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planete777 · 5 months

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BAD INFLUENCE・⁠｡♪ LN4 [+ OP81]

( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri)

READ PART 2!

IN WHICH. getting high was never on oscar's roster. getting high and enjoying it with y/n and lando wasn't either, but that just makes it much more... exciting. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 16+, suggestive content, drug use (as per), high hotness pt 875443, oscar cameo (woop woop 🥳), make outs, first time getting high, oscar being whipped for lando and y/n? wbk, a bit of mxm content between drivers, shotgunning coz it's my most favourite thing ever

NOTE. LANDOSCAR!! this may probably be my favourite fic and is my longest so im looking forward to you guys reading it!!! well overdue in my humblest opinion, but i delivered hehe. enjoy my luvs and a very happy new year in advance mwah mwah mwah 😚😚 i appreciate all of you readers, thank you for all your support 💓💓💓

SIDENOTE. my askbox is now closed for requests 🤍

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu (use askbox above if you'd like to be added!)

frankly speaking, a 'you up?' text from oscar piastri, whose entire persona was an antithesis of what that type of message usually pertained to, isn't something lando was expecting at 1am after a tedious race weekend. knows oscar to be one who sleeps in too early, as if his circadian rhythm was built upon the foundation of a restrictive curfew, and even fathoming the fact that he is awake past 12 is rather peculiar.

yet, with the mutually pre-established sense that lando would be awake (he's probably an insomniac, but it's not too concerning for him to actually check), and that oscar was asking if he was just for the sake of, most likely because he's, unusually, unable to sleep, lando replies with much sluggish vim.

fingers moving as if they played in a dream, he's able to reply with 'yh, why????' and sends it off before throwing his phone on the bed. he thinks, if he's sober, he would care more that this is oscar!!!! who is normally adamant about getting sleep!!! and not looking more sleep deprived than his naturally downturned eyes already make he seem to be!!!! but his mind feels like gooey viscous, and he counts about 3,000 peaks and troughs of the popcorn ceiling above before losing count and seeking solace in the spliff that burns his throat like a madman. he ponders if he's going crazy.

it's not long after that the undulating, monotonous buzz from his phone tickles his skin and with a sigh he goes to reply. and as he does so, his girlfriend, curiosity piqued, perks up from the foot of the bed.

"who's texting you this late?"

she looks ridiculously amusing: head hanging off the edge, loose and completely yielding like a dead body, and the only thing that reassures lando of her consciousness is the occasion movement of her arm to take another drag.

he wedges the joint between his reddened lips, lips curling awkwardly to speak, "piastri. dunno what he wants th- oh shit."

he's never felt such a sinking, crippling feeling of his high escaping him like a broken dam before. it's weirdly chilling, and for a good second, he feels brightly and vividly sober again. the texts just... stare at him and he almost wants to hurl his phone at the wall and watch it rain a litany of debris.

osc: just... forgot to give you back your stuff that i borrowed

osc: found some green leaf stuff in it lol im a bit concerned

lando's read it so many times, he's more than certain he knows just how many letters it consists of. fingers hover above the keyboard but it looks like they're weirdly swimming in air as he debates just what to write, and y/n is suddenly hissing his name, having sat up.

"— lan'! fucking hell, what happened?"

he moves on autpilot, back resting up the headboard, "he's found my weed."

y/n— y/n snorts. she sighs, moves back to her original pose, and lando's brain feels like static.

"love, i thought it would be worse."

lando splutters, "worse? babe, this is already bad! he could tell management for all i know." the mere thought of that makes lando's mind congeal. nevertheless, high out of his wits, he thinks he would somehow find a way to continue even if he was implored to stop.

she's disagreeing and laughing, and lando doesn't know what to make of it.

"nah, you're good. oscar wouldn't tell a soul," it's silent as he sees a burst of smoke ascend from the edge of the mattress, "tell him to bring it over."

lando fights with himself in his head. it's hilarious, really, watching his face morph from one emotion to another, and after 5 minutes with no whooshing affirmative of a message being sent, y/n exhales.

the bed curves in as she crawls up towards lando, before plucking the phone from his grip.

"it's really not that deep, lan'," her voice feels like cotton in his ears, "oscar isn't like that."

her fingers fly across the keyboard, how she does so in her inebriated state, lando has no clue, and just as quickly as she snatched the phone, she's sliding it back between his fingers.

"how— how do you know that?"

all presumptions, really, lando thinks. they may be good friends, him and oscar, but they've still got many, many steps to go before he's reassured that the other wouldn't go running his mouth to management because he found *fucking weed* in his bag.

the little voice at the back of his mind seeths, 'you shouldn't be smoking anyway', but he ignores it. what the hell does it know?

y/n goes to straddle him, crotch digging into his. its a soft wave of pleasure that oozes from the pressure, and lando lets a small moan mix with the puff of smoke he blows out. they would've fucked if only his limbs didn't feel like they've been detached and re-stitched; maybe they'd end the night with a lazy ride.

his girlfriend smirks, all cunning and undeniably hot, sucking in as much smoke as she can before blowing it all on his face. if anybody else had done this, he'd turn feral, but there's something alluring when y/n's exhale tickles his skin like feathers.

"how do i know? well, oscar, he kinda reminds me of you—" lando interrupts with a raised brow and a questioning stare, but y/n proceeds, "both of you are- you were- itching for a release. him not as much as you, but i still see it."

and lando can't really deny that, because he sees it too. in the way oscar's eyes seem to dart with dreaded uncertainty, and the way his shoulders are always up and tense, as if he has been tied like a puppet.

"that's what i call 'destined to get high'," y/n banters. it makes lando snort and roll his eyes (ultimately omitting to dwell on the sliver of seriousness that leaks through).

"dunno why you're rolling your eyes, you were basically begging me to give you a spliff," y/n taunts, and even though he groans at the reminiscence, he doesn't deny it. doing so would be like calling himself michael schumacher.

"yeah, whatever," he takes a lazy drag, a hand sliding up and down y/n's thigh, "at least i'm sexy when getting stoned."

y/n cackles, dissolving into a small giggle as she twirls her fingers through lando's curls; she never wants to let him go.

"damn right, baby."

another ping sounds from lando's phone, and subconsciously, his hands snakes to get it.

when he turns it on, he doesn't think he can be gobsmacked with such intensity twice in a day.

landooo: yh just bring it over

landooo: you can join us if you'd like

landooo: 😉

osc: uhm sure..

"y/n."

-.-.-.-.-

weed.

he'll be fucking damned.

the laugh that is punched out of him is one of disbelief, and, quite frankly, sheer horror.

he'd only wanted to borrow some shaving cream, after all, he's not one to favour the prickly itch of stubble. and in perfect, restless lando fashion, he was given the whole essentials bag and tasked with finding it himself.

which then leads him to now, palm burning with the weight of three spliffs that had somehow tumbled out of a flat metal tin.

he stares at them for so long that he might as well have burned holes into them (ironic), and in a flurry of movement, he's stuffing everything back into the bag, zipping it closed. if he doesn't see it, then he doesn't know it's there. cool.

but he's just standing, in the middle of his hotel room, completely clueless and delirious. he doesn't know how many times he wipes perspiration off his palms and onto his shorts, neither does he know how he's able to text lando about his findings.

originally, he thought that sending the infamous, suggestively connotated 'you up?' would've trimmed a bit of the tension away, yet it seems like lando, without fail, waters the situation with a fuck-ton more.

"'join us'? fucking hell."

oscar feels absolutely scorched from the wisps of his hair to the tips of his toes, and a spark of something curls in his gut.

no, absolutely not.

it's- he flips his watch to check the time- one am for fuck's sake, and lando's— getting high. smoking weed. [most likely] with his girlfriend.

whatever it is that makes his gut its abode curls even more as he shoves his feet into the nearest shoes he can find, and tames his hair in the mirror by the doorway. finding the night already too hard to bare, he doesn't dwell on what he'd done, and heads off to lando's room with sickening anticipation swirling within the grooves of his skin.

the walk is only a few seconds long, and oscar curses the fact that they weren't roomed further apart (impractical in usual circumstances, but the current predicament is anything but usual). he guesses he stands there, navy blue wash bag clutched in a vice grip, for many minutes (his concept of time tonight is royally fucked— how has he stayed up this late?) before he musters up some courage to knock on the door. in the quietude of the night, the sound is magnified to the point where he winces and hopes that no one else on their floor wakes up.

he hears a quiet rustle from behind the door, sighs for the umpteenth time that day (honestly, he could have a smoke for himself to- no.) before it's swiftly open.

y/n stands there, no sign of a spliff in sight, but her heavy lidded red eyes (that must hurt, right?) and the pungent smell of weed is enough to tell.

"ah, golden boy is here," y/n's grinning, as much as she can do without it looking robotic, and oscar blushes.

"g-golden boy?"

"i said what i said," she opens the door wider, and oscar's vision catches a limp leg hanging off the side of the bed, "you coming in or what?"

he's never been in such a mind-tearing crossroad before. wants to be reasonable and say no, afterall his job is on the line here (just because lando hasn't been caught, doesn't mean he won't, too). but then he's thinking that he's played angel's advocate for too long, and, as if the universe wants to commit a double homicide, lando is walking over, countenance lackadaisical and bends down as he wraps his arms around her waist.

he asks for forgiveness, because such a temptation before him is completely unforgiving , and oscar finds his vascillations come to an end the second he makes eye contact with his teammate.

it's then he realises that the something that had been driving his intestines mad was sheer want, and, having a mind of their own, his feet shuffle into the room, decision finalised by the click of the door shutting behind him.

he just hopes he doesn't regret this is in the morning.

the couple, with eased familiarity, move back to the bed, leaving oscar standing there, lost and expecting. lando regains possession of the spliff, back flat against the bed and arm bent behind his head.

he's turning to oscar, several beats later, with a heated look that just pulls the australian right in.

"put the bag down, osc," he's demanding— oh fuck, "and come over here."

oscar feels rather mortified at the effect lando's assertiveness has on him. his heart curdles, drips away like goo, and he can't think straight.

toes off his shoes, sliding them out of the way with his foot, before dumping the bag on lando's luggage and tentatively making his way to the bed.

it's excruciatingly daunting, must he say, and he's sure it's blatant because y/n is grinning softly and beckoning him closer with the wave of a hand.

"you're good, oscar."

then he's fully on the bed, a thin sheen of gray blurring his vision and the stench of smoke so thick, he could get high off it alone.

lando's splayed in front of him, watching intensely as his fingers accomodate a joint between them, and y/n's at his side, right at the foot of the bed, fiddling with a metal tin of her own.

he wonders just how long they've been doing this for.

"for me, since i was 18/19 maybe. lando started about a year ago."

oscar's brain fucking spasms.

his head whips to y/n, then back to lando, who just smiles and takes another drag, "a year?!"

the girl beside him giggles, turning back to him with a freshly rolled spliff of his own, "yeah. practically drooling to take a hit."

his teammate groans, dragging a hand down his face before sitting up, they seem to go through this ordeal once or twice before.

before he can question any more, y/n points the joint at him, "you sure you want to do this?"

funny, he's asking himself this. has been ever since he read the proposition that lando (y/n) had sent, and he had replied with a seemingly confused 'sure'. heat feels like a thousands ants crawling up his body, and the silence is even worse because he's certain his ears are filled with cement.

"am i— am i gonna get addicted to... this?"

lando shakes his head just as y/n shrugs, "depends, love. if you've got good enough self control and don't rely on it too much, you'll be fine."

oscar gives a sigh of relief, but turns tense again as he looks at lando. almost telepathically, he knows what oscar is thinking.

"no osc, i'm not hooked on this. i only do it every couple of weeks or so."

his hands raise up in defense, "just asking, mate."

"and you have every right to, baby," y/n says, then scoops his hand into her grip and puts the spliff in his hand, "now take this and let lando teach you."

oscar doesn't know what to do with it. he just stares at the green stick in his hand and wills up some courage to look back up at lando. for the first time in 22 years, he's going to experience what it's like to get high, and the excitement that crawls up his spine is chilling.

"take this," lando pushes a bottle of water into his hands, and oscar looks at it in confusion.

"it's your first time, so it'll probably make you cough a ton. drinking water helps."

oscar nods, gently taking and unscrewing it open. he gulps it down like a starved animal, and almost chokes when he notices his teammates girlfriend staring bullets into his face. his heart jumps and he stops drinking.

"now put the spliff in your mouth and let me light it for you."

oscar does so, feeling the weight of the rolled joint between his lips is completely maddening.

his teammate fishes a black lighter from the bedside table, then scooches closer to oscar's crossed legs. lando's body is like a furnace of drunken heat, and it only gets worse when his hand lands right on oscar's bare thigh.

it feels perfect and oscar thinks he's surfing on the waves of euphoria already.

"this good?" lando questions his touch, and oscar doesn't waste time to nod, "alright— when i light it, you're gonna try and inhale as much as you can. don't let it stay in your throat or you're gonna cough."

oscar bobs his head affirmatively.

"if you can't, just take it in small amounts, not too much that it hits your throat."

then lando's leaning in, flame swaying from the lighter, and oscar's eyebrows scrunch as he follows it closer and closer to the spliff.

it's instaneous, the heat that fills his mouth, and in a hurried succession, oscar is inhaling and spluttering like a madman. his eyes are burning, they may already be red at this point, and his nose feels ripped off.

"take it easy, love," a hand- y/n's- rests upon his back and he finds himself needing composure, and not only from his failed attempt to smoke.

"wow uh that was— uhm..."

lando rubs his thigh, with the intention to comfort, but oscar finds himself more pent up than before. the weed is already kicking in and his mind feels chopped into pieces and mixed with cake batter, and every touch feels like a punch.

"you good to go again?" lando queries. oscar nods, his throat feeling too rough to speak up, "okay then, take your time and calm yourself down. small intakes, yeah?"

the spliff goes back between his lips, and with lando watching him like he's the best movie he's ever seen, he's sucking in the smoke cautiously and— fuck, it feels so so good. he's unravelled everywhere, not a kink left in his joint nor a knot remaining in his muscles, and when he breathes the smoke out, he lets his head fall back with a smile on his face.

"there you go," lando's voice sounds loose and airy in his mind, and oscar finds himself loving it.

"look at him, babe," y/n chimes from beside him, and his head rolls to give her an inebriated grin, "told you he was meant for it."

lando hums, agreeing, from in front of him, "gonna shotgun with him."

whatever that is, y/n is eager to see it happen, and oscar gives lando a confused look. it only evokes a cute grin from the other, who plucks the spliff from oscar's fingers.

"i'll take a hit and blow it in your mouth, if that's cool with you."

and— oscar moans involuntarily. he doesn't know where it comes from but it's practically punched out of him with how loud it is, and lando smirks widely. all oscar can do is watch as he fills his mouth with smoke and shuffles closer to him. his heart palpitates, beating like a drum piece, and his skin is damp and flushed from the intensity of it all.

lando assesses oscar's decision, confirming his consent as he nods, and slowly, lando snakes an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. oscar is compliant, body wanting and downright desperate, mouth opening on autopilot.

the second lando's lips attach to his and the smoke is pushed into his mouth, oscar fucking loses it. his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he's grabbing lando's hair and pushing his mouth deeper.

he's kissing his teammate with all he has to give, and lando— he's reciprocating it, lips hungry on oscar's, biting and licking everywhere. for a second, oscar can't think about anything, mind filled with just lando, as his tongue slips in and turns the kiss filthy.

oscar hasn't made out with anyone with such ferocity. he's encompassed in scorching heat, and the euphoria just gets better as lando trails his lips down his neck. the bites and licks are inclement, and oscar's sure there'd be marks tomorrow, angry and purple, but right now, he doesn't care. not when lando's hands creep up his shirt, and run up his torso, resting upon his nipples and twirling them around his fingers.

"oh fuck, lando," his moan is so high pitched it sounds foreign and it's almost hard for him to believe that it comes from him. but he's sure it does, because another is forced out as soft hand turns his head to the side and there's another set of lips on his in an instant.

he thinks he could hooked on y/n's kisses, warm, wet and so fucking sensual, he feels worshipped. not an inch of skin is missed by her tongue, and with every drag of her lips against his, he's concluding that this would be the perfect way to die.

oscar's so hard in his jeans from lando's stimulation, y/n's kisses, and the heightened sensation of everything from the weed, that he almost cums in his shorts. he can only imagine how plump it could be, and how a mouth on it would have him sobbing for days.

but he doesn't have to, because lando creeps a hand to his crotch and squeezes. the whine that leaves oscars mouth and into his teammate's girlfriend's is criminal.

"gonna suck you off so good, osc," lando moans in his ear, breath warm and words dirty, "you like that?"

and as oscar begs him to, he thinks that maybe getting high with lando and y/n isn't so bad afterall.

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azsazz · 4 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 19)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 5,592

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Masterlist]

Notes: The moment we've all been waiting for 😏 (took me like four days to write this)....Happy Valentine's Day 💙

_________________________________________

The kiss is searing.

It’s a desperate attempt to taste each other, devour each other as your lips part beneath Azriel’s without thought. Your teeth clack and the sound is loud in the silence of the gallery, almost startlingly so, but his tongue is brushing across yours in a tentative swipe before you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him even more urgently as the taste of him explodes on your tongue.

He tastes fresh and spicy. There’s a hint of the champagne he’s been drinking, and just like the fizziness of it, the feeling bubbles throughout your body pleasurably. You press yourself closer. His eyelashes are so long that you swear you can feel them fluttering against your skin. The feeling goes straight to your cunt.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you lose yourself into him entirely.

A new beginning indeed.

“Wait,” Azriel pants between kisses. His words tell you that he wants to pause this kiss that is more dizzying than any of the champagne you’ve had tonight, but the way his hands caress your face, keeping you close, the way that he continues to press his mouth against yours again and again tells you that he doesn’t want this to end either. “Princess, wait.”

Ice slips through your veins as you rock back from him a little. Is he already regretting this? I mean, you did just throw yourself at him like some simpering girl, but his reassuring grip slides down your arms, holding you close. Tingles skitter in wake of his touch, but you can’t help the part of you that’s suddenly terrified of what he’s going to say.

Azriel must see it on your face too, the worry, because his brows furrow slightly like he doesn’t understand your quick reaction to pull away. He’s stepping into you, plastering himself against your front. You can feel his cock, hard with attention against your stomach. You relax slightly as the warmth from your cheeks drips down to collect at the apex of your thighs.

“You’re drunk,” Azriel breathes, and the pinch of his brows becomes more tortured when you slide your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. Those golden eyes search yours frantically, but you don’t show him anything but the ache, the need for him you have and have been locking deep inside of your soul. “I need you to be sober when I fuck you for the first time, princess.”

“I’m fine,” you whine, clinging to him as tightly as he is to you. You roll your hips a little to emphasize what you want from him and Azriel makes a choked noise in response. “I’m not drunk enough to where I’d forget any of this, Azriel.”

And fuck, the way you say his name, no longer filled with hatred or annoyance. It’s a heady whine that makes his cock harder than stone. He thinks he might crumble under your touch like a delicate piece of his charcoal. He wants to be wrapped all around you, embedded into your skin like the chalky substance he favors. He wants to ink you with his touch, with his cum—

He shakes his head, erasing those thoughts from his mind. If he continues down that path he might just rip off your dress right now and—“Fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can for a moment, leaning his forehead against yours. “I want to fuck you in a bed, not on some hard floor.”

It’s an excuse and you both know it. He could lie you down right now and fuck you so hard that your tailbone bruises from the stone floors, and you’d probably thank him.

“Just put a canvas down,” you suggest, “Let’s make some art.” He grunts like you’ve just shot him, bucking his hips against you. You can feel how big he is and you want to unleash his cock from his pants, run your fingers across the hardness of it, taste him on your tongue—

“Easy,” he warns playfully, but there’s a clear strain to his voice that tells you that he wants to keep going. Sadly, Azriel pulls your hands from his belt. You hadn’t noticed that your fingers had moved to his waist on their own volition.

“Fuck,” you curse, wincing. “Sorry.”

“Say fuck again,” he says, distracted. The honey of his eyes is dripping with lust, pupils blown wide as they drink you in. The flush to your cheeks, the way you’re biting your tongue and batting your eyelashes up at him like you’re going to make him beg for it. He might. Azriel brushes his thumb across your lip, watching the way your mouth forms the words again. “Filthy, princess,” he breathes against your mouth. “Everytime you called me prick or asshole or whatever creative curses you could come up with, you don’t know how much I wanted to come taste them off of your lips, fuck them right out of you.”

He wants to know if you’ll make the same noises that you did on the other side of that wall that day.

You can’t help but to rub yourself against him. Your sex is throbbing with need. You moan again and Azriel sucks harshly on your neck. “Shit,” you whine. His hands are everywhere, winding around your body to hold you even closer. “Need your cock, Az,” you pant, and he’s kissing you forcefully, the both of you stumbling back a few steps.

“You’ll get it, princess,” he mumbles, hands dragging hot lines down your spine to squeeze a handful of your ass. You’re about to beg him again, because your failed attempts at convincing him to fuck you right here on the floor are not working, but the lights cut out, sending the entire gallery into a pitch of darkness.

Azriel groans and you can’t help the laugh that escapes.

“What the hell?” You question through your giggling, turning as you throw a look over your shoulder as if making sure that the entire room has succumbed to the same darkness. You don’t miss the way Azriel’s grip tightens on you as you move, and the action weakens your knees.

“Thesan told me this would happen at midnight,” Azriel supplies, digging into the pocket of his trousers for his phone.

You feign a gasp, “My very own Cinderella moment! I’ve always wanted one!”

The smirk in Azriel’s tone is clear when he answers. “Except, unlike Cinderella, you’ll be getting dick tonight.”

You swat at him, but in the dark you miss. He chuckles, deep and throaty, as if the current of your swing ruffled the fabric of his shirt. You clench your thighs. Being on this side of Azriel’s good mood is spectacular, but there is no way he can keep torturing you like this.

“I think it really sets the mood; don’t you think?” You purr, fingers fumbling for the top button of his shirt.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he grouses, catching your hands and guiding you through the dark gallery instead. The flashlight on his phone leads the way. Azriel keeps your hand tucked tightly in his own as you wobble back into your heels with a soft hiss, your aching feet already protesting again. “When I fuck you, I need to see all of those pretty faces you’re going to make for me,” Azriel all but growls.

You stumble, blaming it on your shoes and Azriel steadies you.

He swipes up the glasses from the floor and you pick up the nearly empty champagne bottle, where you return them all to the kitchenette Thesan built in the back, dumping them into the sink.

When you scold Azriel for not washing the glasses, he arches a brow, illuminated by the glaring light coming from his phone. “Oh, now you want to stay longer and help clean up?” He questions and you roll your eyes in response. “Is this my punishment for wanting to take you home and fuck you in a nice, comfy bed? C’mon, princess, you know just how soft it is, don’t you?”

You shiver at his words. That, for once, you’re both completely on the same page about something.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The ride back to the apartment building is both the longest ride you’ve ever endured, and the most tension-filled.

Azriel had called a cab to take the both of you home, and spent the time waiting by pressing you up against the back door of the building and kissing the life out of you.

It’s difficult to focus on anything other than his hand in yours, the soft and rigid texture of his hand. The way that his thumb smoothes gentle circles across your own hand where they lie intertwined in your lap. The warmth of his skin is both settling and forming a rock in your stomach as you think about what he’s endured to grace these scars upon his skin. That his step-brothers had been so cruel to take a flame to the artist's hands.

You try to swallow past the lump in your throat, breathing shallowly so you don’t make yourself sick with the thoughts searing through your mind.

The driver doesn’t try to make conversation and you’re thankful for that, but the silence is consuming, aiding in your negative thoughts.

As if sensing the turn of your thoughts, Azriel squeezes your hand, and gives you a gentle smile. It’s a crooked one, one corner of his mouth tilted higher than the other, but it’s easily the most beautiful smile you’ve seen. It makes him look younger, less like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It makes you wish you had your sketchpad with you. Him looking at you like this makes you feel like there’s a garden growing in your stomach, a field of blooming flowers.

You frown when Azriel’s fingers untangle from yours but then he’s sliding that large palm scoots slowly up your thigh. You glare, glancing into the front of the car at the driver, who is paying no attention to whatever is going on in his backseat, which is perfect because Azriel’s hand is creeping higher, almost cupping your—

You splutter a little and the driver glances at you in the mirror.

“You okay?” Azriel asks, but you can hear the mirth in his voice, see the heat in his eyes, flashing in the streetlights.

You’re not all that sure that you like this new Azriel.

“Peachy,” you offer, using both of your hands to clamp down on his wrist to keep him from coming any closer to your already weeping cunt. The thin fabric of your dress does little to separate the warmth of his hand from your skin. “Just peachy.”

Azriel finds challenge in your response, and you’re no match for his strength as he softly brushes his fingers across the fabric covering your intimates. You exhale harshly and can feel the car moving faster as the driver presses harder on the gas.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You skip going into your apartment, trailing after Azriel with your hand tucked into his.

Your heart is beating wildly, like it’s trying to escape your chest. The closer you get to his door the more confident in your decision you are. You want him, want his hands all over your body, his eyes and hands on your skin and his cock plunged deeply into your cunt.

The elevator had been the only option to get upstairs because of your tired feet, but Azriel had thoroughly distracted your nervousness of getting back in the blasted metal trap by pinning you up against the door and slotting his lips over yours.

The both of you stumbled out onto your floor in a fit of laughter, helped along by the slight warmth that lingers from the champagne. Now, you’re mostly just drunk off of Azriel, his hands, the strain in his pants that’s calling your name, that gleam in his eye that you haven’t quite caught before…

“I’m going to get you some water,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. You had both creeped quietly into the dark apartment, holding your breath and listening for any movement. For college students, the weekend night is still young, and his roommates must be out because not a grunt of a wank or a moan from Feyre sounds. You follow Azriel’s mouth because you can’t get enough of the taste of him. His hands settle on your hips, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And after you drink it, if you still want to—”

“Yes, Azriel,” you cut him off, earnest. “My answer isn’t going to change.”

He studies you, golden eyes hungry with desire, before he nods, slipping from the room, the shadows of the dark living room swallowing him whole.

You bite back the smile threatening to tear your face into two at the sight of his tight ass in his black trousers. You can’t wait to rip them off and see what’s under them.

Exhaling, you spin on your heel, kicking out of your shoes. Your feet sigh with relief as they fall flat against the hardwood floors, and you wiggle your toes, admiring his room. It feels different, somehow, than when it did when you woke up here hungover as fuck.

The light from the lamp beside the bed is soft, the pile of books stacked in pristine order as opposed to the ready-to-tip-over pile you remember. It’s clean, no piles of clothes on the floor like in Cassian’s room, no pair of panties thrown over the desk chair.

Azriel’s desk is the only thing you could consider messy, but even then, it’s cleaner that what your art stations look like when you’re working on a project. There’s a jar filled with chunks of charcoal, a cloth drenched black hanging over its side. There are loose sheets of paper and thick graphite pencils for sketching, and a luster of sketchbooks stacked in a neat pile, the one on top open.

You lean closer, squinting against the shadows to get a better look, and your breath hitches in your throat.

Drawing upon drawing, and they’re all of you. He’s made you look so beautiful that you didn’t even know you looked like this. Even the ones that he’s clearly drawn in a rush, before the memory faded, are impeccable.

It’s you in the elevator, head buried in your sketchbook, hat pulled low over your eyes. It’s you when Feyre and Rhysand forced everyone to have lunch together, tossing the grape at Cassian. It’s you, swallowing up at him the first day that you met. You sitting on the back of his motorcycle, rain plastered to your head, you—

You can’t help but to turn the page, all but collapsing into the desk chair. Some of the pages are filled with larger drawings, spreading across the spine of the book. When you’d eaten dinner with him, the shock on your face when you learned that he could cook. The following pages are a double-spread from when you were staring down at him when he was changing the oil on his motorcycle.

A hysterical laugh bubbles in your throat. You hadn’t realized that Azriel had been paying as much attention to you as you were with him. The drawings of yours that you dropped all over the floor of his hands are a tribute to that.

“What are you doing?” Azriel’s voice startles you. You stand from the chair and face him, but you don’t move any closer than that. He’s standing in the doorway, a glass of water in his hand. He doesn’t move closer, and when his eyes flick from the sketchbook to you , your chest hurts at the guarded look he wears.

“That sketchbook is filled with drawings of me,” you point at the sketchbook in question, even though he was just looking at it. In some speck of the world it might seem creepy, this sketchbook filled with drawings of you, but to you, it’s no different than children scribbling names of their cushes across notebooks. It’s no different than all of the drawings you have of him.

You watch Azriel’s throat work as he swallows. Like he’s considering not answering you at all.

After a few, long seconds in silence, he breathes out a quiet, “Yes.”

“Why?” you ask, twisting your fingers together.

Azriel tracks the movement. Because you consume every waking moment of my life sounds too desperate. Because you chase my demons away sounds even crazier.

“Because I really like you.” It’s his first time admitting it, your first time hearing it from him. All of the times Feyre has tried to ask you about Azriel had been deny, deny, deny, because of this very moment right now. You hadn’t wanted to think about him like that, even when your mind was desperate to. You didn’t want to actually like Azriel, not after what he had done, but you find yourself admitting that you like him a hell of a lot more than you ever thought you could.

Bunching up the bottom of your dress, you curl your fingers around it as you take a step closer. He’s frozen in the doorway, watching you slowly drag the fabric up your body and over your head. You’d forgone a bra, and your nipples tighten in the chill of the room, underneath that piercing gaze of his.

In the few steps it takes you to cross the room to him, your dress is on the floor and he can’t stop looking at your body, drinking you in like an artist does his muse.

“I really like you too, Azriel,” you respond softly. This is the most intimate thing you’ve ever done, bare yourself to him while he’s still fully clothed, being as vulnerable as he’d been with you back at the gallery. The ball is in his court, and the bulge in his pants has you hopeful.

Azriel curses. “Fuck, princess. You’re making my hands shake.”

Your solution is simple, taking the glass from him and reaching over to set it on the dresser. You can feel the way his eyes rove your body as you move, hot like a knife.

Turning back to him, you slowly, gently take his hands in yours. They’re trembling a little, and it makes you ache.

He’s frozen to the spot as he watches you lift one of his palms to your lips, kissing it sweetly. It’s followed by the other, and then you’re dragging his hands down your skin and over your breasts, squeezing his hands around them, nipples tight with the pleasure of his skin against them.

Azriel’s breath hitches and your head nearly rolls back on your neck when his fingers twitch, fighting the urge to squeeze harder. You peer up at him. He’s so godsdamned warm, eyes dark and drinking you in like a delight. You want to feel his hands everywhere. Right this second.

“They’re not shaking right now, Azriel.”

As quick as lightning, Azriel strikes, lunging forward and scooping you off of your feet, kicking the door shut behind him.

You arch into his touch, the tightness of your sensitive nipples grazing across the soft fabric of his shirt. You moan into his mouth at the feeling and he swallows that sound desperately.

His room is small, and in two great strides he’s placing you on his bed and crawling up after you like a wolf getting its first taste of a kill.

You scoot backwards until you can’t anymore, and Azriel follows you like a worshiper to his God, like a starving artist to their muse.

His hands trail your calves to your thighs where he parts them, your clothed cunt on full display. The fabric is wet and you shiver at the cold of his room as it fights against your hot core, shivering harder when Azriel’s hot gaze drags down your body like a brush dipped in paint.

Like this, kneeling between your legs, he’s the one that looks Godlike. Strands of his black hair fall across his glowing eyes, and his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“My Gods, princess. Where do I even start with you?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.

You know that his question is rhetoric, but you can’t help the whine on an answer that slips from your lips.

“Anywhere you want.”

As if he can’t stand it a moment longer, Azriel’s hips find yours. His cock is heavy with need where it’s straining against the fabric of his trousers, and you keen as he grinds into you, fingers finding the buttons of his shirt as he watches you with hungry eyes.

Splayed out like this, on his bed, you look impeccable. A feast and he is a starving man. Biting your lip as he rubs himself against your cunt. The part to your lips, glistening in the lamplight. He drinks you in, memorizing each and every single ounce of you before your fingers find the sliver of exposed skin that grows with each button he takes off.

He’s smooth, warm, and the ridges of his muscles feel like a puzzle beneath your fingers. You know exactly where he fits, right up against your body.

Azriel’s shirt falls to the side and as if he knows the intended path of your thoughts, he’s leaning over you, caging you between his elbows as he stares deeply into your eyes. You can’t help but watch in response, suddenly so sure that you’ve spent too long arguing with him. All this time, you could’ve been doing this.

It looks like Azriel is realizing the same, as he dips down to kiss you sweetly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against your mouth again, following the words with another whisper of a kiss.

“I’ve already forgiven you,” you say, delirious from the feeling of his tongue against your neck. Azriel sucks lightly and your breath hitches, thighs quivering to wrap around his taut waist. “But if you get inside of me right now, I’ll forgive you again.”

Azriel lifts his head. With the way that his dark hair falls into his gold eyes, paired with the slight smirk on his face, it sends your heart into a rapid flutter. He’s utterly breathtaking, and something blooms deeply inside of you.

The things you’ve learned about him, from him, this man who hasn’t let his hardships keep him from doing what he loves.

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, princess,” Azriel says, and you almost whine when he pulls away from you, but he’s kissing his way down your body, sucking a pert nipple into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it while his other hand massages your free breast. Your fingers find his shoulders and you dig your nails in, hissing as he rolls your nipple between his teeth. Gods, you need his cock, right now. “I have to taste your sweet little pussy first.”

“Please,” you beg as his hands trail down your sides, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hips in a tease.

“Might have to keep you here all night. So I can study your body with my tongue,” he says, leaning down to lick a stripe up the inside of your thigh. “My hands,” Azriel continues, and the words are accentuated with a brush of his knuckle down the center of your core. The thin fabric of your panties does nothing to ease the feeling of his touch. You keen deeply, and somewhere in the haze of the storm that is Azriel that accompanies his every touch, you don’t realize he’s slipped from his pants and boxers, his thick, full length on display. “And my cock,” he finishes, rubbing himself against your soaked panties.

“Az,” you mewl desperately, but you don’t have to wait any longer because he’s already peeling your panties down your legs and settling himself there, admiring the way your pretty cunt flutters and glistens with need.

Your fingers are already fisting the sheets and it’s an effort to peer down at him, watching in anticipation as he finally, finally, lowers his head to your weeping cunt.

Fucking Gods, is Azriel wicked with his tongue, sweeping a deep stroke through your slit. He groans and the sound of it reverberates against your clit and it’s all too much already. You figure he was going to be good with his hands, being an artist, but this…the gentle to harsh touches of his tongue against your clit is otherworldly.

You gasp as he fucks into you, keeping you from scooting up the bed where your feet are planted in the sheets with his hands on your hips, holding you to his face. He’s a man undone, delirious on your taste alone. He can’t wait until his cock gets to feel this.

Azriel works his tongue, fucking into you with such hunger. He sucks greedily at your clit and you arch off of the bed. One of his palms slides across your hips, pressing you back down. He doesn’t care that you’re squeezing his head with your thighs, only cares about the sounds that he’s ripping from your mouth.

They sound even better on this side of the wall.

A finger replaces his tongue and you’re full on squirming now, fingers buried deeply into his hair as you guide his head, the flick of his tongue too good that any words besides “yes,” eddy from your mind. Azriel’s knuckle brushes the bundle of nerves inside of you and you’re seeing white, cunt clenching around his finger, grinding your pussy into the feverish flicking of his tongue as you ride out the best orgasm of your life.

You cunt aches, and Azriel’s still going, so you use your grip on his hair to jostle him a little, whimpering to get his attention.

It takes a lot more strength for Azriel to part from your cunt than he thought. Your sweetness is still on his tongue, coating his mouth when he looks up at you, dazed, as if he’s the one that’s just come from a taste of you. But no, he’s still painfully hard, trying not to rut his hips into the bed while you squirmed for him.

He wants you to do all that squirming on his cock instead.

“You alright up there, princess?” Azriel teases, crawling his way up your body once more. Following the guidance of the hand in his hair, he slants his mouth over yours, sharing the taste of you in a lazy kiss.

You hum languidly, eyes shut in bliss from the orgasm. You peek your eyes open to peer up at Azriel, who’s admiring you with a soft curve to his mouth. He looks so handsome when he smiles that it has you wrapping your legs around his hips, the both of you groaning as his cock slides through your slick folds, teasing.

“Condom,” you gasp, canting your hips to slide your wet and fully interested cunt across his length. He’s so big, and you’d be going down on him if it weren’t for the way that you desperately need to feel him inside of you, right this fucking instant.

Azriel reaches over you, pulling open the drawer of the small table next to you. He roots around for a moment and then he’s pressing back on his haunches, tearing open the condom wrapper and pulling it out.

“Let me,” you offer, and his eyes turn a shade darker when he passes it over.

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his cock in your hand, hot and heavy, silky like heaven. You can feel your slick around the length from where he’d nearly driven you to insanity with that teasing grind against your cunt, and in retaliation, you give his cock a tug, reveling in the low growl that comes from the back of his throat.

“Princess,” he threatens, and your thighs jolt, trying to shut around your screaming clit at the sound.

You don’t wait for Azriel to take charge. As soon as you roll the condom on you’re brushing the head of his cock against your cunt again, slicking him and lining him up with your entrance, looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes.

“Fuck me, Az. I can’t wait another minute.”

His lips meet yours in a bruising kiss and he slowly presses his cock into you.

“Fucking fuck, princess. You’re so tight for me.” His words are shaky against your mouth, as if he’s struggling to hold himself back from pressing into you all the way, from cumming with a singular touch.

You mewl his name on the breath that’s forced from your lungs with each inch he plunges into you. Gods, he looked big, felt bigger in your hand, and as he works his cock into your heat, you’re not too sure he’s going to fit all the way.

But the words he’s whispering into your ear, onto your skin have you melting. The finger he slips between your bodies to play with your clit is distracting enough to where you’re focused on the pleasure he’s pulling from you.

And then his cock hits that spot, nestles up against it when your hips meet, and you cry out in joy. “Right there, Azriel. You feel so good.” Your fingers dig into the long lines of muscle down his back, trying to hold him closer, as if you aren’t already touching in every way possible.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment?” he asks you, accentuating his words with a slow roll of his hips that makes you both groan, your nails biting into his skin like the needle from his tattoo gun. It drags a shiver up his spine as a fleeting thought zips through his mind, one of you, naked and sitting on his cock, giving him another tattoo. He’ll teach you how to hold the tattoo gun and let you have free rein with it, because anything that you can give him, he wants. Azriel squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to burst at the visual. If anything, he can’t wait to coat your virgin skin in his ink. There is so much canvas for him to work with, all smooth and perfect, waiting for some artwork. “When you were touching yourself on that side of the wall,” he pants, pulling out and fucking back into you slowly. The drag of your walls so tight around his cock is perfect. He won’t last long.

You gasp as he bottoms out again, throwing your head back into the pillows. “You heard that?”

His hum is strained, and he can’t help but to kiss you. “You’ll have to show me how you touched yourself some day, princess.”

You moan loudly at the thought of that, gripping him tighter. Azriel sitting in his chair, charcoal poised above his sketchpad as he watches you with dark eyes, while you touch yourself to the thought of him. Just how he’s touching you now, tight, little circles around your clit.

“I heard you with that guy,” Azriel continues, and his thrusts become harsher, deeper. “With that fucker from the coffee house. I bet you faked it with him, all that laughing and sighing. I’m going to find out if those noises were real or not.” You shiver at his words, but Azriel couldn’t be further from wrong.

“We didn’t fuck,” you pant, bucking your hips up to meet his. Azriel makes a choked sound, canting his hips to hear you keen wildly at the change of angle. And then, because you know it will make him come undone, you say, “All of this is just for you, Az.”

Azriel nearly cums at those words alone. The coiling in his bones is so hot that he readjusts for better leverage, and fucks into you with abandon. Gods, he loves the way that you’re clinging to him, the way your cunt squeezes his cock tightly, like you never want to let him go.

He’s been a fucking fool all of this time. A Godsdamn fucking fool. He could’ve had you like this, milking his cock dry, making these sounds that threaten to tear the walls down. He could’ve had his hands all over you, because you seem to like the way that he’s touching you, even with how fucked up they are.

“I’m going to memorize everything about this perfect body of yours, princess,” Azriel groans, thrusting deeply. He can tell you’re on the verge of your own orgasm, with the way your cunt squeezes him, the way those gorgeous eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth parts, letting out those filthy noises he revels in. “We’ve got all night. Let me see you cum again, princess. Cum all over my cock. Oh, fuck, princess. That’s it.”

Your orgasm rocks through you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath away. You hold onto Azriel like he’s your lifeline, trembling in the aftershocks. The white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins is incredible, and you wrench your eyes open at the sound of Azriel’s shaky warning.

Azriel follows you into serendipity. He wishes he were painting your body in white strokes. It’s always been far from his favorite color, but he thinks it could quickly become his favorite if he could see his cum splattered across your skin.

For the first time, you don’t care that it’s loud on this side of the wall.

Because you’re on it.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @homeslices @quinzzelx @carlandonorri-s @juniper-july19 @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92

#acotar #azsazz #midnight muse #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #artist!azriel #tattoo artist!azriel #art school au

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0nmykne3s · 4 months

Text

sick cuddles | l. Williamson x teen!reader

(just pretend youre the dog haha)

summary: you go to training sick, leah takes care of you

(i'm not that good at summaries)

a/n: hi guys!! this is my very first time writing any form of story outside of school, so some feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated! also keep in mind that i don't know anything about pro footballers schedules, so i'm just guessing. english isn't my first language so please keep that in mind <3

1064 words

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After snoozing your alarm for the seventh time you finally decided to wake up. It felt like you had woken up from the dead, you had the most dreadful headache ever and your throat was so sore, it felt like there was a literal porcupine inside your throat. You tiredly reached for your phone to check the time, and it read 09.52 “OH SHIT, I'M LATE, LEAH’S GOING TO KILL ME!” you exclaimed, which you quickly regretted once you burst out into a coughing fit.

When you first joined Arsenal at 16 years old, it was Leah who first took you under her wing. She let you live with her until you found an apartment you could move into, despite her protests of you being too young to live alone you decided to move. The first four months of you living there Leah always came over to check on you, she would have kept doing it if you hadn't complained about it all the time. She agreed to stop coming over, only if you would call her immediately if something happened.

You quickly dressed yourself and made some toast, and ran out the door. It was 10.14 when you finally got to the arsenal training centre. Luckily for you the girls didn't notice you coming in, since they were busy cleaning up breakfast. “Hey y/n! Where have you been? I didn’t see you coming in earlier” Beth asked you once she saw you. “Oh, i was just… sitting over there” you say awkwardly as you waved your hand to a random area. “Weird, anyways..” she said as she started rambling on about Myle and how cute she is. You were honestly not paying attention and just throwing in a random mhm and awe once in a while. You felt someone looking at you, so you looked around a bit, until you saw Leah looking intensely at you as if she was trying to figure something out.

Leah felt like something was a little off with you, your voice was a little hoarse and you looked a little pale. She made a mental note to keep an eye on you throughout training. Beth was still rambling on about Myle and showing you pictures of her, until Leah came and interrupted “Y/N come on you’re going to be late”, “Okayy” you sighed.

You were walking to the pitch with Leah until you abruptly stopped as a wave of dizziness came over you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened? She asked as she put her arm around to steady you. “Yeah, I just suddenly got a little dizzy, but it's alright” you responded. Leah brushed it off, knowing you wouldn't tell her anyways.

You were trying to dribble the ball past Katie, until Katie went in for a tackle, which was 100% clean, but since you were sick and a little unstable you fell over onto the grass, face down. “Ey, mate you good?” Katie asked you, “Yea.. just give me second” you groaned. “Hey! What's going on?” You heard Leah yell. “I don’t know!” Katie said defensively. You heard Leah running over, and when she got to you, you felt her bend over and put a hand on your back, “Hey kid, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?” she asked softly, “My head” you whispered in a barely audible voice. “Okay” she said worriedly, she put her hand on your head, “Jesus christ, you're burning up!” she said, sounding quite distressed. She lifted you up from the ground, “Alright good girl, let’s get you inside. Okay?” Leah said softly, as she was basically carrying you, as you were barely able to stand on your own. “Okay” you mumbled, not really paying attention to what she was saying because of how much your head was pounding.

“She has a high fever, and is quite dehydrated. She can't train for the rest of the week and she needs lots of rest and make sure she drinks enough water..” the doctor said. “Alright, you hear that bub. Lots of rest and water” she said, while rubbing your back.

By the time you were done at the doctor, training was over. “Y/n/n training is over so i'm going to drive us to mine, okay?” Leah said. “Yeah, okay..” you said tiredly. You were in the backseat while Leah was driving. Every once in a while Leah glanced back to see how you were doing, when she looked back at you she smiled fondly at the sight of you sound asleep leaning against the window. When you made it home you were still asleep so Leah carried you inside deciding that you needed the rest. When you made it inside Leah put you softly down onto the couch, so she could keep an eye on you while she made food.

“Hey sweets wake up, I made your favourite pasta.” she whispered softly, while rubbing your back. “Mmm okay” you mumbled half asleep. After you and Leah finished eating, she took the plates and started washing them. “Thanks for the Le, it actually tasted good” you joked in your hoarse voice, “Ha ha” she said sarcastically, just as you were about to laugh you burst out into a coughing fit. Leah turned around alarmed, “Hey, hey, it's okay” she said comfortingly while she rubbed your back. Once you had settled down, she went to get something. When she came back you saw her carrying a cup of tea, “Here, it's tea for your throat”, “Thanks Leah” you mumbled.

Once you had finished your tea, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, “Let's get you to bed, alright?” Leah said, in which you just hummed in reply. You walked into the bedroom and changed into the clothes Leah lent to you, which was an old Arsenal hoodie and a pair of pyjama shorts. “Le, snuggles please?” you asked shyly when you were done changing, “Alright bub, i'm just going to change then i'll be back” she said chuckling. When she was done changing you both laid down in bed, with you laying against Leah with your head in her crook of her shoulder, and Leah hugging you while tracing aimlessly around your back. Just like you guys used to do after you had a nightmare and came into her room, when you lived together.

Shortly after you were sound asleep in her arms.

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hope you guys enjoyed! a comment or some feedback would be greatly appreciated <3

#arsenal wfc #woso #woso community #arsenal x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #katie mccabe #fluff

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diremoone · 6 months

Text

written in fine print | r. sukuna

moving to japan to get a breath of fresh air was supposed to be one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. it still may be, but now you’ve got a problem and you don’t know what to do about it. the problem? ryomen sukuna, one of the wealthiest men on the planet, being… enamored with you. you’ve come fairly far with him as “friends” while keeping him at bay, but after you both spend christmas together, you know that things have changed. and come the first day of the new year comes a surprise that forces you to face your bottled-up truth.

[ Ryomen Sukuna Masterlist ] | part three

w — slowburn, age gap, modern au, older man/younger woman, fluff, mild? angst, this time we get reader’s pov bc it’s time ;3, insecure! reader, self-indulgence, A KISS (but just one for now sorry y’all), reader and sukuna lay their feelings on the table (I’m sorry I couldn’t help but finally get to this part), sukuna gets kinda prose-y lmao, slightly unsatisfied with this fic but I hope y’all enjoy anyway, sprinkle of bittersweet at the end

God, have mercy upon my soul.

The dozens of text messages from your cousin have you sitting on the edge of your bed in absolute disbelief. You haven’t even had any coffee yet, or any sort of something in your stomach. It’s sheer willpower keeping you from throwing up the stomach acid in your belly.

But you do need something. You make your way into the kitchen and nab the biscuits you made yesterday from the bag they were in. You shouldn’t, but you eat all four of them anyway. Then you drink something.

You were wondering why everything was going too good, why life had been so… easy as of late. Now you understood why. It was the calm before the storm. It was the universe allowing you to have some semblance of peace before it decided to throw you into the pit of mental and emotional turmoil that you’d been so great at avoiding.

Why in the world did the universe decide to put Ryomen Sukuna into your life?

That’s the question you have been asking yourself over and over again ever since you decided to take him up on the offer of a first date six months ago. Even worse, why did you even think it was a remotely good idea to get involved with someone over ten years older than you? Universe aside, you should’ve had the good judgement to keep Sukuna away. Your good intuition was something you’d always prided yourself on, so why did you decide to even let Sukuna keep coming around?

You go back to your room and get the phone, rereading over the messages. One in particular your eyes stay on:

A benefactor has paid for nana’s care and set her up in a really fancy, upscale care and rehabilitation facility here. They came and got her this morning to transfer her. When I asked about it, someone from registration said it was a gift for you. Who the fuck did you meet in Japan? 5:16 am

And you know, deep within your soul and in your gut that Sukuna was behind this. There’s no one you know that has the money to pull off something like taking your grandmother from where she was to a facility where she’s going to get more constant help, cleaned, proper rehabilitation. No one else but him.

The coffee maker suddenly beeps, beginning to brew a fresh pot of coffee. You almost jump out of your skin from it. You wait until it’s done before digging out one of the banana nut muffins Shoko brought over two nights ago to pre-celebrate the new year.

You truly don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure about everything. Coming to Japan to get a breath of fresh air from the strain your old life was supposed to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made. But now, all it’s become is a whirlwind of even more, even deeper emotional confusion.

Meeting Yuuji was great. Meeting his older brother? The entire source of the emotional confusion.

You lean against the counter and gaze outside. The snow has finally ceased and you’re sure dozers are out clearing the roads. You can’t help but fall into your thoughts.

For awhile, you’ve had… feelings. You’re not quite sure what they are, but you know that they revolve around the older, rich man you’ve befriended. You know that whenever he’s around, you feel more… open, lighter even. You know he makes you feel flustered, to which you’ve learned to seal said fluster inside of a bottle and remain indifferent in his presence. Every time he looks at you or speaks to you, it makes you feel… giddy. Happy, dare you say it.

And it’s something you swallow down and hide every time it bubbles to the surface, fearing that it’ll be nothing more than the same story as your mother: a heart broken by the letdown of not ever being enough, not being what the man actually wanted, and not being genuinely cared for.

The mug of coffee in your hands grows hot, almost scalding against the skin of your palms. It brings you out of your own mind, just in time to hear your phone vibrate with more text messages, all still from your cousin.

Because apparently fate dropped a man in your lap that was more than ready to give you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted: unconditional love on a gold platter; fate decided that you finally deserve a break from strife and grief, that you deserved to stop eating humble pie, because lord knows you’ve done choked and damn near suffocated on that shit; that you deserved to be cherished and loved and made to be someone’s number one in their life.

You know. You fucking know what Sukuna does to you, how he makes you feel inside. You also know how he wants to treat you and the things he wants to do to you. And perhaps with you, if your gut instinct is right and he wants more than a body to warm his bed.

Who are you kidding? You know you’re right.

But it’s unfortunate for you that all you’ve learned to do is bottle up your feelings and act like they don’t exist. Because you’ve never been loved, not romantically anyway. Especially not like this, from someone like this.

How were you supposed to love? What did it really mean to be in a relationship? You’ve never been in one. Not one that ever really was going to go as far as this. Was what you were feeling all temporary? And if you did get into a relationship, what if he didn’t like you when you got comfortable? What if he didn’t like it when you laughed too hard, or any of the habits you have? What if he was just wanting to play savior and ended up leaving you a few months from now?

You toss your head back and groan. Why? Why was this happening to you?

You opt to spend the day inside, rather than go out like you had planned. You have to text Shoko and Utahime, letting them know that you’re not going to be able to participate in their plans of going out and visiting shrines for the new year. The latter is reasonably mad, but Shoko calms her down in the group chat. Although she does make an innuendo about spending the day with someone else “cozied up in bed” rather than them. You send her a side eye emoji in return on her personal thread.

You change out of your pajamas and into some casual clothes — a dark red long sleeve and some black sweatpants, switching to house socks to regular socks — despite not intending to go out for the day. You do end up on the couch for most of the day, switching your attention from the TV and the messages on your phone more than you care to admit. You hardly eat, and don’t realize it until you can feel your stomach against your spine each time.

All day is basically wasted in front of the television, trapped in your own mind. Trapped in the whirlwind that Sukuna has made of your heart and emotions.

You graze through your entire stock of sweets in less than a day, uncaring if it was unhealthy. Dusk settles on the horizon before you know it and you’re anything but tired. In fact, you’re wide awake.

“What do I do…?” you ask into the open air. You feel stupid doing it, but apparently fate has a response for you.

It’s 9:18 at night when several strong knocks rap at your door.

It’s 9:20 when you decide to finally answer the door.

It’s 9:24 when you realize you’ve got a guest at the front door, the very same man who’s been making you question yourself and your whole life ever since coming to this country.

It’s 9:30 when you question to yourself why you let him in. You didn’t think it through, that much you’re sure of. How could you be when he’s thrown your heart all topsy-turvy and mushed it into goo?

Just looking at him from his back floods your mind and makes your heart race, something you hope you’re able to hide by what you hope is a face of indifference and calmness. You can see the tattoos peek out from his turtleneck, and you have to gulp down your nervousness.

The large mug of fruity tea you’ve poured has now chilled, the ice just barely clinking in the glass. You quickly open the cookie jar on the counter and shove two snickerdoodles in your mouth to stress-eat being prepared for what was coming next.

“I…” you begin, and embarrassingly realize you have to swallow the cookies to talk. “I wasn’t expecting you to… show up.”

Sukuna’s silent for a moment, then replies stoically, “Neither was I.”

You gaze at him longer than you intend to. Your attention is mostly on his tattoos, the little bits that are peeking out from the deep crimson of his form-fitting turtleneck. You watch him readjust the watch on his wrist, partially revealing the tattoo inked onto his wrist. To your surprise, Sukuna actually doesn’t like showing off his tats. He used to in his younger years; he’s still proud of them, but he isn’t as much into flaunting them to the world nowadays.

Sukuna’s deep voice cuts through the air. “Have you… gotten my gift?”

You bite your lower lip. You nod even though he can’t see you. “Yeah… If you mean the one involving my grandmother, then yes.”

“I do apologize if I crossed any lines doing such a thing,” he says. “But I don’t regret it.”

“I can imagine you don’t,” you reply, knowing full-well that him regretting anything was a very rare occurrence. “But… Why? Why would you do that? Go through such trouble to help me… and my family? Just… Why?”

His ginormous frame turns to face you to look into your eyes and answer with nothing short of honesty, “Because I want you to be cared for. I’ve seen happiness in your eyes and I want to keep you happy. I want to be the one making you happy.”

“Buying my love will only get you so far,” you say.

“I know. I want to do more for you. I want… to be more for you. Not just… this. Whatever we have going on,” Sukuna admits casually, crossing his burly arms over his chest. But he doesn’t make eye contact. In fact, he keeps his eyes to the floor, away from your gaze. “I know what I want, although I’m not quite sure how to describe everything I feel… when I’m with you and when I think about you. It’s… I know what it is, I’m pretty sure, but at the same time… I don’t.”

“It’s new for you,” you mumble. Surprisingly, he actually hears you and nods. He doesn’t lie. Not with you.

“I’ve been with many women over the years, all for the same reason. I’ve never felt like falling in love or that it would ever matter. I know lust, I know what comes with that. With you, it’s anything but. At first, yes. But your immediate rejection, you continuing to keep your distance from me and your distaste known made me stop and think.”

You raise your brows. “All it took was a girl with some strong boundaries to make you realize you can’t live off being just horny for then rest of your life?”

Sukuna laughs. He actually laughs. A bright smile crosses his handsome face as his shoulders shake with laughter. He tries to cover it up with a hand, but all it does it muffle it into loud chuckles. It takes a good couple minutes before his chuckles finally fall into a simple smile of amusement. That’s when you admit your own truths. If you were going to be hurt, you might as well get it over with.

“In a way,” Sukuna admits. And then he admits even more, opening his heart and putting it on his sleeve. “You’ve reminded me that there is more to life, that I can be genuinely happy beyond office walls and red light districts. You have made me remember what feeling excited, what being on my toes feels like. You make the air lighter… happier, every time I see you. You… I care for you.”

Sukuna’s last words of admission are watered-down and you both know it. Then again, he says he is new to these kinds of feelings. And at this point, you believe him. You wonder if he knows that you’re just like him — exactly the same: that you’re new to the feelings of love, what it means to be in love. It’s confusing, really. You’re not sure where to begin when it comes to saying the things that Sukuna has seemingly had no problem admitting to you. You can’t just say, “Ditto” and make out with him.

Well, you could, but that’s beside the point.

You swallow the frog in your throat and look at him. He isn’t looking at you but at the ground, almost like he’s unsure of himself.

“You’ve made yourself a cozy place inside me, too,” you speak softly. Your hands don’t leave the mug as you set it on the counter. “We’ve only known each other for barely half a year, you know? You make me wonder if what I’m feeling is love, most of the time. I enjoy you; I enjoy your company. I enjoy the thrill you bring into my life. I… enjoy how weightless you make the world feel. I… I like the thought of being… prioritized. I’m just… confused on whether or not these feelings are rooted in love or something else entirely.”

“And I apologize for making you feel that way,” he replies. “That isn’t my intention.”

You’re quick to your words before he can continue. “Don’t apologize. Please. It’s not your fault. I… I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what love is or what it’s supposed to feel like. I’ve never been loved, and I’m not quite sure how to reciprocate it. I’m afraid I’ll fuck up. Say the wrong thing, not do something right.”

Sukuna’s brows furrow. “There is no right or wrong way to be in a relationship — just yourself.”

“I’ve heard that, just as much as I’ve heard otherwise.”

Silence fills your apartment. You tap your nails against the glass mug, little tinks! resounding. You can’t look at Sukuna now. Not after just admitting to having never been in a romantic relationship. Now, you must seem more of your age than you ever have in his eyes.

“Any insecurity you have is not invalid. I would never disrespect them,” Sukuna finally says, sheer conviction making you shiver.

The giant man stands to take his place not even a foot from you. Magnetism draws you to his face and you cannot look away. His hand comes up and brushes his large fingers across your cheek.

And like an open book, he reads you from the front cover to the very last word, reading off your exterior cover and the interior pages you’ve hidden away. “You’ve carved yourself from early maturity, into someone that your loved ones have needed you to be. You’ve never been able to truly be yourself, be free. You’ve always had to be the rock that everyone has needed, when no one has been for you. You desire to be loved, but not at the expense of heartbreak nor sacrificing the person you’ve molded yourself into for the people you love. You desire to be free above all else, not wanting to be loved unless there’s someone who can love you and give you your freedom at the same time.”

You gape, eyes almost as wide as saucers with your eyelids lined with burning tears. You dip your head and sniffle.

“I want that. I want that for you. I want to be the one to give that to you,” Sukuna continues. “The time we spent together not even a week ago, I want more of that. I no longer want to live the way I’ve been living. I want to live with you, do those kinds of things with you. That sounds corny as fuck coming from me of all people, but that’s the truth.”

You can’t help but laugh. His tone of exasperation at himself was just too funny not to.

“And what happens when you give me those things? Will you be done with me? Move on to the next person?” you ask. “Once you’ve played the part of the savior, won’t those feelings end?”

“I’ll never be done with you,” he answers instantaneously, like it was nothing short of law. “You’ve captivated me, all of me. I’ve already tried pulling myself away a multitude of times. But then one little word of anything about you and you’re all I think about for the rest of the day.”

You sniffle again and laugh. “Did you practice this? You sound like a poet.”

“I can be one if you’d like.” You giggle at that. It’s silly, but you feel like Sukuna would oblige you if you said yes. “But I mean it, every word.”

You nod and whisper, “I know you do.” Because it’s the truth. He’ll never not mean anything he says. Brutal honesty is apart of Sukuna.

The emptiness of your apartment is deafening, it’s silence almost palpable to the point where you feel like you might being to suffocate. But large, firm hands cup your cheeks and bring oxygen into your lungs again.

His hands are warm, so warm. The feeling of being touched like this, so intimately, makes all the blood flow to your cheeks to the point where you think you’ll overheat.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, tone quiet, voice deep and baritone that makes shivers roll up your spine. “At least once?”

You can’t help but bite into your lower lip. The suffocating feeling has returned, just for a different reason. But your instinct goes first — action taking the initiative over the brain — and you nod once more, mumbling out a small “yes” that you chastise yourself for being so meek.

Sukuna’s free arm wraps around your waist and gently pulls you to your tippy-toes. You’re running on instinct, one hand resting on his chest, the other circling behind his neck, eyelids slowly closing as he dives in for the kiss you’ve allowed. And when his hand cradles the back of your head, his lips meet yours, and you swear to everything from heaven to hell that you’re about to explode and die in this man’s arms.

Everything feels like it’s on fire… until it doesn’t. That fire slowly simmers down to a gentle flame, one that brings a sense of contentment.

Sukuna tilts his head, moving your lips and deepening the kiss. You allow it, and it feels like the kiss has sunk to a new depth of desire. Dare you even think or say it be devotion. His lips are warm and sweet on yours; his kiss isn’t one of urgency, but perhaps the desperation of longing. It’s not slow and controlling, not greedy. Whatever this kiss is and all the emotions contained within, you know it makes you at peace and content.

Everything feels perfect.

You both part for air, lips slow to disconnect. You can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed being so out of breath, but hearing the slight heaviness of breath coming from the large man makes you feel less awkward.

“Thought you said you hadn’t been in a relationship before?”

Your reply is breathless, “Never have.”

“Then you must be a naturally good kisser.”

That makes you laugh. You press your head to his chest and giggle away, to which you hear what you think is a chuckle from his throat.

It’s 11:20 at night by the time you look at the clock again. It’s too late for Sukuna to go home. That’s the excuse you use anyway. He’s seemingly more than happy to use the excuse right along with you to spend a night with you.

Come morning, however, things shift back to the way they were before: confusing and lonely. The couch was just as empty as the apartment. Under you was not Sukuna’s body, but a stack of pillows from your bedroom.

The note on the counter about being called in for an important meeting doesn’t do his absence justice either, instead sending every one of your walls back up, twice as high and just as thick as they were before.

Your phone dings with new messages. Utahime and Shoko, both of which declare they’re coming over to drag your ass out of your apartment to go shopping like you should’ve yesterday.

You text them back, telling them you’ll meet them at the mall, that you’re going to get ready and this time you aren’t going to miss out.

You don’t know what to do or what to think. You don’t know if one night of vulnerability means anything more than just being open with another human being. All you know is that you need a break, from yourself, your confusion, from life, and especially from Sukuna.

You need the clarity of a shopping trip and good friends for company, because your hopes for what’s coming next are getting far too high and you’re beginning to really fall in love with Sukuna Ryomen.

taglist: (no longer adding)

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #modern! sukuna #modern! au #jjk sukuna #sukuna fluff

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luv4georgie · 1 month

Note

ooohh a number 16 and 18 angst with lando omggg pls.

(your writing is so amazing )

the scientist.

Lando Norris x fem!reader

in which formula one star, Lando Norris, and “girlfriend”, Y/n L/n, go through some complications after Y/n finds a-few things out.

warnings: toxicasf!Lando, cheating, allusions to death, mental death, crying, a-lot of swearing, FLASHBACKS IN ITALICS

prompt list

prompts 16 and 18 for angst- “it was a dare” and “why am i always your last option?”

“tell me you love me, come back and haunt me.”

i was sad. not even sad. more than that. Lando had broken up with me. 2 years gone to waste. 2 years of me loving him. 2 years all a lie. nobody said it was easy, fair enough, but no-one ever said it would be so hard. i could never fall in love again. i just couldn’t. it hurt so much. it still does. every-time i think of it, it feels like a dagger goes through my heart. was it me? was i the problem? why was i so hard to love?

it was a Saturday night when Lando decided to confess. confess the biggest lie of my and maybe, just maybe, his life. “it was a lie.” Lando said. me, still laughing and oblivious to what was happening, responded. “what?” i said still laughing, not turning to face the ‘love of my life’ yet. “everything Y/n/n” i turned to face him, a smile still on my face which quickly dropped seeing his overly serious expression. he had tears in his eyes and looked like he was cowering. “what’s everything Lan?” i questioned again. tears fell from his eyes, then i knew it was bad. “our relationship. my love for you.”

then it happened my stomach did 100 flips, my heart beat 1000x faster. some odd taste popped up in my mouth and before i knew it i was running to my bathroom, throwing up. Lando hadn’t moved from where he was standing. he was crying, letting his head hang low. once i finished being sick. i washed my mouth out and slowly made my way to the living room which looked into my kitchen, where Lando was. on wobbly legs i walked up to him around 3 feet away from him. now i get it. now i get why he never wanted to move in with me. i get why he acted weird and always rejected my love around his stupid friends.

me and Lando was at the club with a few of his friends. he had cheated. i know he did. i didn’t leave though i stayed there. he didn’t bother touching me around his friends. he never has really. i watched Lando dance, grind and kiss on another girl. i was shocked but to drunk to care. i was upset nonetheless but just couldn’t wrap my head around it. i watched as he did the same with 3 other beautiful girls. that’s when i had enough. “Lando!” i shouted. i grabbed his wrist, told him he’s had a-lot of drinks and that he should slow down but he waved me off. offended i scoffed and ignored him. “a bit clingy, ay” i heard Max shout. “yeah, she’s always all over me it’s weird” Lando responded. my eyes widened and i shoved him out of my way and made my way to the the exit. “fucking move” some random man said. “shut up dumbass” i retorted.

“what did you just fucking say?” he said, pushing me really aggressively into another girl, one of the girls Lando was dancing with, who gave me the dirtiest look ever. i tried to say sorry but she slapped me. all i heard was one word getting chanted around ‘fight’. a circle formed around us both. i kept dodging her punches but still took a few. i didn’t hit her back. i didn’t want to. i couldn’t. suddenly i saw a familiar pair of arms wrap around the girls waist, who i found out to be called Chelsea. it was Lando. grabbing onto her waist and carrying her out of the exit. i scoffed again. tears pricked my eyes and i was so annoyed. i was that angry and pissed off i cried. i ran out of the exit and accidentally bumped into a wall-like chest. Lando. “where are you going?” he asked. i didn’t answer just wriggled out of his grasp and ran to the corner of some steps i saw earlier. he followed me. “why am i always your last option Lando? why? i’m your girlfriend, yet you help someone you met 10 minutes ago and comfort them. i don’t get it”. Lando being Lando told me i was overreacting, called an uber and took us both home.

“why are you fucking crying Lando?” i whispered. “you don’t get to fucking cry!” i shouted this time. tears stung my eyes and more fell from his. he dropped to his knees and cried pathetically. i just stared at him in disgust. “you’re fucking sick Lando” i said, my voice broken and wrecked. “sick. i can’t believe it. am i a joke? why am i so fucking hard to love?” i cried. “please baby, i’m sorry, it was a stupid dare and i laughed and did it” he begged. “you laughed at me? you fucking laughed at the idea of asking me to be your girlfriend. you knock me fucking sick Lando. fucking sick.” i cried and cried. he wouldn’t shut up, even after i told him to get out, he didn’t. he just kept saying sorry and please. i didn’t get it. am i that fucking hard to love. that’s when my life ended. everything inside of me died that night, even if i was physically there, i died.

AUTHORS NOTE: sorry this is really short, i’m literally just reflecting on my last relationship with this because most of this is a true story in my life but a-lot less worse, that ex hurt me in every-way possible and as we know Lando would never do something like that so please don’t say i have said he would. thank you. and thank you for all your support recently ❤️❤️

#f1 #f1 x reader imagines #spotify #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #nolan hansen

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i2ycat · 1 month

Text

— the ‘us’ theory

pairing sunoo x fem!reader synopsis after years of no contact, a sudden rekindling in your relationship with sunoo makes sparks soar higher than they’ve ever gone. it’s hard not to see just how much you missed being around your old best friend again genre slight angst, fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, college au word count 4.3k (was only supposed to be arnd 600, idk what happened LOL) warnings wrote this on 1% brain cells so please excuse if it seems like the plot is underdeveloped and pacing is weird, i know nothing ab mortal kombat, semi-proofread main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

You’ve known Sunoo since forever. From the moment you took your first baby step to the moment you got absolutely hammered by another girl in your grade, Sunoo had been right by your side, from kindergarten all the way to primary school.

It was weird not to see your brooding self beside the beaming boy, seeing as you guys never separated from each other for even a second. It made your parents think the both of you had separation anxiety, always throwing tantrums whenever the other wasn’t around.

But that was only until primary school.

By the time secondary school rolled around, you naturally started to drift apart. Being in the year above him, he stuck to his own group of friends, while you had yours. You had easily accepted the course that your relationship with Sunoo was headed off to, wanting to fit in with the rest of your ‘ew juniors’-minded clique so badly, because who hung out with juniors anyways?

It didn’t help that, not soon after, your father was stationed to a different department of the company on the other side of the world. You felt sad leaving everything you knew behind, all the familiar places, but you were also 13 and ready to be anywhere but the place you had been confined to. It felt exhilarating to finally leave everything behind — not that you had much to begin with. It’s always been just your mother, your father, and you.

Sunoo was out of the conversation by the time you turned 16. He became just someone you’d remember in passing; your parents bringing him up every now and then, but you never dwelled on the thought of him for too long.

By the time you were 19, you could barely remember what he even looked like, given that you'd only seen up until his pre-puberty phase: toothy grins, chubby cheeks, and all.

So imagine your shock when a taller, more mature shell of a man presents himself in front of you, claiming to be the Kim Sunoo you’ve already forgotten all about.

“Don’t you remember me? I’m Kim Sunoo!”

You met him by complete chance.

The last time you heard of Sunoo was when your mom broke the news on a random Sunday night that the Kim family would be permanently moving to Japan, and that was three years ago.

“Cmon, I’ve known you for, like, 13 years.” He clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, I guessed. I’m just shocked to see you here.”

“What? Is seeing a young man shopping for groceries so hard to believe?” He jokes, taking a pack of ramen noodles from the shelf and placing it carefully into his cart.

“It’s not that.” You chuckle. “I thought you moved to Japan?”

“Well, I can’t really be leeching off my parents forever.”

He’s got more wit to him than you remember.

“Right,” You quickly reply, unconsciously walking the rest of the noodles and pasta aisle at the same pace that he is.

“Wow, even after all these years, you’re still the same old Y/n I used to know.” He smiles at you, the apples of his cheeks tinting a light pink under the blindingly white LED lights overhead. It suddenly brought you back to times of playing together in the playground after school, the summer rays rendering the both of you sweaty messes while your mothers talked about adult gossip somewhere in the distance. The simpler times, when fitting into social circles barely even mattered yet.

“Am I supposed to be offended?” As you arrive closer to the snack aisle, you start to grab at items not scribbled on your sad excuse of a grocery list. You should really stop doing that; you mentally chide yourself.

“Maybe. Depends on how you take it.” He shrugs. “Doritos?” You shake your head.

Silence starts to permeate the air between the both of you, save for some random Nirvana tune playing faintly in the background. It wasn’t awkward per se, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either; rather, it sat right in the middle.

You’ve known Sunoo for 13 whole years of your younger adolescent days, but right now, it feels like you’ve just met him for the first time. Technically you are, after a few years that is, but maybe it was just you and your ineptitude for social interactions. Chae was right, you really should socialize with people more.

A beat or two passes by, “Are you free tomorrow by any chance?” Sunoo turns to you, bright eyes boring into yours.

“Why?”

“I just moved here like a week ago, and I have absolutely no friends.” He pouts, “Mind giving an old friend company on his own birthday?”

“It’s your birthday?” You stop in your tracks.

“Tomorrow, yeah.”

“Okay. Just send me the address.” You take out your phone to hand him, “You’re not just about to lure and kill me right?”

“Now why would I do that?” He lifts his eyebrows at you as he keys in his phone number, naming himself ‘no.1 childhood best friend’ in the process.

“You can never be too sure nowadays.”

“Yeah, as if I would kill my only friend in this entire city.” He retorts, fingers brushing yours ever-so-slightly as he hands you back your phone.

—

Seeing the bare-bones state that Sunoo’s box apartment was in made you feel for him. You’d already spent your early teens adjusting to the chaos that New York was, and you’ve acclimated to it by now, with the help of your parents, of course, but Sunoo, on the other hand? He came completely alone, with a singular suitcase in tow. It ignited a sense of protectiveness towards him. The same way it was when you were younger.

Sunoo was always one of the more smaller and younger children in the kindergarten, but that only made him more loved by the teachers and other caretakers. Memories resurfaced of how everyone would coo whenever Sunoo showed his signature smile, silently wishing they had a kid as endearing as Sunoo. They’d bring extra just for him, and Sunoo, being the sweet kid he was, basked in all of it blissfully.

The rest of the older kids didn’t like how Sunoo hogged all the adult’s attention, so they would constantly pick at him during play time, behind the knowledge of the teachers. Since you were a year older and much taller than Sunoo then, you always felt the instinctive need to step in and protect him from all of it, even getting sucker punched in the face for him one time. You chuckle at the distinct memory of Sunoo crying in the sidelines whilst you laid on the mat, a comically large bandage plastered on your cheek.

“What’s so funny?” Sunoo sticks his head out from the cupboard, eyeing your figure on the couch.

“I’m laughing at the fact that you at least have a couch.” You pat the space next to you.

“Hey, you can’t judge. I just moved here, and I don’t know where anything is anymore.” He says this as he pours room-temperature orange juice into plastic cups. “Happy birthday to me.” He sighs, handing you one.

“This is actually really sad.” You take a single sip out of the clear cup before setting it down on the arm of Sunoo’s sofa that was more like a loveseat if anything. “And I’m not just talking about the orange juice.”

“At least I’m not alone!”

“Why’d you move here anyway? I’m sure there’s better places than big ole overpriced New York.” You bring up a leg to get comfortable, and Sunoo does the same, his knee lightly grazing yours in the process.

“You wouldn’t wanna hear it.” He sighs.

“No, tell me!”

“It’s stupid.”

“I won’t judge. Pinky promise.” You bring your pinky rings towards his, locking them.

“I actually moved here for you.” He says it so softly that you thought you had misheard.

“Sorry, I think I misheard.”

“Nah, I think you heard correctly.” He bends down to grab a forkful of noodles, the one he bought yesterday, and moans gleefully at the bundles of flavour exploding in his mouth, “Woah. I think this might be my new favourite ramen.”

“Wait, you’re not being serious, are you?” Sunoo shakes his head at you, his cheeks blowing up as noodles enter his mouth, strand by strand. “Are you stupid?” You completely drop the smile you had been sporting just a minute ago, beyond baffled by Sunoo’s lack of critical thinking.

“Gosh, Sunoo! What would you have done if I hadn’t run into you last night? What if I already moved to a different state? A different country even?!”

“My mom is still in contact with yours, so I’m pretty sure I would’ve ended up at your front door anyway." He nonchalantly answers, shrugging his shoulders the way he always does.

You’ve completely forgotten how Sunoo was always the free spirit in your dynamic, doing anything and everything he wanted without ever thinking about the after. He always downplayed the severity of the consequences, only thinking about the moment and living in it blissfully.

Just a few days prior to your drift apart, Sunoo had dragged you out of your 6th grade classroom just before recess ended and towards the outdoor basketball court. A little mat had been planted on the grass, with what you could recognise as Sunoo’s lunch box set neatly on top.

He had asked you to skip class with him, a kind of celebration on the last day of school. Thanks to him, you were absolutely horrified to come home that day, while him, on the other hand, was not the slightest bit concerned.

“Why? Just why? We haven’t talked for, what, 6 years? And suddenly you move 13 hours away from home to be in the same city that I am?” You were fuming, and for a reason you weren’t too sure about yourself.

Maybe it was the knowledge that he had been thinking about you even after your drift apart, while you were not. Maybe it was the guilt of being the one to instigate the drift in the first place, but he still made his way towards you.

“I’m not too sure either.” He places the chopsticks on the makeshift coffee table. “But at least you’re here, and I’m not alone on my birthday.” He offers you a cheeky grin, one that reaches his eyes, and it almost instantly gives you whiplash.

“You’re driving me crazy here, Sunoo.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge and… it’s still my birthday, ya’know.” He pouts, cocking his head to the side in an attempt to soothe your bubbling anger with his biggest weapon — his face. “Can you stop being your practical self for just a second?” His tone was light, and his eyes were pleading.

He probably still remembered your weakness for pretty faces, and was taking advantage of that at the most convenient of times.

Damn Sunoo and damn pretty privilege.

—

After Sunoo’s semi-successful birthday party—his words, not yours—he’s been sticking to you like glue. He practically lives in your apartment with how much time he spends there. Even when you’re out for classes or errands, he'll take it upon himself to make himself feel at home. You practically spent every second of every day with him, just like it used to be when you were younger.

Your mother was overly ecstatic to find out that you had rekindled your friendship with Sunoo — almost so ecstatic in fact that it alarmed you just a tad bit, scared that she might try to set you up with her best friend’s only son.

She had even suggested that the both of you live together to save costs, she says. You weren’t entirely sold on that fact, seeing as you still wanted your semblance of privacy and freedom in your own home, but with the rising rent prices these days, it wasn’t really a choice now, was it?

“My mother says we should move in together.” You say this over a plate of scrambled eggs, one that Sunoo had so graciously offered to cook.

“I’m sorry?” Sunoo chokes on his cup of black tea.

“I mean, our dynamic is pretty good. You finish things that I don’t. I say it’s a pretty good match.”

Over the course of the last few months that you’ve been on-off living with Sunoo, you learned that he has a habit of picking up things that you’ve left aside to be forgotten. One instance of this was when you found your incomplete knitting project in Sunoo’s more nimble hands, working away while on his spot on your couch.

He explained that seeing things unfinished was a big pet peeve of his, and it usually works in your favour anyway.

“Yeah, but what about my apartment?”

“You say that as if you don’t basically already live here.” You pick up a piece of egg with your fork to bring it to your mouth.

“I guess, yeah, but..." His words trail off. “Never mind.”

“But what, Sun?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, taking a big gulp of his tea before setting the cup back down onto your wooden table, the one Sunoo had picked alongside some other furniture pieces that now scattered your flat.

“You better give up that act now because you know how stubborn I can get.” You peg the fork at him in a faux effort to assert intimidation. Not that you could be any more intimidating with your furrowed eyebrows and grim expression.

“It’s just...”

“Just?”

Sunoo ultimately sighs, picking up his plate to bring to the sink and turning his back towards you. “I would love to live together, really." He starts off. “But what if you bring other guys over? I don’t think I could handle that.”

“That’s it? You’re flattering me by even thinking I can pull guys.” You laugh as you make your way towards Sunoo with an empty plate in your hands. “Sun, there’s nothing to worry about, but I’ll make sure to let you know beforehand if I ever do.”

“That’s not what I was implying.” Sunoo keeps his voice low and whisper-like, almost like he doesn’t want you to hear, but you do anyway.

“Okay, then what do you mean?”

“I’m saying that I think I like you.” He takes a deep breath, finding it hard to formulate words from his thoughts. “I... I just... When we were 13, when we started drifting apart, I felt so lost and confused. I didn’t want to be like those movie cliches, losing my best friend because of high school or whatever.” He doesn’t look up from the dishes in front of him; instead, he focuses on mindlessly scrubbing the mug.

“I followed you here because, even after six long years, you were still my number one. I missed your presence. I always wondered when you would contact me again, but that never happened. I guess I was also too scared to talk to you first, so that’s that.” He continues. “I don’t want to burden you with my feelings any more than they already are, and if we officially, actually lived together, I don’t think my heart could handle all that.”

To say you were speechless was an understatement. You stared at him long enough to see dots, and yet you couldn’t think of anything to say.

Sunoo liked you. The little boy from kindergarten that you promised to protect liked you. Your best friend up until you were 13 liked you?

“Sun...” You start off but can never seem to find a proper end to your sentence.

“You don’t have to answer me right now. Or, as a matter of fact, you don’t even have to accept it. I just thought you should know since you proposed we live together.” He washes the foam away, setting the clean dishes on the drying rack. “I’ll take my leave now.” He smiles at you, and by the time the door closes behind him, you’re still standing frozen.

You don’t know what to do with this information. Yeah, Sunoo was cute, and you had a soft spot for him, but that doesn’t mean you like him. He grew up well, but that doesn’t mean you no longer saw him as the boy you needed to protect from the world. It was all a clash of thoughts, really.

—

A week had gone by since you texted Sunoo back, saying that you needed space to think. But you weren’t really using the time to think at all; you were actually doing quite well at doing the exact opposite.

“Chae, come on! That’s cheating!” You yell, aggressively pressing away at the console for your Omni-Man to dodge Kung Lao’s wrath.

“No, you just suck.” Chae sticks her tongue out at you. And after a few moments of tense silence, “Aaaand, K.O!” She cheers in your face while you pan at the bold K.O. letterings on the screen in admission of defeat.

“I’ll beat you next time.”

“Oh baby, there won’t be a next time until you sort out whatever it is you’re worrying about first.” She takes the console from your hands and sets it back in its original place under the divider of her TV set. “Now, talk to me.” She says this as she takes a seat beside you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yeah, sure, as if you're coming here at 1 a.m. on a Wednesday night, even when you have classes tomorrow, is because of nothing.”

“I just couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”

“I’m going to go bald from all the stress you’re giving me.” She tugs harshly at her shoulder-length hair. “See this?!”

Your laugh echoes in Chaewon’s humble apartment, which overlooks the entirety of New York with the perfect view — one that her life as a social media influencer is able to afford. At times like these, you felt like you were her sugar baby, leeching off her big-time success like the broke college student you are.

“You’re being overly dramatic.”

"Yeah, and sometimes I wish you were more like me. Give me the damn drama!” She drapes herself all over you, head resting on your bare legs.

“Okay, fine!”

“Good.” She finally grins, taking a bag of popcorn from the table and tossing it into her mouth one by one, occasionally offering one to you.

“You remember Sunoo?”

“The one you cried about when you first met me?”

“I wasn’t crying!”

“Yeah, sure you weren’t.” She grimaces at you.

“Okay, but that was when I was 14, so it doesn’t count.”

“Whatever, whatever. Just continue!” Chaewon switches her position to comfortably sit face-to-face with you, her eyes wide and full of anticipation.

“A few months ago, I met him at the supermarket, the one you tell me to never go to.”

“What?! And you’re only telling me this now?!” Her voice was piercing, and it made your ears almost bleed onto her velvet-carpeted floor. Judging from her reaction, she was probably more concerned about the fact that you went to the only supermarket in the city she told you not to ever step foot into, rather than not having told her about your meeting with Sunoo there.

“Just let me finish, yeah?” Chaewon quips out a small apology before you continue, “And after that, we started hanging out here and there, ya'know, the whole old childhood friends shebang. It was great, honestly. He’s great company, and as you said, I was socialising with other people!”

“But?”

“How’d you know there’s a ‘but’?”

“There is always a ‘but’, my dear Y/n.”

You clear your throat. “He confessed to me just a week ago, after I had proposed to live together, ya'know, to save on costs.”

“You, what now?”

“Not everyone is as rich as you are, Chae; we grass-rooted people need to save money somehow.”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Ugh, it’s stupid, I know! But my mother suggested it, and I was like, ‘Oh, that’s a good idea!’” At this point, the bag of popcorn lays haphazardly on the floor, forgotten as you contemplate all your decisions with Chaewon clinging onto your side, koala style.

“Do you like him back?”

“I haven’t really thought about it before then.” You honestly say, “He has always just been ‘the younger boy who needs protecting’ to me.”

“He’s his own grown person now, Y/n.” She reminds you.

“I know. I just think he’s cute, is all.”

“How about this? You give him a chance to try and swoon you over; if it doesn’t work out, then you guys can pretend as if nothing ever happened!” She claps her hands together, as if she had just won a Nobel Prize for solving global warming. “You’re killing two birds with one stone!”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying is supposed to work.”

"Oh, who gives a fuck? YOLO.”

—

Chaewon’s advice to just yolo the fuck out of everything sticks to you more than you’d like to admit. It echoes in your mind when you’re taking the subway all the way to Sunoo’s apartment, echoes even louder as you stand in front of his door, and echoes almost deafeningly as you knock twice on it.

In about half a heartbeat, Sunoo opens his door with an urgency you could barely register in your haze of emotions. You felt bad after having practically ghosted him for a week straight after his confession, and even worse now that you could tell he was losing sleep over it. His hair was tousled into a mess that made it seem as if he had just gotten out of bed, even if it was already 3 p.m.

“Hey.” You greet, your lips pursed into a tight smile.

“Hey.” He greets her back.

“Can I come in? Or, is it a bad time? I’m not really too sure why I came in the first place.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come in.” He steps aside to make space for you to enter his home.

The last time you’ve been here was the night after you first met him — the day of his birthday. It’s less barren than you remembered, with pops of colour in random corners that somehow represented his sporadic personality perfectly.

“I see you finally did some decorating.”

“I mean, it’s already been more than a few months since I’ve moved here; it’d be weird if I didn’t.” His voice is groggy and still laced with sleep, but you don’t comment on it, instead sucking in a deep breath.

“I wanted to, um, get back to you.” You play with your fingers, picking at the skin. “And, uh, give you an answer. Well, it’s not really an answer, but you get what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

The both of you still stood just beyond his doorway; the faint playing of the TV in the background didn’t help to ease your racing heart. In your two years of being a young adult, you hadn’t found the opportunity to really sit down and find love, given that school had always been your top priority. So when you find yourself in such situations—not that you ever do—you're rendered a blubbering mess.

You’ve practiced this many times before with Chaewon, but it feels even more nerve-wracking now that the man in all his drowsy glory is standing right in front of you.

“We can try.” You start off. “I mean it as in, you can try courting me or whatever, and if it doesn’t work out, we can pretend as if nothing ever happened.” His lack of reply gives you time to really take a good look at Sunoo, now that the weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You’ve said what you wanted to say.

At an arm's-length distance, Sunoo is the textbook definition of attractive. He’s a head taller than you, has broad shoulders, and has a pretty face. His lips were full, his nose was tall, and his eyes were a golden brown colour. What was not to like about him? You just had to accept that he was no longer the Kim Sunoo from kindergarten. He was no longer the same young Sunoo who constantly needed your help.

“Really? You’d let me court you?” His face is bright with hope, and you nod to it wordlessly. “As in, you’d let me take you out on dates and stuff?”

You can’t help the chuckle that lets out, especially endeared by his enthusiasm. “Yes, Sun.”

—

BONUS!

It has been exactly a year since Sunoo had courted and officially asked you out. It wasn’t hard to fall for him because you already had an inkling that you had unresolved feelings for him anyway. The moving in part went as smoothly as it could, save for the slight mishap with Sunoo’s landlord, but with the help of your mother, everything was resolved soon after.

Sunoo lays peacefully on the sofa, soaking in the sunshine that filters through the blinds. He was practically in heaven right now.

“Kim Sunoo!” Your voice reverberates throughout the entirety of your shared apartment.

“Uh-oh, not the government name.” Sunoo looks up from his phone to see you standing in the hallway, hand tucked under your arms, with an expression that reminded him slightly of the French bulldog he’d seen on his morning walk. “Yes, baby?”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me! You let Luna sleep on the bed after she had her walk?!”

“Oh.”

“Oh!” You mimic him.

“I’m sorry, baby. She looked so sad sleeping on the floor by herself, so I just invited her to the bed.”

“Yeah, now her paw prints are all over the white sheets! Couldn’t you have at least cleaned her before you decided to do that?” As if Luna had heard her parents arguing from inside the room, she waddles out, footsteps padding down on the wooden floor, making it her mission to soothe her parents with just her existence alone.

Luna barks, grabbing both of your attention. You immediately lean down to pick Luna up, cooing at her before glaring at Sunoo, “You better wash the sheets.”

Sunoo stares at the both of you, dumbfounded. He thought he saw Luna smirking at him, so he blinked once and then twice, only for you and your baby to disappear as you walked towards the bathroom, your voice echoing as you continued to baby-talk to Luna.

Even with your overbearing practicality and new spoiled baby to take care of, he’d never regret asking his mom about you that one fateful night.

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

Could you please do some headcanons about Batmans cooking disasters over the years?

Age 5: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

Age 6: He decorates a cookie so badly another kid cries until they throw up

Age 7: He tries to make a PB&J and the countertop is sticky for a week

Age 8: He tries to make Martha's chicken noodle soup but ends up crying on the kitchen floor surrounded by half-chopped vegetables

Age 9: He tries to impress a houseguest by recreating Thomas's mixology tricks (sans alcohol). There's still a stain on the ceiling to this day

Age 10: He makes green eggs. It's not on purpose. He's never even read the book

Age 11: He makes lava in the school cafeteria

Age 12: He tries to make cheese bread by drilling holes into a baguette and filling it with melted nacho cheese

Age 13: He melts a cutting board in the oven

Age 14: He folds a Pop Tart

Age 15: The chocolate-covered bananas he makes for the school bake sale come out looking very very wrong

Age 16: He's asked to drop a home economics class after mistaking refried beans for pumpkin puree in a pie

Age 17: He boils eggs in the carton

Age 18: He makes his entire freshman dorm evacuate after burning his ramen to ash

Age 19: He sculpts a severed hand out of meatloaf and is sent to the university psychologist

Age 20: He tries to bake a cake but doesn't have a cake pan, so he pours the batter right in the oven

Age 21: He tries Thomas's mixology tricks again, this time with alcohol. One of the tricks is flipping it over his head. He ends up losing part of his vision for 3 days

Age 22: He burns water. Harley Quinn is there. She still holds it over his head

Age 23: He packs his first patrol snack as Batman. It's a chocolate bar wrapped in a tortilla. The chocolate melts onto his gloves and he drops the tortilla down a sewer grate

Age 24: He makes an ice cream cookie sandwich to eat while he and Batgirl work on a case, but he's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't notice it melt until Babs points it out

Age 25: He enters the first annual Justice League cook-off and immediately gets banned from ever entering again

Age 26: He tries to comfort little Dickie Grayson by making fried cornbread from a book of Roma comfort recipes. It turns out about as well as you'd expect when you give Bruce Wayne hot oil. Bruce is genuinely bummed out, but Dick says it's the thought that counts

Age 27: Clark delivers a huge hunk of beef from the farm. Instead of waiting for Alfred to come back, Bruce and Dick try to break it down with a power saw

Age 28: Bruce and Dick's latkes are burned so badly they can play floor hockey with them

Age 29: He makes stuffed mushrooms. Badly. Like imagine the worst way you can fuck up a mushroom. It still won't compare to what Bruce did. And it's for a potluck with the West-Allens that Barry won't let him live down

Age 30: Bruce sees Dick struggling to make ravioli and he's like "Let me show you how it's done" before proceeding to make it infinitely worse

Age 31: Bruce sees a hungry Jason Todd and the first thing he does when they return to the manor is make a double-decker bread sandwich. That's bread with two more slices of bread in between

Age 32: Bruce packs Dick and Jason's lunchboxes when Alfred is out of town. They're supposed to include a salad. Instead, Dick gets a whole head of lettuce and Jason's is just a bottle of ranch

Age 33: He makes hot chocolate after patrol... but forgets the chocolate

Age 34: The Manor is too cold, so Bruce tries to warm it up by making Jason's favorite soup. His hands shake the whole time. Suddenly, he's eight years old again, sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by scraps reminding him of his failure

Age 35: Jack and Janet Drake are out of the country again, leaving young Timmy by himself. Bruce decides to bring some dinner over. It's baked perfectly, but it's full of things that shouldn't be anywhere near a casserole dish. They end up ordering takeout and watching old detective movies together

Age 36: Steph walks through how to make waffles. Bruce is standing there, watching closely and taking notes. They still come out looking radioactive

Age 37: Cass asks if they can get smoothies. Bruce says he can make them at home. She gives him a warning look but that's not enough to stop him. Cue Bruce forgetting to put the lid on the blender

Age 38: Jason's first night back at home, Bruce tries to make that soup. It shoots out like a geyser and hits the lights. He's panicking until he hears Jason laugh, and then the soup doesn't matter

Age 39: Damian screws up hummus and he desperately tries to hide it so people won't see him as inadequate at something so basic. Instead of getting upset, Bruce assures him it's okay and offers to fix it. (He doesn't fix it, he just makes it worse)

Age 40: Bruce's birthday happens while he's fake-dead and away from home. He grabs a convenience store cupcake and sticks a single candle on it. Then he closes his eyes, pretends his family is around him, and makes a wish. (The candle droops and sets the hotel sheets on fire)

Age 41: Back at the Manor, he attempts to make lemonade on a particularly hot day. Selina offers to help, but Bruce declines, saying, "How hard can it be?" (Spoiler alert: it's not supposed to be full of seeds)

Age 42: Kate shows him a video of Canadians pouring maple syrup into the snow to make candy, so he gets her to boil the syrup so they can do it together. The problem comes when they can't control the pour and end up with a glob the size of Damian

Age 43: As part of a school project, Bruce and Duke try to deduce the Coca-Cola secret formula. Duke's teacher takes a point off because at the beginning he told her he'd taste the results, but there's no way he's doing that now

Age 44: The family gets together to make a full English breakfast Alfred's birthday. Each person takes a part—Dick has eggs, Jason has the grilled tomatoes, Tim has mushrooms, Duke has the bacon, Steph and Cass are tag-teaming the sausages, Damian just has to open a can of beans, and Bruce needs to put bread in the toaster. It goes South immediately when Damian reaches for his katana instead of the can opener

Age 45: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

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colesluvr · 1 year

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hey! i saw u were taking reqs and was very excited because the ninjago x reader fandom is so small and nobody weites for it that isn’t like 9😭

so i hope you wouldn’t mind writing lloyd garmadon x gn/fem reader who is a normal civilian who befriended him and they had an oblivious best friends to lovers trope headcanons or scenario? sorry if thats way too specific lmao

anyways have a good day, xoxo <3

The Boy Dressed In Green | Lloyd Garmadon x GN Reader

(Part One)

HI ANON!! tysm for requesting, I really hope this is somewhat of what you wanted. I decided to make this into two parts where in part two Lloyd will confess to Y/N. It's just there's so many words here already, I don't want to bored anybody half way, lmao. ENJOY READING! COMMENTS AN REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED! 🫶

M/N = mothers name

F/N = fathers name

This wasn't like you at all.

Ok. That's a lie.

This is you.

The early morning sunlight shines though your closed window curtains, a line of light reflected itself on the floor. Soft snores escaped your lips as you were fast asleep on the bed in your small, roomy bedroom. Blankets and pillows were everywhere and your mouth was gaped open as you snored.

Very slowly your body turned to the side by the edge of the bed. You're fingers twitched as you slowly rolled off. A sudden force of adreniline forced you to wake up as you fell to the floor, a "AH!" escaped your lips as you stood up in a fighting position.

You blew your bang sout of your eyes as you tried to find your alarm clock. It was on your dresser beside your bed, but you know morning eyes?

You're more blinder then a drunk driver at night.

Your eyes soon met the alarm clock and you read the numbers. "6:45..." You whispered to yourself, rubbing your eyes until you paused to think.

"6: 45?!" You cried out, now fully awake as you climbed over your bed and rumaged through your dressers. You grabbed a basic t-shirt and a pair of denium jeans before throwing your top off and struggled to take your pants off as you were trying to take off and put on different clothes at the same time.

"MOOOM!"

Your mother smiled to herself hearing you scream her name from upstairs as she sat on the couch in the living room of your small apartment/house you managed to call home for 16 years.

"YOU TOLD ME YOU'LL WAKE ME UP IN TIME FOR SCHOOL!"

Your mum, M/N, placed her cup of coffee/tea/water on the coffee table and swtiched on the teleivision, scrolling through various of channels to choose.

You ran from your bedroom to the bathroom as your yelled at your mother, who still had a smile on her face as she replied over your cry as you fell to the floor, but quickly got up and ran around upstairs in a panicked state.

"You told me you'll be waking yourself today, hun."

"AND YOU BELEIVED ME?!"

Suddenly, your father stepped out of his bedroom he and your mum shared wearing his suit and tie with black dress pants, ready to drive to work. You were caught off guard by this and yelped as you almost ran into him, but he reacted quickly by lifting you off the ground and twirled around, placing your feet back on the ground as you ran back into the bathroom with your toothbrush in mouth and toothpaste in hand with a cup.

"Watch where your going, sweetheart. Almost made me mess up my beautiful tie work." He pouts, but chuckles hearing your muffled 'SORRY' from the other side of the door.

"My reflexes were so quick, I could be one of those 'Ninja's' you keep talking on and on about, Y/N." Your dad joked and laughed hearing your groan from the bathroom.

His wife's laughter caused him to look down the staircase to see M/N by the end of the railing looking up at her husband. "Believe me, F/N. If you were ever to become a Ninja you'll be in a hospital bed because someone threw your back out."

"It was that one time, M/N. And those kids were ruthless!" Your dad argued as your mum chuckled softly. You finally ran out of the bathroom with a new clothes on, brushed hair, and a pair of fresh clean teeth.

You pushed past your father as he walked down the stairs to give your mum a quick 'good morning' kiss on the lips before going to the kitchen.

You ran back into your room. Grabbed your backpack, stuffed it with your laptop, binders, notebooks, notes and your pencil case. You grabbed your phone charger and phone, running out of your room not even bothering to close the door, make your bed, or turn off your TV/lights.

You ran down the stairs, well more like slid down the railing, and ran into the kitchen to try and find some food. Meanwhile your father was waiting for the water to boil to make his morning coffee. "This is the 3rd time, Y/N." He teased as you grabbed some leftover pizza from the fridge and threw it microwave for 1 min. You bounced your leg as you replied and waited for the food.

"Yeah, I know. I asked mum to wake me up in time but apparently he believes me when I say I'll wake myself up. HAVE EITHER OF YOU MET ME?"

The beeping of the microwave didn't even have time to stop as you opened the door and grabbed the pizza. You kissed your dad on the cheek, and ran to your mum to kiss her cheek as you ran to the front,

With the pizza in your mouth you put on your shoes and unlocked the door. "Uh, hun. I could drive you if you'd like-" "Nope. To much traffic. I'll run. Love you both, cya later! MWAH!"

And in less then two seconds the door was closed and both your parents looked at eahc other. "What are we going to do with them." Your mum joked as your dad shrugged, pouring his water in his cup. "Listen to them when they say they'll wake themselves on time for school?"

M/N looked at her husband with an unamused face before going to wash her plate.

The summer breezed hits your face like a train as you raced the streets to get to school. Normally it takes you 15 mins to get to school on wheels, but on foot? Takes you 25 mins at the lastes. Maybe you should have taken your mum's offer driving you. School starts at 7 and it was 6: 58. Not really the best time to leave for school.

You were already out of breath when you made it to the main street of your neighborhood. You passed many other's walking and staring at you with confusion, but some didn't pay much attention.

Your backpack was barely on your shoulder, hell it was only supported on one as you ran. You had to keep pulling it back up as you ran.

The main street was long, so it took you around 10 min's to reach the end where the traffic lights were. The light was green so you had to wait in order to continue running to school. You jogged on the spot, ready to start running once more.

When the light turned red you started to run down the road. You reached the middle and that's when many things for you changed.

A noodle truck not to far down the road was driving at full speed. The only time you saw it was when a horn honked. You looked to the sound to see the truck race it way towards you, not planning on stopping for you.

You felt your stomach drop.

Your legs froze.

Why the fuck am I not moving?! You mentally swore to yourself as the truck got closer.

You felt like a deer in headlights.

Suddenly you heard a voice, possibly telling you to watch out but to you it was incoherent. You felt someone's arm wrap around your waist as you were dragged to the ground on the sidewalk.

It was all a blur. Who the heck- What just happened?

You watched as the truck drove off, two figures on the top of it that wore blue and red outfits, and then another vechile zoomed by leaving a dust trail. An aircraft flew above, following the run-a-way truck.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

You composed yourself long enough to look up at your savor. Your eyes made eye contact with green eyes. Bright, neon green eyes. The rest of the person's face was covered by a green mask.

Wait a second-

"Lloyd? Lloyd, are you there?" A voice was heard but it was only loud enough for the two to hear.

"Kai? Yeah, yeah. I'm here."

Kai? You thought as the boy dressed in green stood up.

"Are you alright?" He asked again, ignoring his teammates shouting over his com, and this time you answered hesitantly. "I-uh. Yeah, yeah. I'm good." You stood to your feet, wiping the dirt off your clothes. To th best of your ability.

"You're-You're the Green Ninja....I was just saved by the Green fucking Ninja!" You were astonhised. You'd never thought in forever you would meet your favorite Ninja of the team.

"Omg- I- This is not how I- I mean you just saved my life- I thought I would like meet you in a different way- I don't mean that in a weird way- I mean I don't know- I'm not weird- You're weird. Fuck-"

"Hey." The Ninja placed a hand on your shouler, and your eyes once again met his green eyes that stared deep into your's. "As long as your alright, I'm always glad to meet a fan."

You smiled to yourself, 'no fucking way this is actually happening right now' Your thoughts were interuppted by another voice. "Lloyd! We gotta split. Police are here to pick up the Mechanic and once again the Commisioner want's to congratulate us personally. I mean seriously, he does this all the tiem. I mean thank you for the praise, but I just want to go hooome. My feet are sore. I chased after a a truck going full speed, and I'm so tired I could just-"

"Don't worry, Jay. I'll be there in a sec'."

The Blue Ninja, which made you want to squeal your entire lungs out, groaned as he walked back to the Ninja group. The Green Ninja, Lloyd, looked back at you. "What's your name?" He smiled under the mask, but the way he sounded made you think he was smiling. "Y/N." You felt your stomach flutter with butterfiles as he pulled his hood down.

"Lloyd."

Ever since that day, you occasionally run into Lloyd every now and then during school lunches at after school. At first you found it out of the ordinary, but now you kinda got used to it. Of course there were some days where he isn't there but that never bothered you too much.

You've know Lloyd for 2 months now and your life has been getting secreter by the second. Your parents asked where you've been after school and why you come home later then usual but you just say you were studying with friends.....of course one of your friends being the legendary Green Ninja, but lets not go into any detail about who's friends with who.

It wasn't only your family questioning you, Lloyd had his own problems with the Ninja about you. They didn't know anything about you and because Lloyd's hanging out with you alot they're worried he'll get you hurt or himself hurt. Who know's what you will do to him, you could be a villain. Or worse, you could just be using him to get what you want.

No one can be for sure.

He told his friends you seem like a nice person, and if he catches you doing something sketchy he'll say something right away. Even Master Wu questioned Lloyd's actions but know's he knows what Lloyd is doing when making new friends.

You never actually met any of the other Ninja, other then hearing facts from your other friends who are fans of them, but Lloyd told you stories nobody but he knows about and it leaves you both laughing your asses off for days.

You never knew your savor's of Ninjago could be this funny, They all seem so focused and serious under their masks but once you take the mask off, it's like there entierly new people. Espicially Lloyd.

He was most childish of the group, matching Jay's energy, but you notice he's been acting more himself when he's around you. He talks more, laughs more, shares things with you. You liked it.

5 months now went by, and over the months you were finally able to meet the Ninja team. They grew closer to you over time, but it did take some time for them to fully earn your trust, But they still talked and asked how your day's been going.

Master Wu once time assumed you and Lloyd were both dating, causing you both to blush a deep shade of red and the others to snicker. He aplogized for the miscommunication and no body spoke of that again.

That was now weeks ago.

You and Lloyd have know each other for 8 months now, and have also gotten much closer.

Until one evening, when Lloyd and Kai had a chance to talk. At first it was a normal bro to bro conversation until it went quiet, and Lloyd was unsure if this was the great time to bring this up.

Kai noticed, and seriously couldn't help but know the deets. He knows it's about you and him, he can see it by the way Lloyd reacts when the others talk about you.

"How's Y/N been, Lloyd? Haven't seen them in a while." Cole asked and Lloyd began to stummer, "I-uh. They-They're okay. I-I saw them couple days ago, yeah, the seem fine." Lloyd replied and ran, causing Cole to ask the others if they know if something happened between Lloyd and you.

They all said they didn't know, but Kai had a gut feeling something deeper was going down then just 'something happened'. He's been in this situation with other people before, so he's pretty skilled with the 'relationship' slopes. Even if he does get rejected or does the rejecting.

"This is about Y/N, ain't it?" Kai whispered over to Lloyd as the Green Ninja fiddled with his thumbs while the TV was playing. Kai had a grin on his face as he ate his snack while Lloyd started to blush softly and stummer. "I-uh- Is-Is what about Y-Y/N?"

"This, dude!" Kai laughed, motioning Lloyd's actions. "You're nervousness, shyness, this 'blushyness?' and the way you act when people even mention their name!"

Lloyd blushed a deeper shade of red as he tired to his hismelf under his mask and the pillows on the couch. "Ah, younge love. WHo hasn't been through it before...besides Lloyd." Kai spoke aloud to nobody, but still it caused Lloyd to grumble as he pulled his knees to his chest.

"I just..I feel...more happy when I'm around them. I mean, of course you guys makes me happy, but Y/N just makes me feel...happy?" Lloyd paused to think before groaning in embarrassment, "GAH! This is too confusing!"

Kai sighed, putting his feet down from the table, turned the TV off, put his snack to the side and stood to his feet. He stood in front of Lloyd and stayed like that for a couple of seconds.

"What?" Lloyd muffled voice was heard from under his mask and Kai pulled him up, still sitting on the couch, and pulled his mask down.

"I'm about to teach you a few things about asking somebody to be with them!"

Lloyd stared at him with a confused look...Moments of silence went by and Kai spoke embarrassingly,

"Okay. Yeah, there was a better way to phrase that but you know what I mean. When we're done, you'll be The Master of Flirting instead of Of The Master of Energy-"

"Okay. Stop talking. This is embarrassing enough already, let's just get this over with." Lloyd's face showed annoyance but on the inside he was bouncing all over the place.

This will end horribly. Lloyd told himself as Kai followed him to the courtyard with his hands behind his head.

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avoxrising · 6 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 17

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

This is kind of Chapter 16 part 2 so apologies that it’s short!

Content Warnings - Panic Attack, mention of previous rape, descriptions of gore, self harm

You decide to visit Peeta again. If anyone was going to tell you what you wanted to know, it would be him. You told Haymitch and Boggs that you wanted to visit him to tell him about the wedding in the hopes that it would cheer him up. They agreed and they let you inside.

“Peeta!” you grin as you enter his room. The blond looks up at you surprised.

“I didn’t think you were going to come back,” he states, sadness in his eyes.

“Well Peeta,” you reply. “I have lots to share with you, and something you can share with me.”

“Ok…” he hesitantly agrees.

“Firstly,” you start. “Finnick and I agreed to get fake married in District 13 to make people happy. People are sad right now so we thought it was a good idea.”

“Oh,” he states, taking the information in.

“Second,” you continue, “I talked to Haymitch and Boggs and they’ve agreed to let you decorate our wedding cake!”

“You want me to decorate your cake?” he asks. “I’d be honored.”

“Ok now I need your help on something,” you tell him, hoping Boggs and Haymitch won’t notice what you are doing and pull you out of there.

“I don’t trust the people here,” you explain. “But I trust you. The capital erased some of my memories and I’m trying to figure out what I’m forgetting. Apparently something happened on my victory tour that was very bad but nobody will tell me. Do you know what they are talking about?”

Peeta nods his head, sadness filling his eyes.

“Johanna told me in the arena,” he responds. “You… you were raped by a man in the capital; some important guy I think. You killed him during it and that’s why the capital hates you. After that you didn’t talk to anyone besides Finnick for five years and didn’t let anyone touch you. It’s why the capital calls you Feral and everyone is afraid of you.”

You can faintly hear Boggs enter the room but you’re frozen in place. The memories were starting to come back to you; the feeling of his hands on you, gouging out his eyes…

Boggs is guiding you out of the room but suddenly you don’t want him touching you. You don’t want anyone touching you.

“Don’t touch me,” you growl as you shrug his arm off of you. He goes to say something into his radio and you take the chance to bolt away from him and everyone else near Peeta’s room.

Shouts for you are ignored as you run down the halls of District 13. You make turn after turn, hoping to lose the people chasing you and yourself deep in the bunker.

When your lungs are burning and you can’t run anymore, you climb into a supply closet and shut the door. You need time away from people. They’re probably chasing you to hunt you down. You’re dangerous.

A worried Haymitch comes flying into the training room where Finnick is throwing around his trident.

“Finnick!” he shouts, out of breath. “We need you on deck 9 now.”

Haymitch had never seen the young man move so quickly. He instantly dropped his trident and sprinted past the older victor, not even stopping to ask questions.

When Finnick arrived on deck 9, he was greeted by Boggs.

“Is she alright?” he asks worried. “Where is she?”

“I have soldiers trying to figure that out as we speak,” Boggs states. “She visited Peeta and it didn’t go well. He told her about her victory tour and she ran. We were hoping you’d be able to help us find her.”

“Give me some sedatives just in case,” Finnick responds. “Do you know what direction she went in?”

“That way,” Boggs states and the blond runs off in that direction.

It takes two hours and a suggestion from Katniss to check the supply closets for Finnick to find you. The soldiers had opted to secure the surrounding corridors to keep you from moving locations, deciding that you’d be the least likely to hurt anyone if Finnick found you.

“Y/N?” he asks, shining a light into the closet.

“Get away from me!” you growl.

He looks down at your shivering form on the floor of the closet. Your face was wet from crying and your arms were red from you clawing at them.

“Y/N,” he states calmly, causing you to look up at him. “I’m going to sedate you and then take you to my room. You need somewhere to process this and a supply closet isn’t safe.”

You shake your head at him, knowing he’s right but not wanting to go anywhere. He crouches down towards you with his hands out in front of them. He has a small syringe in one containing what looks like sedative from the hospital.

“You’ll be in my room when you wake up,” he tells you. “I won’t let them take you anywhere. Do you understand?”

You give him a slight nod before you close your eyes, allowing him to sedate you and carry you off.

Taglist:

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #finnick #mockingjay #the feral one

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spidernuggets · 3 months

Note

Hey, I've been reading your stuff for a while and I was wondering if I could request number 16 from the quote prompt list. Once again I think this will be great as usual <3

Jason Todd x Reader

Notes: HBOTitans!Jason Todd based while he was still Robin

"Why do you care? You could've just walked away"

You and Jason never got along really well. You hated his guts but at the same time, you didn't.

Ever since you joined the Titans, you and Jason began this extremely competitive rivalry. Who can knock the other one fastest during sparring. Who can come up with a better strategy. Christ, who can get to the bathroom the first in the morning.

You don't really know when this started. You knew Jason had a tendency to judge people before he got to know them. But you wanted to be his friend when you first met.

And you couldn't doubt that Jason was real attractive. Even when he was trying to one up you in everything, you couldn't help but admire how skilled he was.

Sure, you'd somehow show your appreciation to his abilities, but it's been over a year, and he still hates you. So you hate him, too. You don't know why he hates you. You didn't do anything wrong to him when you joined, but sometimes these things happen. And you told yourself not to let it get to you, but he can be so aggravating sometimes, and you hate that you don't truly hate him as much as he may hate you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, and Jason and Y/N, you two will be paired together to scout the area for the wanted convicts." Dick demands during the current debriefing.

A mishap occurred in Gotham Prison, and a load of felons and criminals escaped, scurrying all over Gotham. Dick gathered a meeting with the other Titans to round up these convicts and return them to the prison.

"Hell no," Jason said. "Pair them with Rachel. I'll go with Gar or- or anyone!"

"Love ya too," you bite back sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Dick sighs in annoyance. "Listen, the two of you need to get along. These are just a couple of convicts. You'll be fine. You'll improve with your training if you learn how to fight together without fighting each other! We're not switching pairs, and that's that." He says, walking out of the room before Jason could complain again, the other members following suit, leaving you and Jason remaining in the debriefing room.

"Hey. Stay out of my way, or I'll throw you in Gotham Prison with the other convicts," Jason threatens.

You threw your hands up in defence. "Ooh, so scary. Don't clip a wing out there, birdie," you snarl as Jason storms out.

You rolled your eyes. Not even an hour into patrol, and Jason ran off on his own.

"Holy shit," you whisper, looking at the dark, isolated streets below.

A group of criminals dressed in prison uniforms, about 12, were spread across the gloomy streets, drinking booze that the most likely have already stolen.

Suddenly, a fight breaks out. You squinted your eyes and saw a familiar red and green figure, kicking some of their asses.

"For crying out loud, is this guy allergic to a plan or something. One of them could literally pull out a flamethrower from out his ass." You complain to yourself, watching Jason in action.

You can hear his cocky voice in the back of your head tell you that you're overthinking this, followed by some pet name he always gives you.

Impressively, Jason seemed to have it under control. You wanted to either sit back and watch or simpmy walk away. But he's still one guy against twelve. And he's still your teammate.

"For fuck- UGH," you groaned, jumping after him, joining the fight.

"Late to the party, sweetheart," he says, earning a scoff from you.

Most convicts seemed inhumanly buff, others quite lanky, but still able to pack a punch.

Luckily, both you and Jason were well trained and already knocked out almost all of the men.

"I got seven down!" Jason remarks, panting as he punches out another guy. "Might wanna catch up, babe," he yells over to you.

"Would you shut up for 5 minutes, Robin!" You yell back, kicking the ass of another criminal, marking your 4th knockout. "You know, you don't have to be an asshole about everything!" You bark, turning to face him. "You're better than me, okay?! Is that what you wanted to hear? Well, there you go!"

Jason stood a distance from you, speechless. He joked around many times to make you say that he was better than you. But he didn't mean it. He always thought you were better than him. You were barely trained when you first joined, and yet you fought so well. He admitted to himself that you were badass and that he wanted to be as a fast of a learner as you.

You scanned around the area, out of breath after your quick rant. But then you pause. "Eleven," you whisper.

Jason looks up at you. "What?" He asks.

"Eleven. There's- There's eleven here. There were twelve convicts. Where's the last guy??" You say, beginning to panic.

Jason's eyes widen. "Behind you!" He screams. You swiftly turn, and you're met with a tall, very muscular and gruff man, charging towards you. He runs past you, heading towards Jason.

With his keen reflexes, Jason throws one of his Rs, aiming for the leg. It lands perfectly as the man screams in agony, falling over. Jason stabs another R blade into the other leg, proceeding to kick him in the face with his boot, knocking him out completely.

"Shit," Jason sighs, looking around at the scene. Before he was about to link in with the others through the comms, he notices you in the distance just standing there, your back facing him.

"S/n?" He calls out, but you don't reply. He sees your arms move in front of you, and his eyebrow raises in confusion.

Your arms fall limp to your sides, and in one hand, you hold a long, bloody knife.

"S/N!" Jason yells out, running towards you, holding onto you tightly before you could fall to the ground.

Jason stutters out a string of curses, trying to apply pressure to your wound. "You're- You're gonna be okay, Y/n... Okay? I- I already called Dick and the others, they'll be here, just- just stay awake! You can do that, yeah? You're so strong, just stay awake, please!" He begs, his clothes drenching in your blood.

"I.. I can't, Jay," you weakly whisper out, muffled by your painful whimpers. Your eyes started to get heavy, and all the noise began to fade. All you could hear were the other Titans running up to you and Jason's voice yelling at you to stay awake.

You thought you were dead. You felt dead. But your eyes open to a very bright light. You groan, blinking away the burning sensation in your eyes.

"Sweetheart? Shit, okay, you're okay," a voice says in relief.

As your vision unblurs, you can make out Jason's face hovering over yours.

You groan something to him, and he repeats a few confused "what? What did you say?"

"Jesus, take this thing off me," you repeat, referring to the oxygen mask on your face. Jason complies, removing the mask and gently rubbing your face, smoothing out the red dents that the mask left on your skin.

"Shit, how long was I out for?" You ask.

"Two days," Jason replies, sitting in the seat beside your bed.

"My everywhere hurts, and I can't feel anything at the same time," your voice was rasp, and your eyes were tired.

"I could've handled them myself, babe. What were you even thinking?" He said, slightly annoyed but didn't want to stress you in your current state.

"That you were my teammate, and that it was my job to help you," you weakly reply back.

Jason just stares back at you. "Why do you care? You could've just walked away."

You let out a dry laugh. "That was my initial thought. Look, I know you hate me, but at least give me some credit here."

He looks at you dumbfounded. "I don't... I don't hate you.." He admits.

You face slightly scrunches up. "What? I... Then why are you always trying to beat me in everything? I tried- I wanted to be your friend but- but you just..."

"You started it!" He childishly says back. "You kept showing off at how much better you were at fighting than me ever since you got here."

Your face softens. "I just... I just wanted to impress you," you quietly tell him. "I saw you sparring with Gar while you were blindfolded. You were so amazing, and- and I just wanted to be like you," you confessed. "I don't hate you either."

Jason's shoulders slumped. All this time, he thought you were trying to show that you were better than him. But you were trying to impress him? You were admiring him?

He understands the situation if Dick were in his place. Hell, everyone looked up and wanted to be like Dick. Never in his life has someone told him that they wanted to be like him. To be like Jason Todd.

Jason sighs. "I'm sorry, babe." He says, his head hanging low.

You lightly shook your head. "Nah, it's okay. But please, kill it with the pet names."

Jason laughs. "Why? Careful, sweetheart, you might make yourself look like you like like me," he teases, trying to get a reaction out of you.

But you only turn your head away from him, not answering. You thought this was a subtle reaction, but it got Jason raising his brows and leaning forward.

"Do you actually?" He asks genuinely.

You shook your head. "Forget about it. It was just a thing." You try to push away the topic.

He pauses. "Would it just be a thing if I said I felt the same?" He carefully asks.

Your head faces him, eyebrows knit together. "What-"

You're quickly interrupted as Jason stands from his chair, hovering over you and placing his lips against yours, one hand cradling your fave as the other holds him up above you.

You were too tired and weak to raise your hands to his neck, but strong enough to kiss him back, your lips perfectly synchronising with his.

I feel like i made that ending a little rushed, but the scenario was playing on repeat in my head and really wanted to add it in!!!

ALSO, it really makes my day knowing that you've been reading my stuff for a while, Anon!!! Hope u enjoyed your requested fic!!! 🙏🫶

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scribblewrites · 2 months

Text

Just be with me

Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader hurt/comfort

this is my first time writing so don’t expect much

this is very much just me projecting lol. Reader feels like crap, Bakugou comforts them. He might be a bit ooc

TW: mentions of SH, Reader has anxiety/breakdown and is overall feeling bad

take care of yourselves! ♥

— Bakugou sat in the common area as the smell of the class's dinner (now slightly burnt thanks to Kaminari setting the oven wrong) filled the air. He disinterestedly scrolled his phone, occasionally listening to the extras complaining about how hard Aizawa sensei had pushed them in training. A scoff was thrown in here and there from Bakugou’s place on the couch.

Motioning to get up and start yelling at Kaminari for ruining dinner, Bakugou stopped as his phone went off with a flurry of texts. Grunting, he opened his phone again

“Tch, what the hell is it now”

——————————Y/N——————————

7:14 PM -hey

7:14 PM-can you come to my dorm?

7:16 PM -soon, please

He stared at his phone, worry slowly forming on his face. Now that he thought about it, y/n hadn’t joined the rest of the extras after class like they normally do. They hadn’t been roaming the kitchen impatiently waiting for dinner like normal either. Suddenly their absence became increasingly prevalent in his mind. He noticed a slight change in their behavior the past few days but chalked it up to the stress of upcoming exams the whole class was experiencing.

“I’ll be back, gotta grab somethin’ from my room” Bakugou hurriedly walked towards the elevators before anyone could say something.

—Reader’s POV—

You were sitting crisscross on your bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of you desperately trying to control your breathing. The stupid overwhelming feeling in your chest sat heavy as you silently willed tears, sobs, anything to escape. Anxiety weighed you down the past couple of days. Ignoring it didn't work like you hoped, resulting now in the panic and shame suffocating you.

What the hell is wrong with me?

The sting of your outer thighs began to feel more and more intense. They were scratched to hell, red marks swelling slightly in the tracks of your nails. Small cuts were littered among the scratches. Not deep enough to cause any real damage or scar, but enough to now sit as an ugly reminder of your outburst mere minutes ago.

“Ughh, why did I text him” you groaned, pressing your palms into your eyes and laying back.

It’s stupid. You just didn’t want to be alone now. it hasn’t been this bad in months, shit maybe years. Over the weekend it got progressively worse and now you’re stuck, feeling somewhere in between numbness and regret.

knock knock

The harshness of the fist on your door gave away who was there. Slowly sitting up and letting out a shaky sigh you called him in.

“It’s open.” the door quickly swung open and shut as Bakugou stormed towards you.

“What the hell is up with your ominous ass texts? You’ve been actin’ weird all day and it’s throwing me off” It only took him a few strides to cross over in front of your bed.

He looked you up and down, finally analyzing your face after his rough entrance. His face shifted slightly after he saw the dullness in your eyes and the state of your legs. The normal disinterested look on his face remained, but you didn’t miss the subtle softening in his eyebrows or the concern growing in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“hey, too you too Katsuki” The half-hearted jab fell weakly from your lips.

“Shit. Um, I could-- do you want me to"

“No.” you interrupted his awkward attempt at figuring out what to do. “I don’t want you to do anything. Last thing I need right now is someone judging me or trying to fix this.”

You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to keep your voice level as you got your request out.

“just— just be with me.”

He paused briefly, clearly searching for a response. "Tch, yeah…I can do that.”

He shuffled a bit, pulling his hands out of his pockets and crossing towards you. A sigh of relief left you as you realized he wouldn’t judge you. He didn’t try and spew fake comfort, instead, he shoved you to make room on the bed. Reaching for your laptop, he settled in next to you and scrolled through YouTube.

After a few hours of watching dumb reactions and video essays, you melted into his side. At some point, you felt his rough hand lightly rubbing your arm. Sleep was creeping over you as your eyes burned from the bright screen. Picking up your phone, you registered that it was almost 11 pm. Katsuki would’ve normally been asleep hours ago.

“It’s past your bedtime old man” you joked as you shoved the time in his face.

“I’m not the one starting to snore, dumbass” he nudged your side with no real bite to his words.

“Rude!” you chuckled and weakly shoved him back in retaliation. Settling back into his side, sleep was finally winning. Before drifting off, you whispered almost inaudibly,

“Thanks ‘Tsuki”

you began lightly snoring before he responded, his head dipping to softly kiss your head.

“G'night, y/n”

hope y’all enjoyed this! pls leave any feedback, this is my first time writing anything like this and I’d love to improve ♥

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #mha bakugou #mha fic #bakugou katsuki #tw sh related #hurt/comfort #tw self h4rm #gn reader

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punkcheeks34 · 3 months

Text

feelings/ pt 1

eren x reader, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, drunk confession

you knew eren before you knew him. his mom and your mom were the best of friends in highschool, and a friendship was fated from the start. from family barbecues to birthdays, you two were always together. “inseparable” is what carla describes us. eren always scoffed when mom would say we would get married one day. my eyes would brighten at the mention.

eren was always the outsider growing up, the rebel. he grew his hair to his shoulders, didn’t get along with the popular crowd, got an illegal tattoo at 16, and religiously wore band tees. as we got older, i noticed him more and more. we were around each other so often, so close. when his voice got deeper and his arms became toned, i couldn’t help fighting my feelings. to him, we were friends. to me, he was more. i knew he never saw me the way because he slept around. he smoked and wasn’t afraid to break a few laws. hes the personification of the boys your mom will tell you to watch out for, because their mystery is so alluring that you won’t be able to resist, and that in the end, they will break your heart. mom would never see eren in another light though. nothing other than her best friends adorable, sweet child.

as i’m about to fall asleep, my phone buzzes on my bedside table and reach for it quickly.

R u awake

it’s 2 in the morning and i know what he’s been doing.

what’s up eren?

i wait anxiously.

Im sorru it’s so latew but can u pick me up from Jean’s please?

i immediately get up and throw on a zip up hoodie. i grab my keys and hurry out of my window. god, the things i do for this boy.

the first time i felt something for him was 6th grade. for a while, he had been trying to slum it with the popular boys, reiner, jean, flock, and zeke, in our class. it didn’t work. he was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit, but he tried and i watched. i watched him try biking every day after-school with them when i knew he preferred to go skating with me. i watched him try to salvage his failing math grade from constantly attempting to meet the demands of these boys, their constant hangouts that eren didn’t really look forward too, telling me how unfunny he thought their jokes were. i watched eren and the popular boys talk to the popular girls. seeing eren laughing with historian reiss made me fume. who was she to even speak to him? she doesn’t know him like that? she doesn’t know him like i do!

it was all jealousy. historia was beautiful, popular, and i knew eren thought so too, because i would see them drinking slurpees at the quick zip every friday after school. i fumed even more. there were rumors that they had even kissed. stupid me thought and dreamed that maybe he secretly wanted me, and maybe he secretly wanted me to be his first kiss. hearing the rumor crushed me. i was heartbroken, but i could never be mad at eren over some dream that would never come true.

but suddenly eren withdrew. historia and him never hung out on fridays and the popular boys treated eren like he were a plague. jean still spoke to him though, even with their bitter rivalry that he would never tell me stemmed from what. me and him were already attached at the hip by that point, but he stuck by me like glue from then on. i didn’t question it. i didn’t care too because that he wanted to spend time with me, me.

we spent the rest of our middle school and high-school years together. always turning around to make sure the other one was behind. always picking the same classes to take so that we’d be together. always going back to my place after school, sitting on my bed to talk about everything the world has to offer over and over again. i would always help him with math, and he would always defend me against the popular guys that pursued me, warning me that he knew their motives. that they didn’t want me for the right reasons. i understood and i kept away. but they didn’t.

junior year, after our AP physics class, the ringleader of the group, zeke, cornered me in the stairwell and confessed how long he had been wanting me. how much he needed me, and that i should come over sometime with his friends. and from that, i already had an idea that this was what eren was talking about. i tried to get out, but he wouldn’t let me. eren pushed him to the wall and fought him. jean and armin had to pull eren off of him. eren got suspended because he broke zekes nose, and he had to get surgery to fix the damage.

during erens suspension, we spoke.

“i don’t like how the guys are,” he starts, fixing the pink pillow under his head,” they get me so fucking mad.” he’s been staying at my house ever since he got suspended. his parents are mad.

i look up from the book i was reading. “it was only zeke who really pushed it? why are you so pissed about the whole group?”

erens eyebrows furrow. “y/n, they’re guys. i’m a guy, and you’re not. i know how guys like them are!” he suddenly looks uncomfortable. “it’s disgusting.” he mutters, “and i don’t like that zeke wanted you to come over.”

“but still?” i argue, “just because you have something against zeke doesn’t mean you should hate the whole group with a passion. i know they’re obnoxious, but don’t let them get to you.”

“of course i have something against zeke and his friends! he forced you into the corner and told you how bad he wanted to fuck you!”

i cringe at the honesty. “i meant that you’ve hated him since middle school. like.. obsessively hate.”

eren lets out a laugh at the idiocracy. “first of all, i am not obsessed with zeke fritz.” he takes a deep breath like he’s preparing for the finale of a grand speech. “and second of all, he’s always pissed me off.”

“even when you hung out with him and his friends?” i tease.

eren grows silent. “i don’t want to talk about it.” and i dropped the conversation.

i pull into the round-about where jean lives. i’ve had to pick eren up a few times from here, but lately, the only reason he’s been here is to get drunk at jeans college parties. jeans parents are loaded, lawyers who travel for work, which leaves him at home with way too much freedom.

the music is vibrating the ground from here. i wonder when the police are gonna show up to shut down this party for the noise disturbance. i need to find eren, soon. i open the front door and see people leaning on the walls with drinks, talking, joking, some making out. i look away and try to find eren. i don’t see him anywhere.

after scanning the entire first floor, eren jeager is no where to be found. i head towards the stairs and start walking up, hoping to find him upstairs.

where are you? i text.

as i’m walking down the hallway, i hear a familiar voice.

“In here!”

i walk toward the sound of his voice, the last door of the hallway that has the name “jean” written in bright blue letters. i open the door and see the unexpected.

well, not fully unexpected. i see eren, his almost- shoulder length hair pulled back into a bun and his body adorning grey sweatpants and a navy hoodie, who i was expecting to see, laying down on jeans bed, smiling at the ceiling like a weirdo. yep, he’s one drink away from blacking out. but what i didn’t expect to see was historia reiss, sitting at the end of the bed, picking at her split ends and chewing her gum with her mouth open. my stomach turns at the scene, but i force down my feelings.

“hey!” i say. historia turns to me with a look of disappointment on her face and eren lifts his head and laughs drunkly when he sees me.

“uh,” i suddenly become uncomfortable under historias arrogant stare, “sorry i didn’t knock, i’m here to get eren.”

she looks at eren and then looks at me, saying, “okay..” condescendingly and walks into jeans bathroom. she wasn’t wearing any shoes. erens not wearing any either.

“heyyyy,” eren slurs as i walk over to him. “i didn’t know you partied!” he jokes before bursting out laughing

“you texted me. how much did you have to drink?”

he looks dumbfounded at the simple question “what?”

“i said, how much did you have to drink?” i repeat. i can barely hear my own voice over the booming music.

“uhhhhh-,” he replies after a few seconds, “i don’t know.”

“okay, cmon. get up eren. we’re going.”

“yes ma’am.” he says, giving a military salute. surprisingly, he can stand just fine despite how drunk he seems. i make sure he has everything

and we leave jeans house. we walk over to my parked car and i put eren in the backseat incase he pukes all over my dashboard again. i don’t want a repeat of the last time i picked him up.

“there’s a plastic bag in the right pocket if you need to puke, eren, just letting you know.” i mention as i pull out of the round-a- bout.

“okay, mom, thanks” he scoffs.

i pull unto the main road, stopping at the red light.

“so,” i start,” historia, huh?” my voice filling the silence.

“huh, what’re you talking about?” he says in a genuine, drunk confusion. “did something happen”

“i just didn’t know you guys were really friends.” i reply. and i murmur, “obviously more than that though.”

you’re eyes are fixed on the road, but erens eyes are dead fixed on you after that snide comment that he definitely heard.

“yeah,” he rolls his eyes, sarcasm and the presence of alcohol in his tone, “we had so much fun, y/n. you don’t even know.”

i look at him through the dash cam window and he’s staring at me with a smirk and an indepipherable look in his eyes, testing me. i grip the stealing wheel and drive faster. i know he’s joking, but i can’t tell if he’s hinting at the truth or just telling a lie to get a reaction out of me.i just want this conversation i started to be over with.

“uh, so, how’s jean?” i change the conversation.

“what, you like him or something?”

“what! no!” i deny. “i never said that, eren?”

eren leans back into the seat, head resting on the head rest as he looks up. “whatever.”

unlike eren, there’s no alcohol in my system, but i’m feeling bold today. “what do you mean whatever, eren? you think i like jean?”

“uhhh, haven’t you always?” he states like it’s the obvious. “i saw the way he looked at you in art class.”

“just because he looked at me once or twice doesn’t mean i want him to fuck me or something.”

erens eyes narrow and his brows furrow, lifting his head in interest. “what the fuck did you just say?”

“what the fuck are you saying?” i fight back. “i ask you how jean is and you act like i’m begging on my knees for him. god damn.”

now he’s fully attentive, elbows on his knees and leaning in as if he’ll learn more by his upright posture. “i don’t like the idea of you liking jean,” he states, the slurring of his words still audible , “aaand i don’t like the idea of jean liking you.”

my heart races. “why?”

“maybe it’s the same reason you don’t like seeing me with historia.” and suddenly, he sounds sober.

my heart stops. he heard the comment i made under my breath.

“eren, i don’t care who you see.” the lie is evident in my tone, but eren is so drunk that i don’t bother to hide it. “you can hook up with historia for all i care. have fun with mouth herpes.”

“see, this is what i don’t like,” he slurs out, “did it really not bother you when you saw me and historia in the same bed?”

“why would it bother me? we’re just friends.”

“is that what you want to believe?”

“is that what i shouldn’t believe, eren?”

eren sighs and leans back again. “you remember when i hung out with zeke, flock, reiner, and jean like way back?”

“yeah.”

“that entire time. all they talked about is who would get you first. who would be the first to- fuck. fuck!” he slurs “i never wanted to tell you that!”

my mouth is to the floor. “seriously? that is so- why woudlnt you tell me?”

he looks out the window, “because i was scared that if i told you they liked you, you’d like the attention and shit, and then you wouldn’t be mine.”

my heart is beating out of my chest. “my god, you’re so drunk. eren, you’re speaking nonesense.”

“i’ve been in love with you since the 6th grade.”

“eren, stop.” tears brim my eyes. in the morning, when he’s sober and remembers this, he’ll regret his drunken lies and i’ll have to pretend like this drunk, fake confession didn’t mean the world to me.

“i left the digusting group for that. i hated that me and those annoying dogs had something in common, wanting you.”

“you never wanted me, eren!” i snap, “ you would fake a gag every time our moms shipped us together! and what about historia, huh? don’t act like you two haven’t been sleeping together since highschool. oh, and what about mikasa? you and her-”

“i don’t care about them! all i want is you y/n! i thought you already knew how bad i had it for you” he cuts me off.

“fucking lies.”

he grows quiet for a while.

“i pretended they were you everytime,” he admits,” they didn’t turn me on. i had to pretend they were you, ” he leans in, “and honestly? i still do.”

his words send butteflies rushing to your stomach, but you know better. “eren. you’re drunk”

he pulls his hair out of his messy bun and puts his hood on. “drunken. words. are sober. thoughts!” he enunciates before laughing.

we pull into his house driveway.

“i’m sorry for teasing you about me and historia tonight.” he apologies, and i smell beer from his breath. “im really sorry.”

“i thought drunk words were sober thoughts?” you retaliate with hurt in your tone. you didn’t want to argue, but you didn’t want to not stand your ground.

“i just- wanted to make you jealous. im sorry, y/n” he hugs me, arms wrapping around me tightly as he fits his head into the crook of my neck and sniffs. “god, you smell so good..”

“eren.” you warn.

“your perfume. it drives me insane.” he whines and starts peppering kisses down your neck.

you blush and your heart stops before you push him off of you. he stumbles back, having to regain his balance due to the alchohal in his system. he’s drunk, he’s drunk and he’s so fucking drunk.

the look in his eyes are nothing short of hurt. “y/n..”

“we’ll talk in the morning” you breath out. “go sleep this off.”

“i’ve already tried,” he replies as he walks up the stairs to his room, “why do you think i get so drunk all the damn time. seeing historias face sober every weekend makes me remember that she isn’t you.” he gets to the top step and disappears behind the wall.

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren aot #frat #aot #eren yeager #mutual pining #confession #drunk eren #drunk confession #series #pt 1 #eren x you #first post

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jaymadii · 1 year

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ALWAYS [Kakashi Hatake x Male Reader]

You sat at the base of a tree limb, watching as young Naruto sulked at the attention Sakura gave Sasuke. He was throwing a typical tantrum; arms cross, red face, loud voice. All while his peers ignored his antics in favor of the task ahead. You were watching team 7 briefly today per Kakashi’s request, he said be had things to do and you never questioned him too far past that - it wasn’t particularly your business anyways. You had asked the team to do some chakra exercises, Sasuke was watching closely as Sakura demonstrated a technique he was struggling with. She was quite talented in the chakra department for her age.

Naruto was in a tizzy about how close the two were. Sasuke’s obvious disinterest in the young girl clearly wasn’t enough to sooth Naruto’s worries, if anything it seemed to make the boy even angrier. You had been watching this train wreck for a good twenty minutes now; oh, to remember what it was like to have a crush at their age. You remember having a crush on Rin when you were younger, she was so pretty and nice, the whole village had a crush on her - but that eventually fizzled out in favor a more sibling like bond with each other. The real feelings of love didn’t even begin to scratch the surface until you were 14.

It’s embarrassing to think about now; but you had convinced yourself that you were in love with Kakashi, maybe you were in love with him. He was always so calm and collected, and you remember feeling your heart drop to your stomach the first time he took his mask down in front of you - he was beautiful too. You were probably 16 at the time of your confession. He handled it like he handled anything to do with romance - with stuttering words and a red face.

He had let you down gently, saying that the feeling you think you perceive for him is mixed up with the feeling of familiarity you two have with each other - the bond you two formed after having lost everyone else; Rin, Obito, Minteo. Looking back you’re still not sure if that was the case, the way you had felt about Kakashi never matched the way you had felt about anyone else, but it was pointless trying to explain that to him - he made his feeling about you clear. You are family, nothing else.

Even though it was pointless, you still nurtured that flame you had for Kakashi when you were teenagers. As the years dragged on, it got continuously smaller and smaller, but never went out. A part of you was always going to have that feeling of love towards him, even though he would never love you back in the same way.

You had never talked about your confession. After your rejection you simply pretended that it never happened, and Kakashi never brought it up which you were infinitely grateful for. You lazily look over as Naruto jumps up on the tree brach with you, he is strangely quite as he takes a seat next to you.

“Y/N sensei?” You hum, still looking at the boy who looked like he is on the verge of a break down - poor kid. “How do you get so many girls to like you?” Well that’s not the question you were expecting.

“Aren’t you like 10?” You questioned, earning a disgusted scoff from Naruto.

“I AM 12!” Naruto yelled, suddenly all that pity you felt for him was gone. “SOME ADULT YOU ARE, NOT EVEN KNOWING THE AGE OF THE GENIN IN YOUR CARE! HOW OLD ARE YOU? 40?” You kind of wanted to push him off the tree now.

“Listen kid, all I’m saying is that you have plenty of years to worry about relationships. Maybe right now you should worry about the chakra techniques that you and your teammate are butchering.” You retorted, thumping the ankle biter in the middle of his forehead. Naruto tripped back holding his right hand to his head as he looked at you in anger. “Ask Kakashi how to get a girl, would ya?”

“Kakashi sensei is too busy with his head buried in that pervy book to even notice at a real life girl.” He huffed, it was fair - Kakashi has taken a unhealthy liking to romance novels. Wink wink. “But you, seem to have a good looking lady on your arm every time I see you.” Not true. Kind of true. You just so happened to be born with your father’s charm, which is very helpful when trying to find information out from an enemy, you’ve discovered. You just happen to use that gift for flirting also. Flattery gets you everywhere. Everyone likes attention and you just so happen to like giving attention - beside everyone knows you’re not the kind of guy to sleep with just anyone- it’s harmless. You really didn’t want to give that dating advice to a 12 year old kid though. Luckily, you felt another gentle dip in the tree branch you were sitting on - Kakashi.

“Well,” you stood up to stretch, “that’s my que.” you ruffled Naruto’s hair just for giggles, watching him try to shake your hand off his head. “It’s been a pleasure.” you turn your back to the both of them despite Naruto’s protests that your conversation is not over yet.

“Y/N” came Kakashi’s voice, you turned back to him. He spoke softly, uncharacteristic to his usually gruff voice he wore when he was around the kids. He was holding out something for you, a bento wrapped nice and neatly in a navy blue cloth. You hesitated, putting your hand out for it - did he make this? Kakashi hasn’t made you food for a very long time, not since he got his team at least. Which you have to admit, sucked because Kakashi was a great cook and you could barley make rice without the pot boiling over. You had been going out to eat a lot lately. Naruto’s was quietly watching the exchange between you two. “I had extras, and you complained yesterday that Ichiraku was going to be closed today.”

“Thank you, Kakashi.” You responded, taking the food from him, your finger brushed against each other. The bento was heavy, clearly packed to the brim. “I can always count on you for my heath.” You joked, oblivious to the heat brewing under the man’s mask. “I should go now, I have a long mission tomorrow I still need to prepare for.” On that note you disappeared, leaving Kakashi and Naruto alone on the branch.

Naruto stared at Kakashi sensei, a smug little grin slowly forming on his face. He was a perceptive kid when he wanted to be. Just as he was about to open his mouth for a smart remark, Kakashi pushed him off the tree.

—

Not edited because it’s current 12:03am and I have work at 5 edited 3.24.23

#Kakashi #kakshi hatake #male reader #naruto #kakashi hatake x reader #naruto series #Kakashi Hatake x male reader

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greazyfloz · 1 year

Note

Luke walking in on you and Jack doing the deed when he was younger and still is traumatised but uses it for blackmail

Slight Smut w/ Jack Hughes

Trauma

Flashback:

During COVID lockdown, I decided to join the Hughes family as I didn’t really want to spend that long away from my boyfriend. In the beginning we were always hanging out with everyone in the house trying to keep busy so time would pass. Some restrictions were lifted around June, just in time for lake house season so it was nice that the boys could have some friends over or go golfing because they were starting to get at eachothers throats.

One day, Jack and I were lounging by the pool watching his brothers and parents go out for a boat ride when Jack looked over at me. “We should have sex” he says suddenly

“So subtle” I say laughing

“I’m serious, no one is home and we haven’t really been able to in a long time” he says leaning over to my lounge chair kissing my lips.

“There isn’t any sheets on your bed Jack” I say pushing him away reminding him that they are in the wash

“We will find another bed” he says, grabbing my hand.

I roll my eyes as he stands me up and bends don’t so I’d jump on his back up. He piggy backed me up the stairs and into his older brother's room before plopping me down on the bed. “Absolutely not!” I say sitting up from Quinn’s bed.

“He will never know!” he chuckles

“He will seriously beat your ass if he ever does find out you know?!” I say as I take my bikini top off, throwing it to the side.

“Stop worrying” he says, placing a kiss on my lips that soon turns into a makeout session. It gets deeper and deeper as Jack reaches down and pushes my bikini bottoms to the side, entering a finger inside of me pumping it in and out of me as I let out a whimper. He takes his fingers out and lifts me slightly so I am up right on the bed and he crawls on top of me as he reaches back down to continue. I then reach down and massage the growing bulge in his shorts before we hear someone

“OH MY GOD!” we hear Luke yell out. Jack springs himself off of me and I grab my exposed chest. “I- uh- Quinn needs- he asked me-” he says covering his eyes. Jack bends down grabbing my bikini top and throws it over to me. “Forget it, I’ll just tell him-”

“NO” Jack and I both yell at the same time. I quickly cover myself again and Jack looks back at me before saying “No, come here”

“I’d feel more comfortable out here” Luke says in the hall on his way back down the stairs. Jack sprints out the door.

“Where you going? I thought you guys where on the boat?” Jack asks a very traumitized 16 year old boy.

“Yeah but Quinn forgot his sunglasses” he says

“Y/n! Grab Quinn’s sunglasses!” I hear from downstairs so I grab them and come down

“Please don’t tell Quinn” Jack says, “He will beat my ass” he repeats what I told him to his brother.

“Fine” he says grabbing the glasses from my hands, “but you owe me”

It took awhile for Luke to be less awkward with me and especially in summer in a bikini, didn’t make things easier. As time went by Luke would always blackmail Jack to get his way, “I wonder what Quinn would think if I told him about something I saw in his bedroom” he would always say before getting his way.

It was two years later and we were out on the boat with Luke, Quinn, Blanks, and Duker. When Jack and Luke started arguing about something related to wakeboarding.

“I only got to go like twice today” Luke says as we made our way back home

“Okay well maybe next time you will go more” Jack says as he drive the boat

“Why are you in such a hurry to get back?” Luke says tauntingly. I have hear this tone before so I speak up

“Let him go again” I say and Jack gives me a weird look

“See even Y/n wants me to go again” Luke says. Jack doesn’t budge. Jack doesn’t think that Luke would say anything in front of Duker or Blanks because he would be too awkward but he was wrong.

“Quinn, drive the boat” Luke says, and Quinn shakes his head no. “Why are you siding with Jack? He is probably rushing home so he can have sex with Y/n in your bed again”. It went silent and Quinn stares deep into Jack’s back before speaking up

“What the fuck?!” Quinn says, looking at Jack in the rearview mirror then to me.

“It was two years ago Quinn” Jack says almost like he is over this shit. Luke explains what happened and Quinn shakes his head then says “ew”. I look away awkwardly before Blanks and Duker start laughing.

“I mean beat my ass if you want but he’s the one that didn’t tell you for two years” Jack says laughing along with the other two boys. Soon Quinn becomes more annoyed with Luke than Jack and I.

“That backfired” Jack says to Luke as we all make our way off the boat

“Yeah, well wait till I tell mom and dad” Luke says

#jack hughes #nhl writing #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey imagines

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toournextadventure · 1 year

Text

everyone but her pt.16

Summary: Your birthday and graduation roll around at the same time. Despite your best efforts, Wednesday still finds out about your plans for both and offers to spend your birthday with you. She learns a lot more than she was ever prepared for.

Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: panic attack (flashbacks, freaking out, very slight blood mention, mention of abandonment), swearing, extremely awkward interactions (it deserves a warning) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @asters-abditory @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn

Summer was quickly approaching by the time anyone had thought to bring up graduation. Truthfully, Yoko had completely forgotten it was your senior year; how time flies. It wasn’t like you were going anywhere anyway, it wasn’t an important piece of information. You were still going to be at Nevermore to annoy them until everyone was ready to leave, it wasn’t rocket science.

Though apparently no one else seemed to know that.

“Have you decided on a college yet?” Enid asked when you and Wednesday finally sat down at the table. It was nice to see you both finally acting a little more like a normal couple. If Yoko had been forced to listen to you gripe and complain about it one more time, she would’ve killed you.

You looked over at Wednesday with an expectant face, wanting to hear the answer yourself. Yoko nearly reached across the table to slap you, sometimes you were so stupid. She loved you, she would die for you, but sometimes you were just… you were too clueless for your own good.

“She means you, dumbass,” Yoko clarified, throwing a blackberry at you to catch your attention.

“Me?” You asked, eyes wide.

“Yes you,” Divina said with a smile, “you’re the only one graduating this year.”

“You think I’m going to college?” You asked incredulously. “Me? Have you seen my GPA?”

“You haven’t even applied?” Wednesday asked with the same amount of incredulity. “You’re not going anywhere?”

“Why? Trying to get rid of me?” You asked with a pointed look and side smile that, to any outsider, would have been teasing.

But Yoko knew better. She saw the crinkle by your eye, the knit of your brow, the way your deft fingers managed to pick a blackberry apart seed by seed. It was as if, suddenly, you were brought back to being nine years old again. An ache settled in her chest as she fought the urge to grab your hand to stop you from eventually picking at your own fingers once the blackberry was decimated.

“So you’re staying with us?” Enid asked.

“Absolutely,” you said with a turn of your head and a slightly more genuine excitement, “you’re stuck with me for another year.”

Everyone started talking, going on about all of their summer plans, but Yoko’s eyes were on you. There was still the slightest crinkle between your brows and you were now, as predicted, picking at your own fingers instead of the nonexistent blackberry. You laughed at the right times, looked at whoever was talking, and nodded when appropriate.

All Yoko could think about was how Wednesday needed to learn. It was well known that she was inept in noticing your tells, but she needed to learn. If she was going to stick around - which Yoko hoped she would - then she would need a crash course. No, it wasn’t completely her fault, you were rather conspicuous, but at the end of the day it didn’t matter.

The air seemed to clear now that everyone knew you were sticking around, which was rather shocking to Yoko. How had no one picked up on the fact that you weren’t going anywhere? You hadn’t been trying to hide it. Had you? No, there was no way, you had told her your plans so surely you had told your girlfriend. But she could see the relaxed set of Wednesday’s shoulders and figured that no, apparently no one else had known.

Thanks to the end of the year rolling by faster than anyone was prepared for, Yoko didn’t have any time to talk to you until the week before your birthday. The sun was setting, you had already picked up the pizza, and she had chosen the perfect spot by the lake. Enid, Divina, and Wednesday would be out at the drive-in for the rest of the evening so there was no chance of interruption. The perfect opportunity to get to talk to you with no barriers.

No offense to the girlfriends, of course.

"Here ya go," you said as you unceremoniously dropped the two pizza boxes onto the blanket, "one supreme and one… whatever the hell you eat."

"Don't give me that shit," Yoko said with a roll of her eyes. You plopped yourself down and opened one of the boxes. "A Margherita is classy."

"You just like it cause you're old," you said around the obscene mouthful of food. "I mean, what are you now? 90?"

Satisfaction filled her heart when her foot connected with your side. You groaned and doubled over as the laughter left her mouth. She was so busy laughing that she didn't catch you before you retaliated and elbowed her back. Obviously not with your full strength, but you had expert precision. The laughter died down and you both started eating again.

"Oh," you said after Yoko had finished off a slice, "that one has a bit of garlic, hope you don't mind."

She froze mid-bite, her eyes darting over to you. You weren't even looking at her, just completely focused on scarfing down your fourth piece. Surely you were joking, right? She knew you had your moments but you weren't actually serious. Right?

"You did not," Yoko whispered.

"What?" You asked, finally turning to look at her with furrowed brows and a pout. "What's wrong?"

No. No you did not.

"Are you fucking serious?" She asked.

"What's the big deal?" You shot back.

"You absolute dumbass, you know I'm-" she stopped herself short when your smile finally broke through. "You jackass." She elbowed you again as your laughter echoed off the water of the lake. "It's not funny."

"It's a little funny," you mumbled more to yourself than to her.

It was nice to hear you laugh again. Not that Wednesday didn't make you happy, because she very much did. But the goth girl certainly didn't have the same sense of humor as everyone else. To hear you laugh and see such a carefree smile on your face again? It warmed her dead heart.

You both sat there, eating the pizza and talking. About everything, about nothing. How the family was faring with the end of the school year, if Nicky had made any improvements, all about everyone's girlfriends. Teases were thrown left and right whenever the other would get soft, immediately hardening you both up. At least in jest.

Yoko had missed you. She had missed your calming presence and everything that came with it. The hypnotizing flap of your wings or the incessant humming whenever it got quiet. Your warmth when you wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. The way you smelled of chalk and coffee and dirt, but it was home. You were home.

"Is everyone coming up for graduation?" Yoko asked after you had both laid down to look up at the stars. She could feel the feathers of your wing brush against her arm. It almost tickled.

"Nah," you said softly. "No, I'm not walking."

"Why not?"

There was a beat of silence that seemed to stretch on for hours. Please tell me the truth, Yoko thought the longer it took for you to answer. You had gone months without telling her anything; she knew you were bound to break soon. Please. She just wanted you to speak openly.

"Nicky never got to walk." Your voice was so painfully quiet. "And he worked much harder for it." The silence following your words was almost too much to bear. "Why should I walk when he couldn't."

It wasn't even a rhetorical question; it wasn't a question at all. It dug at the truth behind your recent actions and temperament. At the reasoning behind your glassy eyes and dissociating during classes or meals. Your slacking off with work and studies and even hanging out with everyone.

Yoko had watched you pull away and had said nothing. After all, what could she say? She had watched you grow up, had been there with you through it all. What could she tell you now that she hadn't already said? Nothing, she thought, nothing at all.

"He would want you to walk," she said instead.

"He would've walked today." Yoko stayed silent at your instant change of topic. "I, uh… I looked up the commencement date for UVA." You sniffle from your spot beside her. "He would've gotten his bachelor's today."

Yoko kept her mouth shut. She knew if she said anything, it would derail your thoughts and you would try to shake it off like you so often did. No, she kept silent. But she reached her hand across the small expanse between you and grabbed your hand. The way you squeezed it tightly told her everything.

"I watched the livestream," you continued. "Watched until they would've called his name." Another sniffle. "But they didn't call it." Your voice sounded watery. "Everyone just kept going."

She could hear the tears in your voice, and she debated turning to look at you. But if she looked at you and saw those puffy red eyes and your quivering lip, she wouldn't be able to be strong for you. A comforting squeeze of her hand would have to suffice for the moment.

"I'm tired, Yoko," you said in a voice so fragile that Yoko felt even breathing too hard would break you.

She still said nothing. What words could ease that debilitating ache in your chest that you kept to yourself? Nothing could ease it, she knew. But I can try, she thought as she turned to her side and pulled you close. You were far too big to be the little spoon, but you gripped her hands and nestled in closer to her and for a moment, just a moment, she felt some of that tension release itself.

The grip you had on her was almost painful; you didn’t bother holding back and she didn’t want you to. It grounded you, she knew, and that was what you needed. If she focused, she could feel your heart racing under her hands, the ones you had tucked underneath your chin. Every now and then a wing would twitch and the feathers would tickle her nose, but she would be damned if she sneezed and stopped your moment.

When your breathing evened out and she could hear the softest of snores, she let her mind start to wander. Much like Wednesday, you weren't one to voice your feelings. Hell, even if they did appear you managed to shove them right back down. But you needed physical comfort on nights like this, where you were stuck in your head and nothing could get through to you.

Yoko decided then that she would have to teach Wednesday how to comfort you. And that was probably the most terrifying thought she had ever had in her long life.

—---

You weren’t in school. She had kissed you once yesterday after class before her date with Enid. See you in class tomorrow, she had said, and you had agreed with a nod, a smile, and an exasperated go find Enid. But now it was tomorrow, and you both had Chemistry first period, and you weren’t there.

Bold faced liar.

It felt like there was a void in the class where normally you had resided. The incessant sound of you doodling pictures on the margins of her papers was missing along with the occasional knock of your leg against hers. She didn’t hear you sigh when you got yet another question wrong on the assignment. There was no whining plea for help after staring at your paper for too long without making a single note.

Even if she wouldn’t admit she missed you, she certainly missed your presence.

“Yoko,” Wednesday called out once class was over and everyone was making their way out of the room. “Have you seen Y/N?”

“You noticed quicker than I thought,” Yoko said with a closed-mouth smile. “She always ditches on her birthday.”

Birthday? You had never told her it was your birthday. She knew she didn’t really celebrate anymore, but surely you did. It was a common occurrence for most people, was it not? Why hadn’t you told her? She would have tried to plan something. With Enid’s help, of course.

“Finals are in two days.” Wednesday said simply.

“I don’t know what to tell you-”

“-Where is she?”

Yoko sighed and looked away into the courtyard. This was one of the times Wednesday despised the use of those blackout sunglasses. How was she going to know what Yoko was thinking if she couldn’t see her eyes? It was inconsiderate, if nothing else.

"Yoko," Wednesday said with a little more urgency.

"Okay, fine, jeez," Yoko huffed. "She's out at Moose Mountain."

"What's she doing there?" Wednesday asked. She was getting nowhere with Yoko's partial answers. "She needs to be studying."

"She goes every birthday," Yoko said. There was a bit of hesitation in her words and Wednesday definitely saw her switch weight between legs.

"Is she okay?" Wednesday asked softly. Far too soft since Yoko was the audience. But there was something in the way Yoko was acting that set her on edge.

"She-," Yoko sighed and looked away again. Clear signs of uncertainty. She was horrible at keeping a poker face. "Do you plan on sticking around?" She asked, turning to face Wednesday once again.

All that uncertainty in Yoko's voice was gone, replaced with something else. Wednesday usually prided herself on being ahead of the conversation, but this was admittedly a surprise. She couldn't place Yoko's body language into any one category of emotion. She really needed to practice reading emotions again with Enid. Maybe this weekend.

"I don't understand," Wednesday admitted. Because she didn't. What did that question even mean? Why are people so cryptic nowadays?

"I'm not exposing Y/N if you don't plan on sticking around," Yoko said, and Wednesday's body tensed. "It's not a proposal," she corrected, "but if you're dumping her within a year then I'm not filling you in."

Did Wednesday plan on getting rid of you? Admittedly the thought hadn't ever crossed her mind, not seriously at least. Sure, she had considered it whenever you teased her or acted like a reckless fool. But had she ever genuinely considered it? Could she where consider it?

It's too soon, she thought as she subconsciously blinked rapidly before regaining her composure. She couldn't come up with an answer to that question right on the spot, not without any consideration into the matter. Though, she would admit that the thought of not having you around, even as a friend, forced an uneasiness to settle in her stomach.

"I will be staying," Wednesday said. With how soft her words were, it was almost as if she was trying to convince herself instead of Yoko, who let out a deep, extended sigh.

"Then come on," Yoko said with a gesture of her head. "If we leave now, we can catch her."

Yoko took off without waiting, and Wednesday considered for a moment to not follow. But her curiosity was piqued and she couldn't just stay at Nevermore when she had the opportunity to find out more. With no concern for her own finals in two days, she followed after Yoko until they got to a car, which Yoko quickly got into the driver's side of.

She couldn't remember a time she had been in a car with anyone that wasn't adult. Sure, Yoko was more than qualified to be an adult, but that was simply semantics. It was almost unsettling, and for a moment Wednesday wondered if this was how you felt whenever you got into a car. The anxiety around someone else's driving, or the other cars that you had no control over.

It certainly made it a little easier to understand your perspective.

Neither of them talked the entire three hours of the drive. The only noise came from the car itself or the music humming through the radio. Unusual songs, Wednesday would think with each new piece, but she kept it to herself. She had learned from you that good music was subjective. Her opinion was still superior, but she could keep her mouth shut.

The car pulled to a slow stop at one of the rests on the mountain. No one was around, but Wednesday could see the cliff's edge from where the car was parked. A tall figure stood precariously at the edge, head leaned back and wings stretched just enough to catch the wind as the sun illuminated each individual feather.

"Don't bring up her birthday," Yoko said softly as Wednesday stepped out of the car. "And be gentle."

Gentle. Wednesday could be gentle, right? How difficult could it truly be. She knew how sensitive you could be, she knew how to avoid upsetting you. For the most part. But she wasn’t feeling too confident now that Yoko was emphasising it. What if she couldn’t be as gentle as she thought? She wasn’t necessarily good at it but she was getting better.

Her thoughts were still running wild by the time she finally stood beside you. The scenery was the last thing on her mind as she looked up at you; you with your sturdy stance and your hands shoved into your shorts pockets. Your eyes were closed and the sun shone on your face. What were you thinking? You looked so serene, aside from the downturn of your lips.

“It’s a nice day,” you said softly. Ah, so you had noticed her presence.

“I know,” Wednesday said, matching your tone, “it’s rather tragic.”

The downturn of your lips reversed, and finally, slowly your eyes pried themselves open. They sparkled in the sun, Wednesday noted. Did you know that they refracted the light like a prism when you turned to look down at her? Were you aware that you could hold anyone in your gaze if you simply gave them that little smile?

“Yoko still in the car?” You asked.

“Yes,” she answered. You pursed your lips and nodded slowly to yourself and looked back out to the mountain range.

“She tell you anything?” There was a shake to your voice. Something Wednesday normally wouldn’t pick up, yet she always managed to pick it up with you.

“No,” she said softly.

“Dont-,” you stopped and took a deep breath in. For a moment, only a moment, Wednesday thought she saw your bottom lip quiver. “Don’t look at me while I talk.”

But what if she wanted to look at you? What if she wanted to study you, watch all your facial expressions as you talked about… whatever it was you were going to talk about. She wanted to watch so she could know the exact moment you broke; because it was clear you were going to break, she could see it in the shimmer of your eyes that hadn’t been there before and the overly tensed muscles in your legs.

If you broke, when you broke, she wanted to know. Maybe she could help.

Be gentle, Yoko’s voice echoed in her head, and Wednesday dutifully turned to finally look out at the scenery. It truly was beautiful, no matter how much she wanted to wish it was a little more gloomy. In the distance she could see a few eagles flying high over the lush green trees that littered the mountainside. Just below she could hear rushing water; was it a waterfall? Or simply a river? Had you been down there to discover its secrets?

“I forced Nicky to bring me here for my 14th birthday,” you said so quietly that Wednesday almost couldn’t hear you over the sound of the wind and surrounding nature. “We camped right down there,” you pointed to a spot below the cliff’s edge, “and then spent my actual birthday just sitting up here.”

Your feathers twitched and brushed against her arm. Even through her clothes she could feel it and it almost tickled. She heard a sniffle from where you were standing and wanted to turn, but your words rang loud and clear in her mind. Don’t look. Even though she wanted to check on you, she equally wanted to hear what you were going to say.

“Every year, I camp up here the night before my birthday,” you continued. She heard another sniffle, heard the quiver in your voice when you said the word “birthday.” Did you know how devastated you sounded? “And then spend the rest of the day with Nicky.” Please let her look at you. “It’s tradition.”

Your voice broke there at the end, and Wednesday realised that oh. Oh, she didn’t have to look at you to know the exact moment you broke. Maybe it was the fact that she spent so much time with you now, but for one of the first times, she could hear the difference. Could hear the waver in your voice before breaking at the end and you stopped yourself from saying anything else.

She didn’t know what to do. Admittedly she was getting better, but she still didn’t know how to handle other people’s emotions, especially not the negative ones. But she knew two things; you were sad, and Enid had told her that most people prefer physical comfort.

I can try physical comfort, Wednesday thought as she made the bold decision to reach over and grab the hand you had yet to put back in your pocket. Usually unbearably warm (almost as warm as Enid), your hand was now cold. Cold and shaking and gripping her own hand so tightly that it hurt.

You both stood like that at the edge of the cliff; your hand squeezing all the blood out of hers, yet she wouldn’t dare pull away. Not when this was the most she had ever gotten out of you. She didn’t understand everything, couldn’t put all the pieces together, but the picture was looking more complete.

“You should both get going,” you said after far too long of just standing there, listening to the nature below and watching the clouds drift by. “Before it gets dark.”

Wednesday missed the warmth of your hand when you pulled away. It always left her with a certain emptiness that she couldn’t properly explain. You’re no longer talking, she thought as she finally turned to look at you right as you finished harshly wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“Come on,” you said, holding your arm out to guide Wednesday away from the ledge. She felt the warmth of your hand once again when it rested on her lower back, gently pushing her toward the car where Yoko was still waiting.

You opened the door and ushered her in, buckling the seatbelt before she had the chance to do it herself. The belt pulled tight against her stomach as you checked it, twice, three times. A breath of air fanned across her neck when you huffed, and only then did you finally step back and close the door.

“Be careful,” you said as you leaned through the rolled down window.

“We will,” Yoko answered.

“Yoko.” Your voice wavered and, against her better judgment, Wednesday turned her head to face you. Tears threatened to spill from your bloodshot eyes. “I’m serious.”

“I’ll keep us safe,” Yoko reinforced.

“Do you still have your window punch?” You asked.

You didn’t wait for an answer before leaning in through the window. Wednesday pushed herself back into the seat instinctively, giving you enough room to move around. It took you only a moment to open the glove box and dig around, eventually pulling out an orange handheld device. It looked like a hammer with a blade inside the handle.

Only after checking it over did she hear you exhale and, with shaky hands, you put it back where it had been found.

“Stay below the limit,” you said as you pulled yourself back out of the window. Wednesday could see your skin pulled taut against your knuckles. “No passing anyone, no stopping, just straight down.”

“I know,” Yoko said, far softer than Wednesday would have managed. You were awfully persistent. “Straight down to DHMC, right?”

“I-,” your eyes blinked rapidly as you opened and closed your mouth a few times. Your head turned to look out down the mountain; what was going on in that head of yours? Rarely did Wednesday ever see you so flustered. You turned to look back into the car. “Straight down to DHMC,” you confirmed.

“Then we’ll see you there,” Yoko said, not with a smile but Wednesday could hear the expression in her voice.

You opened your mouth as if to answer but quickly shut it, resorting to a simple nod before standing up and stepping away from the car. As Yoko pulled away - slowly as requested - Wednesday watched you in the rearview mirror.

She almost thought she saw you cry.

—---

“They’re still not here,” you said aloud as you looked out the hospital window for what had to have been the 10th time in the past two minutes.

"They're probably just stuck in traffic," Nurse Jackie said. You could hear the rustling of sheets for only a few more seconds before going quiet. "It's about time everyone got off work."

"Or not," you mumbled to yourself. That ache in the right side of your chest was back. You couldn't even breathe without feeling it stab into you, whatever it was.

You know what it is.

"Just call and ask-"

"-No," you interrupted, finally turning away from the window to see Nurse Jackie standing next to Nicky's now-clean bed with crossed arms. "She needs to focus, not answer a call."

"Then breathe," Nurse Jackie said softly, "and trust she'll get here safe."

But you couldn't. How could you trust Yoko to stay safe when she wasn't the one you were worried about? You had seen Yoko's driving before, she was as perfect as one could get. No, it wasn't Yoko, it was everyone else on that fucking mountain.

"It's crowded today," Nicky said as he turned the key in the ignition. "Must be here to help us celebrate."

"Too little too late," you scoffed even though your grin gave you away.

"Hopefully everyone is too busy coming up, not down," Nicky said with a wink and a chuckle.

Fuck. Fuck. You grimaced as that pain in your chest grew sharper. Your eyes flitted to the clock on the wall: 5:27pm. They should be here. There's no reason they should still be out driving.

"Hey," Nurse Jackie's voice called out, "just breathe."

No. No you couldn't breathe, it was past time for them to be there. They weren't there. What if they were still stuck on the mountain? Oh God, your feet felt heavy until your back hit the wall.

"I got a full ride to UVA," Nicky said.

"What?" You asked, finally pulling your attention away from the window to look at him. "You're leaving me?"

"It's not leaving," Nicky huffed, "it's just college."

The trees outside the window disappeared, opening up to the cliff's ledge.

"Fuck," you whispered breathlessly.

It felt like a hammer was driving a railroad spike into your brain. No matter how hard you clutched your head, it wouldn't ease up. The wall scraped against your back as you slid down to the floor.

"Y/N, you have to breathe."

"I- I- I ca-," breathing felt so difficult it just hurt.

"It's not even that far and we've still got summers and breaks," Nicky defended. Both hands were on the wheel but you could see how hard he was gripping it.

"You're gonna forget about me," you said with a shaky voice.

"I'm not gonna forget-"

"-you're gonna leave me just like mom and dad."

"That's not fair."

Oh God, everything hurt. Your head, your eyes, your chest, your stomach, it hurt. Something touched your shoulder but all you could do was choke on your shallow, rushed breaths. They tasted metallic.

It was too cold, why was the room so cold?

"You're going to get dizzy, focus on my voice."

Where were Yoko and Wednesday? They needed to be off the mountain. They needed off now.

"I'm not mom and dad," Nicky said, finally turning his head to look at you after rounding another bend.

"They left too," you said softly, your bottom lip quivering. To your right, the trees thinned as another ledge appeared.

"I'm not leaving you," Nicky reinforced. His eyes flashed to the road before coming back to you. "I love you, I'm not just gonna-"

-headlights-

"-Nicky, look out!"

It hurts it hurts it hurts.

"I think that's Yoko's car."

Everything in your body stopped. Your breath caught in your throat and the pain gave one final stab before fading away. The light was blinding when you opened your eyes, but you didn't care. Your legs ached as you jumped to your feet and looked frantically out the window and-

-there. Yoko's car was down. She and Wednesday were getting out of the car. Safe and sound.

A choked sob fell from your lips before you could pull it back together. Something wet slid down your cheeks before being hastily wiped away. You didn’t notice the blood from your lips stain the sleeve of your sweater. They were down in the parking lot. Right down there. You needed to get down there.

“Don’t run,” Nurse Jackie said, her hand squeezing your shoulder gently before pushing you toward the door. You stumbled over your feet at first but quickly gained ground.

You didn’t remember the trip down to the parking lot.

“Your lip is bleeding-”

“-you took too long,” you interrupted, walking up to stand directly in front of Yoko. “Are you hurt?”

“We’re fine,” Yoko said with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t be flippant with me, Tanaka,” you said as you poked your finger into her chest. She didn’t back down. “Straight here, no stops.”

“We didn’t stop,” Yoko said, “we hit traffic outside of town. Not all of us can fly over it, you know.”

Breathe.

Your mouth snapped shut before you took a deep breath in. They were safe. They were safe, they were in the parking lot, it was okay. Safe. Yoko was safe, Wednesday was safe - and giving you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher - and everyone was fine.

“Thank you for being safe,” you managed to push out past the metallic taste that had resurfaced once again.

“You’re welcome,” Yoko said. She sounded way too sassy; she needed to watch her tone. Today was not the day. “Want me to wait for you?”

“No,” you answered quickly, “we’ll take the bus.”

“Okay,” Yoko said, her voice taking on that usual soft tone that she used with you. Part of you hated it. The other part craved it. She leaned up and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, her lips cold against your skin. “Good luck, Addams,” she said before getting back into the driver’s side and speeding off.

“Come on,” you said as you walked to where Wednesday was still standing, completely unmoving. “I promise he doesn’t bite.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept looking at you with that same look that, honestly, was making you more nervous than before. Why couldn’t she say anything? Just something, one thing, this wasn’t the time to be silent. But she was.

And you opted for reaching over to grab her hand to lead her into the hospital. You didn’t intertwine your fingers, just holding her hand like you would a friend. She hates PDA, your brain reminded you as you continued to pull her with you, hands sweaty. Did she notice? Could she feel how clammy your hand was getting?

The halls felt like they were closing in the closer you got to Nicky’s room. They got tighter and tighter and your grip on Wednesday’s hand only tightened. Only when you felt her hand squeeze back once did you let up, looking over to offer an apologetic smile.

She didn’t smile back, but her eyes softened. That was enough.

“Watch out, dear.”

You blinked in surprise, thankfully stopping just in time before running into Nurse Jackie. Thankfully she didn’t seem upset. Did she? No, no she wasn’t upset. She was simply leaving Nicky’s room which… you didn’t really remember walking to, not entirely.

“This is Wednesday,” you said unceremoniously without any buildup. God, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. It was almost painful.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wednesday,” Nurse Jackie said with a kind smile. It eased the anxiety just the slightest. “Your book is in the chair,” she said as she turned to you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, looking down at the floor while pulling Wednesday into the room. The fact that she wasn’t resisting even in the slightest was concerning.

No, you spoke too soon. When you walked fully into the room, you felt Wednesday’s hand squeeze back, tighter than she usually did. You dropped her hand like it was a life wire; it certainly felt the same. Shit, was this too much? It was too much, no doubt about it.

“This is my brother, Nicky,” you said quietly.

The heart monitor continued its incessant beeping. It echoed in your head while Wednesday stayed silent beside you.

This is a mistake.

“You can have a seat,” you said as you gestured to the chair. The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you realised she was staring at you. “Or not, we can go back to Nevermore if you want.”

“Where will you sit?” Wednesday asked, finally breaking the silence.

“There’s another chair over here,” you exhaled.

You turned to face her and the absolute sincerity on her face was too much. No, you didn’t think you liked Wednesday being soft; it was too vulnerable. You weren’t there for vulnerability, you needed her to be harsh and strict to force you to get your shit together. Why now, you thought as you both sat down in your respective chairs. Why be compassionate now?

The ventilator sounded extra loud from your new spot in the room.

What do I do? What do I say?

“Did- did I- did I ever tell you about the time we tried cross country skiing?” You asked, your eyes darting to see Wednesday’s face without turning to face her.

That’s the best you can do?

“No,” Wednesday said. Her voice was still too soft, it was setting your anxiety alight. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

“No,” you chuckled as the memory started coming back in pieces, then all at once. “No, it didn’t go well.”

You leaned forward in your seat when you started retelling the tale. Just the mental image of Nicky on that trip was enough to ease your nerves. It only took that one story before you were telling another one, then another, and at that point you couldn’t even remember what had started the topic.

All the while you were aware of Wednesday watching you. Uncharacteristically for her, she would not along or wordlessly urge you to continue. You were talking too much, you knew it, you could feel yourself talking too much. But the floodgates were opened and now you couldn’t stop.

You almost thought you could see the smallest of smiles on her lips.

“-so he couldn’t even help dig me out of the snow, it was awful,” you said with a laugh as you leaned back in your chair.

But the laughter faded when you noticed Nicky again, laying there, unmoving, eyes closed. And suddenly the stories weren’t so funny anymore, and your eyes were starting to sting, and that sinking feeling made its home in your chest again. Oh. Oh, this wasn’t a normal get together. It wasn’t the typical “meet the girlfriend” day.

Stop being weak.

“Hand me that book, please?” You asked Wednesday, holding your hand out in her direction. Her brows furrowed for only a second before she looked around, handing you the book that she had previously placed on the desk next to her. “Hope you like fantasy books.”

You thumbed through the pages of the novel until you found your spot; you really needed to start using a bookmark instead of taking the time trying to remember where you stopped. But that didn’t matter, not really, because Wednesday hadn’t been here last week and Nicky couldn’t answer.

He couldn’t answer.

It was easier to read stories than to tell them, you thought while the words rolled effortless off your tongue. Reading gave a different kind of distraction; you didn’t have to recall the times that you no longer had. But as you read the novel, it wasn’t the same. Not that day. You couldn’t shake the comparison of Nicky then and now.

A tear fell from your eye before you could stop it.

“I’m sorry,” you said in the middle of a sentence, “I’m going to get some coffee.”

You stood up and dropped the book into your seat.

“Would you like some?” You asked Wednesday, who simply shook her head once. “I’ll be right back.”

You’re leaving her there.

“Shut up,” you mumbled to yourself as you walked down the hall to the coffee machine.

It was hard to breathe. Your fingers shook, nearly dropping the empty cup you had picked up. You felt like a child trying to steal their mother’s coffee with how many things you were dropping, or shaking, or spilling. A sigh of frustration left your lips as you put everything down and leaned against the counter with closed eyes.

“It’s fine,” you whispered to yourself, “I’m fine. It’s just coffee.” But it wasn’t just coffee, it was everything. “Deep breath in,” inhale, “breathe out,” exhale. “I’m fine.” I’m not. “It’s fine.” I can’t breathe.

With one more slow exhale, you opened your eyes and focused on finishing your coffee. Six packets of sugar, a splash of cream, stir, put the lid on. Simple. You took a sip of the hot coffee and, when it didn’t taste quite as dreadful as usual, you nodded to yourself.

“See? Fine,” you mumbled to yourself again.

The old lady in one of the seats behind you was staring at you with a raised brow. Quite frankly, she could fuck off. It was an ICU ward, everyone was on edge in the stupid building. Why couldn’t she mind her own business anyway, who did she think she was? You gave her a polite closed-mouth smile anyway and walked back to Nicky’s room.

And nearly dropped your coffee when you froze in the doorway.

Wednesday was still sitting in the chair with her back to you, but over her shoulder you could see the book you had put down. Her usually monotone voice displayed inflection that was rarely there. She spoke the words clearly, her voice echoing lightly around the room.

She’s reading to him. You know. Without prompting. Yes, you could see that. She’s interacting. Yes, you could see that as well. Why is she reading to him? A wonderful question. This means she genuinely cares, right? Most likely. Get in there. Right, of course.

Your feet controlled themselves, dragging you over to your chair where you sat down stiffly and just looked between Wednesday and Nicky. She stuttered for a moment, looking up to meet your eyes, before looking back to the book and continuing.

She knows I’m here and she’s still reading. Yes, you could see that, you had eyes. She cares. Yes, it would appear so. She’s treating Nicky equally. So it seems. She looks beautiful. Even more so now. I would do anything for her. Without hesitation.

Oh.

I love her.

—---

Enid and Thing were gone by the time you dropped Wednesday off at her dorm. You had left her with a very uncertain goodnight and a hesitant, awkward kiss on the top of her head. Under normal circumstances she would have demanded an actual goodnight kiss, but she would give you a free pass for now.

But now, late in the evening, Wednesday was alone and finally had time to think. Your actions, your behaviour, your moods, it all made sense. How had you kept such a thing to yourself for so long? Did you not just want to scream and rage? She would have. She couldn’t guarantee she would’ve held it together for so long, especially not on her own.

You wouldn’t have to be on your own either, if she had any say in it.

She sat down at her desk and pulled the crystal ball in front of her. Her parents answered almost immediately.

“You’re calling rather late,” her mother said not unkindly.

“We have a situation,” Wednesday said simply. She waited for her mother and father to give her their undivided attention. “How would you like to help our little bird?”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #everyone but her au

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