#he always remembers his parents as good parents so he wants to do right by them by also being a good parent
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exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt 1 | pt3
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.
— tags: conversing, getting to know one another
— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification
— word count: 6.2k
— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.
Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!
The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.
Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?
You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.
You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.
People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.
Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.
When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.
You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."
He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."
You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.
Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."
In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."
"Did you eat already?"
You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."
He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.
"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"
Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."
He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.
You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."
You look at him. "Ok..."
The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"
You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.
"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."
He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"
You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."
Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.
You shrug. "It's fine."
He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.
"Do you know anything about her?"
You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."
Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.
He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.
Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.
"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.
You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.
Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.
You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.
"Turn around."
Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.
Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.
You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.
When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.
You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."
You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.
"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.
"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."
"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.
Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."
You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."
"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."
You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.
"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.
Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.
"Just what?" Lexi prods.
"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."
Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.
Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."
Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.
"What do you mean by abusive?"
She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."
Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.
He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.
You put your things away, then look to Nate.
In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.
"You ready?"
You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.
Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.
Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.
You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.
Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.
It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.
But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.
He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.
And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.
He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.
“Do you sleep with this?”
Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”
He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.
In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.
He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.
Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.
And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.
It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.
You need him.
You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.
He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.
He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”
You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”
He nods.
He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.
He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.
He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.
You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.
He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.
He closes the doors in front of him.
What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.
He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.
He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.
Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.
He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.
He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.
And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.
Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.
You walk over, sitting in it.
He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.
“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.
You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.
He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”
Your brows furrow. “Do what?”
“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”
You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”
He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.
You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?
And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.
You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.
He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”
“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.
He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.
“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”
You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”
In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.
If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.
“What if it wasn’t?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”
You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”
You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.
“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”
He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.
“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.
“You won’t.”
You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?
You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”
He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”
“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”
He grows silent.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”
He doesn’t elaborate further than that.
“So…what’s your favorite color?”
He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”
Somehow it seems fitting for him.
He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”
“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”
He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”
You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”
He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”
“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”
He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”
Your brows furrow. “Who?”
“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”
“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.
He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”
Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.
“How come we were never friends?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”
You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”
“You know what they say: opposites attract.”
You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.
He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”
To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.
“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”
“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”
You let out a small laugh.
“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.
“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.
“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”
Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.
So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.
“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.
"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”
Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.
And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.
“Psychotic?”
You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”
He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.
“Have you ever dated before?”
You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”
He looks over at you. “Never?”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”
His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.
It surprises him.
“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.
You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”
He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.
No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.
He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?
God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.
But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.
“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”
You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”
He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”
You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.
You clear your throat. “My turn.”
He lays back again.
“Can I ask about your dad?”
He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”
You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”
“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.
Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.
He stands and you fill with guilt.
You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.
“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”
He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.
Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.
Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.
He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”
You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”
He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”
He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.
“Like what?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”
You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”
“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.
You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.
“Okay.”
He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.
You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”
He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.
“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”
You gently take the dress from him.
He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”
Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.
While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.
He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.
When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.
You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.
You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.
He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”
You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.
He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.
You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.
He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.
He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?
He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.
You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.
Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.
Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.
He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”
“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.
He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.
Today will be one step closer to getting that future.
He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.
He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.
Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.
#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n#nate jacobs x you#nate jacobs x reader#nate jacobs imagine#euphoria x reader
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“ROI—“
more bff!mark for my baby girls out there, i am watching and lurking when you least expect. the title is based on a song! it is the instrumental for roi. i do not have a specific reason, i just heard it while i was writing and hadn’t a title ready. i saw the phrase “sandbox love never dies” on another work, credit is due there for that!
cw: mdni!, dubcon-ish(? not sure how to describe, haha), smut, mark is pining hard for reader, possibly hint of yandere, this one is kind of long, bff!mark, piv, childhood friends to lovers trope, mark is a little delulu if u squint, virgin!mark (implied), semi-dark content please be aware, reader and mark are in college, reader knows that mark is invincible but that isn’t really important to the story.
mark knew this bedroom all too well. how couldn’t he? you both basically grew up in there together. you were always over at his house, he was always over at yours. inseparable ever since the day he had moved in across from you, sandbox love never dies.
his eyes landed on the fairy lights that were stapled to the wall to keep them in place… he had done that, years ago. he couldn’t bare to see the look of disappointment on your face when you realised that they hadn’t come with a sticky back so you could have them up on your wall. he still remembered the way your eyes lit up when he returned to your home with a stapler in hand, being careful not to staple through the wire. mark’s heart fluttered when he saw your little collection of cereal box figurines; also his doing. he couldn’t believe that you had held onto his gifts for so long, let alone display them proudly as if they were medals. to you, they might as well as be.
“you okay?” you asked, snapping him out of whatever dreamy trance he was in. he snapped his head around back to the tv, the ending credits of the zombie movie rolling on the screen. you had noticed how he had been staring into space for the last half hour of your movie, “me? yeah- i’m good, just thinking about something.” he smiled, quickly rummaging around on the floor to pick up the last of the movie cases, your marathon nearing its end. you were both back in town for the weekend, college kicking you both down and your dorm rooms not homey enough for it to feel right, so you had decided to drop in for a couple of days, killing two birds with one stone and seeing both mark’s parents and yours in one trip. your parents would be coming back later, that’s when the barbecue would come out.
mark switched the disk for the unwatched one, the movie menu popping up shortly after with a blood splatter animation on the title screen, “no don’t play it yet! we gotta refill here.” you spoke, pointing down at the almost empty bowl of chips, save for a few crumbs at the bottom. you had even ran out of cookies, remembering how mark had said that they should stop calling them family size if they were only able to feed two people in the span of an hour or two. you retorted with something about how usually people had self control; you weren’t supposed to scoff down three packs of family value cookies. ever.
“you gonna leave me here, all on my own? out in the open like this? i’m a sitting duck out here.” he joked, a satisfied warmth washing over him as soon as you had laughed. he loved your laugh, always. for as long as he could remember, “like anyone would come attack my house while you’re here, mark.” you rolled your eyes, his heart skipped a beat. he knew how much you relied on him to keep you safe sometimes. already knew that you’d know who to call if you were ever in any danger. he fed on it. you picked up the empty bowls, stacking them inside one another and opening your bedroom door.
“d’you want anything from downstairs?” you asked, holding an empty bottle of pop under your arm, hands preoccupied. mark shook his head, getting up to open your door wider for you, “i think i’ll just stick to eating all of this junk you keep throwing at me.” mark smiled, you smiled. mark’s heart ached.
“don’t you dare press play on that movie, mark grayson!” you yelled from downstairs, just missing the way mark’s cheeks dusted pink at the sound of his name on your tongue. you sounded like an angel. mark’s attention turned to your dresser, the top drawer full of your underwear. how did he know? well, he was the reason for your declining pairs of underwear, the source of the disappearing panties act that you had just brushed off as being forgetful or losing them somehow. he got up, face turning beet red as he stepped towards the drawer, fingers shakily reaching for the handle, slowly, slowly-
“are you going through my stuff?” shit. shit.
you had caught him, after all this time you had caught him. his mind raced for an excuse, his heart threatened to give up on him and he hoped that he would just have a heart attack already, quickly, he had to say something. anything, anything- “i’m kidding! if you’re looking for the remote, you already left it on the bed, silly!”
thank god. thank god.
“right, y-yeah! ha, i must’ve- forgotten..” he laughed nervously, heart still racing in his chest. all he could do was try to steady himself, calm his shaking hands and retreat back to his original seat, on your bed, next to you. he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, couldn’t stop thinking about how he could’ve had you right there if you had actually caught him, couldn’t stop thinking about holding your hands above your head and covering your mouth with his palm, ‘please let me, you don’t understand- just the tip and i’ll be done i swear.. just let me make you take me.’— he was daydreaming again, it was all your fault. he wanted you so badly, so desperately, why couldn’t you see it? why couldn’t you see him?
mark stared blankly at the tv screen with his jaw clenched, looking right through the screen. if he hadn’t had seen this movie dozens of times before with william, he would’ve been missing it. it was as if he was sleeping while sitting up with his eyes open, idle and dormant…
he heard you scream, his body shifting to shield you on instinct, breaking him out of whatever trance he had put himself in. you had thrown your arms over him, eyes squeezed shut. he was ready to fight, but fizzled down when he realised that you had only jumped into his arms for safety because of a jumpscare. a jumpscare. you were pressed up against him, you had almost jumped into his lap. it was like you were doing it on purpose, torturing him just because you could. you clung to him tighter, eyes glued to the screen in fear and anticipation for the next bloody scene…
fuck. he could feel his cock twitching in his jeans, straining against his boxers. leaking, weeping for you, his best friend. he was frozen, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip pulled into his mouth with his teeth so hard that he thought he would make himself bleed- bleed for you-because you were clinging onto him like you needed him. he needed you. he couldn’t help it anymore. it was now or never, here or nowhere.
“m’sorry-“ he said quietly and you turned to him, eyes staring up into his. that sent him over the edge. before you could ask him what he was apologising for, you were on your back, mark leaning over your body, a hungriness in his deep brown orbs. you had forgotten how fast he was, his powers completely slipping your mind. that was just it, you never cared. you always stuck with him, even after he had told you about his father’s secret roots all those years ago after he had just found out. he couldn’t wait to tell you, he always knew that you’d still see him the same, believe his words even if he lied-
“y/n, please- just let me talk, please just hear me out..!” he sounded different, shaky, almost scared to speak to you as if you were the one with superpowers holding him down. you weren’t scared, of course you weren’t. you looked into his eyes, concern washing over you as you watched your best friend open and close his mouth again, trying to find his words, “i.. i don’t- look, i…” more silence followed, tears brimmed in the corners of mark’s eyes and landed on your face, his gaze refusing to meet yours once again. you wanted to wipe his eyes, get to the bottom of why he was so upset… oh. oh. that was it, huh?
“mark-“ you interrupted, propping yourself up on your elbows to get closer to his face, closer so you could wipe his eyes-
mark panicked, he wasn’t ready for your rejection. wasn’t ready to hear you tell him that you had a boyfriend or that you couldn’t, didn’t want to hear you tell him that he was just like a brother to you, you couldn’t like him back because you were only best friends. he leaned forward, hands on your cheeks, lips crashing against your own. “mmf-!” you tried to move, his grip only tightening the more you tried to pull away, your hands on his wrists tightly. so this was how it was going to have to go, right? he’d dreamed of this for so long, it was so perfect. you were perfect.
“mark-!” you finally yelled, pushing him away by his shoulders. he could feel a dark pit starting to form inside of his stomach, regret washing over him, wishing that the pit would open up enough to swallow him too… “let me just breathe for a second..!” you huffed, locking eyes with him. your eyes never left his, mark’s eyes would try to flicker away from yours.
to him, it was a miracle. to you, it was a confession. it was years and years of bottled up feelings drowning you both all at once, it was confirmation.
you didn’t hesitate, hands snaking into his hair and pulling him back into a sweet kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he gasped shakily, a sweet nervousness behind his reciprocation. fireworks shot off in his brain, opening his mouth slowly only to be met with the intrusion of your tongue first, licking up against his as you held him tighter, pulling him closer, devouring him whole. god, you were going to kill him. are you going to kill him? give him a heart attack right here, right now? he thought so, hands aimlessly wondering under your shirt with his hips bucking into you with a groan rumbling from his throat, you whining back when his thumbs brushed against your nipples, your hips rocking against his. “w-wan’ you so b-bad-“ he spoke in between kisses, desperately trying to shove his tongue back down your throat straight after. you moved your hands to the hem of your skirt, shuffling out of it and kicking it off the end of your foot and onto the floor. this was hot, hungry. your hands pulled at his sweater, attempting to pull it over his head. he paused, sad to leave your lips once more, to take off his sweater and discard it into a random corner. “y/n, wanna- can i.. please- just the t-tip, only wanna feel it..- please let me, i’ll be quick, p-promise-“ you shut him up with a deep kiss, arms wrapped around his neck, “..i want all of it, mark. i can take you.” and mark almost cums in his jeans right there, nodding lazily and sliding his hand between your bodies to fiddle with the button and fly of his jeans, mentally congratulating himself for not just messily tugging them past his hips. he wasn’t alone with your panties jerking off next to you in your bed while you slept anymore- no- he had time. he could take it slow.
you couldn’t help but moan when you caught sight of his cock, heavy and thick and leaking between his legs, aching for you. who would’ve guessed? your best friend was packing. mark rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his waist, hands pressed on chest. to him, all you had ever done was look down on him, even if you had never intended so. for once, you really were looking down on him, but he was in control. he wanted to be in control, he should have been in control. and with that, the position shifted once more.
mark’s thumbs separated your gooey folds after pulling your panties to the side, he recognised that pair, he had planned on taking them one night. a pair of red lace panties, simple but permanent in his brain. he knew your cunt all too well, the nights where you would need help to stumble back to your dorm drunk when he would tower over your clothed body, flipping up your dress and lick your cunt until he busted against your bedsheets, he could always dismiss it as a yoghurt stain or something if you had ever asked.
mark grabbed you by the thighs, pulling you closer so your cunt was in perfect line of his fat dick, swiping the head up your slit and shivering when you moaned quietly because of the contact to your clit. this was so surreal, he was living in a dream and he never wanted to wake up. you both hissed when he caught his tip on your hole, eyes meeting once more before he let himself go, hands gripping your hips as he pressed into his your warm, wet pussy. you were going to take all of him. “fuuck..! mnh-“ you almost screamed, trying to adjust to his length. mark didn’t care. neither did you. his cock bullied its way into your tight walls, mark whispered small apologies into your ear as you whined at him, slowly gyrating your hips to try and almost run from the stretch, to give yourself a minute to adjust again, “don’t do that- you don’t have to do anything-“ he started, his warm breath fanning over your neck which caused goosebumps on your skin, “you don’t have to do anything other than lay here.. stay still n’ take my cock.” his words made you tremble, you tried to protest, his mouth blocking your words with a kiss, his dick pressing right up against your cervix with a harsh thrust of his hips, gummy gooey walls clenching down on him, a low “ohhh, ohh f-fu..ck-!” rumbling against your lips.
one thrust and he was immediately pussydrunk, your mouth hanging open and tongue poking out when he drew his hips back, slamming them back into you with uneven, inexperienced movements. he fucked like a rabid dog, his nails digging into your skin as he babbled above you,
“d-do you feel full? can’t push any deeper..” followed by a pressure on your stomach, his hand pressing down so he could feel himself thrusting through your body,
“ghnn..- y/n you feel so much b-better than my fleshlight-!” did he even know what he was saying? your walls tightened around him, the wind being knocked out of your lungs again when he pressed harder, lips working against yours, his vision blanking and ears ringing when you didn’t stop tightening and loosening on him, mushy cunt trying to milk him dry.
you couldn’t do anything but moan breathlessly, pushing the hair falling into his face back, his jaw clenched and forehead sweaty, pressing his head against yours. this was it, this was everything his life had been building up to until now. he thought that maybe he had subconsciously made you fall for him, all of the times he had touched you secretly conditioning your brain. he doubted it, but the idea of him and him only reworking your mind to love him made him keen. “yeah, tha’s right.. take it, c’monnn..” he babbled, his eyelashes wet with tears, not knowing or caring whether they were happy tears or the result of his pleasure. you were right on the edge, your moans getting louder and shorter, scrambling to let mark, your best friend, know that you were going to spray all over his pelvis. you’d squirted before but this felt.. different. warmer, hotter. “c-c-!..” you struggled, eyes crossing and back bowing off of the bed, “fffuck-! ghfuckk yeah..- y-you’re cummin-“ he held your hand, hips stuttering when he felt your tight pussy starting to flutter, the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping;
warmth flooded your insides, legs twitching when you gushed all over yourself and mark. if you weren’t planning on changing your sheets after this, you definitely had to now. white ropes were out of mark’s cockhead riiiight against your cervix, breeding your cunt as if he had no control over himself, which he didn’t. you both panted, trying to balance your breathing. you felt his hips pull back, cock pulling out and opening the floodgates for thick globs of cum to pour out of you, your best friend rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm, mouth open as he breathed. he was in a daze, completely out of it, both of your liquids stuck to mark’s flaccid dick.
“did you get it out of your system yet?” your voice always bought him back. it was always you, it had always been you. “i… really want to be with you. i wanted- i want you, y/n.” mark spoke sternly, finally being able to complete his sentence from earlier. “i think i could gather that.” you retorted with a laugh. your laugh, his favourite.
you locked eyes, dark murky brown pools staring directly into yours. his pinkie finger hooked around yours, laughter bubbling from both of you. the fairy lights shined in his peripheral vision. the movie’s credits rolled on the screen, the whole movie falling on deaf, horny ears.
it was quiet, the only sounds being of yours and mark’s breathing. this was nice, blissful. peaceful.
“i love you, mark grayson.”
#mark grayson#mark grayson x reader#invincible#dark blog#mark grayson smut#fem reader#invincible smut#invincible x reader#bff!mark grayson#smut
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Bruh emotional support ghost kid? Well thats what they are calling him
Suicide cases in gothem are about to fucking plummet boiz cause this one weird blue eyes, black haired boy is now heading to your location.
How does he know where to be? Having a bad day and are all alone? No the fuck your not cause don’t turn around now but theres some shiny blue eyes coming at you from that dark ally. Oh shit hes here to drop some information about you and your lost loved ones that he should know. Oh god the closure. How could you have been afraid on this sweet, creepy, boy who just helped you find your way.
Meanwhile Danny is chillin in Gothem cause the GIW hate it there (none of they equipment actually functions in Gothem so it’s either super haunted or actually not haunted at all). Then all of a sudden he gets approached by a random ghost begging for his help because their sweet baby girl is about to do something horrible. Oops now all the ghosts are following their most loved ones around just to make sure they are there to rush to Danny for help when all else fails. Now hes getting to fulfil his protection obsession double time because one hes helping protect people from themselves and two hes protecting everyone in Gothem by stopping people from becoming villains for revenge. Plus he gets to see first hand how hes making a difference because all those people he saved are sending him some good vibes from all across Gothem.
Thank god he followed Jazz around so much to slightly absorb some of her phycology knowledge over the years. Plus it was actually pretty interesting so she gave him her old text books. Shes also helping him deal with the rare events where he can’t save someone. Just a moment too late or he stops them but they later succeeded in the hospital. Neither are his fault. Now only if he could convince his core of that.
Anyway why Gothem you ask? Amity Park would have been just as good tbh but imagine Batmans face when he finally gets to be face to face with the emotional support ghost boy. Why is he here? Bruce is fine. Batman is fine. Hes not gonna do anything crazy. It’s just a hard time of year. Around their death always gives him grief. But hes an adult and can manage it.
“You know they are so proud of you.” The boy states. As if it’s clear as day, even though it’s Gothem and never a clear day. Batman blinks at him, stunned for a moment. “What?” This boy can’t possibly know that. No one will ever know that, Bruce can only hope. “They see their home, full of such life. That big house that felt so empty, so cold, to them as well for years. Then you filled it with Family and Love like they had always wanted for you. They are so proud of what you have turned it into. Somewhere full of life and warmth.” A small smile graces his face as finally “you have made your parents so proud” and its all he can do to contain himself. Emotions are running high and sue him because he really did need to hear that ok. The boy suddenly looks to Bruces right with a confused face “aren’t all basements like that though?” Before Bruce can even get a word in hes gone. Just vanished before his eyes.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#dpxdc#dp x dc#batman#I just wanted to write danny walking up to the buggest toughest batman and make him cry tears of relief#danny is helping his subjects find closure while always feeding his protection obsession#let him be interested in his sisters word#also god imagine bruce just having a bad time of it cause is the anniversary of his parents death#than the ghost kid just walks up and tells him exactly what he needed to heat#yes they are proud of the word batman does#he knows he has saved lives#but what about him as a father#would his father be ashamed of his parenting skills#would his mother be discusted at how he treats his children#he always remembers his parents as good parents so he wants to do right by them by also being a good parent#anyone can risk their life for another but few can be a good father#actually it’s easy just love your kids and sont walk out and leave them with an insane bitch of a mother#dad im lookin at you#and dknt marry your fucking step sister dad#isnt our family tree circle enough. why must u follow in grandmothers footsteps#at least with him is marrage related aye?#oops im rabling about my daddy issues teehee
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Hugging, Kissing and Cuddling HCs for König
I'm trying to see him in another light again after everything I've seen about him, so I decided I'd write something fluffy and nice for him. And then came the realization I never wrote some HCs like these for him in my original posts, so I decided I'd change that! He's Austrian, so naturally I have to love him!
When it comes to hugging someone, König is a bit hesitant. Considering he’s not the most physically affectionate person out there, it’s almost an honor to be receiving an unprompted hug from him. Whether his hugs are long or short depends on the occasion: If he’s proud of you for accomplishing something, then the hug will be rather short lived. Though, he might pick you up and spin you around until you’re dizzy. If you’re sad and need some comfort then his hugs could last a while. He’s not the best with words, he prefers to listen to other people, but if he knows a hug is what usually helps you then he’s willing to do so. Despite being a big and strong lad his hugs are surprisingly gentle, he’s worried about crushing you. He could put his all into them, but then you’d likely end up with a few broken ribs and he doesn’t want that to happen. König is also surprisingly warm, so receiving a hug from him is a rare, but nice experience. Although he does go rigid at the beginning, not knowing what to do, but relaxes into the hug eventually.
Again, he’s not a very physically affectionate person, but isn’t opposed to the occasional peck on the cheek or on your lips either. There is some anxiety whether you’d actually want a kiss from him or not, so he doesn’t kiss you very often, even if you do reassure him that it’s quite alright. He’s a bit tense at first when he presses a kiss to your lips, but calms down eventually. It’s especially bad during the beginning of your relationship, but he’s since gotten better at being calm about it. Since there’s a good chance he’s taller than you he loves giving you a kiss on the forehead. It’s a small but sweet gesture. He doesn’t need to bend down entirely to reach you but he still gets to be affectionate with you. However, if you’re on the taller side, or just as tall as he is, then he’d love to receive kisses to his temple from you. It makes him smile every time you do it. If he’s in the mood for receiving a kiss then he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and nudge you a bit. Or try to get his head in your closer vicinity. Kind of like that one bunny video where the bunny stretches to receive some kisses.
Cuddles with him are a bit more common than hugs actually. However, he refuses to lay down on top of you. If you’re shorter and weaker than him then there’s no chance he’ll put his weight on you, he’s just that afraid of hurting you. If you’re taller or just more muscular, then he might, but he’s still a rather heavy lad. Most he’ll do is put his head on your shoulder while you’re cuddling in bed and are both lying down. Although it’d be a lie to say he doesn’t want to be held. König is alright with being the one to hold you, but sometimes he would prefer to be the little spoon as well. That urge gets especially bad if you’re roughly the same size as him. Sometimes just nuzzling into your chest does the trick for him as well, though. Loves it when you run your fingers through his hair as he does so. Another thing he adores is you sleeping on his chest as he holds you. He gets to hold you close, he gets to protect you and he gets to doze off a bit himself, it’s bliss to him. Sometimes he leans down to press a kiss to your head and accidentally wakes you up like that. He feels bad about it and apologizes profusely, but does chuckle a bit when he sees your disheveled hair and your tired expression that shows you just woke up.
#cod#cod x reader#konig#könig#konig x reader#könig x reader#he actually kind of scares me these days even if I don't want that to happen in the slightest so I'm trying to desensitize myself again#I know people always joke about fanon könig vs canon könig but I think I will write him a bit softer with his s/o again#just to combat all those awful things I've seen about him that I don't want to be true and that I also want to forget about#könig is a big lad so I knew from the beginning I wanted him to be good at hugging because this is self indulgent#I feel like if it weren't for his anxiety he'd be much much cuddlier#because that's the case with me even if I have other things going on as well#and what is a funny character you write about if not another piece of yourself?#I've put so much of myself into some of these characters and yet people keep requesting them so I must be doing something right#it's more fun that way as well when you put your characters through something you've gone through. more relatable too#but I think that's something pretty much every writer does. that's why some requests are so difficult to write#I got one about marrying Laswell and Nikolai and that was a difficult request for me because the last wedding I went to#was my parents' and that was almost 18 years ago. man time flies I was 4 years old back then#so naturally I don't remember much either. But I tried and that's what's important!#either way please enjoy this piece of fluff I wrote today!
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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.
Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind:
1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge?
2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing.
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.
Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h.
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly.
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air.
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome.
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real?
You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique.
“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot.
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks.
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”
You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo?
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol.
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-”
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine.
And then it’s all black.
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact.
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into?
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment.
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that.
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.”
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-”
“It’s al-”
“I swear I’ve seen ankles-”
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.”
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about.
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling.
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso.
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.
You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye.
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve.
At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
…
Nahhh.
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again.
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through.
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,”
You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”
“Oh, it’s on now.”
“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him.
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”
“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that-
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory.
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit.
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you.
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock.
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.”
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock?
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well.
Or maybe…
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins.
Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”
“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him.
All for him.
It’s too much.
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.”
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon.
Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind.
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand.
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could.
“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”
“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him.
You.
And then he’s cumming.
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him.
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-
…
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow.
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course.
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
…
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved.
Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didn’t mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt.
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time.
It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R.
It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right?
It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture.
“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success.
“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him.
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm.
“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”
It was like something snapped.
Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
“Kiss me, you fool.”
And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing.
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting.
“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue.
“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that.
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire.
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously.
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?”
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”
“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions.
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples.
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping.
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing.
“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips.
He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face.
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue.
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water.
Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do.
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide.
“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need.
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you.
And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue.
“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”
Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs.
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life.
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl.
Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”
“Feels perfect.”
But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips.
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same.
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat.
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later.
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face.
You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt.
“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well.
“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him.
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more.
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty.
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass.
“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them.
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”
The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?
“Wha-”
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him.
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders.
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more.
Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him, “More? My sweetheart wants more?”
And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get.
“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”
“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”
You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”
You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”
“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”
“Choso, just kiss me.”
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you.
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut.
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want.
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully.
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually.
“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves.
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”
“Nope.”
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed.
“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.”
Except maybe those.
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
“Well, we still have time so how about-”
A distant click!
“Honey, we’re home~!”
Shit.
A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo
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babe i have a thought but idk if i can word this right
so rafe x shy!reader when theyre still taking it slow with the dry humping n fingering but she wants to make rafe feel good as well yk but she isnt mentally ready yet for sex !! n so she quietly tries to learn on how to give head from porn n when she executes it on rafe hes all like ?? huh ???? how the hell .
rafe asked you what you were doing last night. you told him you were studying.
you were studying, you hadn't lied about that. he'd just assumed it was your schoolwork and didn't ask further questions, when you were really about six pages into the pornhub results, searching up deepthroating. an hour ago it'd been just blowjob but all the videos seemed to indicate this was the superior method.
you were nothing if not thorough, studious. you were a quick study too, swiftly realizing nearly all the 'blowjob' videos had some aspect of 'deepthroating' in them, and you wanted to learn everything for rafe, learn the best for him, be the best for him.
so that's how you ended up like this, practicing your new techniques on a second banana from your kitchen. you had accidentally choked and bitten down on the first one, so you had to go back for another, avoiding your parents' questions.
you were getting better though, which is all that mattered. another tab was helping you learn how to not trigger your gag reflex, and another still reminding you to breathe through your nose and use your hands where your mouth couldn't reach. you had accumulated enough knowledge, you just needed to practice, hence the fruit.
rafe was taking you to dinner tomorrow, and you always slept at tannyhill after one of your dates. that would be the perfect chance to show him your new skills.
rafe was experienced in every sense of the word, all you wanted was to impress him, make him realize you can handle more than he thinks you can. he's still concerned he's gonna break you and even though you know he can—the first time you guys tried to have sex lingering in your mind—you know he won't.
after dinner, rafe tries to take you for ice cream, the way he always does, and you surprise him by saying no. you never refuse dessert so he thinks something's wrong, but you surprise him again, getting to your knees in front of him while he takes a seat on his bed.
"what're you doin', kid?" he mumbles, thinking you're not sure what you're causing right now.
"you said i can have dessert. this is what i want," you murmur back, taking out his hardened dick. everything's a blur, you don't even remember unbuckling his belt but it rests beside your knees.
you glance up hesitantly, remembering another website that had said to keep eye contact. you'll have to go back to that, too concerned with how much you can fit in your mouth—rafe is bigger than your banana.
you start slowly, looking up while your hands stroke up and down. you think you're doing well—rafe's reacting how you imagined, heavily breathing, his hand snaking into your hair.
"jesus, shit, kid-" now you know you're doing well, lowering your entire mouth onto rafe's dick, feeling him fill up your throat. you choke around it for a moment, sucking down and running your tongue over the veins there. you take him out, catching your breath for a second while spit runs down his length and the side of your mouth.
you spit again, this time on his head, licking all the way up and then bringing him into your throat again. it's going good—you think! rafe's moaning and you definitely like the sound of it, staring up at him with watery eyes while you choke and moan around it.
he's getting close you think, the way his grip tightens on your hair and his hips start thrusting up into your mouth. you don't stop or slow down, but rafe does, yanking your hair and pulling you off.
you sputter, catching your breath, wiping away the spit.
"what happened?" you question quietly, looking up at him. a tear runs down, not able to stay in place. you're not upset though, just curious. "was it not good? did i do something wrong?"
"you told me you've never done that before."
"i haven't," you reply, shaking your head.
"so, so you just knew? to do all of that? don't fuckin' lie to me, kid, i'm not playin' around-"
"i didn't! swear! i've been studying, i told you-"
"this is what you've been studyin'?"
"...yes. i thought i was doing good." you mumble the last part, hugging your knees. you look away from rafe, feeling embarrassed.
"hey, hey. you were. i just wasn't expectin' that, s'all. scared me. you're too good at that." you perk up.
"i am?"
"yeah. you little freak. c'mon, finish up. gotta put that studyin' to use, hm?"
#oh ur fucking lovely for this prompt im OBSESSEDDDDDDDDDDDD#i adore u#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#shy reader
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#i can remember for all of my life any sor of affection was foreign to me#and never felt right#i have never been hugged by my parents they were always working to keep the house#my sister and cousin raised me the best they could but even they werent affectionate#i still remember when i got hugged by my tia on the last day we had our old house#that was the only the 2nd time i was probably hugged in so long#i really can't remember ever being embraced by my mom or even comforted by them#at least when i was sick my grandma would help me get better but even then#i was just left in a room all day until they got home in the afternoon and only saw them in the morning before they went to worm#and once they got bacj from work they were to tired to take care of me#i STILL remember being 8 years old with a cold having to make my own soup cause no one was home and erika had grown up to be so mean to me#so she nevr took care of me n stayed in her room... man i still remember feeling so lonely and wondering what it felt like to be cared for#its probably why when my mom would get sick i would automatically look to take care of her just to hear a thank you son#only to never hear a thank you son or you're such a wonderful son or anything positive just a grunt and a nod...#man thinking of my childhood makes me wonder why i dont remember it at all#did i disassociated do most of my childhood cause i only remember the bad parts which was a majority of my childhood#the only things i remember that were good was when my dad would take me to the movies every Saturday to try and get to know me#but then that stopped when it became an inconvenience to him and instead he wanted to go drink at his moms house with his family#i swear thinking back now i realized why i was so attached to any sign of kindness
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And then there were three.
Eddie munson x pregnant!reader
Summary: you and Eddie find out you're pregnant.
Warnings: fluff, talks of pregnancy, pulling out, condoms etc. Talks of sex. Kissing.
WC: 2.5k
A/n not proofread. I'm posting because it's been rotting away in my drafts. Sorry if this isn't good. I don't even remember what it's about.
18+ minors dni
"This can't be real..." You whispered to yourself as you stared blankly at the piece of plastic in your hands. Staring at two little pink lines.
Two little tiny pink lines telling you you're pregnant. How? You and Eddie have always been careful. You used protection every single time you had sex.
You've had scares in the past where your periods were weeks late. But when you ended up being over a month late this time around. You decided it was time to take a test. You had a gut feeling you might have been pregnant.
You were exhausted more so than usual. Extremely sensitive and had nausea every morning and evening. Were you surprised? No. Shocked? Yes. There was a little part of you hoping you were wrong. A baby right now just wasn't in yours and Eddie's plan.
You've only been dating for almost two years now. While having a family with him is something you do want. Getting a head start right now just wasn't ideal. You only just moved in together this past summer.
Now that you hold this little test strip in your shaking hands, you know you'll have to break the news to your boyfriend eventually. He's out in the living room watching The Golden Girls. A show you never would have guessed was his favorite. You heard his laughter echoing around the trailer during the cheesecake episode.
Was he going to be mad? Would he scream and yell at you? Blame this all on you? You thought to yourself. You felt like you were going to throw up out of nervousness.
No. Eddie wouldn't be upset with you over something like this. He isn't that type of person. No matter how others viewed him to be. He isn't like that. You can't even remember a time he raised his voice to you. You soothed yourself down, taking deep breaths.
Opening up the bathroom door, you make your way over to him.
"Hey baby, come watch." He pats the cushion next to him.
You swallow hard. "Uh, can we turn this off for a sec?"
Eddie looks up, noticing there was something very wrong with you.
"Uh, sure." He grabbed the remote, switching the tv off.
"Well, there isn't any better way to tell you this, so I'm just gonna say......I'm pregnant." You blurted out.
Eddie laughed at first. "Pregnant. Okay." He takes a sip of his beer. His laughter quickly died when you saw the serious and very scared look on your face.
"You took a test?" He gulped.
"Yeah, just a few minutes ago." You swallow another lump in your throat.
You immediately start to panic again, "We're always careful. I don't know how this happened."
Eddie stands to quickly be by your side. He hasn't really had time to process what you just told him. His immediate focus right now is calming you down.
We're careful...WE'RE ALWAYS CAREFUL!" You shouted. Your face is growing hot, and you feel like you could pass out any moment.
"You always wear a condom you fuckin' keep them in your wallet for christ sake"
"I know, baby, but I mean those things don't always work," Eddie reassured you softly, rubbing your back.
"We're always careful." You repeated again.
"Well, let's think back to when we weren't careful." He's trying to help put the pieces together. There had to have been a time when you both were so caught up in each that he didn't put on a condom or something.
"When was there a time I didn't at least wear one?"
"I dunno." You tap your fingers against your forehead. While Eddie guides you to sit down on the couch. "There had to have been a night - where - we..." You trailed off.
"My parents," you gasped loudly, snapping your fingers together.
His brows shoot up, and his eyes widen. He suddenly remembers that night very, very well. But he pulled out. He knows he did.
"When we stayed the night because of the storm" You continued on. The memory of that night flooding back to you. That was it. Eddie had promised to pull out right before he finished - yet obviously didn't do it in enough time.
There was something in the air that day. You couldn't pinpoint what it was. You had told Eddie to behave, but at dinner, you were the one misbehaving. Teasing him a little. Trying to get a rise out of him. You didn't think he was still going to be worked up even after it was time for bed. You were wrong. Very wrong.
"Huh," Eddie sounded utterly perplexed. He moves to sit down next to you. trying to bring you any amount of comfort he can offer.
"Huh what?" You repeated back to him. Why wasn't he as freaked out like you?
"Jus' the fact that I got you pregnant on a pull out couch is fucking ironic" He was in disbelief. Absolute disbelief. He knew pulling out wasn't his strong suit, but he never thought from just that one time would get you pregnant.
Was Eddie upset you were pregnant? No. Not at all. Having kids with you was something he always saw in your future together. How could he be so stupid, though? He thought. The one time he doesn't use a condom and you get knocked up.
"Are you--are you joking right now?" Your mouth hangs open. "Don't joke, please don't joke."
"Hey, hey, it's okay. Everything will be okay. " He pulls you to him. Your head lays flat against his chest. He was trying to be supportive, but on the inside he's freaking out. When he freaks out, he makes dumb jokes to lighten the mood. Something he knows he shouldn't have done, but it's too late now.
"Sooooo at yours parents place it was then." He draws out leaning forward to rest a hand under his chin.
"I guess." You murmured.
Eddie smiles fondly to himself. He most definitely remembered that day. That night, most importantly.
"....well," He perks up, jumping up to stand. He was trying to be as optimistic as possible. Truthfully, on the inside, he was freaking out. If you weren't sitting there in front of him right now, he would probably be pissing himself. Eddie knows you would be an amazing mother to his children. He most definitely knows he would be a great father, too. A complete contrast to how his father was.
"Time to make some calls." He was already heading for the phone when you panicked, running over to stop him. "We can't not yet--i need to see a doctor first."
"To make sure I am...I mean I know I am, but I need confirmation,"you further explained. Eddie just stood there listening to you and agreed as he silently nodded his head.
"Okay, well, after we see the doctor, who are we telling first? Your parents or my parent?" He was so eager to tell everyone. He was terrified, but the more he thought about it, the more excited he became. A tiny little version of you and him mashed together, running around.
"We'll tell Wayne first." You said matter of factly. You loved your parents, but you were closer to his uncle. He was like a second father to you, and you couldn't imagine anyone else knowing before him.
Eddie smiles and leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.
"You scared?" He whispered leaning his forehead against yours.
...a-a little, but we'll be fine." You whispered back. The longer it sinks in that you're pregnant, the panic seems to fade. Eddie wasn't angry with you. He was scared you could tell but that's to be expected.
"Don't be scared, baby. We're doing this together." He reassured before kissing your lips softly again. "M'gonna take care of you both."
It's been three weeks since you took your pregnancy test and had your doctor's visit. They confirmed you were, in fact, expecting. Two months, to be exact. You were greatfull you got pregnant in the winter. Oversized sweaters and hoodies were your best friends. Now, it was time to break the news to everyone.
Eddie and you had already agreed. Wayne was going to be the first to know. You had everything planned out. You had told Eddie to call his uncle and ask if he wanted to go out for dinner. Knowing Wayne, he wasn't going to pass up on an opportunity to spend time with either of you.
You wanted to surprise him with a gift. You know Wayne has a green thumb. He loves to garden. He brags about how he has the best tomatoes in Indiana. So you took Eddie shopping for the perfect gift to give to him as a cute way to tell him you and his nephew are having a baby. You hope he'll catch on and figure out he's going to be a grandpa when he opens his present. It's a little onesie with "Home grown" embroidered on the front with little veggies.
"I like this one." You pointed at the cute little outfit on the hanger.
Eddie chuckled,reading the front. "Wayne's gonna love it. Hell won't be surprised if he tried wearing it." He joked, picking up the tiny shirt off the rack.
You giggled, "I can't wait to tell him."
"Me too, I can't keep my mouth shut for much longer." He mumbled, smirking at some of the funny sayings scribbled on the baby clothes.
The longer you came to terms with the fact that you're pregnant, your stress eased up. Sure, you were still scared, but you had Eddie and your friends. Plus your family. You reassured yourself almost daily that you'd be fine and to enjoy your pregnancy. Every single article of clothing you saw you bought. Didn't matter the color or size. If it was cute, you picked it up.
Eddie was a nervous wreck in the beginning but concealed it well. Mostly because he knew he needed to be there for you. he was also excited, too. He couldn't wait to share his hobbies with his little one. Read them bedtime stories. Sing to them at night before bed. Teach them to play an instrument or two. He looked forward to showing up to the PTA meetings in his battle vest with his sweet "mini me" on his hip.
Eddie knew he was going to be a good dad. He promised you and the baby still in your tummy every night he'd protect the both of you. He couldn't keep his hands off your belly. You weren't far along in your pregnancy, but Eddie was constantly hoping he could feel a little kick.
"We should do the dinner today." Eddie mentioned holding a handful of baby clothes.
"He might wanna to do it tomorrow since he's off."
"I'll call'em when we get home and ask. he can't say no to me." You agreed. It's true Wayne can't say no to you. Which you will take advantage of.
Later on that day after you and Eddie arrived home. You put Wayne's surprise in a little gift bag with a note attached to it.
Picking up the phone, you began dialing his number patiently, waiting for him to pick up. He should be home by now. You thought. "Hey Wayne, it's me, your favorite. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me and Eddie tonight instead of tomorrow? "
Eddie leaned closer over in the wooden chair sat by the dining room table. He scoffs when he heard you get extatic on the other end. Knowing full well, his uncle said yes.
"You will? Okay, we'll pick you up at five o'clock sharp."
"Favorite, huh?" He crossed his arms with a smirk.
"You know it." You playfully mess up his hair as you run to your bedroom to get ready.
"Yeah, well, I've known him longer... I have seniority over him!" Eddie yelled out, teasing you.
He gets up from his chair, making his way to your shared bedroom. He stands there leaning in the doorway. Admiring you getting undressed in front of him. Taking in every curve on your figure.
Eddie moves to wrap his arms around you from behind. Pulling your back tight to his chest. His nose buried in the crook of your neck. You smiled softly, melting into his arms.
"Ya know, I was reading that baby book you bought it said something about sex helping induce labor." He whispered seductively in your ear. His lips trailing light kisses down your neck.
You turned your head."...Eddie, that's not until months from now." You let out a breathy laugh.
"Yeah, but just think about how well prepared you'll be when the time comes - kid is just gonna slide right out." Eddie argued. You know half of him is joking, and the other half is completely serious.
"Get dressed, babe. we leave in thirty minutes." You peel yourself from his tight grasp.
"Offer still stands." He holds up his hands in surrender.
Fifteen minutes went by, and there was a loud knock at your front door. His uncle had driven over so you all could ride together. After much bickering from Wayne, you all packed in Eddie's van.
Wayne refused to let Eddie drive, so it was you and him upfront with your boyfriend sulking in the backseat. Mumbling to himself about how he's not that bad and how everyone else just drives slow.
You noticed Eddie's uncle looking at the small gift bag you made up for him. His eyes kept wandering over to guess who it was for and what was inside.
Once all three of you pulled up in front of the new local diner in Hawkins. You three gathered in and let the hostess walk you over to your table. You and Eddie sat next to each other in a booth, leaving wayne alone across from you. The waitress comes over taking everyone's orders. After she left, you figured it was the perfect time to give it to him.
You look up at Eddie, nudging his side to grab his attention. His uncle just got done scolding him over his breaks needing change.
"So uh, we got you a present," Eddie coughed. He doesn't think he can handle more lectures from the man who practically raised him.
But he straightened up his back, preparing for anything.
"Yep here you go hope you like it." You picked up the bad next to you and placing it front of him.
"For me?" Wayne grabbed it and started taking the tissue paper out. "It ain't ma' birthday yet."
He laughs when he pulls out the tiniest little shirt he's ever seen. "Home grown, that's cute...I don't think it's gonna fit me though darlin-."
He cuts his sentence, short eyes growing wider by the second. You and Eddie look over at each other, smiling from ear to ear.
"Is this what I think it is?." Wayne questioned with tears threatening to spill over his lashes.
"Yep we're having a baby." Eddie moved to wrap an arm over your shoulder and pulling into his side.
"We wanted to tell you first." You choked back a sob.
Wayne still gathering his thoughts. He's holding the small onesie in his hand like he's already holding your newborn baby.
"I-I'm gonna be a grandpa?" Wayne wiped at his eyes. His was starting to become overwhelmed.
Here come the tears from Eddie now. His eyes swelling up and nose turning red. He's never seen Wayne this over come with emotions before. The only time he's ever seen him like that is when his dad started his usual mess. That was always just out of anger and frustrations mostly. This was pure joy and happiness. Wayne has always wanted the best for his nephew.
"We're thinking of naming them, Ozzy." Eddie tried to joke and lighten the mood.
Wayne couldn't say anything but only shake his head at nephew. He cleared his throat, grabbing napkins from the dispenser on the table.
"We are not." You spoke up, wiping your eyes.
Your food finally came, and the waitress gave all three of you a concerned look. A table full of adults bawling their eyes out is a cause of concern. Especially in this town. It was only when she noticed the tiny onesie folded up neatly beside wayne on the table, did her worry look drop. She mumbled a soft aww and set everyone's food down.
"Congratulations to all of you." She said with a warm smile.
The rest of the night went on like normal. Except now instead of Wayne fussing at Eddie for not eating healthy. He was doing that to both of you. Telling you how you need to order seconds because you're eating for two. Informing Eddie how the trailer needs to be baby proofed immediately. The only thing left to do was tell your parents next and his friends. You can only assume which of the two is going to freak out the most.
You leaned over and whispered to Edde, "You wanna tell Dustin next ooooor-?"
He side eyed you. " We're telling your parents next - if it makes you feel better, I'll be on the phone so they can yell at me instead."
"Deal?" Eddie leaned back in the booth, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He was busy focusing on Wayne's ranting and your concerns about telling your parents.
You sighed, dreading that phone call, but knowing it needs to be done. "deal."
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#dad!eddie munson#eddie munson x pregnant!reader
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PART 2 PLSSSSSSSSSSS
I need the comfort
ok ok ok ok ok mother's here - I've fixed it for you. Don't say I never did anything for ya 😉
part two of Mistake: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader
CW: angst, hurt and COMFORT
read part one here
Remus felt like he’d just been slapped. In fact, he was sure that if he looked in a mirror, he would see a red welt in the shape of your hand across his cheek.
Lupin?
You haven’t called him that since...well since you started dating. As a matter of fact, he can’t remember the last time you referred to him in any way other than some sickly-sweet pet name that he pretended embarrassed him, but he secretly preened at.
I’ll see you around.
What the hell did that mean? What just happened?
He felt stuck...perhaps he should go after you? But you told him to go check on Sirius: make sure he’s okay for me, yeah? And he meant what he had said – the three of you would be back to normal in no time. They’d catch up with you tomorrow.
Remus tried to replay every interaction you had tonight. You had asked how their days were...he replied and asked how yours was. Should he have asked you first?
He should have asked you first.
You tried making conversation, but Remus was so hyper focused on Sirius’ mood – afraid that he’d do or say something out of pocket that would hurt your feelings – that each attempt sort of fell flat. Remus had been there before – he’s witnessed Sirius’ tendency to self-sabotage and ruin a good thing once he finally has it, and he didn’t want that to happen again. Not with you.
He knew what Sirius really needed was some quiet; a chance to ponder and lament angrily inside his own head without outside influence.
Maybe they should have cancelled – rescheduled your study date for another time. Clearly his effort to protect you from any negativity was in vain.
But it was just a bad day, a blip, a one-off. You would all get some good sleep tonight and reconvene tomorrow.
Right?
Maybe he should have followed you.
But by the time he could manage to pry his feet from the floor of the library that he felt cemented to, you were gone.
He would just have to talk it out with you tomorrow.
Remus entered his dorm to find Peter already asleep on his bed, James finishing the Transfiguration essay that was due tomorrow morning on his own bed, and both Remus and Sirius’ beds empty.
“Pads around?” Remus asked James quietly as he began to shuck off his uniform. The quiet tone was mostly for courtesy’s sake knowing Peter could sleep through a stampede of hippogriffs.
James peered at Remus from above his glasses before nodding his head towards the bathroom door.
Sure enough, Remus found Sirius leaning against the shower stall with his eyes closed as the water cascaded around his form.
“You almost done, love?” Remus asked gently. Sirius spooked slightly as he turned to look at Remus; his eyes were red and glossy...he had been crying.
“You didn’t stay with her?”
Remus fought the urge to grimace, to heave, to turn around and run. He opted to gently shake his head. “No, she... said she got most of what she needed to do done.”
Sirius seemed to consider that as he sighed. “Was she terribly upset? I didn’t...I didn’t mean to be an ass. I know James always says I’m quick to take it out on others – I tried really hard not to, honest. I swear it, Rem I-”
Remus began shaking his head as he moved towards Sirius. He could tell by the smell in the bathroom that Sirius had already washed his hair and there were no more suds on his body, so he turned the water off and handed Sirius a towel.
“You were fine, Sirius. She’s – she’s fine.” He lied.
He lied. He lied to Sirius. About you.
But how could he look Sirius in the eye right now – Sirius who was currently standing naked, soaking wet, nearly hyperventilating, not over his disgusting parents but because he was afraid that he may have upset you – and tell him that between the maybe seven minutes since Sirius had left the library and now, Remus had completely mucked it all up?
The answer was: he couldn’t. He couldn’t look Sirius in the eye and admit that he may have just sabotaged your relationship.
It’s going to be fine. He tried to tell himself. We’ll fix this all tomorrow.
You felt beyond childish, hiding in your dorm room like some toddler throwing a temper tantrum. But you had decided last night that what you really needed was space. Some breathing room. A chance to see this from a different lens. A different perspective.
And you couldn’t do that when your heart was breaking. And being around Remus and Sirius felt like that right now.
It felt heart breaking.
And perhaps that was your answer right there. If this was causing you heart ache, why were you doing it to yourself? To them? You didn’t deserve that, and neither did they.
But it wasn’t just this you were worried about. It was more than just this relationship – it was the friendship that preceded it. It was the meshing of you into their circle of friends. You were their friend long before you were ever their girlfriend. You wouldn’t just be losing Remus and Sirius: your boyfriend’s; you’d also be losing Remus and Sirius: your friend’s.
Maybe you should have thought about that before you said yes.
Suddenly, you were a little angry: they had asked you to be their girlfriend – not the other way around! Why would they put you through all of this for, what? For...
Was it really for nothing?
“Are you coming to breakfast?” Shelby asked you quietly from the door. You shifted your head on the pillow to make eye contact with her. “No, I’ve got some things to work on. I think I’ll hang out up here today.”
She seemed to consider you, eyes squinting and mouth pursing before she offered a curt nod. “I’ll bring something back for you then.”
You smiled gratefully at her. At least you knew if you did lose Remus and Sirius, you would still have friends who cared about you.
Sirius spent most of his life believing he’d never be worthy of nice things. He was raised by monsters which meant he was a product of monsters; he was basically a monster.
He knew that the Black Darkness was always simmering just below the surface. It was archetypal of Black’s to explode; to lace their words with venom and strike at their victim, always aiming for the jugular. It had been Sirius’ own M.O. for his whole life. He had nearly lost everyone who ever meant anything to him on account of it. He had almost lost Moony.
Which is why it was so important to him that you never end up the latest victim of his Black Darkness. He was so afraid of disappointing you, letting you down, making you feel unloved. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to live with himself if he slipped – if he said something or did something to make you hate him.
And it wasn’t just you he was worried about hurting; he knew if he hurt you, Remus would likely never forgive him.
Remus may have forgiven Sirius for his Darkness once; he didn’t want to risk trying for a second time. Sirius felt he’d hit his threshold for forgiveness – one more sin and he’d be on his own, surely.
So, he walked away. He tried to do it nicely – to excuse himself politely, assure you he’d be back in no time.
But he still left.
It was cowardly.
He needed to talk to you.
Which is why Sirius could be found that morning sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, knee bouncing frantically under the table and his body turned towards the entrance – waiting for you to make an appearance.
Except, you never came.
“Wait, Shelby just walked in without her. Where is she?” He asked despondently, turning towards Remus.
Remus watched as Shelby and a few of your other friends sat at their usual places without you. “Come on.” He said quickly as the two of them stood and made their way over.
“Hey Shelby. Do you know where Y/N is?” Remus asked quietly, hoping his guilt didn’t permeate his tone. Unfortunately, under Shelby’s scrutinizing glance, he was sure he had been found out.
“She’s in the dorm.” She said flatly, looking between the two boys.
Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus before continuing. “Erm, do you...do you know why?”
Shelby furrowed her brows “all she said was she had ‘some things to work on’ and that she’d be in the room today.”
Remus hissed under his breath and pulled Sirius aside.
“Pads, I’m sorry, but I think-”
“What is going on?” Sirius interrupted.
“Last night, I... I think Y/N was upset?”
“Upset? With me?” Sirius asked, shame worming its way through every cell in his body.
“I don’t know. I... I don’t think so. But she...she said she’d ‘see me around’ and then called me Lupin.”
All blood drained from Sirius’ face as he considered Remus’ words.
See him around...see him around!? What the hell did that mean? Did you not plan on seeing them again? Oh gods...you never planned on seeing them again.
“Rem...” Sirius breathed out, leaning against a pillar for support.
“I know, I don’t-”
“Good grief, what’s gotten into you two?” James commented as he walked into the Great Hall with Lily, who opted to carry on in her search for Regulus as James took in the state of his two friends.
“Well? What’s got you in such a twist?” He pressed when neither boy offered an explanation.
“It’s Y/N.” Remus admitted.
“She’s leaving us.” Sirius blurted.
“Okay, we don’t know that.” Remus conceded.
Sirius scoffed. “Well, she basically told you to go fuck yourself last night and now she’s avoiding us; what do you call that?”
“She didn’t tell me to go fuck myself!”
James groaned and rolled his eyes before grabbing Remus and Sirius’ shirts and dragging them over to the Slytherin table.
“That’s it. You guys need to talk to Regulus.” James muttered.
“Regulus?!” Sirius sputtered, looking at James incredulously. “I’m not asking my baby brother for relationship advice.”
“You’re not asking for relationship advice. You’re asking for his perspective on his own relationship.”
“Ew! That’s worse! I don’t want to hear about my baby brother’s relationship with my adoptive brother.”
“Oh for- you are going to listen to Regulus’ perspective on what it’s like being added to a polyamorous relationship last.” James pressed, tone implying no nonsense.
Sirius (unwillingly) and Remus (placidly) were dragged to the dark side (read: the Slytherin table) to be read their Miranda Rights have their asses handed to them by one Regulus Arcturus Black.
“Reg, dear. I’m begging, pleading, on my hands and knees: put the poor sods out of their misery.” James said as he bodily sat Remus and Sirius on the bench across from Regulus.
Lily snickered and poked her nose into Regulus’ cheek, causing the youngest Black to blush, though the rest of his face remained stoic as he sized Sirius and Remus up.
“What have the two of you done now?” He drawled. “I can’t help but notice one third – arguably the better third - of your little trio is missing.”
Sirius scoffed, though he didn’t argue – Regulus wasn’t wrong per se; he loved Moony, but you were indeed the best of the bunch.
James cleared his throat pointedly as he shot Remus and Sirius a look.
“Right, er” Remus started awkwardly. “We seem to have, uhm. I mean to say that-”
“Why does Y/N hate us?” Sirius spat, slapping a hand over his mouth immediately afterwards as if those words had fallen from his mouth without his consent.
“Y/N? As in your girlfriend, Y/N?” Regulus asked, moving his eyes between his brother and his brother’s boyfriend.
“Yes, as in our girlfriend.” Remus muttered.
“What did you say to offend her?” James asked unhelpfully.
“Do you think if we knew that, we’d be here right now?” Sirius spat back.
“No, I don’t think that.” Regulus answered for him. “What I think has probably happened is she’s feeling terribly insecure in your relationship and neither of you have done anything to help her.”
Well that shut Sirius up... Sirius noticed that Remus was pretty quiet too.
“Were...” Sirius asked, grimacing when he looked over at Lily and James knowing this was teetering slightly into the realm of things-he-doesn’t-really-want-to-know-about-his-brother’s-relationship-with-his-best-friend territory. But damnit, Sirius was as desperate man. And desperate times called for desperate measures. “Were you terribly insecure when you started dating...these two?” Sirius sneered the end of his sentence earning him a ‘hey!’ from Lily and a solid whack up the back of the head from James.
“Yes.” Regulus answered simply.
“Why?” Remus asked, looking desperately close to pulling out his notebook to take notes. Scratch that, Sirius watched as James swallowed a teasing remark when Remus actually pulled out a notebook to take notes.
“It’s hard coming after. There’s a part of your brain that convinces you that you are second best; that you’ve somehow come in second place. If that’s not bad enough, then you begin spending time with two people who already have history, already have a connection, and already have a rhythm that doesn’t leave much room to pull you into the mix. And if it does pull you into the mix, you end up feeling terribly guilty for disrupting that rhythm. It’s all quite difficult.”
Sirius’ mouth hung open at Regulus’ demure tone on what sounded like a really heartbreaking situation.
“Let me ask you this,” Regulus continued, unawares of Sirius’ inner dialogue (which consisted mostly of panicked ‘oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods). “How has your relationship – between the two of you – changed since you added a third?”
Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance before looking back at Regulus. “Uhm...not, really?”
“Not much at all.” Remus admitted more clearly.
“I see...” Regulus said, narrowing his gaze. “And how much time have each of you spent with her individually without the other present?”
Regulus got his answer in the form of awkward silence.
“How did either of you expect your relationship to work if neither of you were willing to change the nature of yours in order to help it grow?” Regulus spat.
“Well...” Remus started, but his sentence died when he realized there was nothing to say.
“But...you stayed? Why?” Sirius asked his brother.
At this, Regulus’s face fell as he gave Sirius a sad smile. “Because of how we were raised, Sirius. I was so excited to be wanted, even for a moment, that I was willing to beg for scraps of whatever I could sink my claws into. She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.”
James and Lily looked forlorn as the latter placed her hand on Regulus’ shoulder consolingly.
“It didn’t hurt to have the walking definition of unconditional love and the smartest, most intuitive witch I know to notice any discontent on my part.” He admitted shyly, earning him a smack of a kiss on the cheek from James.
“Gross. You guys are sickening.” Sirius muttered petulantly.
“So?” Lily interrupted what was close to becoming a squabble between the two Black brothers. “What are you guys going to do?”
Remus sported a determined expression as he looked to Sirius. “We’re going to make it right.”
Shelby stood by her word and brought your breakfast. She also brought you lunch, and then dinner. But by the following morning, she was tired of playing the role of house elf.
“Alright, are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding Lupin and Black?” She asked plainly, plopping herself down uninvited onto your bed.
“Wha-? I’m ... I’m not avoiding them.” You lied poorly.
“Please; don’t spit on my muffin and call it frosting, Y/N. You’re obviously avoiding them.”
“I...ew?”
She groaned and fell onto her back in defeat. “Please, for all that is holy, tell me why they’ve been following me around like kicked puppies hoping I’ll take them to their master?”
You rolled your eyes and turned back to your book that you held open but had never been reading. “Yeah, I’m sure they’re real upset.” You muttered.
“That’s it.” She spat and plucked your book out of your hands, throwing it over her shoulder unceremoniously. You cringed to think about how Remus would feel seeing a book treated in such a way.
“I was reading that!”
“Don’t lie to me again.” She said, levelling you with a ‘no nonsense’ look. “Spill.”
You sighed deeply, looking toward the window to try and find the words you’d spent the last 24 hours trying to formulate. She never rushed you for your answer, giving you all the time you needed.
“I feel insignificant.” You admitted finally.
“And?”
You turned to face her, bemusement painting your features. “What do you mean, and?”
“And... have you spoken to them about it?”
You felt a little embarrassed to admit that no, you hadn’t.
“Why not?”
And that simple question seemed to set off all the emotions (mostly frustration) that simmered beneath your surface.
“Because Shelby. Because I don’t want to have to beg for love and affection. I don’t want to have to tell people how to love me; they should just already love me. I don’t want to feel like I’m intruding in someone else’s relationship. I don’t want to have to point out that I’m here and I’m hurting. It’s mortifying. I... I think I’m just done.”
Shelby nodded in understanding before she stood from your bed. “Then you need to finish this today. No more hiding in your room being angry by yourself, and no more letting them sniff around the castle like dejected little runts. Put all three of you out of your misery.”
It was your turn to nod as you too stood from your bed, ready to face possibly one of the most heartbreaking days of your life.
But Shelby was right; it was time.
The worst part was that Shelby had been telling the truth; Remus and Sirius did look like kicked puppies.
The second you had entered the Great Hall you heard a crash of knees against benches and cutlery clashing as Sirius clumsily tried to vacate his seat in record time to make it over to you.
“Y/N!” He called, as if you could have missed the racket he made just prior.
He looked gaunt – like he hadn’t eaten or slept enough (in the only less than 48 hours) since you’d seen him last. His eyes were red and a little swollen, like he’d been rubbing at them.
You immediately felt sick with guilt; if he really was struggling with things with his family, the last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. But Sirius was looking after himself, and Remus was looking after him too; someone needed to think about you. You had to look after yourself.
Remus didn’t look much better, approaching the two of you much more slowly, hardly making eye contact with you as if you’d lash out at any moment. You had to admit that it annoyed you a little bit.
“Hi Sirius.” You offered, voice grating over the sudden tightness. “Remus.”
Some of the tension seemed to leave Remus’ shoulders as he made an effort to make eye contact with you.
“Can we talk?” He asked timidly.
You knew what was coming, what was happening, what you yourself had come here planning to do.
But it broke your heart nonetheless.
“Sure.” You whispered, and exited the Great Hall without waiting to see if they were following you.
You walked into an empty classroom and leaned against one of the walls as Remus and Sirius closed the door behind them. They shared another look and stood opposite of you.
More secret conversations. You thought bitterly. And doesn’t this just paint a lovely picture; them versus you.
“Y/N. We, uhm...we’ve been talking, and we realized that...that maybe we haven’t gone about this the right way.” Sirius started, looking at Remus continuously as he addressed you.
We’ve made a terrible mistake.
“We didn’t take into account the ways in which our relationship would have to change in order to make the three of us work” Remus added.
We didn’t realize how much you’d take away from us, you heard
“We feel like we’ve been unfair to you, and... we’re really sorry.” Sirius concluded, looking like his heart had been ripped out of his rib cage. You supposed that would make sense, considering that’s how you currently felt yourself.
It probably hurt all the same to them – they’d be losing the friendships the three of you had created too; the friendship you had with Remus, the friendship you had with Sirius, and the fun the three of you had all together. But you still loved them, and the last thing you wanted to do was to interfere in their relationship.
“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” You admitted finally. “It was just a mistake.”
Remus’ head cocked to the side like a confused puppy whilst Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed. “Well...I, I’m not sure-” Remus started but was cut off by Sirius.
“Wait, Y/N, what exactly do you think the mistake was?”
You looked between the two of them as you lifted your shoulder. “I... I guess including me?” You stated as a question.
Sirius actually sputtered as Remus stepped towards you, stopping himself seemingly before he made to grab you.
“No! No, Dove. That’s not a mistake!” He insisted.
“Are you kidding? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us – no, no. This...wow, okay. Can we start from the beginning, please? Why do you think this was a mistake?” Sirius managed to (barely) get out.
You looked to the ceiling, eyes stinging at the reality of having to voice your hurt. “Because” your voice came out embarrassingly high. “Because it-it felt...better when we were friends. I didn’t feel...in the way. And it felt easier. Just - I didn’t mean to come in between you, and I never...” you cut yourself off, quickly moving into hyperventilating territory.
“But-”
“It’s not a mistake!” Sirius shouted, cutting Remus off. “This wasn’t a mistake! You weren’t a mistake. I... okay. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, that’s true. But I don’t consider that a mistake. Not you, never you.”
“It was a surprise; a happy accident.” Remus added hopefully shy.
You felt drunk...dizzy...beyond confused. Weren’t they breaking up with you? Weren’t you supposed to be breaking up with them!?
“I think it was easier when we were friends because we weren’t putting so much pressure on ourselves to get this right.” Sirius explained.
Remus nodded and continued. “Sirius used to get so jealous if I got to hang out with you without him if he was at practice – took us a while to figure out that it was because he wished he was the one hanging out with you. When we started dating, I guess Sirius and I figured we’d just make sure to always hangout with you together so that neither of us felt left out. But we never even thought about how that must’ve been making you feel, dove. I’m so sorry.”
“Regulus read us our rights.” Sirius admitted abashedly. “He pointed out that the relationship between the three of us will only work if our relationships with each other are strong. And we didn’t make our individual relationships with you a priority – that was our mistake, Y/N. Not you.”
“Our mistake was believing you would just ‘catch up’ to where we are – which is years in the making – and also expecting you to somehow do that on your own. It was selfish and thoughtless.” Remus stressed
The things they were saying made sense and spoke to your very soul, but you couldn’t shake off this lingering feeling of dread.
“I... I should have said something... about how I was feeling.”
Sirius sighed, but it was Remus who spoke. “I think all of us could have done a better job communicating, that’s true. But we should have been more considerate. We asked you to join us, dove; we should have made that easy for you to do.”
“To think how much grief we’ve caused ourselves, when we could have just solved this all with a conversation.” Sirius mumbled dejectedly.
“We’re not too late, are we? To solve this?” Remus asked quietly. Sirius’ eyes looked like they were close to popping out of his skull as he stood and made for you, grabbing your hands pleadingly.
“Oh gods, Y/N. You... you were breaking up with us, weren’t you? You thought we were breaking up with you?” His voice sounded very close to a sob.
“Please...please dove I- I don’t know that we deserve it, but please give us a chance to make this right, to do this properly. Give us a chance to love you the way you deserve.” Remus begged, moving to stand in front of you with Sirius, though he controlled his urge to grab your hands.
You looked between the two boys; the two boys who you’ve been basically in love with for so long – the two boys who have proclaimed to feel the same way about you - and wondered to yourself again:
Have we made a terrible mistake?
Remus’ golden eyes shimmered with compassion and warmth, and Sirius burned fiercely in devotion and promises.
Had you made a mistake? Falling in love with them?
No.
Perhaps Remus was right. Perhaps this was a happy accident.
“Okay.” You whispered. Remus exhaled the breath he’d been holding while Sirius’ face morphed into a small, hopeful kind of smile – far shyer than you were used to seeing from the boy.
“Okay?” He asked, moving his hands up from your wrists to your shoulders.
“Yeah... I-I don’t want to lose you guys.” You admitted wetly, a tear betraying you as it fell down your cheek. Sirius was quick to catch it with his thumb.
“Never, dove. Not if I can help it.” Remus promised.
You believed him.
taglist: @cyripticchronicler @orphicmortala @hcqwxrtss123 @ssc7514 @misacc08 @ashie-babie @milkyasteroids, @maqqiekwon @daisiesformylove @littlenerdybee @allllium
#ask elle#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#wolfstar#poly!wolfstar#poly!wolfstar x reader#poly!wolfstar x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#angst#hurt/comfort#ellecdc fics
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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive?
Danny: Oh, really?
And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to.
If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup.
Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty.
Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week.
Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em…
Johnny 13: Suck?
Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me.
Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it.
Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years.
Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success.
Johnny 13: When did you get drunk?
Danny: I didn’t.
Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that?
Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems?
Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it.
~~~~~
Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please.
Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough?
Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break.
Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now..
Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving.
Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny.
Jason: There’s nothing funny about that.
Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work.
Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right?
Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid.
Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint.
Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now.
Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up.
Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know?
Hood *raises eyebrows*.
Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley.
Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight.
But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea.
Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan?
Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession.
Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice.
Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature.
Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work.
Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.
Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc au#dpxdc memes#dpxdc crossover#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dead on main#dead on main ship#alcohol
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what if Danny give no fu-ks
Ok hear me out, Dannys obsession has never truest been confirmed by the show itself (that I remember) I've seen a lot of people say his obsession comes from wanting to help / protect people. But what if he feels as though that he is now doing more damage than good, after all there are a lot of people getting hurt as colateral damage from the chases he has to go on. Or simply when he has to run away from getting captured.
What if one night he was up late and saw a post about a tragedy that happened because he slipped up (it wasn't even his fault, but he still blames himself for everything). And then he starts looking at all the bad comments against him ignoring all the good ones saying how much Danny Phantom has helped Amity. Because Danny is still human and confirmation bias is real. Imagine how he felt the moment he realized that he was causing people to get hurt instead of keeping them save.
Image the desperation clawing at him with the realization that he has never been able to fully manage his obsession. it makes him sad, desperate, angry.
His entire self is filled with too many emotions at the sametime he isn't even able to identify them and catalogue them properly like Jazz taught him.
and then everything stops and he feels nothing.
Completely and utterly numb.
Like his whole reason to keep going suddenly disappears.
And it has.
He gave up on his obsession and now he has to make / get a new one.
But it's not that easy.
This drastic change could've ended any ghost as they run on (live off) emotions.
Luckily because he's a Halfa, so that has given him the upper hand. Unfortunately it makes it so that he is completely devoid of any emotion.
Months go by and people immediately notice changes, the more drastic one is that Phantom went missing, and eventually a lot of ghost that where coming in looking for him stop. Amity Park is no longer populated by ghosts, and slowly the GIW started to retreat from Amity going to another place following a lead that says there are more ghost activities up north.
But those changes aren't the only ones noticeable. Dannys classmates and teachers can vouch that Danny has changed. Most say he was always quite , and others say he looked down right depressed. Danny didn't do much in classes not that he paid attention before. Its just this time it seems that its not out of being sleepy or anxious about another ghost attacking the school instead Danny looks like he coundn't give less of a fu-k about anything.
He never smiles anymore not even when his favorite subjects (mechanics and space) are brought up. Not even a quirk of a smile. The school decided to contact his parents about Dannys new behaviors. That includes skipping classes, not handing in work, not doing the assigned work in class ect....
And its not like his parents havent noticed, they've had more time in their hands since they aren't using hours of the day/night going out hunting anymore. and they have witnessed their son become a shell of himself. They don't know what to do, and they don't want to worry Jazz about it because she's at collage and needs to focus on her studies.
So when the school contact them and told them that the behavior is the same in school they decided major changes needed to happen. Starting with a change of environment.
Maddie and Jack decided that Amity park was too big of a city with too many people. They could nearly see the stars at night because of the light pollution, hence they decided to move next door to Alicia, Maddie sister, home in SmallVille.
They decided it was the best choice, Danny would be surrounded by nature and he could do online classes that would go the pace he wanted. The move was immediate, the day off they packed everything sold the house and moved.
They only stopped to say goodbye to Danny's friends. A small bye and hug later they were on a 7 hour road trip to their new home.
When they got there the old resident handed them the keys of the home and told them to ignore the their neighbors 'The Kents' as they often made a lot of noice and had group gatherings every month.
The one thing Jack and Maddie forgot to double check was if the house was an actual house or a farm house. Sounds similar, but completely different as they now had 2 cows, 16 chickens, 1 rooster, and 3 pigs to take care off.
Danny was put on duty of taking care of the animals, such as feeding them on time and making sure they were healthy. Jack and Maddie made more of the heavy weight as to re building broken fences and fixing the questionable roof.
(The first thing Danny did when meeting all the animals was name them. After all this was about all the interaction he was going to do.)
Danny didn't have time to think about his lost obsession or his lack of emotions as he was now too busy making sure each animal was taken care off.
Marcy and linda (the cows) were danny's favorite they were very gentle and he felt that they could understand him when he spoke to them the stories of his vigilante past.
On the other hand The Chickens were a nightmare, Glinda was cool as she never chased him down. But Matilda and Bethany were a nightmarish duo spiteful too when he was seconds late to the finding time. Mark the rooster was chill he mainly acted as of he was part of the group that needed protection.
Marice, Betty, and Miss Piggy were the chillest of the bunch never gave Danny any trouble when feeding them and always made a point that they loved their new mudbath installation that Danny made for them on his first 2 days on the farm.
A month after arriving at the farm house Danny noticed that mark was missing. Danny looked everywhere around the property and saw him from afar, at the road. So Danny did the sensible thing anyone would do when spotting a run away pet, and that is call their name at the top of your lungs whilst running after them.
naturally Mark the escape artist run the opposite direction. By the time Danny caught up to him Danny didn't recognize the house he was infant off. So with Mark comfortably in his arms He swears he can see a smug look on marks face. Danny turned away from the house to start his walk back to the farm, but he was met with a kid his age looking at him with distrust.
"Ehhh look kid Im sorry to have crossed the properties border but Mark here" Danny made a point to acentuate Mark in his arms "Runaway from me this morning and I've been trying to catch him ever since, anyways I need to go feed the girls"
The kid starred at him for a second "OMG your from the new family in Mr.duncans farm right? in Aver ST.?" and wow the kid was like a ray of sunshine.
"Yea-" Danny could even finish his sentence before the kid cut him off by starting to talk a mile a minute about how he was so exited to meet people his age that lived near by and how farm chores were harder that normal house chores.
"Jon, give him time to respond. Im Damian this is Jon" Danny jumped he hadn't noticed the second kid at all
"Oh yeah... sorry about that what's your name?" The kid (Jon) slightly less enthusiasm, a bit embarrassed if his tone of voice was anything to get by.
"Danny, Im 15" he responded before he started walking away after all he did need to get in time to feed the chickens unless he wants to suffer their furry. Danny shuddered at the memory that popped up in his head.
"Wait!!! I just thought we could be friends cause we live close by u know" Jon said catching up with Dannys steps. Damian was following from behind.
"Sure kid I don't care" Dannys voice was monotone much like it had been for months.
"Hey were not kids for your information, Im 14 and Damians 16 soon to be 17, so if anything you night be the actual kid!" Danny chuckled slightly it was more similar to releasing air from his lips than a laugh.
Soon a quite and enjoyable science encompassed the group as they went to Dannys home.
"Hmm... you're hold on Mark is adequate and the your determination for getting home in time for feeding is acceptable" Damian spoke up after a while of the passive silence.
"yeah and what is It to you" Danny was slightly urked by Damians default setting speach. He told him as such.
Jon blanched before erupting into giggles that sent him to lay down on the grass uncontrollably laughing. Damians right eyebrow quirked up in what Danny assumed was amusement.
Thus a new friendship grew that day.
They often gathered at Dannys or Jons yard to have picnic in the weekends (as Damian and Jon has school in Metropolis on week days) and hangout with the animals. Danny found out that Damian was a vegetarian and that he had various animals at home. One time he brought his Great Dane Titus, who bodied Danny on sight to give him kisses.
Also Damian was Damian Wayne as in bruce Wayne, Batman sugar daddy. When he said that, Jons milk flew out of his nose and Damian choked on his cucumber wrap. Even Titus gave him a judgemental stare.
Slowly Danny started to smile more, laugh every so often. And things were feeling so much better after not being able to feel anything for a while.
Jazz, Aunt Alicia and especially Maddie and Jack felt so relived to see that Danny was slowly coming back to them.
Danny to this day backs the fact that Mark knew something and planned the whole thing.
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#mark the chicken is definitely a meta with super intelligence
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“attention, freeloaders! daddy has an evening announcement to make.”
“never call yourself that,” megumi deadpans, already highly unamused by this meeting.
“anyway,” gojo begins, clasping his hands as he paces in front of the tv. “tonight is the night. you two know the drill.”
“yeah, we know the rules,” megumi interrupts again, throwing his head back against the couch. “can you move? the documentary is starting soon.”
tsumiki nudges his shoulder. “stop interrupting. it’ll be over faster if we just let him talk.”
“thank you, favourite child!” gojo smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss atop her head as her brother rolls his eyes. “as i was saying, tonight is our anniversary. so you will not call, text, email, fax, or even send nue with a letter. if you’re bleeding, call shoko. if you get arrested, call ijichi.”
“satoru?” you ask, stepping into the room. “are you ready to go? the car’s here.”
he takes a step back to look at you, pressing a hand to his chest as he breathes, “wow.”
“right?” you laugh, quickly glancing down at your dress. “i am gonna rock your world tonight, babe.”
“oh yeah? we should just kick these kids out and head to straight to bed then.” he’s in front of you in an instant, gently cupping the side of your neck to pull you in for a sloppy, heated kiss. one that he’s all too quick to deepen. his other hand drifting down the length of your back to grab your—
“gross,” megumi scoffs, prompting you to pull apart. “can you guys act like parents for once?”
“sorry,” you giggle, turning to face the kids as satoru rests his chin on your shoulder, sticking his tongue out at the teen. “i ordered food for you both already and it should be here in a few minutes, alright? call us if you need anything—”
“uh uh,” gojo cuts in, already pulling you towards the door. “don’t call us.”
“my phone is—”
“not going to be on!” gojo fills in, kneeling down to help you slip on your heels.
“we’ll be fine,” tsumiki assures you both. “go. have fun!”
“thank you, honey,” you smile, pulling her into a hug as gojo grabs your purse. “nanami will be here around 10 to stay the night with you guys. the guest bedroom is all set up.”
“so if you need anything, bug him. because we will be very busy.” gojo quips, lacing his fingers through yours. “c’mon, let’s get out of here. be good, you two!”
“goodnight!” you add, using your free hand to blow them two quick kisses before you’re pulled out the door.
_____
“okay babe, you know the deal,” gojo begins with the utmost seriousness as soon as you step into the hotel room, yanking at the knot of his tie. “first order of business is sex. loud, adult, no kids in the next room sex!”
“you’ve been waiting for this for a while, haven’t you?” you ask, though you’re already undoing the buttons of his shirt.
in exchange, his hands find the zipper of your dress, slowly dragging it down.
“oh, you have no idea,” he groans as you trail gentle kisses up his jaw. “we can’t get away with anything in that house.”
“we should make the most of this then.”
“oh, i intend to.”
_____
the two of you lay sunken into the mess of pillows and blankets on the bed, wholly satiated and tangled up in each other in the afterglow.
gojo’s tracing soft, nonsensical pattern across your back as he whispers to you in the dark. “hey, so i’ve been thinking…”
“uh oh.”
he pinches the tip of your nose. “i have good ideas from time to time.”
“alright,” you acquiesce with a roll of your eyes. “let’s hear it then.”
“remember way back then? when the kids were little and cute and didn’t talk back to us?”
“didn’t talk back to me, you mean?”
“whatever,” he laughs. “but you remember, right?”
“of course i do. god, megumi was so cute. and tsumiki! she always wanted her hair in pigtails. it was adorable.”
“right? wouldn’t it be great to have all that cuteness, but condensed into a tiny little baby?”
“you want to have a baby?” you echo, seeming genuinely surprised as you gaze up at him.
“yeah,” he shrugs, feeling his cheeks warm at the admission. “only if you want to.”
“you know babies are a lot more work than kids who have pretty much been self-sufficient since birth, right? we’d have to take time off work and—”
“i know.”
“we’ll have to go through potty training.”
“and we’ll do a much better job than toji. megumi wet the bed until he was seven.”
you slap his shoulder, reminding him that you both promised you’d never talk about that again.
“look we’ll— we’ll raise our kid right,” he assures you. “we had two free trials, and they turned out pretty great.”
“okay,” you breathe, because it’s true. the two of you raise great kids. “okay. before we do this, you need to promise me something right now.”
“anything,” he swears, pressing his lips to each of your knuckles.
“promise me nothing will happen to you,” you whisper, an edge of desperation behind your words. “because i can’t do any of this without you.”
his kiss is a promise in itself. it’s slow and sweet and you contentedly let yourself melt into it. “you don’t have to worry about any of that. you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#keeping up with the fushigojos
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Make things right? Or make them worse?
Yandere!doctor (platonic to his children) x twin daughters ocs x female!reader
Summary: Dr Kry’s children finds out their fathers dark secret, and he's determined to silence them.
Warnings: toxic household, yandere, favoritism, guilt, poison, mentions of murder (things along this way)
A/N: I have created my own poison for this story, so I choose the effects. Lol.
Word count: 6.2k
“Bye, dad”, Lydia says and closes the car door.
Her twin follows out of the car, almost hides behind her like a shadow. Lydia frowns confusedly. She’s been more silent than usual this morning. They turn to walk into school.
“Girls”, Dr Kry says through the open car window, catching their attention. “I want you here at three sharp, okay? I’m not in the mood for waiting.”
“Yes, sir”, Lydia answers.
“Good. Have a good day, girls, I’ll see you later.”
With that said, he drives off. Lydia turns to Nadia who finally raises her gaze from her feet.
“What’s wrong?” Lydia asks and fixes her backpack. “You’ve been acting off all morning.”
“I have to talk to you about something”, Nadia says hesitantly and looks at her with uneasy eyes.
Lydia blinked and frowned. “What?”
“I was meaning to talk to you earlier, but I didn’t want to do it when dad was around.” Nadia glanced at the other students swarming around the school grounds. “It’s about mom … and her sickness.”
For as long as they can remember, their mother has been bound to her bed by a rare disease. Thankfully, their father is a remarkable doctor and has been caring for her ever since the twins' birth. He works at a hospital in the city and travels forty minutes back and forth every day, dropping the twins off at school on the way there, and picking them up on the wayback. When they were young, they were put in a private school carefully chosen by their father — who has been very active in the administration.
Their father is a complex person. Although they’ve been by him their entire life, they still feel like they don’t know him. He rarely talks about himself, and seem to have a human side for their mother only. Very rarely, there’s a soft side for the girls … often they’re met by a doctor, rather than a parent. Despite that, Lydia has always been a daddy’s girl, while Nadia has clung to their mom for love and comfort.
“What about it?” Lydia asks carefully.
“I heard something …”, Nadia starts and licks her lips nervously. “I heard these noises, from mom and dad’s room-”
“Don’t tell me you heard them have sex”, Lydia grimaces.
“No …” Nadia shakes her head, eyes shaking. “They were talking. Mom was crying and daad was standing by the bed, holding her cheeks in his hands like this …” She cups her sisters cheeks in demonstration, “...while saying: ‘you’re never going back there, I’ll never share you like that again’.” She shivers. “I-I don’t know what that was, but it made me feel really weird.”
Lydia frowns, trying to picture the scene in front of her.
“Are you sure that it wasn’t just dad’s weird love language?” she asks carefully.
“I don’t know”, Nadia sighs defeatedly. “Mom seemed … scared. She looked up at him with eyes full of terror. She could have had a nightmare or something, but dad’s voice- … it was awful. I don’t know how to describe it, but it sounded extremely dark.”
“We could try to ask her.”
“What if dad hears?”
“I could distract him while you ask, if that helps you ease your worry.”
Nadia smiles gratefully. “Thank you, Lyd.”
Lydia gives her an unsure smile and grabs her hand and they walk into school.
Like Dr Kry had asked them to, they stand by the gates at three sharp. His white car rolls over and the two of them jumps in, Lydia in the front seat and Nadia in the backseat.
“How has your day been?” he asks and drives off.
He always asks about their classes, teachers and friends. If there’s a small detail he doesn’t like, he makes sure to contact the school and let them know his thoughts. More than one friendship has ended thanks to his overprotectiveness and the twins has learned to dilute the truth enough for him to be able to swallow it. So once again, they answer in the way he wants to hear it.
The car drives from the city, gets off the highway and enters a countryside road. The dirt road is divided in the middle with grass, creating enough space for the wheels of his white car to roll forward. Here, nothing can be heard except the sounds of distant birds. Their white, edwardian villa is surrounded by a deep, dark forest, close to a gigantic sparkly lake with the closest neighbor being a kilometer away. Despite the isolating upbringing the twins have had, getting away from the noisy, stressful city to the empty forest always cleanse their brains.
The white, Scandinavian, edwardian aged, wooden villa appears behind the trees like a castle. The house has two floors with a green atticroof, and a bushy, blooming garden in the same color, two glass verandahs on either side of the house and a white fence around the garden.
The twins get out of the car. Nadia gives her a look and Lydia nods.
“Dad”, she says. “I’ve been feeling a bit weird these last days … I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Really?” Dr Kry asks and frowns. He closes the trunk of the car. “Who have you been around? Are any of the other students sick?”
“A few.”
“Nadia, are you feeling bad too?”
“No”, Nadia replies.
“Could you please give me a check up?” Lydia asks.
“Alright, come with me”, Dr Kry says and nods at her to follow him.
While they walk inside, their father and Lydia walks to the living room and Nadia sneaks off upstairs. She moves carefully to their parents’ room and knock gently on the door before entering. Their mother, you, is lying in bed with a book in her hand. You look as weak as ever. Nadia shivers.
“Hi, sweetheart”, you smile and puts down your book on your chest. “Did you have a good day in school?”
“Yes …”, Nadia mumbles and sits down on the side of the bed, unsure on how to start this absurd conversation.
“What’s wrong, Nadia?”
“What happened yesterday? WIth you and dad?”
You flinch. Your smile disappears for a moment for it to appear quickly again, but this time in a fake manner.
“Why did he say that?” Nadia asks carefully. “Why did he say that he wasn’t going to share you again?”
“O-Oh, that …”, you mumble with an embarrassed smile. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it. It was just some adult stuff that me and your dad were talking about.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, honey. Why? Did it make you worry?”
Nadia nods slightly. Y/N gives her a smile and takes her hand.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s nothing to be afraid of”, you reassure Nadia. “Whatever happens between me and your dad is nothing you have to be afraid of. We will always put you and your sister first, okay? There’s nothing you have to be worried about. I love you, darling.”
“I love you too, mom …”
You hug her, and Nadia hugs back, but she can’t help but feel that her heart sinks. Something isn’t right.
The very next day when they’re left off at school, Nadia grabs Lydia’s arm.
“Let’s go to the hospital”, she says the second their father’s car disappears behind the corner. She holds up a metallic key. “I have the key to mom’s old room.”
“What?” Lydia asks in confusion. “Why?”
“I have a feeling that mom isn’t really sick and I have to take a look around in her old hospital room. Something isn’t right!” She clears her throat and lowers her voice. “Mom and dad met at the hospital and that he was her doctor, that much we know, right?”
Lydia nods, trying to follow along.
“Isn’t it weird that a doctor as professional as our dad decided to start a relationship with a patient like that?” Nadia asks, sounding unsure. “And wouldn’t he have done everything he could to make mom feel better? Shouldn’t she be better now? I just … I want to know if he has done something.”
“Do you really think he has?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. But something isn’t right, and I feel that. Mom seemed to be put on the spot when I asked her about the interaction I had overheard. She seemed scared.” Nadia grabbed her hand in hers. “Please, Lyd, can we go there and just take a look?”
Lydia hesitates and glances at the private school behind them, contemplating the consequences.
“Please”, Nadia repeats. “If mom is getting hurt, I want to help her.”
“Okay”, Lydia nods.
With that said, they hurry past the school gates before a teacher has the time to catch them. They take the first bus to the state hospital their father works at and hope that he’s with a patient while they sneak around.
They hurry inside the hospital and keep their heads down to make sure that none of the working receptionists would recognise them and report to their father right away. They stay silent until they get into the elevator.
Once out, they sneak over to the door. Lydia stands guard as Nadia presses the key into its lock. The click from the key opening echoes in the empty corridor. Nadia’s hand hovers above the door handle. Her heart twirls around uncomfortably. In a moment, she will be in the room where their parents met, where something happened that made their dad take the decision of stepping over the professional line. If that was good or bad is yet to be known, but she can’t help but feel worried.
The room is empty, in more than one way. The spirits of old memories haunt the room and they leave a sour taste in the twins’ mouths. Lydia looks towards the bed. Their mother has been lying here for months with a sickness that has kept her bed bound for years. But what happened while she was here?
“What are we looking for?” Lydia wonders.
“Anything”, Nadia shrugs and looks around. “Whatever that can help us is fine. Journals, reports, notes — anything.”
They start to rummage through drawers, in binders and notepads. Lydia finds herself holding a yellow paper binder with their mother’s name written on it, in their father’s handwriting.
“Nad, look at this”, Lydia says and holds up the binder.
They put the binder on the desk and start to pull out papers. Every paper is written from the top to the bottom in ink.
“He has documented her every day …”, Lydia says, perplexed. She shakes her head in denial. “Every single day, every single hour. Obsessively. Look, every little detail is written down. ‘12:35, eaten an apple’, ‘16:52, took a shower’, ‘22:30, called for me on the telephone’. What is this?”
Nadia picks up another paper, a smaller, clearly supposed to be hidden between the other sides. She puts her hand over her mouth as her eyes widens.
“Oh no”, she gasps and drops the paper. “No, no, no, no …”
Lydia frowns, bends down and picks up the paper. Her heart sinks as she reads the note. It’s a single word, but they’re familiar with it. They’ve found bottles of it in the cellar and the attic multiple times, and when they asked Dr Kry about it, he answered that it was a substance to kill vermin.
“He’s poisoning mom”, Nadia whispers in horror and looks at her twin with wide, terrified eyes.
Lydia feels the air disappear from her lungs. Suddenly, she feels nauseous. She sits down on the rolling stool and tries to control her breathing. Nadia sinks down on the bed with her head in her hands.
“What the fuck do we do?” Lydia breathes out with her eyes staring dimly in front of her. She has never felt this empty before, this helpless. “What the fuck do we do now, Nadia?”
“W-We have to call the cops”, Nadia gulps.
“The cops? Nad, he’s our dad!”
“But if he hurts mom …” Her voice dies out. “We can’t let him take more years from her.”
Lydia nods and wipes the few tears that have begun to run down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she unzips her backpack and shoves the binder down. They will need evidence if they have to prove to the cops.
The door behind them opens. Both girls fly up from their positions and scurry over to each other. Dr Kry walks in and stops abruptly in the door.
“What are you doing here?” he asks quickly.
He’s trying to force a smile, but the red eyes of his daughters and the trembling bodies of theirs are all he needs to see, to know that they know.
“How fucking could you?!” Nadia screams.
Dr Kry hurries to close the door as she continues to shout through sobs.
“What’s your deal with mom?!” she screams. “How can you keep her like this?! Where’s your fucking conscience?!”
She thinks that she’s going to explode in pure fear, anger and sorrow. Dr Kry clenches his jaw and sighs heavily.
“Your mother is a very, very special person”, he says slowly, as if he is talking to a ticking bomb. “It is all a misunderstanding, girls, I will tell you everything at home. Come, we’re going home now.”
“We’re not going anywhere with you”, Nadia spits and stands in front of her frozen sister.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Dr Kry rolls his eyes when they don’t answer. “You’re my daughters, and you are not yet of age, you have to come with me.”
Nadia wants to refuse again, but she doesn’t want to leave her mother alone with him, not when he knows that they know.
“Now”, Dr Kry decides.
Nadia picks up Lydia’s bag and gives it to her sister. It looks like Lydia is going to throw up any second now. Nadia takes her hand and they follow their father out of the room, and out through a back door. For the first time, Lydia sits down in the backseat together with her twin. They hold each others hands tightly and keep silent the entire car ride home.
“Girls, I never wanted you to see that”, Dr Kry sighs and tries to meet their eyes in the rear view mirror. “I- … It’s hard to explain. Your mother is a very special person who I’m very lucky to have met.”
Lydia squeezes her eyes shut, but she can’t keep him out of her head.
When they come home, Nadia drags her sister into the house.
“Girls, don’t go upstairs”, Dr Kry says in that same dark voice Nadia had heard him talk in a few days ago. “I want you to stay down here.”
They halt, suddenly too scared to move.
“I want you to help me with dinner”, Dr Kry says. “Come on.”
The twins glance at each other. Lydia starts to drag her sister to the kitchen. They help in complete silence. Lydia’s hands are trembling while she cuts cucumber and it slips, cutting a slit in her finger. She yelps and drops the knife.
“Oh, honey”, Dr Kry breathes out and grabs her hand. “You have to be careful.”
She doesn’t look at him as he washes her hand under the kitchen sink and puts on a bandaid. Her entire body is in fight or flight mode.
When Dr Kry takes care of the final touches, the twins scurry up to their mother. Your face drops when you see them.
“Why is he doing this to you?” Nadia asks thickly as she tries not to cry. “We found out.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, girls”, you say sorrowfully. “I wish that you never had to know.”
“Why do you let it happen?” Lydia asks quietly.
“I have no choice … I can’t do anything.” You lower your gaze and voice to an ashamed whisper. “I don’t have the energy to run away, and if I managed to, you’d be in danger and I’d be dead. Your father has the only antidote to his self made poison. It’s safer for everyone if I stay here.”
“But mom …”, Nadia whimpers, “... he’s hurting you.”
“I … I know, dear.”
The door opens behind them.
“Girls, dinner”, Dr Kry says shortly and nods towards the corridor. “Go downstairs.”
The twins turn to you, wanting you to make their decision. You give them a reassuring smile and they leave. You look at the man who has become your husband, much to your dismay.
“Why did you let them find out?” you whisper with tears in your eyes. “You promised that they would never know!”
“I didn't think that they would.” He wipes the tears that roll down your cheeks. “I’ll fix this mess. Don’t worry, darling.”
With that said, he tucks you in and leaves to go downstairs. The twins have sat down by the dining table with their blank, staring eyes turned down into the table. Dr Kry sits down and start to eat, without seeming to care at all about the incidents that happened earlier. Nadia stares down into her plate with disgust roaring in her stomach. If she eats, she’s going to throw it all up in a matter of thirty minutes. She closes her eyes and sighs sadly. Lydia tries to eat a bite, forcing it down her throat.
“Nadia, eat a little”, Dr Kry says.
“I’m not hungry”, she mumbles.
“You need to eat a bit. I won’t allow you to leave the table before you have eaten. Look at Lydia, she’s eating.”
Lydia feels her cheeks heat up as the attention turns to her. She’s suddenly embarrassed over obeying. Feeling exposed and naked under Nadia’s look of disbelief, as if she’s just broken a silent pact. But instead of saying anything, Nadia picks up her fork and takes a bite of the white rice. The twins can agree that this might have been the worst dinner they have ever experienced.
Nadia puts her hand over her heart and clears her throat. There's a heavy feeling over her chest, something almost suffocating. She looks to the side, seeing how Lydia is frowning as well, trying to clear her throat. Nadia think that she looks like she’s going to faint. She wants to ask her how she’s feeling, but doesn’t dare talk in front of their father, afraid to start a conversation.
After dinner, the twins decide to go upstairs, but their legs suddenly feel weak enough to break apart.
“What’s going on?” Lydia whispers and grips the staircase railing.
“I think that he put something in the food”, Nadia whispers back.
“I feel really sick …”
She falls down on her knees in the middle of the staircase, still holding onto the railing. Nadia hurries to pull her up again and drags her over to her bedroom, lazily tucking her in.
“Don’t leave me”, Lydia whimpers and grabs her hand before she can leave the room. “Stay … please. Don’t go. I'm scared.”
Nadia agrees, not wanting to leave. She climbs down under the covers of Lydia’s bed. They lay in silence and look up at the tilted, wooden ceiling. For every minute passes by, they’re growing more and more sick. Every muscle in their bodies seem to ache, twist and turn.
“He’s doing it to us too”, Nadia whispers.
They hear the lock on the door click and give each other terrified looks. Nadia stumbles out of the bed and feel the handle. She gulps in horror and turns back to the bed.
“It’s locked!” she says and breathes out in shock. “He actually locked it …”
“Come back …”, Lydia begs and reaches for her.
Nadia returns to the bed, crawls down under the covers and hugs her. She wraps her arms around her sister and rests Lydia’s head on her shoulder.
“I’m scared”, Lydia whispers.
“It’s going to be okay”, Nadia replies, although she doesn’t believe it herself. “We’re going to be okay.”
Dr Kry removes his tie, about to go to sleep.
“I can’t believe you …”, you whisper from the bed, with her eyes down at her trembling hands.
“Darling …”, Dr Kry sighs and turns around.
You raise your tone, but keep it hushed enough not to exceed the bedroom walls. “You promised that they would never get hurt! You promised that they would never get exposed to this fucking substance!”
“They haven’t … yet.”
“Yet?! Don’t fucking tell me-”
“They figured it out, okay? They heard our conversation and decided to check out the hospital for themselves. I underestimated their intelligence … and their love for you.” He sighs annoyedly. “I’m not going to let their lack of understanding break apart our family — that I have fought so hard for. I put something in their food to keep them still for a while. It’s nothing dangerous, little one. I promise you that.”
“If I knew that you were going to break your promise-”
“I had to.”
He is about to caress your cheek, but hears sounds coming from next door. One of the girls is banging on the locked bedroom door, and calling for him. Dr Kry excuses himself and gets out of the room. He walks over to Lydia’s room, where the noise is coming from. Quickly, he unlocks, finding Nadia leaning on the wall right next to the door. Her eyes are full with tears.
“What’s going on?” Dr Kry asks.
“Lydia isn’t waking up!” Nadia cries.
Dr Kry feels his body turn cold. He runs over to the bed where his other daughter is lying on her side, and he soon finds out that Nadia is right — she isn’t waking up. He shakes her, gives her gentle taps on her cheeks and lifts her up. Nothing wakes her. He has to take her to the hospital.
“Wait, where are you going?!” Nadia screams after him as Dr Kry carries her sister down the stairs. “She doesn’t want to be alone!”
“You have to stay here with mom”, Dr Kry says over his shoulder. “I’m taking care of Lydia.”
He hurries out of the house and quickly places her down in the back seat. Dr Kry’s usual forty minute drive to the hospital took only twenty five minutes this time. He picked her up in her arms and ran inside through the backdoor, and didn’t stop until their reach the room you have spent many, many months in. Dr Kry places his daughter down on the very same bed you have laid in. He placed an oxygen over Lydia’s mouth and nose, turning on the machine. He hasn’t felt this scared in a long time.
Finally, after an hour, Lydia opens her eyes with a small moan. Dr Kry hurries over to the bed and removes the mask.
“How are you feeling?” he asks her and brushes the hair out of her face.
“I feel really sick”, she whimpers.
“Do you need to throw up?”
Lydia nods. Dr Kry picks her up again and moves her into the bathroom where she hovers over the toilet for ten minutes. Dr Kry holds her hair back and grimaces sadly. He does feel bad for putting her through this, but he has to.
“There you go”, he says and puts her down on the bed again.
“Why am I here?” Lydia asks weakly.
“You weren’t responding when anyone tried to wake you up. I got worried, so I decided to take you here.”
“Am I going to die?”
Dr Kry scoffs out a smile in a weird sensation of deja-vu. He has heard that question a lot, in the exact same tone and manner, but from the generation before her.
“You’re not”, he reassures her and strokes her hair. “You know that I would never let anything happen to you.”
“Why am I feeling like this?”
“I put something in your food to make you and Nadia calm down, but you seem to have reacted badly to the substance … weirdly enough. Since you’re identical twins, i thought you’d react the same, but it seems like you are a bit more sensitive than your sister.”
“Nadia ate less than me.”
“Yeah, you might have gotten more substance in your body, which is why you feel worse. It’s going to be okay, I will not let anything happen to you.”
“But you hurt me.”
His smile drops and his hand stops stroking her hair. He knows that Lydia shares half of her mothers genetics, but he didn’t know that she would sound exactly like you. She has never heard you use these phrases, and yet Lydia has chosen the exact same wording that you have tortured Dr Kry with years ago.
“I didn’t mean for you to end up here”, Dr Kry sighs and continues to stroke her hair. “That was my fault, I admit that. However, I had to keep you and Nadia a bit sedated because of how scared you were.”
“Why did you use so much?” she whimpers.
“I was a bit shaky myself, I wasn’t meant to hurt you, Lydia.”
Lydia sighs shakily and sinks down in the mattress. She wants nothing more than to go back home, to Nadia, but at the same time she knows that if she goes back home, she will be locked in her room again. Continuing with life now that they know their father’s secret will be difficult.
“How long do I have to stay here?” she asks quietly.
“Until you’re feeling better”, Dr Kry replies and stands up. “For now, I think that you need to sleep. It’s late.”
That’s the last thing she wants to do. She has always been Dr Kry’s (not so subtle) favorite, and she has always had a preference for her father … but for the very first time, she’s afraid of him. She can’t trust him anymore, especially about her health. Being unconscious is the last thing she wants to do.
“I don’t want to”, Lydia says pleadingly. “I’m not tired … please don’t make me sleep, dad.”
Please don’t make me sleep. Your voice echoes in his head, in the exact same tone. Dr Kry knows that he did a million things wrong when he kept you here, and now he has a second chance to fix things.
“Okay”, he breathes out and sits down on his stool. “You don’t have to sleep, darling.”
Lydia gulps and looks around in the room, trying to imagine how you had felt while being here. She feels a heavy sensation over her chest, like a heavy stone. She couldn’t see the poisoned air purifier that was mentioned in the journal.
“Did mom lay here?” Lydia whispers.
“Yes”, he answers quietly.
“How long?”
Dr Kry looks down at his nails, eyes faltering. “A, uh … very long time. Many, many months.”
She starts to look around again. “Where is the air purifier?”
“It’s not here … it broke, a long time ago. I had to throw it away.”
“Do you still use that kind of thing on mom?”
“No, I don’t. Not often.”
But he has his new way to make sure you stay.
Nadia runs her hand through her hair. Her poor sister. What should she do? Dr Kry left the rooms unlocked, which means that she can move around. She drags herself into your bedroom. You look at her with wide, nervous eyes.
“Is she okay?” you ask and take Nadia in your arms.
“I-I don’t know”, Nadia responds shakily while shaking her head desperately. “She wasn’t waking up and …”
“She’s going to be okay. I know your father can all of those medical stuff … maybe a little too well.” You sigh and caress the seventeen-year old girl’s face. “It’s going to be okay.”
Nadia shakes her head. “No fucking way things are going to be okay! He’s a madman, mom.”
“I … I know.”
“We can’t stay here.”
“Where are we supposed to go, Nad? We have no car, nearest neighbor is a kilometer away and we have poison in our blood. Sweetheart, we can’t walk far.”
“Mom, we have to leave. We can’t stay here with this psychopath!”
“Nadia …”
Nadia sighs frustratedly and hides her face in her hands. Something has to work. The farthest she has seen you walk is out to the garden when they’ve had picnic evenings. You take her hand, removing it.
“Sweetheart … you know dad loves you, right?” you ask carefully. You don’t want her to hate her him, after all he is her father … but you have to let her know the truth, no more living in the shadow.
“Fucking doubt it”, Nadia mutters.
“He does. In his … own little way. But I need you to understand that he has sides that he hasn’t shown you … a-and I don’t want you to see those sides.”
Nadia’s face goes blank. You’re trying your best not to get swindled back into old memories, but thinking about that murderous side of Dr Kry brings you back to a time you much rather would want to forget.
“Mom?” Nadia asks blankly and almost shouts in panic. “Mom! What sides?”
“He … He is a very patient man, but he can't take as much as possible, so please, whatever you do … cooperate.”
“What does that mean? Mom?”
Nadia goes cold. That’s it, she thinks, they have to leave.
“Mom, get up”, she says and grabs the blanket before ripping it off. “Now. Before he returns.”
“Nad-”
“We have to try, at least. Please.”
You hesitate before getting out of bed. Nadia grabs your hand and try to pull you out of the bedroom, but everything around you seem to spin. Your entire body is heavy and aching in all the wrong places.
“Nadia, wait”, you groan. “If I’m going to move, I have to move slowly.”
“Alright”, Nadia agrees. “I’ll go get some stuff and then meet you by the stairs.”
Nadia runs to her room to collect her wallet and hoodies for herself and her sister, then runs to get your jacket. She meets you by the stairs, helps you put your jacker on and then start to lead you down. You’re terrified of falling.
“Nadia, I don’t think that this is a good idea”, you mumble and think back of your numerous escape attempts, all ending with someone losing their life.
“We have to, mom”, Nadia pleads. “I can’t leave you here.”
“What about Lydia?”
“I’ll figure something out afterwards.”
Nadia unlocks the front door and leads you out on the glass verandah. You’re filled with fear. What if you can’t walk? What if you hurt yourself? What if Dr Kry finds out? Your body won’t be able to take his anger. Besides, you have barely left the house in eighteen years — apart from a few car rides here and there — what if the world has changed to something you don’t like?
“Mom”, Nadia says slowly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m terrified”, you admit.
“We will be okay.”
They start to walk along the dark countryside road. There are no streetlight this far out in the forest, but the moon lights up enough for them to see where the road is heading.
“It’s been years since I was outside last”, you say. “I think the last time I was out walking was in the garden, last summer when we had that picnic.”
“Have you ever tried to run away from dad before?” Nadia asks.
“I have”, you answer quietly. “A few times.”
“Did you ever succeed?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘succeeding’, because I’m still here, aren’t I? But I got away a few times … the only problem was that he found me again.” You sigh, realizing that perhaps you shouldn’t have this conversation with your underage daughter. “Forget that. Where are we going?”
“We need to go to our neighbors. They have to help us.”
Nadia has only spoken to the neighbors a few times, because of how rarely they run into each other.
They only manage to walk a hundred meters before bright, beaming headlights light up in front of them. Nadia wants to flee into the forest — in case it happens to be her father behind the wheel — but can’t seem to pull you with her. The car stops and to Nadia’s horror, her father gets out.
“What the Hell are you doing?!” he shouts, sounding both angry and terrified. “Y/N!”
You freeze in your spot and seem to crawl together like a hurt dog, sounding like one too. Dr Kry runs over to you. Nadia watches in horror and starts to panic, wondering what she should do. Stay here with you and get caught in Dr Kry’s claws … or make a run for it to try to get help.
“I’m sorry”, you shriek in fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
Dr Kry hugs your shaking body in his arms and strokes your back, hushing softly.
“I know you didn’t come up with this stupid idea”, he reassures you. “Don’t cry, my dear, I'm here now. I know this wasn't your fault. I'm not mad at you. I’ll get you back home and I'll take care of you. It’s going to be okay.”
He helps you into the front seat. You don’t fight back in the slightest. Nadia looks back at the dark forest and gulps. Her eyes glues onto something in the backseat and realizes that he has come back with her sister!
“Nadia, get in, we've had enough of these childish outbursts”, her father tells her. “Get in. Now.”
“Is she okay?” Nadia almost stutters and points at her sleeping sister.
“She’s okay. If you don’t get in now, Nadia, I’m taking them both with me and you’ll never see them again.”
His favoritism has never been clearer, Nadia thinks. She can’t leave her sister … so she gets into the backseat. Nadia wakes her sister up and caresses her cheek.
“Are you okay?” she whispers quickly. “Did he hurt you?”
“I feel okay”, Lydia whispers back. “Just … tired. I had tro throw up a lot and I think that he gave me some sleeping pills or something. I insisted on going home … so he let me.”
Nadia breathes out. She glances over at the front seat. Their father holds the steering wheel with one hand and yours with the other.
“Please don’t cry”, he wishes.
Nadia watches on in disgust.
When they get back to the white villah, Nadia pulls her sister up to her own room and lays her down on the bed while Dr Kry takes you into the master bedroom.
“Here you go”, Nadia says and tucks her in. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Some water”, Lydia says quietly.
Nadia disappears downstairs to get a glass of water. She meets her father in the stairs.
“Nadia, I’m not sure your sister will be able to leave her bed for a while”, he says warningly. “I wouldn’t try to leave, if i were you. If you do, I will take both of them with me, and you’ll never see them again.”
“Do you like to hurt your family?” she spits back. “What kind of sadist are you?”
“One to make sure my family stays with me. If you don’t want to end up in the same physical state as your sister and mother, you’re going to continue living as if everything is normal, got that? Go to school, come home, study, continue everything. No talking to anyone about this. Is that clear?”
“So everything as normal … but without Lydia?”
“Exactly.”
“Why aren’t you healing her?”
“Because I’m not going to let you, or anyone, take my family from me. Be glad that I’m still letting you live normally.”
Nadia glares at him and continues up the stairs. She holds the glass to Lydia’s mouth, watching her sip.
“What now?” she whispers.
“I’m allowed to continue living like normally … and you don’t”, Nadia says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“But … but I don’t want to live like mom!”
“I know. I’m sorry, Lyd.”
The girl in the bed sighs sadly. Naida takes her hand and gulps.
The coming weeks seem normal. Nadia goes to school, studies, returns to the villah, but nothing is the same. Without Lydia, there’s no use in being on top. She has no one to impress anymore. Her father is dead to her, and sucking up to him makes her sick. She barely talks to her friends anymore. They’re always asking her about Lydia, and why she’s not in school anymore. Nadia can’t come up with countless excuses … it’s easier to distance herself.
Life doesn’t seem that bright and colorful anymore. Nadia can’t bring herself to be excited about things that used to interest her badly. Now, every day is a chore, something she wants to get done, until something happens … but she doesn’t know what it is. A death in the family? Someone saving them? Someone killing someone?
Nadia walks out of school, seeing her fathers white car parked outside the gates, and him inside … waiting for her.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere fics#yandere oc x reader#yandere stories#yandere doctor#platonic yandere#yandere ocs#female reader#yandere oneshot#the younger generation
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Don’t Want You Like A Best Friend
17+ content; mdni!
Part I | series masterlist | my Coryo masterlist
summary: You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember. You've always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - not quite so pure and innocent anymore ...
chapter tags/warnings: some best friends to lovers angst and emotional confusion, lots of fluff, slightly ooc Coryo (don't worry, the possessive jealousy borderline crazy obsessive behavior will come in later parts!), a lil smutty treat at the end of the chapter
word count: 5,7k (it’s worth it, I promise!!)
You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember.
You’ve grown up together, experienced everything together, with your family living just across the street from Coroy’s family’s apartment.
You’ve been there for each other during the dark days of the war, when both his parents and your father died. You’ve attended the academy together for years.
You’re planning on going to University together as well, though that is still in the future, seeing as it will be a few more months until you’ll both finally graduate the academy.
Really, Coriolanus is such a constant, important aspect in your life, you can’t imagine life without him.
He’s always there for you - whether it be to laugh over a silly joke one of you two made or to hug and console you after a bad day or to look out for you and protect you.
You’re inseparable, really, spending almost every moment together.
Before, you’ve always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - they’re not quite so pure and innocent anymore.
Lately, you’ve caught yourself staring at Coriolanus more and more often, gaze lingering on his bright blue eyes, his mischievous smirk, his blond curls or his toned, muscled arms or chest.
When he hugs you, you can’t help but notice how good it feels to be pressed against his toned chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin.
When he reaches out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, you have to fight the urge to close your eyes and lean into his warm, comforting touch.
When he reaches out to draw you closer, his hand settling possessively on your waist, the first thought in your head is that this - this feels right. You and Coryo together, as close as possible.
And you can’t help but want, no, crave, more of it.
More of Coryo, more of you two together, more of that dizzying, heady feeling you get whenever he touches you that sends your thoughts spiraling and makes your heartbeat go haywire.
You’ve started to crave his touch more and more, always trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch him - letting your hand brush against his, laying a hand on his arm to steady yourself or reaching out a hand to brush a stray curl from his forehead.
You feel yourself starting to get addicted to him more and more - and you have no idea how to stop it.
Though, if you’re honest with yourself- you don’t want to stop it.
You want to get lost in this snow storm of feelings.
“Let’s go through this one more time”, Coryo says from his place at your desk, prompting a sigh from you.
“Coryo”, you say, whining, “we’ve been going through this this whole afternoon. I think you’ve got it. Besides, the test is not until next Monday, you’ve got the whole weekend to continue studying - not that you need it.”
“You know that I can’t afford to get anything other than an A on this test, right?”, Coryo replies, sighing.
“And you know that you’ll get an A, even without studying, Coryo”, you reply, finally sitting up from your sprawled-out position on your bed.
You can see Coryo shaking his head, about to say something else, so you hastily add: “Please, Coryo. I know how much you worry about your grades - I get it, I really do. But, you’ve slowly been driving me insane this afternoon, I can’t go through this stuff yet again, at least not right now.”
When Coryo doesn’t reply immediately, you nervously bite down on your lower lip. You didn’t want to sound so mean, but the truth is that he has been driving you crazy this afternoon. You’ve already gone through all your notes of ancient history three times and you really don’t want to go all through 18 pages - front and back, in Coryo’s small, neat handwriting no less - of notes yet again.
Coryo sighs frustratedly.
You look up, only to find his intense gaze fixed on you, his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’m sorry, you’re right”, he says, sighing again and running a hand through his blond curls. “Maybe I just need to take a break-“
“That sounds wonderful”, you say, cutting him off before he has the chance to add a but to his suggestion.
You get up from your bed, walking over to your desk and grab both of Coryo’s hands, trying to get him to get up, but Coryo doesn’t cooperate, becoming a dead weight to you.
“Coryo, come on”, you plead, huffing a sigh of frustration, when he still makes no move to get up.
You take another step closer to him, putting even more strength into the motion of your arms - just when Coryo smirks up at you, before tugging hard on your hands, causing you to stumble forward; right into his lap.
“Asshole!”, you exclaim, pushing against his chest with your hands, but Coryo doesn’t budge.
He just looks up at you with a triumphant smirk, a daring expression in his blue eyes. Daring you to do what exactly, you’re not quite sure. You just know that you’re trapped in his gaze, unable to do anything but look at him and get lost in his blue, blue eyes.
And - this isn’t the first time that something like this has happened lately. In fact, lately you’ve found Coryo’s eyes lingering on you more and more often, his intense gaze seemingly burning you.
And it should frighten you, how much you’ve come to crave the feeling of his eyes on you. And it does, but there’s something else there as well - a yearning for his attention that hasn’t been there before.
The soft sound of Coryo chuckling at your scowling expression draws you out of your thoughts.
“Need some help?”, he asks you, smirking.
You huff a sigh of frustration, trying to push against his chest again - at the same time that Coryo tugs on your arms again, causing you to shift even more forward in his lap, until you’re pressed flush against his strong, muscular chest.
Flustered, you feel your cheeks warming, your heartbeat quickening. Coryo is so, so close to you, you can feel his breath on your skin, his heartbeat under your hands.
And - well, you’re sitting right in his lap, and once you’ve worked through your initial confusion at his sudden closeness, you can feel something else as well. Something hard pressed against your stomach-
Coryo clears his throat then, gently pushing you away. You stumble, disoriented from the sudden motion, but then Coryo’s hand is there on your waist, steadying you.
He leans in even closer towards you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He smiles softly, as if nothing has just happened. “You were saying something about taking a break?”
You swallow, trying to calm your still erratic heartbeat and forcing a smile onto your face. “Sure. How about a snack and some hot chocolate?”
“Finally satisfied with all the torture you’ve put me through today?”, you say, yawning, when you see Coriolanus finally closing his folder - you feel like you’ve been studying for ages and you never want to see his ancient history notes ever again.
He laughs softly, the sound reverberating against your back. You don’t quite know how you’ve ended up in this position - both of you on your bed, Coryo sitting behind you, you sitting between his legs, your head leaning against his chest.
It shouldn’t feel so good, being this close to him, especially after that incident earlier this afternoon- that still has your mind reeling and your cheeks heating up whenever you think about it -, but it does.
In fact, now that you’ve got a taste of it, you don’t ever want it to stop.
You bite down hard on your lip, trying - and failing - to stop this dangerous line of thinking. Because allowing yourself to let your thoughts spiral like this, allowing yourself to feel this nervous, heated energy that’s coursing through your veins, instead of suppressing it, like you’ve done until now - is dangerous.
It will only lead you down a road of heartbreak. Yet you can’t seem to find it in you to hit the brakes and stop.
„Torture?“, Coryo now says, drawing you out of your thoughts. „You seem to be in an awfully good mood for suffering through a whole afternoon of torture.“
You can’t help but smile at his words, though you’re glad that Coryo isn’t able to see it - he’d just call you out and tease you for smiling like an idiot to yourself.
„Yes, well, going through eighteen pages of notes - front and back - four times is torture-“, your words are cut off by a surprised, startled yelp, when suddenly, Coryo starts tickling you.
„No - Coryo, please!“, you manage to get out, but he’s unrelenting, only tickling you harder despite your protests.
Both his hands are wrapped around your waist and your back is pressed flush against his broad chest. And even though you’re still giggling, trying to fight him off, you can also feel that nervous, heady feeling that sends your thoughts and heartbeat haywire again.
You give up trying to fight him off, then, which Coryo immediately notices. He laughs softly, before finally ending his tickling attack and resting his head on the crook of your neck. „Enough torture for today?“, he asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice.
You try to turn around to face him then, but both his hands are still on your waist, trapping you in place. „You’re a jerk, you know that, right?“, you say, though your voice doesn’t sound quite as steady and dry as you’d intended it to.
Coriolanus just laughs, the sensation of his warm breath ghosting over your skin causing you to shiver involuntarily. „You’ve never complained before.“
You huff, rolling your eyes. „Well, you’ve never bothered to acknowledge it.“
„Mhm, that’s probably for the best …“
You roll your eyes again - his answer is just so typically Coryo.
„What, no witty retort?“, Coriolanus asks, but you only shake your head, yawning.
„We both know that you can be quite the jerk, ’s nothing new … besides, it’s late …“, you mumble, trying to suppress another yawn and leaning back against his chest again. It is late - already way past eleven, the street outside your window already dark, safe for the streetlights.
You close your eyes, wishing that you could just stay like this, wrapped in Coryo’s comforting embrace, if only for a short moment longer.
„You’re right, it’s late“, Coriolanus now says. „I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have held you up so long, I should get going …“
„Or you could stay.“
The words are out of your mouth before you’ve thought them through and you can feel yourself flushing again. Now, you’re really glad that you’re still facing away from Coriolanus - you feel like you’d die from embarrassment if he could see your face going beet-red.
„I could …“, he says, his voice uncertain.
„Yes … you, uh, could …“, you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re glad that Coriolanus isn’t able to see it - really, you’re just glad that he hasn’t noticed how weird you’ve been acting around him lately, your heartbeat picking up, your cheeks flushing, your hands getting sweaty when being around him; sometimes just from a single touch or a lingering look from Coryo.
It’s not like you’ve never done this before, like this has never happened before. This wouldn’t be the first time that Coriolanus sleeps over at your place. In fact, he used to do so a lot when you were younger, right after his parents died and he was plagued with nightmares. It stopped happening as often when you both got older, and now, it hasn’t happened in years.
And somehow him sleeping over at your place now seems to be something totally different than him sleeping over at your place when you were both little kids.
You’re not little kids anymore - you’ve changed. You both have. Your friendship has changed, evolved as well.
Coriolanus is still your best friend, the one person you wouldn’t want to live without; but somehow, he’s not just that. He means something more to you as well, something else, something much less innocent than friendship-
„Yes, I could - I mean, only if that’s alright with you and your mother-“
„Sure“, you interrupt him, your voice sounding incredibly high and nervous. Fuck, you think, running a hand through your hair, and trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. „I mean, it’s no big deal …“
Lie.
It is a big deal, but it’s probably for the best that Coriolanus doesn’t know that the thought of falling asleep right next to him excites you way more than it probably should.
Coriolanus laughs softly. „Great … Should we get ready for bed then? It’s quite late and you always take ages getting ready for bed-“
„Just admit that you need your beauty sleep“, you interrupt him, teasing him back. You don’t need to turn around to know that he’s rolling his eyes at your remark.
„Exactly“, he says, dryly, before gently losing his embrace and getting up.
You follow him to the bathroom, your mind still spiraling. Just minutes earlier, you were complaining about going through Coryo’s ancient history notes four times; now, you’re following your best friend to the bathroom that’s connected to your room, to get ready for bed - with your best friend who’s sleeping over.
In your bathroom, you hand Coriolanus a spare toothbrush, a comb and a towel, trying to ignore the tingly feeling in your fingertips when your hands brush against his. But then, he draws you closer with one hand, his hand resting on your waist for just a moment too long and you’re blushing again, the thought that you shouldn’t feel so excited and nervous about your best friend sleeping over already forgotten again.
It takes you quite some time to get ready for bed. Not, as Coriolanus keeps insisting, because of your way too long and time consuming evening routine; but because of him distracting you with his lingering touches and stolen glances - messing your hair up again right after you’ve combed through it; catching your gaze in the mirror over the sink again and again while you’re brushing your teeth; drawing you closer just when you’re about to reach for your night cream.
It’s way past midnight when you’re finally laying down in bed - right next to Coriolanus, who turns to look at you with a soft smile on his face after you’ve reached for the bedsheets, drawing them over you both.
He scoots closer to you, before wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you even closer to him, your back flush against his chest - the gesture so casual and natural, as if it doesn’t make your heartbeat go haywire.
„Good night“, he whispers, before resting his head on the crook of your neck.
Your heart skips a beat then.
„Good- good night, Coryo“, you manage to get out, your voice wobbly.
You close your eyes, though you already know that actually falling asleep will be almost impossible - how are you supposed to just fall asleep with Coriolanus right there, your back pressed against his chest, his hand on your waist, his head resting on the crook of your neck?
No - you probably won’t even catch a single second of sleep this night.
But somehow, that doesn’t sound too bad. (Not when you get to spend the night like this, with your best friend wrapped around you.)
The next morning, you’re the first one awake.
Coriolanus is still soundly asleep, his even breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. You’re in almost the same position as you were when you fell asleep, with Coriolanus’s hand on your stomach, his head resting on your shoulder.
You were right, you think, yawning, you didn’t get much sleep. It took you ages to fall asleep, your mind still reeling from Coriolanus’s overwhelming closeness. You must have fallen asleep at some point though, because you distinctly remember waking from Coriolanus tightening his hold on you and muttering some unintelligible.
You yawn again, carefully turning around to face Coriolanus.
He’s still asleep.
You can’t help but let your gaze linger on him, study his face - as if you haven’t already memorized every single one of his features. He looks so calm and peaceful when he sleeps, his expression soft and open.
Without thinking, you reach up with one hand and brush a stray blond curl from his forehead. The motion seems to wake Coriolanus though, because his eyes flutter open, and then he’s looking at you - his blue gaze still a bit disoriented, but you feel caught up in his gaze nonetheless.
„Hey“, he says, his voice still a bit sleepy, „sleep well?“
You quickly withdraw your hand, forcing a smile onto your face. „Well, could’ve been better if you hadn’t snored so loudly“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant.
Coriolanus just scoffs. „I do not snore“, he says, indignant.
No, you think, but you still kept me awake all night long, just by having your hand splayed across my stomach, your head resting on my shoulder.
Still, you force yourself to shrug. „Easy for you to say.“
Coriolanus just scoffs again. But even though he’s annoyed by your comment, shooting you another indignant look, you can’t help but think that you want to spend every single morning just like this.
You want to wake up right next to Coriolanus every morning - something you shouldn’t even be thinking about, but something that you still desperately crave nonetheless.
It becomes a habit, then - Coryo sleeping over at your place.
At first, he only does it after one of your study sessions, once or twice a week. But then, it starts happening more and more often - him sleeping over after a movie night (considering that it took you a lot of convincing to get him to finally agree to a movie night, he seems to be enjoying himself quite a lot, cuddling up to you on your living room couch, resting his head on the crook of your neck, sending your heartbeat haywire) or after an evening of cooking together or after a long evening spent together at the Academy’s library, finishing an assignment for Professor Sickle.
At first, you don’t really think anything of it.
But then, one Sunday morning you’re going through your clothes (for once, Coryo didn’t sleep over at your place, because he and Tigris promised the Grandm’am an early breakfast before helping her out with her roses) and suddenly, you realize that there’s a whole stack of Coryo’s clothes in your closet. Dress shirts, plain shirts, pants, even one of his favorite shirts - it’s all here, in your closet.
Without allowing yourself to think too much about it, you grab a simple long-sleeved grey shirt from the stack with Coryo’s clothes and put it on. (It’s oversized, the sleeves way too long, but you don’t care, the shirt is so soft and comfortable. And besides - it still smells like Coryo, like roses and powder and something else, something that’s entirely him.)
After throwing on some simple, comfortable pants as well, you walk over to your bathroom - and startle when you see the box with Coryo’s things on one side of the big, marble sink. A toothbrush, a comb, even a small tube of Tigris’s face cream that he secretly uses - you’re the only one who knows and he’d made you swear not to tell a single living soul that fact.
You smile at the memory, absentmindedly running a hand through your hair and letting your eyes wander through the bathroom.
But everywhere you look, you see Coriolanus. Everything seems to somehow remind you of him.
That towel on the sink, which is lying neatly folded right next to the box with Coryo’s stuff. It’s one of your own towels, nothing special in your opinion - you’ve got lot of other towels and really, a towel is just a towel - but Coryo insists that it’s softer than your other towels and feels better on his skin.
That old butterfly-shaped hairpin of yours, lying abandoned on the windowsill. You only have to look at it to be taken back to Thursday night when you were getting ready for bed, brushing your hair in front of the great mirror over the sink, when suddenly Coryo walked into your bathroom, your old hairpin in hand.
„That’s the hairpin you got for your tenth birthday, isn’t it?“, he asked, smiling to himself.
You nodded. „Yes, I thought about giving it away, maybe gifting it to my little cousin, because I don’t really think that it suits me anymore.“
Coryo’s smile seemed to freeze at your words. „Really? I still think it looks great, look“, he said, drawing you closer with one hand whilst reaching up with his other hand to place to pin in your hair.
„See?“, he said, smiling.
You laughed, shaking your head. „I mean, yes, it’s beautiful, but I’m not ten anymore, Coryo.“
You wanted to put the hairpin away, but Coriolanus insisted on you keeping it just a little longer - maybe you’d change your mind about it.
You reach for that hairpin now, absentmindedly running your fingers over it. Coriolanus is right, the pin is beautiful, even though it looks a bit worn down after years of usage.
You decide to keep the pin, then. Not because you think that you’ll wear it again, but as another reminder of Coryo.
It is in this moment that you realize that your feelings towards your best friend have changed - you no longer view him as just your best friend.
You no longer want him like a best friend.
You don’t want to be just his best friend anymore - you want so much more than that. You want - no need - his attention, want his lingering eyes on you, want his warm, comforting touch before falling asleep, want to wake up next to him, want to feel his lips on yours.
You tighten your grip on the hairpin, until you feel it starting to dig uncomfortably in your skin, but the pain still can’t distract you from your thoughts and the heavy, crushing feeling in your chest.
Because no matter how much you might want to be more than Coryo’s best friend - to him, you’ll never be anything else. He’ll never see you as anything other than his best friend.
It somehow becomes both easier and harder to be around Coryo after your realization.
Easier, because it means that you still get to be around him, get to talk with him, fall asleep with him at your side, ly next to on your bed while he’s motivating you to study.
Harder, because it means that you still get to be around him - all the time. Looking at him, laughing with him, touching him; fantasizing about him in ways that you definitely shouldn’t think about your best friend.
His presence is almost like a drug to you; addicting and intoxicating, leaving you craving more of it, even though you know that it’s not good for you - in the end it’ll be your heart that’ll be broken.
„Something on your mind?“, Coryo’s soft voice draws you out of your thoughts, his hand absentmindedly drawing circles on your back.
It’s already late evening and you’re lying together in your bed - you wearing one of his shirts, which he noticed with a satisfied smirk earlier, over your nightdress.
You shake your head, thankful that Coriolanus can’t see your face, seeing as he’s spooning you from behind. „Not really, no … just all these papers we’ll have to hand in during the next two weeks …“
„Well, if it’s nothing else …“, Coriolanus says, laughing softly, his warm breath tickling against your skin, but something tells you that he doesn’t quite believe your words.
„Nope“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant, before freeing yourself from Coriolanus’s grip, taking off his shirt, so that you’re left in only your lacy, red nightdress.
The distraction works - Coriolanus’s swallows, the expression in his eyes darkening. „Won’t you - uhm, freeze? If you’re only sleeping in that, I mean, it doesn’t look very warm …“, he stutters - actually stutters.
„Freeze?“, you ask, grinning, „with you right next to me?“
Coriolanus just scoffs, rolling his eyes. It’s a discussion you’ve had quite often these last few weeks - with you convinced that his body temperature is too high, and him convinced that yours is running too low.
Though maybe Coryo does have a point and you always feeling so hot when you’re being embraced by him has more to do with your heartbeat quickening and your palms turning sweaty from being so near to him and less with his body temperature.
Suddenly, Coriolanus sits up, leaning in towards you, before closing both his arms around you, caging you in his embrace. Both of his hands are splayed possessively over your stomach, though one feels dangerously close to your chest.
Though - maybe that is just your imagination running wild with you again.
„Warm enough for you?“, Coriolanus asks, resting his head on the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin.
You laugh, trying not to squirm - you’re insanely ticklish, something Coriolanus very much know. „Yes, Coryo, more than enough …“
„Hm …“, he laughs softly. „Can’t have you freezing now, can I?“, he adds, reaching for your blanket and draping it around you both.
„Hm ...“, you hum, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against his chest. You feel so warm and content, being so close to Coryo. It’s so easy to get lost in your imagination like that, to pretend that you can actually have this with him, to pretend that this is not just your best friend messing around with you - to pretend that he feels the same way you do.
You stay like that for a moment - Coryo holding you in his arms, bodies pressed flush together.
Then, after a while - you can’t tell whether it’s been only a few minutes or a few hours; time always seems to either stop or pass you by in a blur whenever you’re with Coriolanus - he clears his throat, breaking his embrace.
„It’s late, we should probably try to get some sleep …“, he says, trying to suppress a yawn.
You nod, forcing a smile onto your face. „Sure … can’t have your mind in a foggy, exhausted state when you want to make a good impression in Sickle’s class tomorrow morning …“
Coriolanus scoffs, laying down on your bed.
The moment you’ve lain down as well, he scoots closer to you, enclosing you in his arms. Something he does every night when he sleeps over, though your heart still skips a beat at the action.
This is dangerous, you think. You can’t keep thinking about your best friend like that, can’t keep falling and falling for him-
„Good night“, Coriolanus says - and then he does something he’s never done before: he leans in closer towards you, pressing a gentle, soft kiss to your hairline.
Your heartbeat quickens and you can only hope that Coryo won’t be able to pick up on it.
„Good - good night, Coryo“, you say, your voice shaky, barely being able to get the words out.
Coriolanus laughs, before resting his head on the crook of your neck again.
You swallow, trying not to shiver.
This night, it takes you a long time to fall asleep.
When you wake up, Coriolanus has wrapped himself around you, caging you in between his arms, one of his hands splayed possessively across your stomach, his other hand dangerously close to the hem of your admittedly quite short night dress. (You may have decided on deliberately wearing this particular lacy red night dress, seeing as it has made Coriolanus look at you with a dark expression in his eyes when he’d seen you wearing it once before.)
His strong, muscled chest is pressed flush against your back - though that’s not the only thing pressed against your back.
You feel your cheeks heat up when you realize what this means. This has only happened two times before, and both times Coriolanus was quick to embarresedly scoot away from you when he woke up, realizing that his erection had been pressed against your back.
Now, though, Coriolanus seems to be asleep and in no hurry to move away from you. In fact, he suddenly makes a low muffled noise, his grip on you tightening, his hand at the hem of your night dress moving up even higher until you can feel his fingertips brush over the soft skin of your inner thighs.
You can’t help the surprised noise that escapes you then - even though all of this should feel so wrong; it doesn’t.
It doesn’t feel wrong at all. In fact, you want - no, crave even more of this, of you and Coryo pressed so closely together that not even a single leaf could fit between you, Coriolanus’s hands on you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Coriolanus suddenly says your name, his lips brushing against your skin, causing you to shiver.
„Cory?“, you ask, trying to turn around, but his grip on you is too tight, keeping you in place.
Then - your name falling from his lips again, followed by a loud, coarse moan.
„Yes, right there - fuck, so good, so good“, Coriolanus moans, one hand suddenly finding its way under the skirt of your night dress, his fingers moving up higher and higher on your thighs, coming dangerously close to the hem of your panties-
„Fuck!“ Another loud moan, followed by Coriolanus’s hips moving against yours, his erection pressing against you.
Oh, you think, cheeks impossibly warm, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from making any sound.
Besides your imagination running wild these last few weeks, one dirty fantasy of you and your best friend chasing the other, this has never happened to you. You thought that it never would happen to you - at least not with Coryo.
Though he’s only caught up in a dream of his own, you try to remind yourself, when his hips move against yours again.
It’s only a dream. But why is it your name that he’s moaning then, not any other? But maybe it’s just a coincide-
Every single thought is wiped from your head, when Coriolanus’s fingers brush over your panties, teasing your clit though the thin fabric.
You can’t help the moan that escapes you then - not when this feels so good, Coriolanus’s fingers teasing over your clit, his hips moving against yours, his lips pressed to the skin of your neck, his other hand still splayed across your stomach.
Coriolanus moans your name again then, his fingers cupping your cunt through the thin fabric of your panties, and you find yourself moving your hips against his, driven by pure instinct.
The low, coarse groan that escapes Coriolanus then has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together, but his fingers are still there, still teasing over your clit.
Suddenly, his fingers start to move, drawing teasing circles over your clit, and it’s all too much for you. Overwhelmed by all the different emotions coursing through you, you tear yourself away from his grip, getting up on shaky feet and walking over to the bathroom that’s connected to your bedroom.
Your head is still spinning when you find yourself leaning against the cold, marble walls of the bathroom, your core still aching, yearning for Coriolanus’s touch.
You shiver, even though you feel too hot, your skin feeling like it’s been set on fire. Coriolanus touched you. Your best friend’s fingers were almost inside you and-
Fuck.
Fuck, you’ll never able to look your best friend in the eyes again, even though all you want is to be as close to him as you were moments ago.
Acting on pure instinct, you shimmy out of your nightdress, letting it fall to the floor, before stepping inside the shower. Maybe a good, cold shower, will help, you think, turning on the shower.
You step back, letting the cold water hit your body. But even though the cold water feels like needles prickling against your skin, you still feel as if your entire body was set on fire, your core still aching and empty.
Almost on their own accord, your fingers find their way to your clit. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to blink back the tears in your eyes that are suddenly threatening to spill.
Still, you can’t help the low moan that escapes you when your fingers find their way between your folds.
You close your eyes, letting your head fall back - letting pure instinct take over, as you fuck yourself on your fingers, wishing that it were Coryo’s fingers filling you up instead.
When you come, it’s with a desperate, breathless cry and images of Coriolanus pressed against you playing over and over again in your mind.
What you don’t know, though, is that Coriolanus has been awake all this time - every single touch was a deliberate, strategic move on his part and you’d reacted even better than he could have imagined. He followed you to the bathroom when you got up from bed, and now he’s watching you come undone from his position behind the door that you forgot to properly lock in your haste.
He feels like he’s going crazy, crawling out of his skin as he watches you screw your eyes shut, throwing your head back. Your breathless whimpers and moans are all that he can hear, echoing through his mind.
Wracked with shame, guilt and desire coursing through him, he shoves one hand into his pants, his eyes still fixated on you.
It only takes a few strokes over his already achingly hard length until he comes undone as well.
And when he unravels, it is with your breathless moans echoing through his mind, his eyes on you, and your name like a bittersweet, deadly poison that he just can’t get enough of on his lips.
sooo ...? please, please lmk what you think, I'm so excited to hear your thoughts!
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#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus smut#coriolanus x you#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus x y/n#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x you#coryo snow x reader#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#thg#tbosas#x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#don't want you like a best friend#maysileeewrites
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HEADCANONS — FLIRTY ACADEMIC RIVALS w/ CORIOLANUS SNOW
you're not sure when the rivalry started, but for as long as you could remember, you were always sat next to coriolanus snow in class, whether by assignment or choice. neither of you actually hated the other, it was more a friendly competition born out of your strong feelings for each other that neither of you trusted yourselves with, so you resorted to teasing and playful mockery.
both of you care very much about your academics, snow on his way to win the plinth prize, and you, eager to impress your parents and secure a job in the capitol. when you put two highly ambitious and motivated students next to each other, it was no wonder you were always top of your classes. some people called you the power couple, but you denied the latter half of that term.
"where's your little boyfriend?" sejanus had asked one day. "how many times do i have to tell you, he's not my boyfriend!" you responded. "tell me then, why haven't either of you dated anyone?"
the easy answer to that question, and the one you always resorted to was that you simply had no time for dating right now. never mind the fact that you've been using that excuse for your whole life.
corio, on the other hand, never denied the dating rumors. not because there was any truth to them, but more so to annoy you. "corio, did you tell professor crane we were going to formal together?" "yes, what's wrong?" he feigned innocence. "what's wrong? you told him we were going together! as in boyfriend girlfriend!" "i still don't see the issue."
most days, he drove you crazy. and he probably wasn't even aware of his affect on you. shoulders touching when reading a textbook together, quickly pulling away his hand when your fingers went to turn the page at the same time, pretending not to be flustered on the rare occasion he gave you a compliment.
other times, it was nice to have him sat by your side. for example, the nights when you stayed up late studying often led to you dozing off in class, leaning on corio's shoulder until he gently nudged you off, "hey, sleepyhead. what time did you go to sleep?" he would tease.
the best classes were the ones you took with a professor that you both mutually hated— you could hardly control your laughter when he whispered a remark in your ear, or the shivers that he sent down your spine from being in such close proximity to you.
one time, he found you hiding in a corner of the library after receiving a particularly bad grade on a test. you had abruptly left him in the hallway, claiming that you had an "important phone call" to take, but of course, he knew you well enough to know that something was wrong and you needed space. thirty minutes later, he was pulling you off the floor and taking you out to ice cream.
"my girl," he said, wiping off your tear-stained cheeks. "what can i do to make you feel better?" you had wanted to kiss him right then and there, to resolve the tension between you two once and for all, but you didn't want your first kiss to be under these circumstances.
life in the capitol was not as glamorous as everyone else made it out to be. you faced an immense pressure to perform well, uphold the reputation of your family, and be successful, and most of the time you felt alone and exhausted. but coriolanus was always there for you, when things were good, and especially when things got bad.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus x reader
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Bark bark bark awoooo
You’re gonna fucking combust.
Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.
“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”
His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.
You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.
It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.
Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.
Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.
Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.
It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.
Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.
Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)
He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.
You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.
You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.
But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.
And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.
Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”
Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.
Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.
Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.
“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”
You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.
“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.
Snort.
“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”
A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.
“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”
Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.
—
“Fuck it.”
Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.
“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.
You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.
“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”
For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.
He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.
“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.
A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.
You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.
“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.
Lastly, the shoes.
“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.
You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.
“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”
Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.
“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”
To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.
“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”
You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.
“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”
More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.
You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.
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