Vada twirls her dress, making you laugh.
“Like something Vada would never wear, but I love it.”
“You’re the one to talk, all soft and shy girl wearing something that I would definitely not stop staring at this whole evening. It’s perfect. You’re perfect, come on Y/N,” she tugs your wrist slightly, noticing how your wrists are decorated with the bracelets you two made together in the past. It makes her smile while she points at it, “Good decoration choice.”
“Only for the best.”
As you two enter the restaurant, you reach for Vada’s hand, she can see the way you’re searching for her. Like a puppy whining for its mother. She drifts her hand towards you and interlaces it with yours.
The place is dimly lit. The only light is from the sunsetty view and the fairy lights that are hung.
It’s romantic.
And you feel all blushy, like some teenage girl in a friends to lovers book.
Vada feels the way you grasp onto her hands, your fingertips squeezing, she can already tell you’re nervous, she calms you down with a circle with her thumb on the back of your palm.
You two sit next to each other, looking at the menu.
It’s getting a little cold, and you shift, “Okay, not to ruin the mood, but I have no clue what in the hell I should get,” Vada laughs, the Y/N humor she knew was clearly showing.
“What about we share some alfredo and their bread? Their bread is so filling and to die for.”
You nod, to go with the flow, “Okay Vads, whatever you think is good must be yummy.”
You two order and spend the time talking, by the next 15 minutes of waiting, you’re cuddled into her, playing with her hair.
“Hey, you’re messing my hair up silly.”
“I like playing with it. It’s very smooth!”
Vada presses her lips to your temple, rubbing your cheeks to make your blush more apparent.
“Stop that.”
“Well I think it’s cute when your face is all pink.”
You make a quiet whine, Vada still smells your toasted marshmallow and strawberry scent. The scent she could never get tired of. The intoxicating sweetness.
A few moments later with cuddles and talks, your food arrives and you share the noodles, digging in. Vada drapes your hair back so it won't fall into the sauce. As you eat and munch, Vada twirls the noodles on her fork and brings it to your lips, looking into your eyes. You look back up at her, feeling tiny as you open your mouth and she feeds you. You feed her back, letting her rub the small speck of sauce on your cheek with her thumb.
“Stop being so shy,” Vada whispers, nudging your nose to hers.
“I’m just nervous, I’ve never done this before,” you whisper back.
“Well, it’s just me, nothings gonna change, I swear, maybe I’ll throw more pillows during pillow fights though,” she jokes, and that makes you nuzzle your nose more to hers.
You press your lips to her cheek and continue snacking on bread rolls and dessert.
-
“The stars are really bright today,” you say, your hand in Vadas as you two are staring at the scene above you, the sunset long gone and replaced with the light from the moon.
“Wellll, I think that just means that we’re amazing for each other, huh?”
“Maybe.”
“Nope, it’s a yes.”
“Yep.”
The heat you felt when you first saw Vada when your date began was gone, you were cold. No doubt did the girl not notice, seeing your slightly trembling figure. She drapes her leather jacket over you as you make a small noise of appreciation, sniffling your nose. The jacket immediately warms you up, you pull it to your shoulders more.
Her soft eyes look down at you, and she sees the way the stars reflect off your eyes, those eyes. She feels lucky to be able to be greeted by them every single day you’re around.
“Thank you for today,” you finally breathe, and Vada boops your nose.
“Well thank you for always being sweet and silly. I wouldn’t trade this moment for anyone else.”
You boop her nose back, sharing a slurpee that of course you got from seven eleven. It brings her deja vu. To remember how you first politely refused on buying a slurpee when you first met Vada. Then beginning to use the trick she taught you to poke your finger under the dispenser and lick your finger. Then buying your own small slurpee. Then to share it with one straw.
As you two reach her house, she twirls you on the porch and lifts you up, making you squeal and giggle. It’s quiet, comfortable silence as she looks down at your lips. And she knows you want her too. Your legs wrap around her, and you lean and press your lips to hers.
She feels sparks and a flock of butterflies stirring in your stomach when you’re around, but as she feels your soft, warmth of your lips on hers, she feels fireworks. Electricity shocking her whole body. She hears you make a soft moan of longing, something you wanted for so long. She wanted you for so long too. Her lips press against yours more, feeling your desperateness as she leans more pressure onto you. You taste like sweet strawberries, indulging on the way you make a noise of wanting more more more of her lips as her tongue runs over your bottom lip.
You both pull away, panting, cheeks flushed, your body feels like it’s flaming into oblivion, she grabs your waist tightly, then a small smile forms on both of your faces.
“I’m pretty sure you kiss during like.. Your fourth date.”
“Oh,” Vada says, faking to look sad before cracking up a grin, “Oh well, we’re too in love with each other and we broke that! Too bad, so sad.”
You giggle as she twirls you around and brings you into her room, kissing your neck along the way, she tosses you into the bed and you squeal, kicking your legs as she crawls next to you.
“Come here,” she whispers, you scoot closer to embrace and she wraps her arms around you, switching the fireplace on and playing some music in the background.
She spoons you, but you turn your front to be pressed to her chest, feeling her kisses on your neck and her fingers ghosting along your jawline.
“Pretty girl,” she coos, seeing the way you were a little tired, “Sleepy?”
“Yes.”
You bury your nose into her, her sweet, musky, coconut scent comforts you. The way your scent mixes and it just smells so… Your eyes are fluttering before you can come up with a thought. You stir in Vada’s arms, feeling her arms wrapped around your waist and your limbs tangled together.
“Don’t let go, stay,” you whisper, like you once did before in the past.
“I won’t, pinky promise, I’ll be here baby. Go to sleep, okay?”
You both begin to fall asleep, with polaroids hanging off you wrapped around vines around Vada’s bed. There was one with you two holding slushies and showing off your purple tongues, another one with you two in a group photo, one that Vada loved the most, where you two were cuddling.
miaa: you owee meee omg u guys r adorable, update me tmmrw vads
Your pinkies interlock and your cuddle up to her. She can see the way your eyes twitch from closing. She knows you’re asleep when she hears your breathing begin to even out. And she definitely knows she’s your comfort, because a soft snore slips out of you no longer than 5 minutes later.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x fem!reader#tara carpenter x reader#vada cavell x reader#jenna ortega imagine#tara carpenter x you#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega x y/n#vada cavell x y/n
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in my dreams you love me back (i still love you)
↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
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summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.
tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.
notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune
"You look like shit."
You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.
"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"
You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."
You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."
"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."
"Shoko!"
But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"
"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."
As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.
"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."
"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.
"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."
He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.
When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.
"Hey, is everything okay? I-"
Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"
Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"
The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.
Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.
Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.
Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?
"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.
He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.
Suguru,
My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you?
Why did you leave me?
What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why
My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?
I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.
I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.
Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.
Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.
Another.
I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.
Another.
I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.
More. More. More.
I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?
He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.
I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.
I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.
I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.
I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.
It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.
It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.
Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.
"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"
"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."
Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?
"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"
The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"
Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"
Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"
Stunned, you can only nod.
"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.
"Where was the dress?"
From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?
"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.
What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?
White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.
So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.
Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-
Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.
"I missed you."
Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."
"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.
"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."
#haerinwrites#idol!satoru gojo#rockstar!suguru geto#satoru gojo x reader#satosugu x reader#jjk angst#jjk x reader#suguru geto x reader#satoru x suguru x reader#satoru x reader#suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo
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Mirrorball | John Price x F!Reader
a/n: me?? posting??? in this economy?? unheard of. this is definitely not me writing needy price whaaaat
warnings: mentions of injury, trauma
summary: You’re trying to sleep, but someone wakes you up with a long awaited phone call. OR, John’s outside of your door, begging for forgiveness.
It was a work day tomorrow and someone had the audacity to call you in the middle of the night. Your eyes tried to blink away the murkiness of sleep as you answered the call, not even paying attention to the ‘Unknown Caller’ blinking at the top of the screen.
“Hey.”
Your head fell back into your pillow, your hand holding your phone to your ear.
“Yes, John.”
“Don’t be that way.”
Your hand gripped your phone a little more, now that you were waking up more.
“Well, seeing that it’s…” You pulled the phone from your ear, looking at the time on the screen, “2:45 in the morning on a Tuesday, you’re only calling ‘cause you’re bored.”
There was a scoff on the line. “Why can’t you just accept that maybe I’m worried about you?”
Your eyes were still closed, your eyebrows furrowed and you mumbled, “Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.”
There was silence. Just the warmth that flooded through your chest every time you heard his low breathing; a signal, a waypoint, your reminder that no matter how much you want to turn away, there’s no escape from your desperate need for John Price. Your fingernails dug into your pillowcase, tears that have broken glass now soak the silk underneath your head. You could almost smell the rich tobacco that seemed to envelop his clothes and his worn skin - he was the feeling of sunlight reflected on shattered glass. Shining just for you.
You could imagine his hand curling your hair behind your ear, his soft lips pressing kisses into your hairline, your shoulder, your spine. You had memorized the way his hand would gently graze over your side, featherlight movement as he would whisper his promises, his mantras, but ignore your desires.
“M’here.”
Even in your half-asleep state, you felt a rush of confusion.
“You were in Afghanistan last night.”
“I lied.”
“You seem to do that often, John.”
Silence again. Your eyes opened to your dimly light room, the small light plugged into your wall helped you make out everything in your room. The jacket of his that still was tossed over the back of your favorite chair, most of his clothes hung in your closet - deep browns and dreary grays that were pressed against your bright blues, greens, and yellows. His breathtaking fiancé dressed in all of the colors that made you feel happy - but all were a farce, a lie wrapped up in a fairy tale. You weren’t happy. How could you be happy when your whole world decided to break your heart?
“Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up, John. I mean it.”
Silence. You could hear the quiet bustle of Liverpool outside your window, the street lamp’s warm light hidden by your dark curtains. Curtains he used to move at this time of night to open your window, he would burn the end of his cigar and watch the city lights.
Now, he stood outside your front door, without even a knock.
“What I did to you wasn’t right, I knew that then and I know that now. Screaming at you and telling you I never wanted to see you again was the biggest mistake of my life. I love you. And love isn’t supposed to be like that. I-I was… I was scared. I am scared. I’m scared of what you think of me, I was scared of what almost happened to me, I’m terrified to lose you.”
“Stop.”
“Please. I’m here.”
“What do you want, John?”
“I want come home.“
Another pause.
“Please let me in.”
Your stomach lurched.
You hated that you sat up, lethargic body dragged behind your mind as you silently made your way to your front door; cold phone pressed to your ear. He was a warm light, you were like a late night moth - hearing the familiar hum of one John Price.
“I’ll do anything, love. Please.”
You stretched your arms as you stood on your tallest tip toes, it reminded you of spinning on your highest heels, just for him. You could remember his hands, gentle on your hand and waist as he had laughed deeply in that ballroom all those years ago. The way his touch never differed from anything gentle or soft, even as he held your hips in late nights, pulling loud moans and cries from you as he fucked you passionately. The way he whispered your name like gospel as you sobbed into his chest. It was impossible to forget what he’s done for you - and what actions he made that caused you pain.
He was made of a broken spotlight, his light reflected on you. Your mirror pieces had fell long ago, your fingers still bleed from picking up your shards, from pressing them into place so when he came around, you would reflect his slowly dimming light just like a mirror ball.
Your hand pulled open the door, gazing at the man you so painstakingly loved - face dirty, scarf disheveled around his neck, beanie snug on his head. You didn’t care that his rough hands gripped your hips, metaphorically pressing in the glass shards like always. He pulled you to him, your face landed in his scarf as he wrapped you in his freezing embrace. You moved to rest your chin on top of the scratchy wool, your lips right next to his ear.
“Are you hurt?”
He walked both of you into the apartment, skillfully kicking the door closed as he held you tighter. A fist on your lower back, a steel grip on your shoulder as his nose was firmly pressed into your (bonnet/hair). You could feel his chest, how it didn’t dare expand - he was holding his breath. As if he let you slip, that the mirrorball he adored would shatter into a thousand pieces. Your hand pushed into the back of his ribcage, moving in soothing circles.
“Breathe, John.”
You expected a harsh exhale, something loud in your ear, but all you received was a soft sigh through his nose. The freezing clothes that clung to him began to warm, his heartbeat erratic - you could feel it in his back, right behind his heart.
“Are you hurt?” You asked again.
He didn’t answer, silence was his weapon of choice now. He was full of words on the phone, telling you things you wished to hear earlier - oh shit, your phone. The phone you dropped on the floor before opening the door, hopefully it wasn’t broken. You had so many of him on there. So many photos of him hanging off your arm, lips pressed against your soft skin, eyes gazing lovingly at you.
“What do you need?”
You need me. I know you like the back of my hand.
That’s when he let go, pulling away from you to show fresh tears on his flushed face. Your eyes widened with concern, you tried to reach his face but his hands intercepted yours - holding them with a firm grip.
“I don’t need you to forgive me.” His voice was melancholy, a melody of grief and fear that you had never heard before. “I am an awful man. Rubbish. I hurt the one good thing in my life because I thought you hating me would be easier for me to die with.”
Your stomach coiled up into a knot, tight and uncomfortable.
Your fiancé held back a sob as he spoke, “I got hit. I almost died, all I could think about was how much you would hate yourself because I made you hate me. I don’t want that. I want to be by your side forever, I want you to put me in my place, I want you to take everything from me because I am not worthy of anything without you.” His hands squeezed yours. “I want to lay beside you for as long as I live. I want to only know you for the rest of my life. I want to do everything you ask of me.”
“What do you need, John?” Your voice softer than ever before.
He blinked away tears. “I need you to teach me how to truly be a better man. I need you to guide me. I need you to love me. I need you.”
You had told yourself a thousand times that he would never crawl on his knees to you, that his pride would destroy you, that he would never show weakness to you - but here he was. Showing his belly, giving you the chance to deliver the final blow.
You supposed he was waiting for it. Waiting for your teeth to sink in and rip him apart like a chew toy, scream at him until your voice ran hoarse, push him away until he fell onto his ass. But… you couldn’t. You were ready to walk away from him ten minutes ago, but now it’s… terrifying. Walking away from the one thing keeping you whole.
You squeezed his hands. “Marry me, John Price.”
His eyebrows furrowed, he was about to question you. But you spoke again. “Marry me today and show me that all that you said was a promise.”
He didn’t nod for long as he let go of your hands, grabbed your face and kissed you - pushing your head backwards as he pressed his entire body to you. You didn’t care anymore if he cut himself on your glass, you were sure he would fix the edge just to keep you happy.
Keep you spinning like his favorite mirrorball, shining just for him.
Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.
#lethalchiralium#keri writes#call of duty#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#john price x female reader#john price x f!reader#captain price#captain price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x female reader#captain price x f!reader#captain john price x female reader#captain john price x f!reader
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During the healing process, Whumpee needed many things, both for physical and mental healing. What are they?
Rest. Of course. There is no need to explain anymore. A good rest would restore Whumpee's body and mind after all his stress and suffering.
Calmness. From the environment and the people around Whumpee. Apart from the hospital, an isolation house far from the hustle and bustle of the chaotic city would be a good place to support Whumpee's recovery. Maybe a Caretaker's house would be better.
Medical. Medication is consumed to support healing (antibiotics, vitamins, painkillers, etc.). Medical equipment was used during the treatment and healing period. Professional medical personnel will care for Whumpee until he is completely healed.
Foods high in nutrition. Of course, it's easy to digest. Healthy food usually doesn't taste good, but it's the Caretaker's job to make the food able to whet Whumpee's appetite.
Water. There is no need to ask. Hydration is very important for Whumpee's body as it recovers.
Snack. Taking medicine every day definitely makes Whumpee bored. A little snack will help. The cookies, candy, or chocolate that Whumpee eats after swallowing the bitter medicine will make him smile.
Fresh air and morning sunshine. Many people say that fresh air and morning sunlight are also good medicine for recovery. Taking a breath and basking in the cool of the morning would be great for Whumpee.
Clean clothes. Replace every two times a day.
Bathe. Bathing in the morning and evening makes the body fresh and clean. Maybe at first, Caretaker won't immediately pour water but will wipe Whumpee's body with soapy water.
Straighten hair. Maybe cut it when Whumpee starts to get better. Apart from making it look fresher, Whumpee will also feel comfortable.
Comfort items. Plusies, stuffed animals, pillows, blankets, photos, scent, or anything else that can keep Whumpee calm and comfortable during the recovery period.
A change of scenery during recovery will also be helpful. Occasionally moving Whumpee to the living room, sitting him in the dining room, accompanying him on the terrace, or taking him to sit on the grass in the garden will make Whumpee feel better.
Light and pleasant conversation. Don't expect to be able to interrogate Whumpee during the recovery period if you don't want to be shouted at by Caretaker.
Touch. Whumpee is definitely touch-starved. A holding hand, a caress on the cheek, a stroking of the hair, a light kiss on the forehead, a hug, or a backrest when sitting will be what Whumpee really needs.
Calming sentences. Simple sentences that make Whumpee feel safe, such as "It's okay, you're safe", "I'm here", "no one will hurt you anymore", "I will take care of you", "it was just a dream, it's all over", "just rest, don't think about anything", "go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up", "you did a good job", "I'm proud of you", "thank you for coming back to me," "I'm happy you are here," "I love you," and others.
Caretaker. There is no need to ask. Caretaker is the "medicine" that Whumpee needs most for his healing.
Anything you want to add?
#whumpee#caretaker#whump#caretaking#whumpee x caretaker#caretaker x whumpee#whump writing#whump scenario#recovery whump#whump dialogue#medical whump#whump comfort#whump prompt#whumpblr#whump tropes#whump recovery#comfort whump
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Let me taste you
This is smut so please MDNI
Warnings: smut, face sitting cocky Konig she/her reader pronouns kinda self insert
This is the first time in years that I've written smut so bear with me.
I hope you enjoy!!!
He knew it was wrong but by the gods he couldn't help himself. She looked too sweet walking around wearing a short summer dress. She had invited him over to watch a movie after he'd just come back from deployment. One could argue that it was simply the adrenaline that hadn't completely left his system. Or it was because all of her soft curves were on display being hugged by the soft material of her dress. God it would look even better bunched up around her waist as she bounced on his cock. Fuck he had to calm down. She was his neighbour, his sweet shy neighbour who baked cookies and collected succulents. He shouldn't be having these thoughts.
Konig continues to watch her as she bustles around in the kitchen grabbing snacks for their movie night.
You throw the last pillow onto the couch before beckoning Konig closer. You smile as you see him sit on your couch. He takes up almost all of the space leaving only a little room for you,not that you really mind.
You like being close to him. Always touching him in some way. Movie nights always left you painfully turned on from being so close to the very large and very handsome man. He was always so thoughtful helping you whenever you asked, there were plenty of times that you wanted to say something about how you feel about him but every time you would stop yourself out of fear of rejection.
You're halfway into the movie zoning out before you realise you're almost sitting on his lap having thrown your feet over his thighs in order to get comfortable. You make a move to get off but he stops you before you get the chance to move. He looks at you intensely slowly taking notice of the blush covering your cheeks and the way your pupils have dilated
"Enjoying the movie mein schatz"? His voice sounds deeper than usual but still has a teasing tone to it. You're just about to answer before you hear the actors on screen moan. You're blushing you can feel it turns out you didn't pay attention to what movie you had put on.
You want to say something but your voice is gone. You quickly shift trying to get off before you and Konig simultaneously freeze you brushed against his cock which was definitely not soft.
Konig was still laughing while you wriggled out of his grasp when your leg brushed up against him; he didn't have time to register that he all but moaned when that happened, too caught up in trying to read you when he saw your eyes widen at the realisation that he was hard.
You both stare at each other, your leg still very close to Konigs aching member. "The uh movie must have gotten you riled up a bit huh"? You cringe at your choice of words god he's probably embarrassed and now you made it worse by opening your big mouth.
Konig is silent, staring at you as he thinks about what to do or say. He's about to play it off and just laugh and say yes it was the movie before he catches your thighs subtly rubbing together
Fuck it he thinks."It's you Libeling you made me hard you got me "riled up" wearing that short dress and showing off your gorgeous body"
His words catch you off guard there is no way this man got turned on by you. As if reading your mind Konig pulls you so that you're sitting in his lap legs on either side of him and your pussy is right on top of his cock. It takes everything in you not to grind down on him to feel that delicious friction. But you manage to hold back.
"I've been wanting you for months,schatz do you know how hard it is not to rip off your pretty little dresses and take you right then and there"?
"Konig please" you mewl put his name fuck your wet from just a little bit of dirty talk and literally just sitting on his clothed dick.
The tension he had been feeling for months finally snaps the moment your pretty begging hits his ears. He surges forward kissing you and pulling you impossibly close to him. It's a heady collision of passion between you two. You kiss and kiss tongues twisting together breaths mingling as you give into one another. You pull away absolutely breathless as he moves kissing down your neck pulling the straps off you dress down so he can plant kisses on your tits. He starts sucking each one with vigour alternating between kissing and sucking to twisting and pulling them till you're a moaning mess.
He stops suddenly and you whine at the loss of his mouth on you.
He shifts until he's laying down on the couch with you being pulled up to sit on his chest.
"Let me taste you liebling, be good for me and ride my face". You look at his face flushed, his chest is rising and falling rapidly and he looks like he wants to devour you. How can you say no?
You quickly take off your panties before moving up to hover over his face. His pupils are blow wide you can barely make out the small ring of blue in his eyes. "Are you sure,I don't want to hurt you? '' You've always been subconscious about your weight and you were scared you might hurt him.
"Please Schatz ride my face let me taste you"
You don't have time to argue before he pulls you down and starts licking you with abandon
His hands keep you in place and you can only stay there and take the assault on your pussy. Konig sucks and licks your clit causing you to clutch the couch for support.
He moans when you grab his hair grasping it gently as he slowly starts to fuck into your tight hole with his tongue. It feels so good and it's not long before he pulls a mindblowing orgasm from you. As you try to pull away he pulls you back down starting all over again. He eventually helps you get to your second climax when he moves your hips making you grind yourself against his face. The noises are obscene and filthy from the wet sounds from how he eats you out to your moans and his groans only getting louder as you climb to yet another orgasm.
He lets up a little gently pushing you up so he can insert a finger into you. He keeps licking and sucking and with the added fingers you come again seeing stars.
You pull off of him and collapse on top of him exhausted ready to cuddle and fall asleep.
But your eyes widen when he finally speaks
"I think you're ready to take my cock now mein liebling"
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It's a Date. - Karina
Shoutout to @capslocked for the little beta read. <3
I'm starting to get back into the writing groove, dropping small fics here and there. This was fairly short and sweet, I hope you all enjoy as usual. :)
~~~~~
You were one of the hosts to take Aespa around New York while they’re on tour; today was an off day and you were with the group and their managers going out to several shopping districts and trying desserts throughout the day.
“Oppa, how come you’re not looking around for things?” Little Winter walking along next to you like a puppy, if a puppy can carry like 5 shopping bags with their paws.
“I live in the city Winter; this is my lifestyle.” You look around the shopping centre, it’s bustling and hustling as NYC would be normally. “Oh, come on oppa, there’s got to be something for you to do too, what about a girlfriend?” You had to think about it, it’s been a while since you were out with someone, let alone had a long-term relationship. “Ah, the last time I dated someone was back in college.” You gave a little smile to Winter as the two of you walked just behind the main group of members and managers.
Karina who’s walking along the main group takes a glance behind, seeing you and Winter laughing through your conversation. She excuses herself from the main group and slows down to the pace of you and Winter. “Ahh, what’s so funny?” Karina may be one of the most visually appealing idols and one of the most captivating people to ever walk this planet. But her looks don’t define who she is; Karina is actually a walking toddler.
Her cheeks are puffed up and lips in a pout. “Winter here is calling me a fossil, calling me old because I haven’t dated since college!” You were playing along with the act, acting a little whiny and childish which was alright, you’ve been with the girls a couple days already, they’re really playful and outgoing which is something you really appreciate seeing in Korean idols compared to a lot of Western stars you’ve hosted around every once in awhile.
Winter laughs uncontrollably on your left side, and is holding onto your arm, Karina is happy to see that there’s someone to trust outside of their group. “How old are you then oppa?” Karina tilts her head like a puppy, it really seems like Aespa as a group is a bunch of little puppies. “I’m 26 years old.” Winter pretends to be super shocked, exaggerating a dropped jaw. “Oh, my goodness, you’re a grandpa!”
“Yah, I’m only 3 years older than Karina.” Trying to defend yourself from Winter, but on the other side Karina is laughing at Winter’s reaction. “Oh, you’re not that old oppa, I just see the little white hairs appearing on your head.” Karina jokes around but catches you off guard making your jaw genuinely drop. “Ms. Karina!” Your jaw stays open but with a smile, you are putting your hand over your heart as if you got shot, but what really shot you is Karina’s smile and laughter.
Your walk through the mall was fun, it was all smooth going until…
“Oppa! Let’s go get you some clothes!” Giselle, the most fluent in English, pulls you into a local clothing shop. “Giselle!” The idol continued pulling your arm, you really didn’t have a choice. “Please, just call me Aeri.” With a reassuring smile that it’s okay to be on a first name basis at this point. “I feel like we’ll know each other a lot more after today.” Aeri with an excited smile, confuses you but you just go with the vibe.
“Oo, you'd be good with this… And this… We should try this too…” Aeri is picking out several pieces of clothing, going through different kinds of pants, looking at the blazers and some tops. “Giselle.” Aeri looks at you with a glare. “Aeri…” The glare changed to a smile, relieving you of possible stress. “Oppa, just try these on, okay?” Dumping a small pile of clothes into your arms, all you could do is sigh and accept it.
You went through multiple variations of outfits from all the clothes that Aeri has chosen for you. After spending about a half hour trying on clothes, there was a set that both you and Aeri found fond of. “Wah, oppa! You look so handsome!” You were wearing a short sleeve dark blue blazer, though worn open and on the inside, a nice grey, almost a salt & pepper style t-shirt, a black jean, complemented with a very dark brown leather shoe. “Wow, I have to hand it to you; you have great style Aeri.”
“Perks of being an idol~” You look through the mirror and watch Aeri pose with a V sign, making you laugh.
“That decides it, let’s go buy them!” You shook your head and looked at Aeri through the mirror. “I may be making decent money but buying all this is too expensive for me.” Your little shopping companion comes up to the mirror and looks you in the eye. “Oppa, who said you were going to pay?” And out of her pocket is her credit card from the company. “Yah, wouldn’t they be mad if you bought something not for you with this card?”
“This is the least that I can do being such a great host for us the last couple days.” You turn around to see a sincere smile and it doesn’t seem like she would take ‘No’ as an answer. “Okay, you win this round.” Aeri clapping her hands and you shrug in defeat as you make yourself to a change room with your original clothing.
Aeri kept to her word, now you’re walking along with Ningning and holding quite a lot of clothing. “Are you having fun with us, oppa?” It’s almost like each member is having their turn with you throughout the day. “Sure, I am Ningning, I get to spend time with very famous idols.” Ningning wasn’t satisfied with that answer. “What do you really like to do for fun?” You were confused as to why the idols are being really personal with you lately.
“Hmm, I’m originally from South Korea, but after moving here I really grew into North American culture. Watching basketball games, going out for bar food like wings and burgers with friends late at night. I do enjoy playing billiards, I’m always open to trying new activities.” Ningning now seems to be happy with that answer. “It seems that you’re very active.” You and Ningning kept the conversation going with each other, more and more you’re finding out the girls like to drink and eat a lot in the dorm, yet they seem so fit for the amount of food they consume and more Ningning is finding out your habits here in New York.
Once finding a restaurant to have a late lunch, you and the group were seated but you offered to sit separately as you would like to give the girls and managers their privacy.
“Nonsense! You’re sitting with us!” Karina was not happy with your suggestion. “You’re a part of us and you’re sitting with us.” The leader was standing firm, and wouldn't budge for anything. “Because you’re trying to bail on us, I’m making you sit next to me to keep an eye on you.” Karina poking your chest with her finger, you were given no choice. You couldn’t help but smile about it and shrugged. “Good, let’s go.” Karina grabbed your hand and dragged you in.
You were led to a large table fitting for 8 near the back of the restaurant, not completely private but obscure enough to eat comfortably. Karina sat on a bench with Winter and a manager beside her, one seat was left, and you were going to offer it to Ningning or Giselle, but you watch them already sit on the other side of the table with their other managers. “Nope, with me oppa.” Karina was sitting down, looking up to you with a smile.
“I really can’t get away from you, can I?” You finally gave up and sat down to the group’s leader. “Looks like someone has a liking for him.” Winter nudges Karina, shortly getting a slap to the leg to deny the teasing. “Yah…” You couldn’t hear the little whispers, you tried to ignore everything so the members can have a sense of comfortability and privacy, but then Karina can easily notice that you’re feeling uncomfortable.
“Hey… It’s okay.” Karina lays her palm on top of your hand and pats it. “Just be yourself, that’s all I ask for.” Her head is on a tilt, her smile, sincere. You nod your head and try your best to follow Karina’s asking. She’s always tried to make sure that her members were comfortable, that her manager was okay, but you being an outsider only have been with them for a short amount of time, Karina had always made sure that everyone was alright, she’s a great leader.
Lunch went smoothly, you and the managers had some good laughs, the members were having a good time, but alas all things must come to an end. The shopping is done, lunch is over, now you’re walking the girls and managers back to the hotel.
You bid your farewells, but Karina comes running back to you before you have the chance to leave the premises. “Oppa, I have a favour to ask you.” Karina's demeanour is off, hands behind her back, one foot balance on her toes, her eyes facing the ground, avoiding your gaze. “What is it, Karina?” You were curious, it’s not everyday you have a beautiful woman in front of you acting like a fool.
“I... Uh… Have this friend who’s coming to the city later tonight… I was hoping you could tour her around, like you did with us?”
“Oh… What could I have hoped for?”
“Sure, what time should I meet her?” You accepted without an issue, you wanted to be a good guy, you just spent a few days with the group and why should you decline? It’s not like you have a date to attend to.
“Yay! Thank you oppa, here’s her number, meet her here at 8pm!” Karina hands you a paper with an unusual phone number, not an area code you’re familiar with but you took in anyways. “Thank you oppa.” Karina bowed in respect before running back inside the hotel.
You would be a little disappointed, but this is a favour.
~~~~~
You make it back to the hotel at the time Karina told you to be there by, you texted the phone number that you arrived in the front. Good thing Aeri took you to go shopping for new clothes, you must dress up a little for the New York nightlife.
You: Hey, I’m in front of the lobby.
Unknown: I’ll be right there!
That reply came quickly, you were on a look out for someone outside the hotel, but the results would surprise you.
“Good evening oppa.”
You spin around to Karina, a different outfit from this afternoon. Instead of a white sweater and a long skirt, the Aespa leader is changed into a thin back long sleeve, mesh-like material being near fully see-through, a black bandeau underneath, complimenting her large bust and curves, paired with blue jeans and to finish with black boots.
“K-Karina?!”
Shocked to see the leader alone, no supervision, not even anyone watching from the entrance. “I hope you don’t mind me taking off my extensions, I felt like the short hair for our date.” Karina plays with her hair then smiles at you, she has somewhat of a gummy smile.
“Wait, I’m sorry, our date?” You were extremely caught off guard, Karina? Aespa’s leader? A kpop idol? A date? With you? “You could have better options than this old man.” The idol slowly walked towards you, grabbing your hand with both of hers, it’s now you really took the time to see, Karina has baby hands. “Why not? You treated us well, made sure we were comfortable, this is the least I could do… And I want to get to know you more.”
“But I live here, you need to go back to South Korea soon.” The idol was only giggling, she probably has already thought about it, otherwise you wouldn’t think she would go through the trouble of setting up a date with you. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it. There is a lot of tour guides in South Korea that would like a bilingual tour guide.”
With Karina’s amazing smile looking at you the way it is, how could you deny her?
“Okay Karina.”
“Please, my name is Yu Jimin.”
You smile and chuckle.
“Okay Jimin, what would you like to do tonight?”
She pulled away one hand, but still held yours with one. “Hmmm…” Her facial expression turned to a pout, playfully laying a finger on her chin, exaggerating the fact she’s thinking. “How about we go to a bar, get some wings and maybe watch a basketball game if there’s any?” Your jaw was left open, how could she have known?
“Ningning?”
“Mhmm.” With a cute nod.
How would you survive spending the night with Kar- Jimin?
The two of you walked off in a direction where you heard was a good restaurant that had some of the best wings and flavours, Jimin couldn’t let go of your hand, she was basically latched on your arm at this point.
“Oppa, are the New York Knicks any good?”
“Oh man… Don’t get me started…”
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for fictober could I request from the 50 autumnal prompts ‘when he wears THAT flannel’ with Eddie please?
we were so robbed of Eddie all boyfriend in soft cosy clothes. R wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of him and he’d love it come autumn when it’s all he wears.
ugh imagine him in like thick baggy sweaters and when he reaches up it just exposes a bit of tummy 😍 I’m like a Victorian seeing ankles
love you xoxo
hi angel! idk how i managed to make this angsty, but alas! hope you like it :D
summary: you and eddie try to get used to life post-vecna but it's not nearly as easy as you thought it'd be (post st4, established relationship, wee bit of angst tw for mentions of death and scars, 1.2k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie’s pretty much recovered by mid-fall.
Not totally. But mostly.
You think getting away from Hawkins helped the most — moving out of the city and settling further in the green. Even though everyone back home eventually understood that Eddie wasn’t the psycho-killing freak they made him out to be, things had changed far too much to ever go back to normal again.
Something’s break beyond repair. Something’s just can’t be fixed.
Not your Eddie, though. Eddie’s perfect. Damn near it, anyway, considering the circumstances.
He’s still got the nightmares and the phantom pains — even though he tells you he doesn’t. But he’s graduated now and helping Wayne at the car shop whenever he can. He’s taking the newfound normalcy in stride, spending early autumn with you and making you hot chocolate like nothing ever happened.
“You like marshmallows in your cocoa, right?” he calls from the kitchen, though he sounds like he’s talking mostly to himself.
You hear him, but you forget to answer. Your brain all but short circuits at how pretty he looks.
You eye him from the couch while he bustles in the kitchen, and gutwrenching existentialism knocks the wind from your lungs like a fist to the stomach.
You weren’t supposed to have Eddie again. You weren’t supposed to share a home like you always dreamed about, and he wasn’t supposed to make you hot cocoa or keep you warm when autumn got too bitter.
A season or more ago, you were saying your goodbyes while he bled out in an alternate dimension.
You haven’t yet forgotten how pale his skin had gotten or how glassy his chocolate eyes grew as the life spilled from the weeping bites on his stomach. The feeling of his blood, slimy on your hands and drenching your clothes, hasn’t yet left you. The red-hot blood in the unnatural navy blue cold still lives in your head.
But it’s only there. In your head.
And Eddie’s right in front of you — wild hair, baggy pajama pants, and all. You can smell the musk of his cologne and the floral of his shampoo. He’s real enough to touch.
He’s real.
The realization hits you every day, all the time. It wells from your chest up into your throat and makes you feel like crying. Most people don’t get to say goodbye to their soulmate and eat Wednesday morning breakfast with them months later.
You’ve got so much gratitude inside you, bursting like golden rays of sunshine, that you don’t know what to do with it all.
“Babe?” he calls again when you don’t answer. “Did you hear me?”
He pokes his head in the doorway, and your eyes go wide. “Huh? What?” you stammer, shaking your head to jerk yourself out of your stupor.
Eddie laughs, high and boyish. It sounds like heaven, and it pierces your heart. Six months ago, you never thought you’d hear it again. “I asked if you wanted marshmallows, weirdo.”
You nod rapidly and ramble an answer. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Thank you.”
“O-kay,” Eddie lilts, though his voice wavers with confusion. His grin widens and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t ask why you’re acting so suddenly strange.
You wonder if he’s used to it by now. You wonder if he knows when you go quiet that you’re remembering that a part of you nearly died.
He returns to the kitchen and reaches for the upper cupboard. A sliver of his milky white tummy peeks from beneath his flannel. You can see the bites from here. They’re scarred over now, dark red and light pink and thunder-strike purple. It almost jars you how healed they look. The wounds are still fresh and weeping whenever you close your eyes.
Eddie comes in from the living room, balancing two mugs in his hands rather carefully because he’s filled them to the brim. He’s got his usual ceramic Campbell’s Tomato Soup cup in one hand and your sleeping Snoopy in the other. The innate domesticity makes your stomach whirl.
“You okay?” the boy wonders with pinched brows when he hands you your cocoa.
You nod with glittering eyes, mustering a faint smile up at him. The mug warms your chilled, trembling hands.
“Mm-hmm… Why?” you question, though you’re more than aware of why.
Eddie’s got a knack for knowing how you’re feeling before you’ve even hinted at it. You think he might’ve got mind-reading powers when you were in the Upside Down.
“I don’t know. You just looked a little… far away, I guess.”
“Just missed you,” you confess with a bright, innocent gaze.
Eddie snorts as he rounds the couch to sit next to you. “While I was in the kitchen ten feet away?”
“Yeah. ’S way too far.”
“Well, remind me to carry you with me wherever I go, then.”
You know he’s joking, but you beam anyway. You don’t want to be anywhere that he isn’t. You don’t want him to go where you can’t follow.
Eddie takes a sip and smiles at your smiling. His grin is crooked and rosy and lined with whipped cream. He leans in to kiss you with it.
You pull back from him, just far enough to wipe the melted sugar off with the pad of your thumb. You give him a smacking peck a second later.
With a kissed grin, the boy leans back against the couch with his arm sprawled along the back of it. You curl into his side like his own personal puzzle piece, nestling your mug between your bodies with one hand and settling your free one on his stomach.
Your fingers seem to gravitate beneath his fuzzy flannel without you having to think twice about it.
Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, either. His attention is consumed by the television — a Scooby Doo re-run he’s probably seen a thousand times. His chuckle rumbles against your cheek. You laugh along with him, made content by the sound of his boyish delight.
Your fingers dance through the fuzz of his happy trail, then settle on something softer.
The marred skin of his warm tummy feels like silk. Before you realize what you’re touching, the boy beneath you jolts.
You nearly spill your cooling cocoa when you freeze alongside him. You part from Eddie with a gaping gaze, wide eyes darting over every inch of his face. You’re frightened that you’ve hurt him, but his pink grin only widens.
“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” you blurt. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Eddie turns to you, then. His features are blurry with sleep, and they twist with confusion at your misplaced concern.
“No,” he answers with the shake of his head. The softened ends of his chocolate curls brush your cheek. A laugh sputters from his mouth. “It just tickled, babe. It’s fine.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wavers on the way out, but you manage a trembling smile anyway. “Oh. Okay,” you hum, breathless.
“Yeah. ’S okay,” Eddie murmurs softly back, wrapping his pale arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and lingers there. “I’m okay,” he whispers into your hair.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: fictober!
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not even fate;
pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader
word count: 784
warning: fluff? ish? ghost is a coward :3
note: funny thing; i met a dude that reminds me of ghost at the airport and we got onto the same plane and i got seated behind him while this fic was in the works jddhhssjj
summary: ghost wouldn’t even think of making a move on a civilian, even after fate (and his friends) pushed them together more than once.
He saw her hand hover by his bicep in his peripheral before feeling a light tap after. She was pointing at her phone, showing him a google map direction that has the track they’re waiting on. Why on God’s bloody earth would she approach a 6’3 fellow in all black—complete with a black facemask and a matching black wool cap—to ask for directions, he would never understand.
“Hi, sorry, is this the right track?” She meekly asked, if he had less honed senses he would’ve asked her to speak up, but he could hear her just fine over the hustle and bustle of the train station. He noted her neatly brushed and slightly curled hair, the makeup on her face, and the clothes she was wearing.
Would.
He nodded, “Right platform too.” He pointed at the sign a little way away.
Ghost had always scoffed at true crime for describing someone’s smile as ‘lighting up a room’ but that’s what’s he’s seeing right now. With big beautiful doe eyes to complete the set. If he was still fully Simon Riley he would’ve chatted her up, but sadly, he’s no longer.
The woman thanked him as she waited a little bit behind him. Had he known at that point in time how things would go, that night he would’ve turned the other way and go the fuck home. But he didn’t, so he stayed.
He met up with Soap and Gaz at a pizza bar—that in their opinion served undeniably the best pizza and also offered unlimited drinks—which they visited almost everytime on leave. Price was occupied with family activities and said would join them later on, which they knew largely meant he would be skipping this outing.
Noting the man sitting alone next to them checking his phone every few seconds made him thought he got stood up, until the girl from earlier showed up, looking sheepish as she made her way. Her gaze moved over to Ghost, so she waved at him, with a surprised look mixed with recognition. He nodded at her and of course Johnny immediately gassed him.
“Ooooo, who’s that el tee?” He started, nudging his upperarm with his shoulder, “Lass’ mad cute.”
“Don’t know.”
“Tae fock ya mean ya dinnae ken?” His voice a half whisper as she sat down. “She waved at yah.”
“English, Mactavish.”
“The. Fuck. You. Mean. You. Don’t. Know. She. Waved. At. You.”
“Mistook me for someone else, probably.”
“Ya nodded back.” He prodded.
“Didn’t want to be rude.”
“Ah piss off, ya shitebag.” Johnny barked, harmlessly.
Ghost couldn’t help but overhear their conversation, which drove him mad. He kept talking about himself while she just kept nodding and asking more questions, and not single time had he asked something about her. Even when the poor girl did find time to slip in information about herself—which he thought was interesting—he found a way to swerve the conversation back to himself again.
The night went slowly, with soap ordering more pizzas while upping their drinks from pints to shots, and the girl’s date still going on and on and on about himself. Ghost was glad she excused herself and politely denied a second date. He had to make sure he went the opposite way she was going before paying full attention to his friends again. Price showed up abhorrently late, clothes faintly smelling of baby powder and shit, and in his tipsy stupor Soap mentioned the girl from earlier.
“He nodded, cap! Tae da hen!”
John nodded solemnly at Soap’s ramblings and nursed his single drink, not opting for the unlimited drinks. Price had confided in him on his ongoing argument with his wife about his obsession with work, and Ghost listened intently as he took mental notes.
That would never happen to him. He couldn’t relate as he would never let anyone get close to even have such an argument.
He saw her again as he got to the station, a bag of fish and chips in hand. And as he was about to walk a little bit farther so they wouldn’t be in the same wagon, his phone buzzed three times in a row to reveal texts from Soap.
TALK
TO
HER
He froze for a moment and looked around to see where this menace of a Scot could be.
Y R U LOOKING FER ME
HENS RIGHT THERE
💀🖕
Soap’s laugh was loud enough that it could be heard from where he stood, which subsequently made the girl turn around. He saw her scan the room for a little bit before her gaze landed and she smiled, making toasting motions at him with a battered fish.
Ah, fuck.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#call of duty imagines#call of duty#scuffed writing#ngl i took a pic of that man like a reprobate
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✧ 1st October ✧
All Might // Big Boy (f! civilian reader)
kinktober masterlist
warnings : belly bulge, petnames, creampie, size kink
no matter in which form toshinori, his height and his size in general would always win againts you. despite being a plump one, your height isn't really helping (or it's just the fact that toshinori is almost seven foot tall) you couldn't compete toshinori in any way but the older man developed a kink over the state.
how he adores your hands in his big ones, your still small hands although he's in his skinny form. how you would struggle to reach out to kiss him, toshinori having to bend over every single time. how he loves the height difference and how it's obviously too.
how he enjoys how you struggle to take him during sex, how you need a lot of prep before having him inside because once he was too hasty and ended up hurting you. lube is a must, your juices are simply not enough for someone his size. it started as an observation, how small you looked while being under and soon he realized that's the exact thing that gets him busting a nut inside you.
it was an exhausting day for both you and toshinori as you two huffed on the couch, your body spread wide on his lap. "toshii..." you whined, pawing his hero costume that got his attention. he smiled knowingly, unzipping the suit for you two to share warmth and comfort. you hummed as your small hands rested on his enormous peck. he was content with how comfortable this routine felt, a quiet one after hustle and bustle of the day. however the content quickly turned into something else when he looks down and see how dainty you were. so small, fragile.
he stifled a groan when you accidently grind on his clothed cock, earning a small giggle. "y/n.. if you keep doing that, im gonna-" he let out a growl when he felt your hips grinding down, he almost came. He lifted your body with ease and placed you on his shoulder, slapping your butt as you yelped. "wanna get fucked so bad?" he asked dangerously and your cheeks were warm as you nodded.
he roughly dumps you on your shared bed "stick your dirty fingers in that pussy, i want it wet and prepped, you hear me?" he holds your chin to look up at him earning a nod. you hastily took off your pencil skirt while he teased you by slowly undoing his, making you whine as you plunged your fingers into your already soaking pussy. you used two fingers and whined again "toshinori, its not enough, need you to do it" he smiled, his top already off. "your fingers are not big enough, darling?" he purred "n-no.. yours are much bigger.. need it.."
"if you say so"
he was quick to place two fingers inside to stretch your gummy walls earning a wanton moan from your lips, his hands grabbing two tits in one hand that showcased how big his hands are. he whispers sweet praises into your ear that went his fingers went to flicked your clit, you were already having an orgasm
"my sweet girl. you think you can handle more?" he asked gently, nudging the mushroom of his cockhead at your salivating pussy. "yes please..." you asked oh so sweetly, he'd be a horrible person to decline.
He inserted slowly, enjoying how your small body clung on him as you scratched his back with pleasure. making small thrusts, he took one boob in his mouth as you squeezed your eyes tight "ah.. so... bignnh" you slurred as his tongue lapped on your nipple "but you can take it right? take everything, sweetheart" you panted as he kept pushing inside, venturing to places so deep inside you. your breathing hitched when you finally felt his hip and his balls against your ass. "toshi,, please.., fuck m-" you screamed as he thrusted violently as he panted "damn it.. so tight," he muttered under his breath as you moaned his name. "gotta make sure i fuck you daily, get this hole loose" he grunted as he pressed you down the bed. he easily lifts you as you lay sideways and uses your arms as levers to thrust in deeper. "o-oh.. fuck.." you were getting dizzier as he thrusts with force and nibbles on your earlobe. "i'm gonna cum.. fuck, fucking look at you.. so pretty, so small. fuck!" cum spurted inside you as you lay down feeling already full.
"you didn't think we're finished did you?"
how delicious it is seeing the slight bulge of his cock inside of your stomach makes him groan at how small you are compared to him, so small and vulnerable. so easy to just toss you around and use like a doll. "yeah.. one more.." he coaxed you into another orgasm, you were drooling on the bed sheets "t-toshi.. so full.." you mumbled, feeling stuffed and filled to the brim with how much he has came inside you.
he pulls you up, his chest on your back as he used your arms as support, thrusting inside you in a slow and sensual pace "shit.." his american accent came out "you feel too good, darling.. need to fill you everyday, would you want that?" he whispered againts your ear as you moaned, feeling lightheaded and full of pleasure. "yes.. everyday.. mmh.." your tits bounced as sweat and saliva coated your skin and his. he groaned again and came with a shiver, thrusting his cum slowly into your weeping pussy. you collapsed on the body and twitched, cum oozing out frok your exhausted pussy.
again, toshinori is fascinated to see such a small body is able to keep in so much cum.
#my hero academia imagines#my hero academia fanfic#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia smut#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#all might#all might x reader#all might smut#mha all might#bnha all might#yagi toshinori#kinktober entry ♡˖
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