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not-neverland06 · 3 months ago

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n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress.

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other.

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since.

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn.

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer.

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face.

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy.

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face.

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan.

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound.

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.”

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel.

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now.

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan.

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar.

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense.

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her.

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be.

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out.

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer.

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here.

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt.

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit.

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers.

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom.

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar.

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.”

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that.

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him.

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all.

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations.

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice.

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title.

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break.

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar.

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you.

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind.

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish.

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across.

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now.

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him.

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question.

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone.

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word.

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him.

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you.

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel.

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you.

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name.

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside.

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles.

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream.

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion.

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away.

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force.

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window.

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise.

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation.

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown.

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it.

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout.

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid.

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?”

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him.

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed.

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you.

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry.

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands.

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy.

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore.

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry.

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess.

“You look like shit.”

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands.

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath.

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears.

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all.

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head.

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah.

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now.

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything.

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night.

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her.

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you.

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you.

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit.

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions.

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree.

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place.

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside.

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that.

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again.

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day.

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together.

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head.

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off.

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.”

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it.

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem.

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs.

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you.

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes.

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out.

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is.

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench.

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan.

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in.

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other.

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit.

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead.

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him.

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head.

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this.

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him.

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out.

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care.

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic.

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him.

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face.

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic.

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care.

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back.

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care.

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building.

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat.

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out.

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over.

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him.

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go.

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you.

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open.

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you.

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge.

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing.

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place.

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy.

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for.

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered.

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.”

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other.

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back.

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers.

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did.

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings.

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.”

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it.

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

#Wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #x men #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #smut #ohmygod #i can’t believe i wrote this #Someone sedate me #im just a girl #i cant be blamed LOOK AT HIM #he's actually older than every adult man in my life #can you tell i need therapy

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hairmetal666 · 6 months ago

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It's 3am. It's pouring down rain. Steve's soaked to the skin, been wandering the city for most of the night, hasn't slept in almost 24 hours, thinks maybe he's on the brink of delirium, and then a truck hits a pool of ponded water, sending a muddy wave cascading over him.

He just wants to go home but Dustin lost his dog and he can't leave a puppy out in this weather.

Steve steps off the curb, and what looks like a shallow puddle turns out to be a water-filled hole. He crashes towards the pavement, nothing he can do to stop it. As fast he's falling, he's miraculously not, arms wrapped around his waist. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, to understand that he's being held upright in an old-fashioned, romantic dip.

"Careful, sweetheart," a deep and smoke raspy voice says from above him.

it sends chills down his spine, the good kind, and warmth slips through him. His rescuer is a solid 10 knockout. Long, curly hair; eyeliner; decked out in leather and studs and chains. He smells like booze and cigarettes and weed, and it's intoxicating. Steve has to fight the instinct to nuzzle the guy's leather jacket. He's beautiful, holds Steve with the swagger only a guy with rings on every finger could pull off.

And Steve is a mud soaked mess in sweatpants and a threadbare Hawkins High tee. But the guy holding him isn't letting go. He stares down at Steve, brown eyes wide.

"Steve!" A voice calls over the patter of the rain.

"Dustin?" He says at the same time that the man holding him says, "Henderson?"

"Eddie?" Dustin asks.

"Wait, dnd Eddie?" Steve gets his feet under him, but Eddie's arms don't drop.

"You're the famous babysitter Steve I've been hearing all about?"

They gape at each other until Dustin reaches them.

"What are you still doing out here?" Dustin shouts. "We found Dart hours ago."

"Dustin!" He thinks he might cry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't answering your walkie!"

"Fuck." Steve drops his face to his hand. The walkie. Which is on the table by the front door where he and Robin leave their keys.

Steve swallows his frustration, the misery of waterlogged shoes, having to be up to open the store in a few hours, meeting the hottest guy he's ever seen when he looks like a drowned rat.

"I promised I'd find Dart, didn't I? Now what the hell are you doing out so late?"

"Mom and I were looking for you!"

"Let's get you back to the car, man, okay?" Steve says to Dustin. He wants to end this weird, terrible, embarrassing night before it gets even more humiliating.

"I can give you a ride home," Eddie says. He's got this weird, intense look on his face, staring at Steve.

"I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be fine. C'mon, Henderson."

"Oh, I can walk him. You head home."

He nods, starts towards his apartment, but turns back just in time to see Eddie and Dustin share a look he can't parse.

---

A few days later, Dustin's following him around at work, chattering about dnd as Steve shelves books, and without taking a breath during a soliloquy about owl bears, says, "Eddie's running a one-shot for us next week. You should come! It's a great way to get into the game."

"I'm not playing dnd," Steve answers. He slides a book onto the shelf. "I've told you this."

"Yeah, but you liked Eddie, right? He'd help you out!"

Steve squints at the kid. "I didn't really meet Eddie to know. Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want a newbie crashing."

Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn't like him, based on their short introduction, so he's not interested in forcing himself into the guy's dnd club. The night they met was humiliating enough, Steve in all his dorky glory.

"No, he totally wouldn't care. C'mon, Steve!"

"No can do." He ruffles Dustin's hair as he walks away.

He thinks that'll be the end of it, but every few days, for weeks Dustin and all the rest of the kids stop at the store to beg him to join their dnd club.

---

Steve is working the register and he hears the shuffling clank of a customer, looks up and finds Eddie. He's staring at Steve with that same look from the night they met, intense and piercing, cutting straight through the heart of him. He feels himself start to blush.

The first thing out of Eddie's mouth is, "Wait, this is your store?"

"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Is that--is that weird?"

"No! Not at all. It's a good store. Cute." His nose wrinkles when he says it and Steve's blush grows hotter. He knew Eddie thought he was a dork.

"Cute. Yeah. Right. Can I help you with something?"

Eddie rocks back on his heels, hands going to the pockets of his leather jacket, sending his chains jingling. "Oh, so, actually I wanted to see if you were busy?"

"Yeah, man. I'm busy." He laughs, doesn't intend to be mean about it, but he and Robin only opened the store six months ago and both take night classes at the local community college. Plus, everything he does with the kids.

Eddie's face flushes bright. "Oh, sure, of course. Yeah, I--I'll see you around."

The door thunks to a close behind him, and a voice immediately pops up to ask, "What the hell was that?"

He turns to find Max Mayfield hands on hips, glaring up at him, Robin close behind.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Max rolls her eyes and strides up to the counter. "Why were you an asshole to Eddie?"

"He started it!"

"I highly doubt that."

"Okay, Ms. Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I know for a fact that Eddie came in today to ask you out. So, tell me, Steve Harrington, why he rushed out of here looking like a kicked puppy?"

"What?" He yelps. "Eddie doesn't even like me!"

She glares. "Doesn't like you? He's been pathetic about you since you met."

He gapes at Robin. "Don't look at me," she shrugs. "But that guy was definitely here to ask you out."

"Fix it." Max commands as she stomps out the door. "He bar tends at that metal place on 68th."

---

It's just after 9pm and he's at the metal bar on 68th, decidedly out of place in the yellow t-shirt and jeans he wore to his business accounting class.

It's fairly busy for a weeknight, but Eddie's not hard to find. He's obviously in his element, bobbing his head to a song Steve's never heard as he mixes a drink.

With a hard swallow and a healthy dose of humility, he walks up to the bar.

"Be right--" Eddie starts, balking when he notices Steve.

"Can we talk?" he shouts over the music.

Eddie's eyes widen a little, but he nods, slips out from behind the bar to guide him to an employee exit.

"What's up, Steve?" Eddie asks. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders bowed in.

"I wanted to apologize."

"What for?"

"Earlier, I--when you said the store was cute I thought you were making fun of me."

"But--why?"

"I thought you didn't like me." Steve cringes at the admission.

"What?" He laughs.

"I don't know. We met in the middle of the night and I was covered in mud looking for a dog that wasn't lost anymore."

"Steve. Holy shit." Eddie shakes his head. "You looked gorgeous that night. The way your clothes were sticking--you know what? Never mind. Did you think I wanted you to come to dnd because I hated you?"

"You wanted me to come?"

"Dustin didn't..."

"No! And he's been asking me to play dnd weekly for the past five years."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie slumps agains the brick wall at his back. "No wonder you turned me down today."

"To be fair," Steve slumps next to him. "If I had realized you were asking me out, I wouldn't have turned you down."

"No?" Eddie asks. His brown eyes gleam.

"Definitely not. I've had a crush on you since that night. Sort of devastating since I thought you didn't like me." Steve runs his hand through his hair, watches Eddie track the movement.

"The store is cute, Steve. I--uh--I've been a few times. Back before I knew you were the owner! I just kept seeing a hot employee with great hair and a perfect ass, and the vaguely mean lesbian barista gives me free drinks."

"That's Robin," Steve says. He's smiling so hard.

"I know that now," Eddie smiles back. "Sorry for being an idiot."

"Me too." Steve nods. "Do you--could I still come to dnd? Or take you out sometime?"

"Why not both?" Dimples pop on Eddie's cheeks, and Steve's heart flips.

"I like both." They're still against the wall, but drifting into each other's space.

"So Dustin said."

It surprises a laugh out of Steve. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Too bad. He's a nice kid."

"Eh, we've got six more to choose from."

"I have a few more hours here, but there's a diner down the street that does some of the most mediocre pancakes I've ever tasted. Meet me there? Around 2?"

"A thousand lost puppies wouldn't make me miss it."

The next time Steve is out at 3am he's pressed against a building, Eddie kissing him so thoroughly he knows he's never recovering from this one.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #meet ugly #misunderstandings #feelings confession #mutual pining #idiots to lovers #hero eddie munson #damsel in distress steve harrington #steve thinks eddie is disgusted by him #meanwhile eddie is down bad crying at dnd #the kids try to do matchmaking and only max is successful #bookstore owners steve and robin #bartender eddie munson

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sincerelyneo · 18 days ago

Text

blank space | p.js

“i get drunk on jealousy”

💿now playing: blank space by taylor swift

❯ summary: Your boyfriend, Jisung, is just so damn…oblivious, and it’s going to get him in trouble one day. Especially if he keeps letting that make up artist flirt with him right in front of you.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, angst, idol!au

❯ words: 4.1k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, arguing, a lot of jealousy, possessive!reader, switch!jisung, praise kink, oral sex (both), unprotected sex (don't do this!), fingering, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, pet names, marking, angsty, literally just reader getting jealous and then getting pissed at jisung for not realising it (lowkey real but I may be projecting).

“No seriously, Jisung, you have the prettiest eyes for eyeliner. It gives you crazy sex appeal,” the makeup artist says with a bite of her lip, smudging the black colour out beneath Jisung’s eye.

Your boyfriend blushes and nods, cheeks flushing pink as he mutters out a rushed, “Thank you.”

Your left eye starts to twitch — there’s no way you could keep your sanity hearing another woman say your boyfriend has any kind of sex appeal. You consider the consequences of potentially trying to gauge her eyes out if she carries on. Not worth the jail time.

Instead, you watch her, tight-lipped and sharp gaze as she lets her fingertips graze Jisung’s cheeks a little too delicately, her touch lingering for way longer than it should. Compliments flowing out of her mouth like water as she studies parts of his face that only you should know about.

And that’s not even the worst part — oh no — the part that’s driving you absolutely insane is the fact that Jisung is completely oblivious to it all. Honestly, the more toxic part of your brain wants to call it him being complicit but deep down you know he’s simply just clueless. In fact, you had to be the one to make the first move at the beginning of your relationship because the poor boy could not pick up on any of your flirting signals.

At first, you thought it was cute; maybe it still is when he’s obvious to you — but to other girls — absolutely not. On one hand, Jisung was everything you could ever want in a boyfriend—bubbly, friendly, and kind, like a lost puppy who always found his way back to you. But his obliviousness to the world around him drives you up the wall.

Especially when it comes to that makeup artist who laughs a little too loudly at his jokes. He’s not even that funny, you think with a scoff.

Jisung does, however, notice the sound escaping your lips and his eyes snap to the mirror in front of him to study you. You’re lazily scrolling through your phone, body turned away from him with a bored expression.

His eyebrows furrow, you’re pissed, but why?

He took the trash out last night when he got home from practice, he didn’t eat your leftovers despite really wanting to, he told you he loved you this morning, and he even let you have the aux on the drive to set.

“Everything okay Y/N?”

You look up from your phone to meet his eyes through the mirror, “It will be if she—”

“Jisung, tilt your head back for me a little,” the makeup artist interrupts, voice high pitched and so fucking annoying. “I can’t see your gorgeous eyes like this.”

Is this bitch for real?

You can't take it anymore. It's like he doesn’t even notice—or maybe he just doesn’t care. If the roles were reversed, you’d have called the guy out by now. But Jisung and his total utter obliviousness strikes again.

Deciding you’ve had enough, with a tight smile and quick glance at Jisung, you get up to leave. But before you can take two steps, he calls after you, voice laced with that confused, puppy-dog innocence that only makes you more frustrated.

"Wait, where are you going?"

You shrug, “Somewhere where I’m not interrupting.”

There’s a flicker of confusion in his eyes, then a hint of realization, as he studies your soured expression, pointed in a certain woman’s direction. He turns to the makeup artist, who’s still holding her brush up midair, looking at him expectantly.

“Noona,” he says with an apologetic smile, “do you think we could take a break for like fifteen minutes?”

The way he says it—"Noona"—sends a fresh wave of annoyance through you. It’s petty really on your part but you can’t help but wonder how close the two of them actually are. You thought she was just a random makeup artist.

“Sungie, our time is already short—”

Jisung gives her a soft look. “Please.”

She frowns but ultimately nods, packing up her kit with a pout that makes you want to roll your eyes.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, Jisung turns in his chair to face you fully, hand reaching out to hold yours. "What’s going on? Are you okay?"

You shake off his hand, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “Noona?”

His eyes widen as he stumbles over his words. “It’s… just polite,” he says, looking genuinely puzzled. “She’s older, so I thought—”

“You’re kidding, right?” You let out a huff. “She was practically flirting with you!”

Jisung blinks, still looking as lost as ever.

“Flirting?” he says, furrowing his brows. “No, she was just doing her job. She has to say nice things—they do it to all the other boys.”

“All the other boys are single,” you let out an incredulous laugh, crossing your arms tighter. “And that went beyond saying nice things, Jisung, she was calling you sexy and practically petting your face!”

He scratches the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “It… might’ve sounded like that, but I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.” His eyes flicker down. “She’s just… really friendly, maybe?”

“Friendly? So it would be friendly if another guy started calling me sexy right in front of you?”

“Well, no, but–”

You don’t even let him finish before you’re snapping again, “Not to mention that she was practically drooling over you, and she called you, Sungie!”

He lets out a soft sigh, trying to keep up with your frustration but clearly not understanding. “The guys call me that too,” he says, still wearing that innocent expression. “It’s not a big deal…is it?”

Is he serious?

You shake your head and tongue the inside of your cheek in disbelief. You give him a final glance up and down and try to head for this door again – but this time he’s out of the chair and grabbing your wrist, his grip firm but gentle.

“Let go of me, Sung.”

“No, baby, you’re mad at me, and I don’t want that,” he looks at you, alarmed now, eyes wide. “I swear, I don’t see her that way. I didn’t even notice she was flirting with me.”

“That’s exactly my point, Jisung!” You let out an exasperated sigh. “You didn’t notice. You never do.”

Jisung sighs, and you can tell he’s holding back a laugh, his lips twitching.

“Okay, I get it, you’re frustrated with me.” He pulls you in a little closer, tilting his head with that slight smirk, his voice dropping as he says, “But just so we’re clear… I only notice when you flirt with me.”

He’s trying to lighten the mood, clearly, that stupid grin of his doing nothing to ease your annoyance though. You pull your wrist from his grasp, fixing him with a deadpan look, but he doesn’t stop, leaning in closer with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Baby, she’s not the one I think about when I’m sitting in that chair,” his hand finds its way to your waist, pulling you just close enough that you’re practically breathing the same air, his voice low and teasing. “I only think about you. I love thinking about only you.”

He brings his hand up to your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin as he tilts your face up to his. “Only person I want is you. And I’m sorry for not realising. I never want to upset you.”

Your cheeks flush, but you’re still not ready to let him off the hook that easily.

“Maybe you wouldn’t upset me if you weren’t so clueless,” you say, voice half a grumble. “You’re mine, Jisung, and I don’t like other girls thinking they can talk to you like that.”

He nods, his grin widening as his lips ghost over yours. “Got it. So I’ll just have to show you I’m yours then, huh?”

You hold onto a sliver of your stubbornness, giving him a final huff. “If you don’t, maybe I’ll let some ‘friendly’ guy flirt with me next time.”

His playful look falters, just for a second, and he leans in, his tone dropping. “Not happening,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours as he pulls you flush against him. “You’re mine, too.”

His words spark something inside you—a flicker of pure competitiveness. You lean into his kiss, rough and messy, pouring your frustration into it as your fingers grip his jaw, moaning into him. Jisung whimpers in response, his broad hands moving instinctively to hold your waist—but you’re quicker, pinning his wrists above his head as you press him against the wall, bodies flush.

You watch as his biceps twitch at the movement. You know Jisung – know his body so damn well – that right now he wants nothing more than to touch you, to grope and grasp your body like he owns it. But you’re still mad at him. He knows that. And although he can easily overpower you and have you under his mercy, Jisung lets you deny him what he wants most. Truthfully, he secretly loves it when you make him feel like this — powerless and desperate.

You pull away from him, lips swollen and puffy as they start to pepper kisses down the column of his neck. Images of that makeup artist flicker in your mind as you suck hard against his pale flesh. You know you shouldn’t be doing this – he has a music video to shoot – but something tells you to mark him, claim him as yours for her to see. And judging by the way Jisung moans as your teeth nip at the sensitive skin, you know he’s enjoying it too.

It’s not something you usually do, but right now, he doesn’t mind at all. He’s yours.

Jisung’s chest heaves, his skin bearing the reddened claim of your lips that’s starting to deepen. There’s a rush of satisfaction—pride, maybe lust—in your eyes as you study the mark on his neck, and you see the same desire mirrored in his gaze. His lips are glossy with your spit, parted and breathless; and despite you easing your grip on his arms, he keeps them obediently above his head – like such a good boy.

He looks so wrecked and needy, and you haven’t even touched his cock yet.

“You’re usually such a good boy, Sungie,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch, looking down at you with eyes that are so full and desperate.

“Always want to be good for you, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

You giggle, fingers tracing his cheek. “Yeah? You’re going to be obedient for me, and only me, right?”

He nods eagerly.

“Prove it.”

He doesn’t hesitate for a second. With a firm grip, he cups your thighs beneath his arms and tosses you against the leather sofa in his dressing room—the same one where you’d watched that makeup artist flirt with him. If only she were here now to see and hear everything she’d never get to experience.

You reach for his belt buckle, being just mindful enough to undress him carefully since he’s still in his shoot clothes—but only just. His shoes and clothes drop to the floor and he’s a lot less gentle when it comes to undressing you, tearing away every barrier that’s preventing him from making this up to you.

When you’re finally naked, Jisung sinks between your thighs, sinking a single digit into your needy wet cunt.

You mewl at the stretch of his fingers, enjoying the delicious burn shooting through you as he adds a second one. Jisung loved this part, prepping you and watching you get dizzy from just the length of his fingers. He loved seeing you squirm in pleasure – and truthfully – he’s starting to think he enjoys seeing you squirm with jealousy too. Even if that hadn’t been his original intention.

He scissors his fingers meticulously, knowing every place he needs to touch to have you panting and moaning. When he feels you tighten around him, he does the only logical thing in his mind and leans in and starts to lap at your clit. You tremble, stomach contracting as you thread your fingers through his hair. Just feeling you writhe beneath him makes him smirk against you – he’s sick – increasing the pace of his fingers.

“Fuck–Sungie” you pant, still twisting underneath him.

The pointed tip of his tongue works against your clit without stopping, warm breath coasting over you as his fingers curl specifically inside your until he finds the most sensitive spot that makes your knees quiver.

“You gotta cum first,” he murmurs, the ripple of his deep voice vibrating against you. “I gotta make it up to you.”

You hum, a low, contented sound, tightening your grip on his hair and sinking further into the sofa as he licks at your pussy, relentless and thorough. His fingers glide effortlessly against your inner walls, pressing in just right without resistance. He works you into a frenzy until soft, needy whimpers spill from your lips. A flicker of worry crosses your mind that someone outside might hear—but then again, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

“Gotta make it up to my girl,” he murmurs, voice low and coaxing, “Cum for me, baby. Please, cum for me.”

And you do—so fucking hard. Your body tenses, pleasure tearing through you as his fingers stay persistent, thrusting even as he feels you clench around them. His mouth never leaves your swollen clit, tongue working you over until you’re unravelling completely beneath him. Your loud cries fill the space and send a clear message: he’s yours.

Jisung doesn’t stop, his movements steady and focused, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from you as he watches, eyes dark with pride.

When he feels you coming down, Jisung pulls his fingers from you slowly, sliding them into his mouth, his eyes locked on yours as he tastes you. Your heart races at the sight and your eyes flash with renewed lust, the haze of desire clouding any other thought except one: you have to show him you’re his too.

Without a word, you push him back, guiding him to sit as you settle on his lap, trailing kisses along his jaw and down his neck. You’re driven by that one thought: to make sure he feels just as claimed, just as wanted. He shivers beneath you, hands gliding to your hips, gripping as he tilts his head back.

"Baby, you don’t have to—this was supposed to be about you,” he mutters, voice thick and shaky.

You hush him with a smirk, fingers wrapping around him as you give a soft, teasing lick to his tip. His breath catches, eyes growing darker as he watches you, transfixed. His cock twitches in your hand, and without another word, you take him between your swollen lips—lips he’d claimed, lips he ached for.

Slowly, you let him fill your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you draw him deeper, savouring every reaction. His hand drifts to the back of your head, resting there, a gentle weight that spurs you on. As you start a steady rhythm, moaning softly, you feel his knees tremble, just like yours had. He sucks in a sharp breath, fingers twitching against the back of your head as he tries to keep himself steady, but his hips jerk up involuntarily at the heat of your mouth.

“God, baby… feels so good,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded as he watches you. His pulse quickens with every slow pull of your lips, every hum you let slip that reverberates right through him.

You take him deeper, teasing the underside of his length with your tongue, relishing how his breathing gets rough and ragged. His fingers tighten just a bit, grounding himself against the overwhelming pleasure, though he’s still letting you set the pace, just like the good boy he wants to be for you.

One of your hands slips down to tease his balls, and you pull back just enough to catch a glimpse of him. His eyes are shut now, mouth open in bliss, and you smirk before taking him back between your lips. With each movement, you let your saliva coat his length, stroking him in sync with the rhythm you’d started.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, his hand still resting on your head, gentle but anchoring. “If you keep going like that—”

At the needy sound escaping him, you pull back, and he lets out a frustrated whine, his hips bucking instinctively to chase the pleasure you’ve just taken away.

“Baby…” he murmurs, almost breathless.

“If you really want to make it up to me, Sungie…” You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, his rock-hard cock trapped between your bodies. “Then I need you to fuck me,” you repeat, punctuating your words with a teasing bite at his collarbone.

His eyes darken, any trace of that desperate look disappearing as he slides his hands to your hips, gripping you hard enough to bruise, and strong enough to flip you over. He pulls your back flush against him, and you shiver at the low growl rumbling from his chest. His fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you in place as he teases, before he finally thrusts in–deep.

Jisung stays buried deep inside you, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. You feel every inch of him, throbbing against your already sensitive walls, his balls pressing against your clit. And then he finally moves—fuck, it's good. Rough, and primal, and everything you both crave.

With each thrust, he hits deeper, his pace building as his frustrations melt into something raw and consuming. You arch your back, pushing into him, feeling his grip tighten. His breaths are hot against your shoulder as he leans down, voice a low whisper in your ear, “Yours.”

And you can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your lips as you gasp out, “Mine.”

“Is that what you wanted?” he murmurs, trailing his hand up your spine, feeling you shudder beneath his touch. “Wanted me to prove that you’re the only girl I think about? Show you that you’re the only one who gets to cum on my cock?”

You nod weakly, barely able to manage a breathy, “Yes.”

Your mind feels hazy, consumed by the way he fills you, the perfect burn and stretch as your body accommodates all of him. And trust, there’s a lot of him.

“Am I doing a good job at it?” he grinds out, pulling you upright so your back presses flush against his chest.

He grips your neck, claiming your lips in a kiss that travels along your shoulders and settles at your throat. He sucks a dark mark into your skin while his hands find your breasts, massaging them as he keeps his rough pace.

“So good,” you manage to say, clenching around him. “Always so good for me, Ji…”

He chuckles, pinching your nipple, causing a tiny yelp to escape your lips. “You never have to be jealous, baby,” he coos, “I only ever want to be good for you.”

You nod in agreement, revelling in the way his hands and cock explore every inch of your body. He knows you so well, and it’s clear from the way you’re panting—he’s always eager to please.

“Show me I’ve been a good boy and cum on my cock, baby,” he demands, but your mind is too foggy to process his words. Everything feels heated and overwhelming; his voice fades into a background hum as he pounds into you relentlessly. You’re too far gone to think about anything but him inside you.

“Wanna feel you cum, Sungie,” is all you can manage to gasp out.

A low laugh echoes in your ear. “I will,” he promises, sliding one hand down to your belly. “Gonna cum right here and fill you up. But you have to cum first, okay? You always have to cum first.”

You whine and nod, squirming against him for a moment before he pushes you back down onto all fours.

“Good,” he purrs, snapping his hips against you. “I want to feel you cum.”

He’s fucking into you hard enough that the sound of your skin colliding echoes throughout the room—and probably outside too. You cling to the couch, overwhelmed by just how deep he is, tears brimming in your eyes from the intensity, but your body quickly adjusts, demanding more.

A thin layer of sweat glistens on Jisung’s forehead, mirroring the sheen that coats your body, but still, you crave more. You rock back into him, aided by his strong hands, feeling another orgasm building inside you. Jisung doesn’t let up when your movements falter, skillfully manipulating your body even as you start to shudder and whimper, even as your cunt pulses around him. He fucks you through the climax, grunting loudly, slowing just enough to savour the tightness of your walls around his cock.

You’re a puddle beneath him—and he knows it. Not wanting to overwhelm you any further, his thrusts slow down, becoming gentle and deliberate. You realize what he’s about to do; he’s going to pull out and neglect his own orgasm because he cares too much about you. And that’s when his cluelessness starts to kick in because you don't want that. You want—no, need—him to feel just as good as you do. You want him to use you because, just as he is yours, you’re his.

You wrap an arm around to grip his back, pulling his body against yours again. Glancing over your shoulder, you see his brows furrow and his mouth open to protest, but you silence him by pressing a finger to his jaw and capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Jisung catches on pretty quickly and his thrusts start again—wicked and rough.

It’s clear he’s chasing his own climax this time, and you’re just helplessly being dragged along for the ride—but you don’t mind. Your body responds to him instinctively, craving him as pleasure spirals into more pleasure. You gasp for breath, another orgasm stirring within you as his cock swells inside you.

With a throaty moan that nearly erupts into a roar, Jisung cums, burying himself deep as he spills into you. You shudder quietly, your eyes rolling back and mouth parting in bliss. His weight pins you down, and you sigh happily as he curls his body around you, allowing his cock to keep you full of his cum. It’s territorial and possessive.

And just as you’re about to get lost in the afterglow with him, there’s a pounding at the door that snaps you both back to reality. You know exactly who it is. Her impatient knocks echo through the small room.

"Jisung! The shoot is about to start! It’s been way more than fifteen minutes!"

Panic jolts through you both. Jisung doesn’t waste a second before he scrambles off you. You quickly reach for your clothes, throwing them on in a rush, not even caring that his cum is dripping out of you. The post-orgasm haze starts to fade, and reality is crashing in—hard.

“Just a second!” Jisung calls, trying to smooth down his hair and fix his shirt. You can see the slight flush on his cheeks as he fumbles, still slightly dazed.

The door swings open, and the makeup artist strides in, irritation radiating from her. She surveys the scene, her eyes narrowing. “What happened to you? Your makeup is a mess! Did you—did she make you cry?” Her gaze lands on you, accusatory. “I can have her removed from set if you—”

Jisung starts to speak up, ready to defend you, but the makeup artist’s eyes dart to the purple bruise blooming on his neck—the very mark you left. You can almost see the realization wash over her as the pieces fall into place.

Her expression shifts from annoyance to a mix of embarrassment and realization. “Oh,” she stammers, the colour draining from her face. “That’s not—”

You can’t help the smirk that breaks across your face, a sense of triumph washing over you. Jisung doesn’t say anything and settles on rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Well…it looks to me like you have a lot of work to do,” you tease, knowingly.

The makeup artist huffs, visibly flustered. You stroll past her with a giggle, and just before you close the door behind you, you throw out a sarcastic, “Sorry about that.”

Pride bubbles inside you as you walk away. He’s yours, and that mark on his neck proves it.

#nct smut #jisung smut #nct dream smut #park jisung smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #jisung x reader #kpop smut #nct hard hours #nct scenarios #park jisung x reader #nct oneshot

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emo-batboy · 1 year ago

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Battinson on SNL

Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀

To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”

But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.

Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨

But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.

They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.

So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.

He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?

Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.

It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:

OPENING MONOLOGUE

It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.

To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.

Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”

It’s working. The audience loves it.

Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.

Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.

There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.

Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!

(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)

SKIT #1

Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)

The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀

Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.

Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.

PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”

He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.

PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”

SKIT #2

For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.

It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.

He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.

Yes, he IS sparkly.

Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”

Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.

Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”

Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”

Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.

SKIT #3

The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.

Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another.

Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.

Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.

At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”

This time, the mic bit is a bit different.

Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”

Board dings! That was the #1 answer

Brucie Wayne for the win

SKIT #4

Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”

The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…

But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.

Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”

A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…

We hear some generic hero music play…

And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume

(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)

Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”

Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.

Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”

He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”

CLOSING SEGMENT

Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.

Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)

News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”

News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”

News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”

It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!

News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”

And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.

The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.

Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.

THE END

LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D

#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #batman 2022 #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson needs a hug #gotham #dc universe #dc #saturday night live #snl #soft bruce wayne #batdad #batfamily #gotham city #brucie wayne #only in gotham #give battinson a child 2k23

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nickfowlerrr · 11 months ago

Text

so inviting, i almost jump in.

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.

words: 4.5k

notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.

also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞

"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.

You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.

"Before you say anything-"

"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.

"Doll,"

"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.

"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."

Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.

"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"

You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.

"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.

"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"

"Mhm...maybe," you say.

"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.

"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.

You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.

You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.

But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...

A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.

Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.

That was an immediate 'no thank you'.

You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.

The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.

You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.

You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.

There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.

"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.

"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.

"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"

"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"

He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.

"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.

You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.

"You have to come over."

"No, I really don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You're staying."

"No, I'm not."

"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.

"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I lied."

"Huh? To me? About what?"

"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."

"Another lie?"

"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.

"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.

"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.

Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.

"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.

"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.

"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.

"You had only asked me to be your fake date."

"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Is that a yes?"

You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."

"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.

"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.

More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.

And it's surprising how normal it all feels.

You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!

Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.

You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.

You were here.

With Bucky.

So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.

The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.

"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."

You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.

Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.

This is easy for him because it means nothing.

This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.

Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...

You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.

"Oo, countdown is going!"

The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.

You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.

You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.

As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

Two.

He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.

One.

"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.

"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.

His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…

You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.

You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.

You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.

The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.

"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.

You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.

There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.

Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.

The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...

He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?

Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.

You look at yourself once more in the mirror.

Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.

You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.

You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.

"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.

"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.

"I'm sorry. About kissing you."

"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.

His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.

He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.

You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.

He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.

You walk back out into the living room as he follows.

"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.

"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"

"... I guess not."

"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."

He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"

"What are friends for if not clean up?"

He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.

He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.

"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."

"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."

"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."

"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."

"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"

Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.

"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."

"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.

Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.

Other things, of course, being you.

When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.

He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...

Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.

Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.

"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.

"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"

"If you don't ask, you'll never know."

He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.

But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?

"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.

Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.

It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.

Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...

You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.

You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.

You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.

"I guess I'll head out, then."

"Oh," he breathes.

"Oh?"

"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."

"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.

Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.

"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."

"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.

"What's your resolution?" he asks.

"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."

"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."

"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.

"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.

You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.

"And you?"

Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.

"I…would like to communicate better."

You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."

"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.

"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.

As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.

"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."

You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.

It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.

"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."

"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.

"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.

Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.

"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.

You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.

Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.

"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.

He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.

"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.

It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.

You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #neighbor!bucky x reader #neighbor!bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x plus size reader #ciwywt #bucky x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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redr0sewrites · 9 months ago

Text

Hazbin Hotel Characters with a Goth S/o

this is basically how some of ththe hazbin characters would support their goth s/o- as a goth person this is literally so self-indulgent lmao

🥀Pairing(s): lucifer x reader, velvette x reader, adam x reader, alastor x reader

🥀 Cw: fluff!

Lucifer

lucifer is a little confused and intimidated about your style at first, he definitely asks a lot of questions

VERY supportive once u explain it, hes very much the "okay dear" type

honestly i think he would find it super attractive, the way u express yourself is just so admirable to him

i feel like lucifer is very fidgety and is always losing focus, and one tjing that i do is that im ALWAYS fidgeting with thr chains and accessories on my outfits so like imagine him just standing super close to you and gently rearranging your chains and necklaces for you...

he would let you teach him how to do makeup and eyeliner and would definitely let you practice styles on him!

lucifer would also help you get ready too, always willing to offer some positive feedback or help with makeup and hair

i also think lucifer adores it when you give him music recommendations, and would get super into a lot of the bands that you like

i personally hc him as a siouxsie and the banshees fan bc i just feel like the elegant vibes fit him very well, but i also think he'd like strawberry switchblade too and just goth stuff like that

overall very supportive and super sweet and silly when it comes to your fashion

Velvette

gosh she needs more love

you both are fashion ICONS okay like even before you both become official she is blown away by your style and authenticity

she def designs special fashion items just for you, she makes a whole line of clothes based off of u and ur aesthetic

velvette LOVES matching with you and loves incorporating both of your individual styles into your matching outfits, whether youre more mallgoth or romantic goth or trad goth or anything in between, she is totally inspired by you and your fits and will always want to inspire you in return

def buys you things she seed and thinks you'd like or look good in, regardless of price. her gifts range from thrifted maxi dresses abd fishnets to priceless jewelry and makeup LIKEEEEE omg

velvette LOVES when u wear something she bought for u or designed for u as well

yall are always late for social events bc u HAVE to be the best dressed couple there i swear

also if u wear chunky boots or platforms and ur taller than her???? expect her to pull you down for kisses bc URGH seeing you sm taller than her does something to her

guys i have a type help

Adam

adam thinks your hot af if you're goth

hes the type to make big tiddy goth gf jokes im sorry💀

in all seriousness tho he would LOVE a goth s/o

adam def likes alternative/rock music and he would think it's awesome if you introduced him to some goth bands

he would LOVE the scary bitches, death grips, and also sisters of mercy too

i def think goth people would be much more rare in heaven than in hell, and he would get SO defensive on your behalf if anyone said anything about you or your fashion

honestly hes your number one fan and LOVES giving his input on your fits

honestly your closet doubles when you date him, adam loves seeing you wear his rings and punk jewelry and i def think he has a lot of old band shirts and stuff for his band, so he would love seeing you wear his oversized shirts

if u have piercings WOOWHEE bc adam asks SO MANY QUESTIONS

he thinks theyre so hot ngl, and i def think he has a few piercings and will buy u both matching jewelry

adam would learn to play songs you like on the guitar for you as well

i dont think hed be super keen on letting you put makeup on him but he'd fold after a little persuasion

i honestly think he'd like eyeliner and how he looks wearing it but doesn't want to admit it bc he doesn't want to seem too feminine (but u know ofc)

Alastor

before even meeting you he was fascinated by your style and boldness

alastor loves people who are unique, and someone who chooses to stand out so much definitely catches his eye

he'd find you very aesthetically appealing and would often find himself wanting to be around you more and learn more about you, your style, and goth culture in general

over this time period is probably when he started to develop feelings for you

alastor would def like the romantic/vampire goth look, that whole genre in general is just very elegant and classy while also nonconformist, which definitely speaks to him

when it comes to music alastor would probably be a little skeptical at first, especially when it comes to new technology, however if you (like me) have a record player and vinyl, i def think he would like listening to some of your fav goth bands on that

i dont really know why but i gen think he'd be a fan of the cure, sure its pretty basic but the vibe of some of the songs can be upbeat and kinda jazzy, and they just have that "old timey" vibe i think alastor would appreciate

alastor is fascinated with the process in which you get ready, and enjoys just sitting and watching in peaceful silence as uou do your makeup and pick out your outfit

if you (like most goths) are into creepy and unusual decor, he would LOVE to help you decorate your room

alastor has the strangest taste in interior design and loves sharing his unhinged ideas with you

overall alastor loves people with a lot of individuality and would definitely find a goth partner appealing because of that !!

THIS IS GETTING SO LONG HELP IM PROB GONNA MAKE A PT2 W MORE CHARACTERS HEHE- THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR ALASTOR AND VELVETTE I HOPE I DID THEM JUSTICE!!! WE NEED MORE LOVE FOR VELVETTE SHES SOOOOO AJSJDJD- anywaysssss hope yall enjoyed!!! feel free to req more, esp if u want a pt2 to this >:D

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lovebugism · 11 months ago

Note

"we’re arguing when the ball drops on new year’s eve, and decide to kiss and shit i don’t think i hate you anymore"

with eddie and grumpy!r pls

ty for requesting! :D — your new years kiss ends up being the loudmouth, metalhead, wild-haired boy you can't stand (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Another year passes in a blink, and suddenly everyone around you is chanting “new year, new me” like it’s not just some overdone mantra destined to be forgotten by mid-February.

It’s not surprising that you and Eddie are the only two not participating in the holiday theatrics. It’s also not surprising that the two of you are spending the entirety Steve’s New Years party bickering like a married couple on the couch.

You both got dragged here — you by Robin, and him by Dustin — and the two of you are acting like total grumps about it accordingly. And even though you can’t stand being in the same room as each other, you’ve been shoulder-to-shoulder in the living room all night.

You’re sitting pretty in a black dress beside him, scowling like a storm cloud while Eddie scoops a handful of pretzels in his mouth. Seemingly noticing your side-eyed glare, he starts to chew more audibly because he knows how much you hate it. The slow and rhythmic smack smack smack makes the chatter around you sound more distant as your skin begins to crawl.

Eddie smiles when you tense — wider when you glare at him.

“Sometimes I wonder why I hate you, and then you do stuff like that, and I think to myself, “oh yeah, that’s why.”

He grins with all his teeth, pretzels crumbs and all. “The feeling’s mutual, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you grumble with a roll of your eyes.

You shake your crossed leg to the music playing softly overhead and try to focus on the television in front of you. The staticky film of Times Square isn’t quite as distracting as the boy beside you — and not just because he’s purposefully trying to annoy you.

He has no right to be this pretty, with his wild hair and black button-up and smudged eyeliner. It’s hardly fair.

“Don’t act like one, and I won’t,” he retorts, muffled through the food in his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s disgusting.”

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you the widest smile he’s ever looked at you with. The bits of chewed-up pretzel in his teeth make you grimace.

“You’re a child,” you deadpan.

Eddie laughs — a pretty little sound in a scoffed-out breath.

He sits the half-empty bowl on the coffee table, then pushes his sleeves to his elbows. His arms are pale, lanky, and tattooed. Some of the ink is faded and messy, obviously not done by professionals. You think those intrigue you the most. You’d ask about the stories behind them if you even cared.

Eddie rests his elbows on his knees and looks at you over his shoulder. His smile is pink and made of honey — his eyes dark and made of fire.

“You can act like you hate me all you want, but everyone here knows you’re obsessed with me,” he teases with a scrunched nose, motioning to the room with his pointer finger.

No one’s paying either of you any mind. They’re too focused on their own conversations to care about the ones you and Eddie have had a thousand times over. You try to act as disinterested as they do. You think you’re playing the part pretty well, honestly, but Eddie’s looking at you with a twinkle in his eye like he can see right through it.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Munson.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” he huffs and leans back again, spreading his arms across the back of the couch.

The sudden proximity isn’t lost in you. Neither is the smell of nicotine and sandalwood radiating off of him. It stirs a velvety feeling in the pit of your stomach that you try hopelessly to shove down.

“You must be completely and utterly blind, then.”

“Uh-uh,” he hums with a shake of his wild head. “Twenty-twenty vision, baby.” He leans in close to croon the words in your ear, and your heart lurches into your throat. You shove him off with a half-hearted hand anyway.

“Get off me!” you groan, face scrunched in a childlike annoyance. “And don’t call me baby.”

Eddie settles back beside you with a subtle pout between his brows. “If I can’t call you princess and I can’t call you baby, then what am I supposed to call you?”

“Nothing!” you shout, like being called baby hadn’t stirred something foreignly pleasant behind your ribcage. “Don’t call me anything! Don’t call me at all—”

“Guys! Come here! The ball’s about to drop!” Dustin shouts over the chatter to get everyone’s attention, a bit too loudly. He stands in front of the television along with the rest of the small crowd, ogling at the bad reception of the Times Square Ball and a flashing countdown.

“Sounds like me in middle school,” Eddie jokes, making Steve snort out a laugh when he walks in from the kitchen. You shoot the wild-haired boy a squinted look of disgust and he chuckles. “Oh, c’mon! That was funny, and you know it.”

“Ten!” the crowd begins to chorus.

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble.

“And you’re the one who’s obsessed with the idiot, so… Who’s the real weirdo?”

“Nine!”

“Still you.”

“Ooh,” Eddie lilts, plush lips softly pouted. “So you are obsessed with me?”

“Eight!”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “You love putting words in my mouth, don’t you?”

“Like I said,” the boy hums with a smug smile. “Just calling it like I see it, honey.”

“Seven!”

The dumb name shouldn’t make you melt like it does. You turn into a puddle before you can come up with another comeback. You forget how to form words and get lost in how soft his lips look, pink and delicate like a flower. God, he’s so pretty, you hate him.

“Six!” your friends continue to chant, the only sound in the expansive living room. “Five!”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, honestly,” the boy assures with an absentminded shrug, tilting his flushed cheek to his shoulder and flashing you an unkissed grin.

“Four!”

“You’re not the first girl to fall head over heels for me, and you won’t be the last.”

The corner of your lip curls into a quiet smirk. You squint at him, eyes twinkling with mischief and a sudden longing for him to eat his words. “Is that so?” you croon lowly.

“Three!”

He leans in like he’s about to tell you a secret. The nicotine-whiskey concoction on his breath brushes your cheek. Screw the alcohol in your abandoned cup — you’d sooner get drunk on him.

“I’ll make sure to let you down easy, alright? I promise,” Eddie hums with a feigned seriousness.

“Yeah?”

“Two!”

He nods, bushy brows pinching softly together and petaled mouth gently pouting. “Yeah. I’m not in the heartbreaking business, you know? I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, princess, but you should there’s no way in hell that I’m ever gonna—”

“One!” the house chants together, louder this time as they shout, “Happy New Year!”

You blink, and suddenly everyone’s grabbing onto somebody.

Robin and Vickie share a quiet peck you don’t miss in the corner of the room. Mike and El smack a more obvious kiss in the very center of it. A newly grown-up Dustin tries his chances with Nancy, glancing at her with a silent smile she shakes her head at — “Not a chance, kiddo,” she says with a soft pink grin. Even Max leans over to brush a kiss to Lucas’ cheek, right before scowling at him, “This doesn’t mean we’re back together, Sinclair.”

So you feel it’s only right, that in a room of kissed mouths, you get kissed, too.

Eddie is the perfect victim. Mostly because he hasn’t stopped yapping since he sat down beside you, some hours ago now. You reach for him, splaying your hand across his warm jaw (that grows somehow hotter beneath your touch), and pressing a kiss to his blabbering mouth.

You swallow all the half-hearted insults he spews at you because he thinks you really hate him. In Eddie’s mind, if being mean is how he gets closer to you, then when you go low, he’ll go all the way to hell.

You don’t kiss him like you hate him, though. You kiss him like you can taste stars in his mouth. Like the rest of your whole life is sitting on his tongue.

Your mouth locks with his for a moment, kissing the breath from his lungs, only to pull away a second later.

Eddie’s totally frozen when you’re gone. The loudmouth boy — who you decided to hate if you couldn’t love — is left so suddenly speechless. He blinks at you with heavy, velvet eyes and grieves a thing he didn’t even know he could have.

A grin pulls at your freshly kissed mouth. It feels good to have the upper hand again.

“You’re never gonna what?” you tease, tilting your head like you’re innocent.

His mouth parts for an answer. Nothing comes out.

Your smile widens. “That’s what I thought. Honey.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

1K notes · View notes

luvwestwood · 11 months ago

Text

"Off Limits" - Gojo Satoru

4,120 words.

warnings. n*sfw (18+), tongue piercing satoru, substance use, satoru is a plug, fuckboy! satoru, oral sex (he eats your pussy OUT) , both characters 🚬 🍃, resolved sexual tension, porn with a BIT of plot, mildly dubious consent, fucking at a party, he makes you squirt

notes. this was originally posted on my ao3, which is much more longer. i've shortened it down and fixed errors I made on ao3 originally (see if you could notice what it is 😭)for tumblr so its more of an easy read! <3

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

You had about an hour and half to get ready, before you had to make your way to the Mappa Frat House down the street. Chloe's brother, Satoru, and his friends were inviting you two to some house party they held every year building up to Halloween.

To be real, it took you A LOT of convincing for Chloe to have you come to the party with her. You were never a party person. The thought of throwing up your guts after your system has consumed all types of shit. Or the annoying guys that slap your ass from behind in hopes of getting time with you in the bedrooms upstairs.

You were the total opposite of Chloe, and honestly, you envied her. She was a social butterfly who could blend in with anyone if she needed to, and she was evidently liked by the other students of any clique out there.

Oh, and by party animal, I mean it. Dresses in every colour, length and pattern. Heels of every inch and style. She just knew what to do. Practically, if you got her to go to your party, that's how you'd know if it was a good fucking party.

Sitting in front of your desk finishing your makeup, which you were surprisingly good at, you giggle as you watch Chloe attached a lasso to her waist.

She had looked really cute in her Woody costume, and you were in fact, dressed as a sexy Buzz Lightyear. Earlier on at Ann Summers, Chloe was begging for you to match with her. You couldn’t refuse. It was a 2 for 1 sale anyway..

You smiled as she started to record a few tiktoks before hitting the road.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with this rope tonight."

"Mhm.." you let out a hum as you focus on doing your eyeliner. It was hard not to laugh at what she said, but you managed to suppress a giggle.

You lined some lashes with glue before placing them on your lash line. Your makeup was flawless tonight, and you were grateful because it had been quite some time since you've done a full glam. A bit of setting spray, and you spun your chair around to face Chloe.

It was as if she was a proud mother from what she was seeing in front of her. "Gorgeous! You look like a doll. A sexy one. Stand up really quickly, let's take a few pictures before heading out."

You stumbled a bit from the high heeled boots you were wearing, and you had to adjust the fabric your ass was practically eating as you stood up. You and Chloe took a few cute pictures before heading out to the Mappa House.

As you guys got there, it was already packed with all shit ton of people spread out on the front lawn doing all sorts of stuff.

The loud music from the inside could be heard from where you were standing. People were smoking, making out, doing keg stands.

Honestly, Chloe was right. You looked at a group of girls huddled and chatting near the door, and one caught your eye. The girl was wearing nothing but black tape on her boobs and underwear.

You nudge Chloe. “Chlo, what is she meant to be..?”

She giggled a bit before replying, “Who knows.”

You got a bit nervous as you walked on the path leading up to the main door. Spooky Halloween decorations were all over the House, and sometimes you were unable to tell what and what's not a decoration..

A man was standing just inside the door, it seemed like he was waiting for Chloe.

The guy dressed up as Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat. You'd never seen him before, and he looked a bit intimidating.

You heard Chloe call out to the man. "Kento!" ..So that's his name. You stood behind Chloe like a loser as she gave him a hug. She pulled away and stayed pressed up against him.

He smiled, "I'm glad you came. And who's this pretty girl?"

Kento turned to you as you looked at Chloe, she held you close to her too and gave you a proper introduction. "This is my best friend and room-mate, I convinced her to come along tonight!"

You returned the smile to him, he seemed like an okay guy. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Chloe winked at you, and you smirked, knowing what it meant. You gave her the look of approval as she took her lasso and tied it around Kento, pulling him to a room somewhere in the house.

You laughed as you made your way to the kitchen, after they disappeared up the stairs. How outrageous.

It was more quiet, which you liked. Making your way to the far end of the kitchen, you opened the fridge and scanned what's inside. You decided to take a small can of Pepsi. You sighed as you turned around, closing the fridge shut with your butt.

The presence of someone behind all along startled you, leaning against the island watching you this whole time.

"Oh my fuck. Why are you creeping up on people like that?"

It was a person, assumingly a guy, his face covered with a ghostface mask. He was dressed in all black. A simple black fitted tee and jeans. He had a fake knife strapped to his belt.

The mysterious guy took off his mask, and placed it on the counter behind him. Of course, It was Satoru, Chloe's brother.

You let out a labored sigh as you leaned against the fridge, unable to move.

"I'm surprised you showed up tonight, I thought you never will."

You slowly slid to the right trying to escape him, turning your back to face Satoru as you popped the can open on the counter. "...It was a last minute decision."

"Seems like you got a costume too, huh?" Eyes sliding down your body as he finished his sentence.

Your eyes widen, realising your ass was on show to him this whole time. I'll kill this man if he thinks I'm up to no good.

You quickly turn back around to face him with the front of your body, and it didn't do you any justice as he was just met with your almost exposed chest. Party in the front, party in the back.

"I'm not complaining, you look good." he reassured you, trailing his eyes down your body from head to toe.

"..Thanks." Quickly, you took a huge sip from the can as you looked at him. This drink will only un-calm my nerves.

"I'm actually not into parties myself either." he spoke, and you almost choked on your drink.

"You? THE Satoru Gojo? I wasn't expecting that."

"No, I just like more intimate parties. Big ones like these annoy me. I don't know and don't care about 3/4 of the people who are here."

He continued, “You wanna come with? I’m going upstairs. There’s one last free room. And that’s the master room.”

Chloe was already busy, and there wasn’t really anyone else you could talk to around here. You had no choice.

”Hmm, okay. I’ll follow.”

He made sure to grab his mask from the counter, and the two of you left the kitchen.

As you made your way up the stairs, you could feel other girls eyes piercing through your back like daggers. Luckily, they couldn’t recognise you that easily.

By the time you set foot on the upstairs landing, you called out to him. "Satoru," you continued, "Who's room is this even?"

"Suguru’s, but it's cool. He won't give a fuck."

You followed behind him for a bit until you reached the master bedroom.

”Lock the door if you don’t want people coming into this room eating each other’s faces off.”

You blankly stared at him for a bit before turning back around to twist the lock. The music from downstairs turned faint and so did the chatter.

For a frat house, Suguru’s room was actually clean, you expected dirty plates and what-ever-the-fuck to litter the rest of the room, but the only exception was the clothes scattered on the ground. You watched and sat yourself down on the bed as he rummaged through the drawers for something. Is he… reaching for a..

He picked up a lighter from deep inside the drawer, taking a joint out that was untouched from the same drawer, but kept away in a tiny zip bag. Phew.

”You smoke?”

You looked at him. “What do you think?”

”I’m guessing no.” You didn't know if you were to be butthurt by his quick and certain answer, but you don't see a reason why you should be anyways. His words went a bit quiet as he concentrated on sparking the joint between his fingers.

He took a hit from the joint as soon as it was burning perfectly. “Damn, that shits good.”

”Is Suguru not gonna be pissed if he finds out you took that..?” You questioned him.

”..Who do you think sold this stuff to him?” He flashed his famous smile as he saw the priceless look on your face.

You chewed on your lip and looked at the ground. “Oh, right.. yeah.”

You forgot that Satoru was basically the one who sold 🍃 on and off the campus.

He walked over to you, and sat beside you on the edge of the bed. “You don’t wanna try?”

Satoru took another hit before blowing the smoke out on his right side, making sure it doesn’t hit your face.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, plus I’m scared.” You continued, “More scared I’ll start coughing like a bitch that I’d make a fool out of myself.”

Even though the only source of light came from the bedside lamp, you could still see that his eyes were glossy, and at this point a tiny bit bloodshot. “I could teach you, here.”

He held out the joint towards you, the smell was so strong it was probably sticking to your clothes by now.

”Quick, it’s burning away for no reason.”

You held the joint between your fingers like a cigarette, and looked at him for assurance.

”No, not like that.” He took your fingers and placed it properly between your pointer and thumb. “You look like a loser if you hold it like a cigarette.”

”Okay, what now.”

”Do it, take a hit.”

You stared at it before bringing it to your lips. Satoru spoke from beside you.

”Like, almost as if you’re sucking. Make sure it really gets to here.” He points to his chest.

You slightly squint your eyes as you take a mistakingly big hit.

”Now hold it for a bit, then exhale. It’s gonna hit better.”

The joint left your lips as you held it for like two seconds, and you let out a laboured exhale.

“Good girl, see? No coughing.”

You passed it back to him and Satoru takes another hit.

”..How’d I know if it hit me?”

He smirked, “You’ll just know. Don’t worry, I got you.”

All of a sudden, it felt like everything slowed down and your face was being grabbed to the ground.

You felt a bit relaxed knowing that Satoru was beside you, and you managed to take a hit without embarrassing yourself and going all snotty.

Unwillingly, you take the joint back from his hand to take another hit.

”What happened to Ms. I don’t smoke?”

You rolled your eyes before you passed it back to him again.

Satoru smiled at your reaction before speaking again. “You wanna play a game?”

Stomach churning, and not really liking where this is going, you answered. “..like what?”

”I ask you a couple questions and you answer, then you do the same to me.”

You snickered. “Isn’t that just called ‘getting to know each other’?”

”Yeah, I just wanted to make it sound more interesting.”

“Okay, why not.”

“How about, if you refuse to answer a question you take off one piece of clothing.”

You looked at him with a , ‘nice try’ face. ”Nuh uh. Not happening. Just ask the questions.”

”Aww, it was worth a shot.”

“Start asking questions or I’ll change my mind,” you changed your position on the bed to lie down on your stomach. It was more comfortable than stiffly sitting on the edge of the bed.

”You ever had a boyfriend?”

”Once. But I was like sixteen.”

Satoru just nods. “Your turn.”

“Did getting your tongue piercing hurt?”

He turned to you and smirked, “I’m surprised you noticed it. But nahh. Not really, it was just the healing process that hurted.”

Your face slightly grew warm, “…Yeah, I noticed it yesterday.”

He just smiles, and asks his second question. “You ever gotten your pussy ate before?”

You swallowed your spit as you propped yourself up slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

”You heard me.” He takes another hit of the joint even though it’s almost shrunken to the smallest it can be.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “…No.”

”…Good.” Satoru muttered, but you couldn’t really hear.

It was your turn to ask question again.

”..Why’d you want to get it pierced anyways?”

”Dunno. Why’d you think?”

Silence and tension grew between the two of you. You didn’t know if the naughty answer that crossed your mind was right or wrong.

You didn’t know if it was the temperature of the room or the shit you smoked. You avoided answering his question.

”…Y-your turn to ask the question.”

His next question came out immediately.

“..Wanna see for yourself?”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You didn’t know what to say. And you didn’t know what he meant.

”Is that a question you’re using up or are you just saying that… as a joke..”

Satoru stood up and walked over to the dresser, placing his costume props on top. In fact, he took everything out of his pockets and placed it on the dresser.

You watched him glance at his phone for a bit, reading all the messages from his other homies before placing it down on the dresser and not replying.

A pool was forming between your legs, and you gently clamped them together while still lying down.

You’d be lying if you said you totally didn’t want to strip everything off and be naked by the time he turns back around. But you kept your composure.

Satoru turned back around, walking back to the bed. He sat on the same edge he was on a few minutes ago.

”And what if I do wanna find out,” You spoke, testing the waters.

His voice was laced with honesty. “I don’t want to push you out of your boundaries, we don’t have to do this. We can forget that this happened and my sister won’t ever know I was near you.”

A few thoughts were racing through your mind. I mean, Chloe was busy, you literally had weed in your system and you never thought you would’ve. There’s a first for everything, right?

You gently crawled over across the bed, closer to him. “…No, I do want you to show me.” Your voice trailed off quietly, you grew shy as you drew back.

He turned his head behind to face you, and was able to see the sincerity in your eyes. Not gonna lie, he was very attractive. And I was literally begging to have his head between my legs.

You came closer to him again, and found yourself placing your lips on his first. The two of you melted into each other, with the lingering sexual tension finally resolved.

The good girl act no longer existed, and time around you felt like it had stopped. This was something you needed, and you finally got it.

He was extremely gentle with his hands, and softly guided you to move back further onto the bed, placing your head down on the pillow.

You slightly squirmed as he placed his knee between your legs. He pulled away from your neck before looking at you from above, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Just relax doll, I’ll take care of everything.” He left you with a peck on the lips as he slowly peppered a trail of kisses down your body, going lower and lower.

Your breath hitched as he cupped both of his hands around each of your thighs, kissing your inner thigh as he looked up at you in between.

His hands were cold, and caused your nipples to harden from his touch. But the heat of your body cause him to warm up in no time. He paused for a moment. “Can I?” Satoru points to your tiny shorts before you responded with a nod. You slid them off and threw them somewhere in the room. You’ll find those later.

You watched as he used his teeth to teasingly slide your thong off your body, down your legs. You grew goosebumps from the feeling of the fabric slowly gliding down your skin.

It was painfully slow, but it made you want him even more. He knew what he was doing, and for your first time getting eaten out, it was like winning the lottery if Satoru was the one doing it.

He took them from his mouth, and placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before kissing past your inner thigh, Satoru placed a wet kiss on your throbbing clit before doing a few small licks with his tongue.

The mixture between the metal of his piercing and tongue made you shudder, causing you to whine and clamp your thighs around his head gently.

You felt Satoru's soft hands grip slightly your skin firmer, spreading your legs more apart and keeping them wide open for him. You were expecting his hands to be cold, but surprisingly your skin was met with his warm touch. He sucked on your clit gently, before lapping at it again hungrily.

Your two hands were occupied themselves, one grabbed onto his hair and the other clutched onto the sheets beside you. He only pushed his tongue deeper into you, basically gently fucking your hole with it.

Practically losing your mind from how good Satoru made you feel, you could tell he was enjoying every single noise and reaction you made. You felt the way he smiled against your dripping cunt as he cycled from sucking to licking.

”…Don’t.. stop..” you continued, in short breaths. “…Please”

He hummed gently with his eyes closed, his lips glossed with his spit and the juices from your pussy, and the sound of someone’s phone ringing echoed in your ears, releasing you from your trance.

You looked down at him annoyed as he hauled his head up from your legs. “Not my phone, mines silent on the dresser.”

You turned to the far end of the bed to your left and saw your phone screen was flashing. Reaching for it, you saw Chloe was the one calling.

Turning the phone screen for Satoru to see, he squinted his eyes a bit to read who the caller was. “You can answer,”

Before answering the call you laughed a bit, as you saw how ridiculous you made him look after grabbing his hair.

”Chloe?” You watched Satoru as he tried to listen in on the conversation.

He whispered, “Put it on speaker.”

You nodded, and Chloe could be heard on the other line speaking.

”Hey girl, just checking on you. You okay?” You heard her and Kento giggle as she tried to speak over the phone. But it was a bit louder around her, so that means they were with a bunch of other people now.

”Yeah, I’m…” Your eyes widen and flutter as felt as Satoru placed his head back down between your thighs, slowly and slightly lapping at your clit again with the cold metal orb on his tongue causing you to throb again.

You felt as he carelessly swirled his tongue around like there’s no tomorrow, but this time he let one of your legs go and thrusted a finger in and out of your hole, emitting a squelching noise as he continuously sucked, stimulating you like crazy.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

”Heyyy, you there?”

You were unable to answer as your own words became nothing but breathy as you try to form a sentence.

”…Y-Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m in the…b-bathroom.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your inner thigh for a second time as he heard your little lie over the phone.

You furrow your brows, making an “O” shape with your mouth.

Your hand holding the phone fell flat onto the bed, and by now you were no longer listening to whatever Chloe was saying on the other side of the line. Your mind was clouded, and the knot in your stomach tightened as you felt an orgasm approaching.

Lucky for you, Chloe ended the call less than ten seconds ago as it seems like she was busy with something else. Hopefully Kento.

He felt the way you quivered even more than last time, and held one of your legs over his left shoulder as he thrusted another finger in, still lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt as your breathing quickened, becoming irregular.

”Cum all over my face,” He murmured against your warm lips, and that did it for you. You liked the way he was gentle with his hands, slowly using one to rub your thigh on his left shoulder. He was deep in there, and he ate your pussy like it was a five course meal.

You watched as him as you rode out your orgasm, your head falling back against the pillow. Your mind was all over the place as you endlessly squirted all over his fingers that curled inside of you to aid your high, and felt as you slightly pushed your body more towards him.

“S-shit..” Was all you could say. You saw the way the piercing was exposed for a split second as he stuck his tongue out, the juices from your release dripping all over his mouth.

As he gently pulled away from between your legs, a ‘pop’ noise was heard after he gave your clit one last suck.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face was soaking wet. Luckily it didn’t go past his above nose. Or he’d be partially blind for the rest of the night.

The neck of his shirt managed to be slightly soaked with splatters from your juices. But he didn’t care.

“..You got a little something on your face..” You say, pointing to your mouth with your finger to tell him where it was.

He smiled, and you watched as he used his tongue to wipe the corners of his mouth, but took a random towel hanging off the door to wipe the rest off his cheek.

“Damn, Suguru’s gonna be pissed when he sees how soaked his sheets are.” Satoru laughed as he looked at you still with your legs spread out, trying to recover.

No can do, the towel that was previously used by Satoru was passed to you after.

The wet circle underneath you had expanded from soaking into the sheets for too long. Satoru grabs your shorts that landed just in front of the door and tossed them back to you, but as he walked away a knock could be heard.

It was Suguru, of course it was. “Yo, whoever’s in there is cheeky enough to lock my own damn door!”

You quickly slid on your shorts as you turned to the body mirror beside you, combing your hair with your fingers.

Honestly, you were a bit upset that your fun was cut short. But you couldn’t stay for too long or eventually someone would break the door down.

“Man shut the hell up, it’s me, Satoru. I’m in here.” He responded. You watched him in the mirror as he slowly came up behind you, turning you around and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. Making sure you knew he didn’t just want to leave you hanging like that. That you weren’t just a toy to him.

The two of you walked to the door, twisting the lock to it. “Here, you go out first. I’m right behind you.”

You nod as you left the room, and shyly smiled at Suguru on your way out who was dumbfounded, followed by Satoru behind you.

And of course, Suguru couldn’t help but notice your pink thong that was still hanging off Satoru’s back pocket.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto suguru #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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bleedingoptimism · 11 months ago

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They hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator as they walk inside the very luxurious building and Robin grabs Steve’s hand and makes them run to the door yelling, “Hold! Please!”

A hand covered in rings and with short nails painted black appears from inside and holds the door for them. They get in as Robin breathes out little ‘thank yous’ under her breath and Steve smiles at the gentleman who helped them. His brows go up a little at how handsome the man is. He’s wearing black dress pants and a black silk shirt under an also black suit jacket. The whole look is expensive and the man wears it very well. With his long curly hair tied at the back of his neck, plus the rings, the nails, and the surprising amount of piercings in his ears, he looks like a rockstar. He has a cute nose and full lips that look very enticing and big beautiful brown eyes that are looking back at him.

Steve smiles once more and nods politely figuring he should stop staring. They have to go up like a billion floors or something so this is going to be a long elevator ride. Probably shouldn’t make their traveling companion uncomfortable.

He distracts himself by looking at Robin, fixing her hair behind her ear. She looks great. Slack pants and a tight dress shirt in grey tones with black suspenders adorned with metal cufflinks. Short hair loose and just the right amount of disheveled and a graphic eyeliner so sharp it could cut you. He would know. He did her makeup. They were asked to dress party chick but professional, which neither of them knew what the hell meant but Steve is pretty sure Robin nailed it. He just hopes he did a good job too.

He’s wearing a white thigh shirt of a soft material he couldn’t for the life of him remember the name of and black dress pants, the ones that fit him like a second skin, paired with a big leather belt, just to add a little extra. He tries to inconspicuously check himself out in the mirrors of the elevator but accidentally meets eyes with the well-dressed man again. Who adverts his gaze quickly and Steve realizes he just caught him checking him out. He smiles to himself and looks down bashfully only to be horrified by what he notices because, his white shirt? The stupid fabric he can’t name? Totally sheer. Well not totally, but a little. Like he can see his nipples right now a little.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

“Robin, we need to go.” he suddenly says grabbing Robin by the back of the elbow.

Robin turns to him previously just nervously watching the floor numbers change and frowns worried, “What? We are already here, Steve! What do mean?”

“I need to go home and change Robin! I can’t-” He whispers to her, although he knows it’s in vain, there’s no way the handsome man isn’t about to hear a very embarrassing conversation.

“We are literally in the elevator. We are not going back home so you can change!” Robin huffs annoyed now that she knows it wasn’t anything more serious, “What’s wrong with your clothes?” she asks pinching his shirt between her fingers.

Steve turns his back to the man and crowds Robin, facing her, “Can you see my nipples?” he asks trying to keep his voice low but he hears a cough that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle behind him.

Robin looks at him like he’s lost his mind but, as always she goes with it, “Yes?”

Steve puts his palms over them and gasps and Robin starts laughing “What are you doing?” she says between giggles at the same time Steve exclaims, “I can’t show our new boss my nipples!”

“Steve, what?! I thought it was on purpose! You know, just a peek, a little chess hair, a little nipple.” Robin says still laughing but stops when she sees Steve is looking actually distressed.

She huffs and runs her hands up and down his arms comfortingly.

“Why would I want to show them my nipples!” Steve groans and Robin shrugs.

“It’s sexy? We were asked to dress for a party”

“Why would I want to look sexy for work?” Steve asks again, still trying to convince Robin to let him go home and change.

But Robin tilts her head to the side, “But you can’t turn that off, though? Like, you are always sexy.”

Instantly his mood changes and he smiles and coos at her, “Aww, that’s so sweet, babe! But you are biased…”

Robin scoffs at being babied and raises an eyebrow, “How am I biased?”

“Because you love me!” Steve answers like it’s obvious. And Robin nods as if taking in the information.

“Okay. I see your biases and I raise you the following point: It’s objective. Because I’m a lesbian.”

Steve laughs, but he’s not the only one. For a second, Steve had forgotten they had an audience member. A very handsome audience member. He blushes, the guy must think he’s such an idiot. But at least he thinks they are funny. He turns back to his side and smiles at him again.

But Robin suddenly jumps a little beside him, like she had just noticed him, and says, “Stranger! Opinion?”

“Rob, no-” Steve starts but Robin leans over him to talk to the man, “Shirt. Good? Bad?” She says moving her hands in front of Steve as if she was showcasing him. Steve blushes some more and tries to keep a neutral face. So he ends up just white-man smiling awkwardly.

The man chuckles again and then looks at Steve from top to bottom and back again, “You look good,” he says smirking.

And Steve's blush deepens. But Robin either doesn’t notice or is enjoying it, because she keeps questioning him, “Good. What are thinking? Slutty or sexy?”

The man leans his head to the side, his eyes roaming over Steve's chest and Steve has to resist the urge to cover his nipples again.

“It’s sexy.” he says, voice deep and serious as if this was an important conversation and not Robin and Steve being dumbasses, “Like, sophisticated sexy.”

Steve shakes himself to try to make his blush go away and addresses the man, “I- well, thank you, first. And second, I’m sorry you were dragged into this. But would you want to look sexy meeting your new boss?” he asks him.

He taps his chin in thought and then says, “Your friend is right though, are already here. Just don’t flirt with them and you'll be fine!”

At that Steve purses lips and Robin snorts rudely. “That might be a problem,” she says.

The man laughs surprised and Steve can’t help but think he has a really nice laugh, “How?” he asks them.

“Steve has a little miscommunication problem,” Robin explains, “When he tries to be charming people think he's flirting.”

Steve crosses his arms and huffs making the few locks that fall on his forehead lift a bit and fall back down, “I have no idea what I’m doing wrong! I’m just trying to be nice..”

The man is looking at him with raised eyebrows and he blinks a couple of times before snickering, “Looks like your friend is right, again. You just can’t turn sexy off, uh?”

Robin laughs really hard at that and Steve goes back to full tomato status.

“I could've tried!” he says, not even sure what are they arguing about anymore.

“How?” Robin asks him amused.

“I don’t know, a big sweater? Something knitted, comfy?” he tries but they both shake their head at him.

“That sounds sexy too,” The man says and Steve frowns,

“Literally. How?”

“It gives off fuck vibes. Like you are really fuckable,” he says, and then his eyes go wide and he bites his lips.

Robin’s eyes go wide too and she snorts, looking at Steve who is just staring at the guy with his mouth hanging slightly open.

“Sorry!” the man says, raising his hands in mock surrender, “That was so out of line- I- oh! Saved by the bell it seems,” he says when the elevator dings, “This is my floor”

The doors open and Argyle and Jon are on the other side and Steve realizes, this is also their floor.

“Eddie!” Argyle says as the man moves towards him and they shake hands enthusiastically.

“Steve, Robin” Jon greets them with a smile as they slowly walk out of the elevator, watching Eddie’s deer-in-the-headlights expression.

“Ah! I hope you had a pleasant elevator ride and didn’t do anything awkward!” Argyle jokes completely oblivious, “I’m a little sad I didn’t get to introduce you guys!”

“...What do you mean?” Robin asks with a forced smile.

“Steve, Robin: This Eddie Munson!” Argyle says moving behind Steve and Robin and hugging them by the shoulders so they stand directly in front of Eddie, “Your new boss!”

#stranger things #steddie #meet cute #but awkward #kinda #i wrote something #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve is bringing sexy back (yeah)#eddie doesnt know how to act (yeah)

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slut4sugu · 1 year ago

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𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌— RODRICK HEFFLEY X BLACK!READER

ʚ 🍓ɞ including + warnings: rodrick being a nervous boyfriend, black!reader, toothrotting fluff, suggestive themes ʚ 🍓ɞ summary: what it’s like dating Rodrick heffley <3

next in the Rodrick series .

ʚ 🍓ɞ FIRST WEEKS DATING

HELLA SHYYY, despite putting up a ridiculous cool persona when it comes to being around you and your sweet smile all by himself he crumbles

Is scared to indulge in pda or physical intact with you because he’s afraid of coming off as clingy, but once you sit him down and let him know that you’re just as clingy if not more than he is, he starts to loosen up a little

constantly falls asleep with his head in your shoulder whenever around you and he gets tired

Starts looking out for you first in a crowd and gets visibly upset when he can’t reach you

Walks you to and from class no matter if he misses the bell or if your class is on the opposite side of the school. He values every minute he has with you <33

Thinks about giving you goodbye kisses all the time and almost did it once but chickened out and you thought it was adorable

Sends you hella couple TikTok’s late at night

Loves when you squeeze him when you hug, it makes his heart race

Adores all your protective styles but after you sent him a picture of your hair after wash day he was inlove

Damn near fainted when you called him baby on FaceTime late at night

It was 10pm and you were listening to Rodrick recount his day of tormenting Gregory as usual, you were growing sleepy as you listened to his voice lull you to sleep. “He’s such a little shrimp I swear- are you getting tired?” You shook your head no and said, “I’m still up baby.” You giggled as you saw your boyfriends face grow flushed, “You okay? Babyy?” You always got a kick out of seeing Rodrick lose his cool and this moment was just too precious, “Mhm! Y-yeah I’m great, totally fine.”

When he saw you the next day he was determined to make you just as embarrassed, but despite his best efforts when he called you doll all you did was giggle and call him cute after pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Rodrick once left a shirt at your place when he snuck over one time and saw you in it on FaceTime without a bra on he damn near drooled.

ʚ 🍓ɞ FIRST COUPLE MONTHS

Starts to get more comfy, cuddles with you when you’re alone and rests his head on your chest with his arms wrapped around your torso

Play with his hair and he’s like mush on top of you

Can’t get enough of hearing you sing, he loves it when you hum a song mindlessly in his presence, he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

Calls you bunny/bun or pinky pie

Walked in on you in just a bra and shorts one time, you didn’t see him again for another 6 minutes.

Had your first kiss in an empty hallway at school, you kissed him first<33

Whenever you do your makeup he insists on watching especially if you wear eyeliner, he’ll sit on your bed like a lost puppy as he watches his pretty girl in adoration.

Kisses you again at his house after he saw you cry over a Disney movie, he called you pretty and held you close to his chest until you had to leave.

Listens to old school music with you late at night over the phone

Said I love you for the first time out of nowhere on the phone, you were so starstruck he came over to say it to your face. He got in trouble for it later but he didn’t care, hearing you say it back was more important.

You have your first makeout session in your bedroom when you were supposed to be studying, the v neck shirt you were wearing complimented your double d’s and showed off the chain that held Rodrick favorite ring he gifted you. You looked so effortlessly pretty, so when you gave him a kiss for getting a question right he went in for another..and another..until your lipliner was smudged and you sat breathless on his lap.

Surprise bear hugs from behind when he misses you

Kisses your neck and messes with your hands when he wants attention

Your voice, your touch, your smile has Rodrick in a choke hold and hopefully the promise ring he’s saving up for with his mom bucks will show you how much he truly loves you <33

#rodrick heffley x black!reader #rodrick heffley x fem!reader #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick fanfic #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick x y/n #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x female Reader #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months ago

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this isn’t exactly a question, but has twisted wonderland ever expanded on gender norms before? I know in sunset savanna women seem to be highly respected, but it seems like that is a behavior unique to sunset savanna. It seems like gender discrimination might be uncommon in briar valley because Mallenoa was so respected by her subjects, but Sebek, silver, and grim were surprised to find out she was so self sufficient and powerful when they met her in Lilia’s dream (this is more my interpretation tho) . in the endless night event, silver tells a story about a warrior who taught for her country, which is a reference to mulan i think, and the person he is telling the story to is very surprised that the strong warrior is a girl. I think silver told that story to Leona but I don’t remember. I’ve heard that royal sword academy is a school boys and girls can both attend, but night raven college is one of the most prestigious magic schools out there, so it being boys only makes me wonder if gender is a part of magic politics, although we have been shown female characters who have high educations and magical abilities such as Mrs . Rosehearts

No, not really? It’s explicitly mentioned and touched upon in extended conversations maybe a total of… 3ish times. Of those instances, most are referring to the Sunset Savanna.

Gender norms and politics are some of those elements of world-building that can come off as really ham-fisted and preachy if the characters stop everything altogether and just start expositing about it. Thankfully, TWST largely doesn’t take that “telling” route and instead “shows” us what they mean through subtle implications.

Now, for the most part I think the gender norms of Twisted Wonderland are similar to the real world, but may be more progressive overall.

For one, Twisted Wonderland has many male characters (both in NRC and beyond it) who openly wear cosmetics. No one ever comments on men wearing makeup or dressing up in a negative light. Sometimes they complain about putting makeup on (ie the effort) or certain fashions they don’t vibe with but never do they say it’s “not manly” for them to put on makeup/perfume/jewelry, care about their clothing, etc. Even the characters we traditionally think of as masculine (Jack, Leona, etc.) wear eyeliner and eyeshadow, jewelry, or try new styles of clothing. Floyd and Ace express interest in fashion. Jamil cares about the quality of textiles and Kalim is willing to buy tons of jewelry for himself (and his classmates!!) if the mood strikes him. Rook regularly compliments people’s looks and Cater has an eye for aesthetics too. Lilia brags that he is “cute” and likes to show off his cuteness to others. And, of course, we cannot forget our queen Vil, who champions the idea of challenging and redefining gender norms. He also shares these ideals with Epel, who has been called out by Vil for having “outdated” gender norms. Given that Vil is such a popular celebrity (5 million followers on Magicam), I get the impression that the sentiments he extols is a popular way of thinking and is the direction that TWST society wants to move toward. (This is assuming that his fans are mainly younger people.) The boys often “dress up” and wear different makeup when visiting new places such as Silk City and and Clock Town, so it appears that a lot of Twisted Wonderland society that we’ve explored leans more liberal when to comes to gender expression.

Another detail I think is important is that many of the Great Seven—in fact, over half of them—are women. This is notable because oftentimes history glosses over the achievements and accomplishments of women in favor of their male peers. The fact that NRC and all of Twisted Wonderland seems to honor them in addition to their male counterparts says something. The G7 women aren’t even the only instance of female figures who shaped history. Azul and Floyd, for example, have brought up the Mermaid Princess on multiple occasions, talking about how her union with a human prince and personal efforts have strengthened the bond between land and sea.

Gendered terms to refer to mages exist, but according to Lilia, “witches” and “wizards” are outdated (they were used during the human/fae war era of ~400 years ago). Currently, most prefer to use the gender neutral terms “mage” or sometimes “sorcerer”.

There does not appear to be gender restrictions in terms of the modern day workforce either. We know of the boys’ family members who are great mages or hold significant power or status. Mrs. Rosehearts is an accomplished medical mage, Mrs. Ashengrotto runs the most popular restaurant in the Coral Sea and his grandmother is a benefactor to those in the neighborhood, Mrs. Shroud is STYX’s Chief Engineer, Meleanor is an integral leader of Briarland’s military forces, Maleficia is queen, etc. Even the women in more mundane roles play vital parts in their communities: Mrs. Clover is a baker alongside her husband, Mrs. Zigvolt assists her husband in his dental clinic, Granny Bucchi supports him as his only relative, Marja travels and helps sell her family’s produce, etc. There are many economic opportunities for women in this world.

Some may point out that NRC is a prestigious all-boys school, so there aren’t opportunities for women in education. The same goes for RSA, which is another prestigious all/ boys school. To that, I say… that’s because NRC is a very limited scope of magic education as a whole. We don’t know how many other schools are out there or if all magic schools are boys only. It’s not impossible to think that there may be girls only or mixed schools out there—but the NRC cast are the ones this game focuses on, so we view things from that perspective. I’d also like to add that we only see male students from other schools because of meta reasons: 1) there are limited game assets, so some details are inaccurately conveyed by the live 2D models, and 2) this is a joseimuke, a game with a predominantly male cast aimed at a target audience of women. It makes sense that there wouldn’t be many live 2D assets for random female mobs.

There isn’t any lore in-game or in other official materials which would imply that women are discriminated against in education or in the workforce. However, Twisted Wonderland at large seems to still perpetuate gender expectations and gendered traits as we understand them irl. There are some instances when the idea of women having traditionally feminine interests are mentioned: (Suitor Suit) Ace complains that his ex only liked romance and animal movies, disliked thrill rides, and preferred cute things and taking Magicam pics; (Birthday Boy) Cater also mentions his mother and older sisters having interests in making sweets and cute things. Additionally, as Anon mentions, in Endless Halloween Night, Silver shares the story of Mulan, who pretended to be a man to save her father from enlisting in the army. He told this tale to Jamil (not Leona!), who reacts with surprise when he learns that this capable warrior is a woman. At the same time, there are “masculine” expectations vaguely alluded to: Deuce states he is the “man” of his household, Epel of course worries about his manliness and sees Savanaclaw, the athletic dorm, as “cool”, etc.

Of course, these gender norms are not pervasive nor are they the same everywhere in Twisted Wonderland. One extreme is demonstrated through Epel, who holds the most regressive beliefs prior to Vil’s influence. This leads me to believe that Harveston is one of these areas that perpetuates these beliefs—and when you think about its population, it makes sense. Epel tells us that his hometown is largely elderly people, who are more likely to hold conservative worldviews compared to young people. The community, being small and located pretty far from nearby urban centers, is also exposed to fewer ideas that differ from what they perceive as their “norm”. These factors will naturally shape its residents and inform how they interact with and perceive others.

I actually think that Briar Valley would also be one of those areas with regressive gender norms for similar in-universe reasons as Harveston. Briar Valley is described to us as a region mainly populated by long-lived fae… meaning they are pretty old and more likely to be conservative. Not only that, but the area is very isolated and fae in general prefer to keep to their own kind. Briar Valley is also said to be opposed to change and new ideas and technology being introduced to their land. All of these factors suggest they would have more old-fashioned ideas about gender, not progressive ones. Meleanor and Maleficia may be widely respected and viewed as capable women, but I do not think it is fair to extrapolate how magically gifted monarchs of the Draconia bloodline are viewed to the governed population. It is more likely that they are the exception, not the rule. This better explains why Sebek and Silver, who are technically subjects of Briar Valley, are surprised to learn of a powerful princess. Their shock, as well as how Lilia describes human princesses as being meek and needing protection, also implies the usual gender norms. Given that humans seem to be the majority race in Twisted Wonderland, it means those gender expectations were predominant at the time.

The Sunset Savanna is the only country we know of at the moment where women are noted to be viewed differently. According to Leona, he “respects women” since the women back in his home country are physically stronger and stronger-willed than men. (This may be a reference to how irl lionesses do most of the hunting.) It’s not uncommon to see women in high-ranking warrior or guard positions because of this. This implies that the gender roles are somewhat reversed here; women are the ones expected to be strong, not men.

Slight tangent here: I don’t particularly subscribe to the idea that “strong” women are somehow better or more deserving of praise than “weak” women. It’s a fallacy that I see perpetuated way too often in media. True feminism does not mean demonizing what is seen as traditionally “feminine”, nor does it mean women can only be independent or strong by acting in traditionally “masculine” ways. Feminism means not judging or holding back women from pursuing whatever it is they want to do, be it a career of their own, homemaking, or anything in between. Women can be strong and admirable no matter what they choose to do with their lives.

Okay, so Twisted Wonderland does operate on gender norms—but that does NOT inherently mean that Twisted Wonderland is a sexist hellscape. Gender discrimination is on a spectrum, and we’ve yet to see any blatantly regressive demands be taken as anything of real merit in TWST. If anything, they get clowned on and told off as much as Sebek is for his anti-human sentiments. And, as I’ve pointed out earlier, Twisted Wonderland on the whole appears to accept and normalizes things that may not be widely accepted irl— namely, men in makeup or in traditionally feminine fashion. There’s also many examples we can look to of regular women in power or jobs across the world of Twisted Wonderland.

We also need to remember that TWST was penned by people who also live in a society of gender norms, so it’s expected for their lived experiences to also bleed into the worlds they create. It doesn’t make them bad people, it just makes them human. They write what they know and also play around with the ideas of different societies—those that skew in both directions (as we see with Harveston vs Sunset Savanna).

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