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skbeaumont · 7 months ago

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Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 2: Same time next week?

Series masterlist Chapter 1 here

Chp. 2 summary: Your first tutoring session with Sarah goes as expected, until Joel gets home and sends your head spinning. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/Warnings: flirting, sexual tension, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU no outbreak Word Count: 2.4k A/N: Blown away by the response to my posts so far, thank you all so much! This story will be updated every Friday unless otherwise specified. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this and others.

Taglist: @mysterialee

The next couple of days pass by in a flurry of jetlag. The Adlers are nice: Easy to get on with, friendly but not in a way that makes you feel like you’re living on top of them. Connie’s cooking is good, if a little repetitive, and Danny is sweet and makes you laugh, telling you stories about his youth living in Austin. Nana doesn’t speak, but she has your mum’s eyes, and you spend the evenings sitting by her in the living room, reading the stack of novels you brought with you, enjoying the easy company and warm sunlight.

You see Joel outside through the window one early morning, casually ask Connie about him as you watch him load toolboxes and ladders into the bed of his truck. One kid, Sarah, a brother who lives with him, most of the time, no wife. This last shouldn’t send a spike of something like excitement down the back of your spine, but it does. You’d just assumed he was married when he’d told you about Sarah – no wedding ring, but working in construction, that made sense.

The knowledge that there isn’t a Mrs Miller makes you re-evaluate the car journey back from the airport, the way he’d let his arm rest along the back of your seat, that teasing, mischievous glint in his eye as he’d said goodbye, promising to take you up on your offer of maths lessons for Sarah. Those thoughts keep you up late that night, pressing your thighs together beneath the thin cotton top sheet in the Adler’s guest room.

Early Sunday evening you bump into Sarah in the driveway when you get back from Walmart, equipped with a new US sim card for your mobile. She’s sweet, even prettier in real life than in the photo you saw, not at all shy like you were when you were her age.

“Dad said you’re good at math,” she says without preamble, appearing from the side of Joel’s truck, looking at you with a sideways expression that’s a mix of consideration and incredulity.

“Pretty good, yeah.” You reply, stomach jolting at the thought of Joel talking about you, even if it’s to say something as benign as how talented you are at maths. “I’d be happy to help you out with homework, or whatever, if you want. I promise I’ll try not to make it too boring.”

Sarah smiles at this, the incredulity in her face morphing into approval, or as close to approval a thirteen year old can manage.

“You coming, Sarah?” Joel says, stepping out of the front door, head down as he examines something on the phone he’s holding. “Oh,” he says, looking up and seeing you, “hey.”

“Hi.”

He’s dressed the same as he was when he picked you up from the airport; dark t-shirt over faded jeans, the knees a little worn, but he’s wearing a baseball cap today, pulling his messy curls back from his forehead. You feel a blush inching up your neck as he so obviously tries to avoid checking you out in the tiny shorts you pulled on that morning.

“How are you settling in?” He asks, moving to stand next to Sarah by the truck.

He crosses his arms against his chest and the movement draws your eyes to his biceps, struggling against the tight sleeves of his tee. There’s a thin slither of a tan line just above where his shirt naturally falls, paler skin peeking out. It makes your head swim.

You clear you throat, refocus your eyes on his face.

“Good, I think. It’s a big change, but it’s nice. Hot, though.”

“Texan summers.” He replies, “Take a bit of getting used to if you ain’t suffered through one before.”

“I’ll say.”

“Sarah’s keen on those lessons, by the way.” He puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, shakes her about so that she giggles. “Here,” He pulls out his mobile. “You got a US number yet?”

“Just picked up a new sim, actually” You pull your own mobile out, read off your number to him so that he can put it into his phone.

“I’ll text you later on,” He says, “we’re just heading out now.”

You say your goodbyes and leave the sweltering heat of the driveway, listening to Joel’s truck start up and pull off. Inside, Mercy greets you, rests her head on your knee as you collapse onto the sofa, clutching your mobile to your chest.

True to his word, Joel texts later that evening as you’re getting ready for bed.

Glad ur settling in ok. Would Tuesday work for math with Sarah? She gets back from school around 4. Joel.

You type out several draft replies before finally sending one that matches his straight-to-the-point tone.

Thanks. Tuesday works for me. See you then.

His response doesn’t arrive until the next morning, and when it does, your stomach sinks.

Sounds great. Will just be Sarah though, I’m working late Tuesday.

It’s almost embarrassing how disappointed you are by those last four words. In your head, it had been you, Sarah and Joel around their kitchen table, Joel’s toned forearms resting on warped wood, his deep chuckle in your ear as you worked through maths problems with Sarah. This makes you feel guilty, of course, because the whole point of this exercise is helping Sarah with her maths homework, not flirting with her father.

You fall back against the pillows of your bed. Around you, the room is already starting to feel a little like home. All of your toiletries are stacked up on the dressing table, and you’ve put your clothes away into the generous walk-in closet. Your books are scattered about the room, a few on the bedside table, another pile of them next to the full length mirror. The bed sheets are cool when you slip beneath them, bare legs sliding against soft cotton.

You stare at the green-grey light of your Nokia, looking at the last text from Joel, wondering if you should reply or just leave it. Best to play it cool, you decide, but restraint’s never been your strong suit and before you can stop yourself you’re typing out a reply, hitting the send button and grinning into the pillowcase.

That’s a shame. I was looking forward to testing your addition skills.

He doesn’t reply.

*****

Tuesday rolls around, bringing unrelenting sun and a dry heat that keeps you indoors most of the day. You help Connie rearrange her DVDs – an impressive collection – and take Nana out onto the porch in the early afternoon, waiting for Sarah to get home from school.

It’s just before four when she appears at the end of the cul-de-sac, hair bouncing around her shoulders as she makes her way towards you. She’s got her school bag slung over one shoulder, jeans rolled up at the ankles, a pair of scruffy Nikes on her feet.

“Hi, Nana, Connie,” she calls as she approaches the porch, gaze turning to you, “math whizz,” she finishes, grinning.

“Hi yourself,” you return, pushing yourself out of the deckchair, brushing crumbs off of your bare legs. You say a quick bye to the Adlers and follow Sarah up her own driveway and into the cool, still air of the Miller’s kitchen.

It’s a little disorderly: there are pots scattered on the kitchen sides, and a menagerie of clutter on the table which sits under a window, bright afternoon sunlight streaming in. Sarah dumps her school bag on this, pushes a notepad, two tape measures and a pair of mugs out of the way so that you can sit beside her.

“Okay,” she says, drawing out an exercise book and placing it in front of her, “before we get into this I need you to understand that math is my weakest subject.”

“Right,” You say, watching her serious expression as she pushes the book across the table towards you, “understood.”

“And you need to promise me you won’t judge me based solely on my algebra skills, or lack of them.”

This makes you laugh, a chuckle bubbling up out of your throat. Sarah holds your gaze, her face still serious.

“Sorry,” you say, “I mean to say, I would never judge anyone based on their maths skills.”

Sarah’s face breaks into a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” She says, laughing at the look on your face. “I am pretty bad at algebra, though.”

She’s not. You work through a dozen or so exercises, helping her when she gets stuck, showing her where she’s going wrong, but she’s actually fairly good at the calculations once you’ve explained it to her a couple of times. The afternoon goes by quickly. After two hours or so Sarah stretches in her chair, yawning.

“You wanna stay for dinner?” She asks, pushing the exercise book away from her. “It’s just leftover chicken casserole, but there’s enough if you want some.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

You sit by as she reheats the casserole, refusing your offers of help. Instead, you look around the rest of the room, searching out little hints of Joel that are tucked about: A pair of worn leather sandals by the back door, two plaid shirts hanging on the back of the door to the living room, a battered, dog-eared copy of a drill instruction manual, well-read and ringed with coffee stains.

It’s comfortingly domestic, and it makes your chest ache a little, thinking of your mum back home in London, all the friends and familiarity you left behind. Then Sarah’s placing a hot plate of casserole in front of you, joking about the fact that you don’t look very much like a mathematician, by which she means you don’t resemble Albert Einstein.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You tell her, and she smiles.

“You should. You’re much prettier than he was.”

You help Sarah do the dishes, stacking them neatly on the side to be put away later. After, Sarah asks if you want to stay and watch a movie, and you both spread yourselves out on the sofa in the Miller’s living room, flick on the television and watch Tim Allen and Sigourney Weaver mess about in outer space.

Sarah falls asleep before the film ends, even though the sun hasn’t fully set and its barely ten. You’re debating waking her when there’s a rattling from the kitchen and the sound of the front door creaking open. Joel.

You hear him clear his throat, scrape his boots on the door mat and then his deep voice is cutting through the silence of the house. “Sarah? You still up, baby?”

Sarah shifts where she’s asleep next to you but doesn’t stir. You push yourself off the sofa, step into the kitchen. Joel’s pulling off a toolbelt from around his waist, thick fingers unbuckling the clasp in a way that makes your heart rate jump up.

“Hey,” You say, leaning against the doorframe.

He jumps, his eyes shooting up to you before recognition softens his gaze.

“Hi,” He replies, finally working the toolbelt off and letting it drop onto the worktop beside him, “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine. Sarah made me dinner and we watched a movie. Well, she fell asleep.”

Joel chuckles at this, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, she has a habit of doin’ that.”

“Work okay?” You ask, thinking you should probably leave him to a restful evening, not wanting to at all.

“Long,” He says, rubbing at the coarse stubble on the side of his jaw. “How did math go?”

“Good. She’s bright, just needed a little bit of guidance with it.”

“Always been switched on. Dunno where she gets it from.” He steps around the kitchen island, rolling his jacket down off of his shoulders as he goes, narrow hips winding around the island and the fridge toward you.

He pulls a ten dollar note out of his back pocket, hands it to you between two thick, calloused fingers. “For the lesson,” He says.

“You don’t have to, Joel, honestly.”

“S’only fair, darlin’” He proffers the note again and you take it, trying not to think about the way that casual darlin’ has gone straight to your head, blood rushing to your cheeks so that they feel like they’re on fire.

“She in there?” Joel asks then, nodding behind you to the lounge. “Oh, yeah,” You turn, let Joel look past you into the darkness of the living room, where Sarah is spread out on the sofa, breathing deeply, eyes flickering in the dull light from the paused DVD.

As he leans into the room he steps toward you, the movement bringing him distractingly close, making you notice how much taller he is than you, how much broader. The t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched almost painfully across his shoulders, wear showing in the stressed seams. The patchy stubble at his jaw is longer than it was a few days ago, covering the sharpness of his jaw, the strong lines of his throat.

He looks away from Sarah’s form on the sofa then, his dark eyes flicking over your face, catching you watching him. You feel a blush creeping along your neck and up to your cheeks, and try to look away, but he’s holding your gaze, pupils wide in the dim light. Then his eyes dip down to your lips, follow the slight movement of your tongue as it worries at the edge of your mouth.

You can feel heat rolling off of him in waves and you wonder how it would be to push yourself up onto tip-toes and kiss the corner of his plush lower lip. This close, you can see the thin creases that line his eyes, the beginnings of grey in his dark eyebrows, raised slightly and pinching in the middle as he looks at you.

Your head is tilted up, your breath mingling in the dizzyingly narrow space between you. He clears his throat. You both realise, quite suddenly, how close you’re standing. Before you can say anything he’s moving back, tension breaking as he takes the white-hot heat of his body with him, leaving you flushed and dizzy.

“I should get Sarah to bed.” He says into the silence.

There’s a flush in his tanned face, painting his cheeks a deep red-brown, evidence that you aren’t alone in your distraction, in the surge of arousal that seems to be lighting you up from the inside. He runs a hand through already dishevelled hair.

“Right,” you reply, hoping he can’t hear the quaver in your throat, “I should head home.”

Outside, you rest for a moment against the wall next to the Adler’s front door.

Your heart is still thumping in your chest, each beat a reminder of the look in Joel’s eyes as he towered over you, his breath hot on your face, pupils blown wide because of the darkness, or maybe something else.

Before you get inside, your phone buzzes. The text is from Joel.

Same time next week?

You grin at the screen.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #AU!no outbreak

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winchesterwild78 · 2 months ago

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The Tutor part 2

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Physical Assault-Jeff is back, Fluff, SMUT!

**Trigger Warning: Some of this features Domestic Violence. It’s grabbing an arm, face and slapping.**

A/N: Just a quick idea that popped in my head. A short series, maybe 2 or 3 chapters. I don’t know yet. No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction. Jensen has children in this, but I do not use their real names.

Reader is a teacher and is asked to tutor Jensen’s child. Things develop between Jensen and the reader. I do not condone cheating, again, this is a work of fiction.

This chapter got a little long. Sorry not sorry. 😀 Please overlook any errors. I wrote this fast and edited it fast.

Minors DNI 18+

Weeks had passed since the shared kiss between you and Jensen. He was true to his word and nothing was awkward and he didn’t pursue another kiss. The two of you would share quick glances and an occasional ‘accidental touch’.

Mrs. Ackles had come home and you finally met her. She was kind but you noticed the tension between her and Jensen. It broke your heart. She was home for a few days before she left again. The kids were upset and Jensen seemed angry.

The holidays were approaching and you weren’t sure what your tutoring schedule would look like so you needed to talk to Jensen. After the kids were done for the afternoon and playing outside, you went to find Jensen.

You heard him in his office, and as you approached the door you realized he was on the phone. As you started to walk away you heard his voice filled with anger and hurt. You froze. “No! I want you to be home before the holidays, if not for me how about for our children? You’ve barely been home in months. It’s like you’re trying to stay away.” There was silence. As you started to walk away you heard him huff in frustration, “Fine, you do what you need to do. I’ll figure it out. I’ll see if my mom can come watch them so I can go do my job. You know the one that pays for this lifestyle you’ve become accustomed to.”

You walked back into the living room and started to pack up your things to go home. Jensen came down the stairs. He was wearing a t-shirt that hugged his chest, and gray sweatpants. You bit your lips and your thighs clenched together. His hair looked like he had run his fingers through it in frustration.

When Jensen saw you his features softened. “Leaving so soon, Y/N?” “Yeah, we are done and I figured you needed some space. I’m sorry. I overheard some of your conversation. I came to talk to you and heard it.” You put your head down, feeling a bit shameful for listening to his private conversation.

He walked up to you and placed his fingers under your chin, gently lifting up your head. “Hey, it’s okay. I could have closed the door. I’m sorry you had to hear that. So what did you want to talk to me about?” “Oh, um I was wondering what you wanted my schedule to look like with the holidays coming up.”

“Oh, well I guess that’s up to you. If you want to take a holiday break because you’re out of school too, I’m fine with that. I’m flexible.” You nodded and thought for a second. “Do you know when Mrs. Ackles is coming home? I overheard you say something about needing help with the kids, when would that be?

“Yeah, I’m not sure when or if she’s coming home. I have to leave Saturday for a few days to go shoot some episodes for a show I’m working on. I’ll see if my mom is available, so if you’re going to tutor you’ll get to meet her.”

You stepped a little closer to him, “Jensen, I can watch the kids for you if you want me to. I really don’t mind. I start my Winter Break on Friday, so I'll be available.” “Oh I can’t ask you to do that.” You touched his arm, “Jensen, you’re not. I’m offering, and I really don’t mind. I love your kids.”

He touched your arm, “That is incredibly generous of you. If you’re sure then I insist on paying you for it and you stay in the guest room while you’re here.” You stepped even closer to him. Feeling like a magnet was pulling you to him. “Jensen, you’re not paying me any extra.” He stepped closer, “You have to let me pay you for your time.”

Mere inches from each other now, you looked into his eyes, “No. You’re not paying me. I’m doing this because I want to. So you have a guest house and a guest room?” You asked. “Yes, the guest house is where we have people stay if they are going to be here for a while, the guest room is for shorter stays.”

Jensen’s hand brushed your hair behind your ear. “Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it.” Your breath hitched at his touch, “You’re welcome Jensen. I promise they will be okay.” He took your hand and pulled you into a hug. Your face buried in his chest, taking in his cologne. Your heart racing and the urge to kiss him became overwhelming.

You looked up at him and his green eyes met your y/e/c eyes. His thumb brushed your cheek and he leaned down. Stopping before touching your lips. You closed your eyes, anticipating the kiss, but it didn’t come. You looked at him and his eyes were a mixture of desire and sadness. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what came over me.” He cleared his throat and released you from his arms.

Your heart ached for his touch and his kiss. “Um, let me show you the guest room.” He walked away and you followed him down the hallway. The guest room was on the first floor and down the hallway opposite the living room.

He opened a door revealing a spacious room with its own private bathroom. “This is where you’ll be staying while you’re here with the kids. Please make yourself at home, extra towels are in the closet in the bathroom.” “Jensen, it’s perfect, thank you. Is it okay if I come on Thursday? That way the kids can get used to me being here and you can be more comfortable with leaving them here with me.”

“I’m completely comfortable with you being here with them. I trust you with them, but yes. Feel free to come on Thursday.” You nodded and thanked him again.

*Thursday*

You: Hey, I’m leaving work now. I’ll be there in about 30 minutes. I already have my stuff.

Jensen: Great! I’m grilling tonight. Hope you’re hungry.

You: Starved. Can I bring anything?

Jensen: Nope, just yourself.

You: Okay, see y’all soon.

As you walked out to your car you saw Jeff leaning against it. He pushed off the car when he saw you. “Hey baby. I’ve missed you.” He tried to hug you but you pulled away. “Aww come on, don’t be like that. I think you’ve had plenty of time to settle down from your tantrum. You need to come home.” “I’m not coming back, Jeff. I don’t want you anymore and I am filing for divorce.” Jeff grabbed your arm hard, “The fuck you are! You can’t leave me. You’re nothing without me. Get in the fucking car, we are going home, NOW!” You pulled away from him and you cried out in pain. His grip was so tight on your arm. “Let me go! I’m not going anywhere with you.” He grabbed you again and pinned you against the car. His hand gripped your chin. The pain shot through your face. Your mind thought about Jensen and how gentle his touch was.

Tears streamed down your face. You brought your knee up and hit him in his groin. He dropped his grip and groaned in pain. “You stupid bitch!” He smacked you across your face, and it felt like your eye was going to pop out of your head. Blood fell from your mouth.

A male co-worker was coming out of the building when he saw Jeff hit you and ran over to help you. Jeff took off and your co-worker called the police. They came and took both of your statements and asked if you wanted to press chargers. You told them yes, so they were going to arrest Jeff. Once he was arrested they were going to issue a protective order too.

Over an hour had passed before you were free to leave. You looked at your phone and saw texts from Jensen.

Jensen: Hey, Y/N. It’s been a while. Hope you’re okay.

Jensen: Not trying to overstep, but I haven’t heard from you or seen you. I’m starting to get a little worried.

Jensen: Okay, it’s been over an hour. I’m really worried. Please let me know you’re okay.

Your heart fluttered and you felt guilty he was worrying about you.

You: Hey, I’m okay. I’m on my way. I’ll explain everything when I get there.

Jensen: Oh thank god you’re okay. I’ll be waiting.

You drove to Jensen’s house and when you pulled in the driveway you looked up and saw him standing at the door. Getting out of the car the first thing he noticed was the mark on your face. He practically leaped off the steps and came up to you. He cupped your face, “Oh my god, what happened? Are you okay?” You sobbed, the dam finally breaking. He pulled you into his arms as you stood there sobbing into his chest. His hand rubbing your back while he consoled you.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” You followed him inside and sat at the kitchen bar. Jensen grabbed the bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Looks like you could use this.” You nodded gratefully as you took the glass of whiskey to your lips. “I’m here for you, Y/N. Whenever you’re ready to talk.” You nodded and the tears started to flow again.

The kids came running into the room excited to see you. You turned so they couldn’t see you crying, and Jensen ushered them outside. “Guys, go outside and play until dinner is ready. Ms. Y/N and daddy have to have a grown up conversation.” “Okay daddy.” They ran outside.

You looked up at Jensen, “Thank you. I didn’t want them to see me crying.” Jensen took your hand in his and rubbed it. “I understand. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” You began to tell Jensen about what happened, and you saw his jaw tense with anger. “I’m scared. I didn’t think he was capable of that. I have to figure out what to do now. He knows where Y/F/N lives, and I don’t want to put her in danger.”

Jensen’s eyes softened and he walked around the counter taking your hand, “Move into my guest house. The offer is still on the table, and we have great security. He doesn’t know where I live. You would be safe.” You bit your lip, “I’ll think about it. I’ll let you know by the time you return from your trip.” “Okay, come here, let me look at that mark.” You stood up and Jensen turned your face to see the mark Jeff left. His eyes flashed with anger, sadness and something else.

“God, what kind of man hits a woman?” His hand brushed lightly over your face, “You deserve so much better than that, sweetheart.” You touched his hand that was still cupping your face and placed a soft kiss on his palm.

Your eyes met and the distance between you got smaller. Jensen’s lips inches from yours again. Your breath mixes with his. The smell of whiskey and mint hit your nostrils. “Tell me to stop, baby.” “I don’t want you to Jensen. Please, don’t stop.” His lips met yours in a soft passionate kiss.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands ran up your body. Your mind was racing. You knew this was wrong, but it felt so good. His lips and his hands felt so incredible on your body. Jensen softly leaned you against the door so he could lock it. Then he spun you around and led you back towards the bed.

Your calves hit the bed and you fell backwards. You giggled as he fell beside you. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe he’d hit you.” You blushed and kissed his lips.

His hand started to move against your body. You tensed a little. “Sweetheart, we can stop if you want to.” “No, I don’t want to. I just want you to be sure.”

Jensen kissed your lips and leaned back a little bit “I’m 100% sure I want this. I want you.” He pulled his shirt over his head revealing his perfectly toned chest. You licked and bit your lip. Your fingers traced down his chest. Touching each freckle and roaming over the contours of his torso.

You felt your arousal pool between your legs and soak your panties. His arousal was pushing against your thigh.

His hands cupped your breasts as his fingers moved to the hem of your shirt. You nodded and leaned up. He pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your bra covered breasts.

Jensen let out a primal growl as he took in the sight of your body. You tried to cover yourself. “No, baby. Please don’t. You’re gorgeous.”

You leaned forward so he could unhook your bra. As your breasts sprang free his mouth was on them. Sucking and playing with each nipple. You leaned your head back and moaned in pleasure. “Yes, Jensen. Feels so good.”

He smirked as he felt you responding to his touch. Jensen started kissing his way down your body. Taking his time, kissing each curve, mark and committing them to memory.

As he got to the hem of your pants his eyes looked up at you. You nodded. His fingers brushed against your zipper and button, undoing both of them. You lifted your hips helping him remove your pants and panties.

Jensen stood and threw your clothes to the side. He looked at your naked body laying on the bed before him. You were never comfortable with your body and now more than ever you hated every curve, stretch mark, and imperfections. You grabbed the blanket trying to cover yourself.

“Please don’t. I want to see your beautiful body. You’re perfect to me.” You let the blanket fall and tears fell from your eyes. “Oh baby, don’t cry.” “I’m not sad, Jensen. Nobody has ever said that to me. Not even Jeff.”

“Well we already knew he was a fool. This just confirms it.” He kissed you. His hand slipped between your thighs and found your folds. You gasped at the contact. “Mmm so wet for me.” You moved your hips trying to get more contact.

His thumb brushed against your throbbing clit as he slid two thick fingers inside your folds. “Oh Jensen” your breath hitched. He began to move his fingers faster, hooking up and hitting your sweet spot. You moved your hips in tandem with his hand. His thumb rubbing your clit as he finger fucked you.

You were close to your release, “Oh Jensen. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck!”

Just as you were about to cum his phone rang. “Fuck! Don’t move” He growled as he stood up. You grabbed the blanket and covered yourself.

He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. You laid on the bed thinking about what you two were about to do. His lips and touch were amazing. You wanted more.

You heard Jensen’s voice and could tell he was upset. Figuring the mood was gone, you grabbed your clothes and started to put them back on. A sadness filled your chest, realizing it was his wife on the phone. You wanted him and he wanted you, but he was still married and living with her. Could you really be “the other woman”?

After getting dressed you walked back into the living room. Jensen was leaning against the kitchen counter, still on the phone. “No, I’m still going to work. Y/N is on her holiday break and offered to watch the kids for us. She’s staying in the guest room. Are you going to be home to spend the holidays with your family? Well I hope for the sake of the kids you will be. Fine. Yeah. I guess I’ll see you next week. Bye.”

Jensen met your eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I had to answer it.” You walked over to him, “it’s okay. I understand. She’s your wife and she needed to talk to you. Um, I’m going to grab my stuff. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You walked out to your car and grabbed your bags. Your heart was heavy. You craved his lips and his touch, but you couldn’t break up his marriage. His children were too important to you. Tears pricked your eyes. You knew you had to keep him at arms length for the sake of his children.

Walking back into the house you saw Jensen in the kitchen getting things ready for the grill. He looked up at you and saw the pain in your eyes. His heart clenching in his chest.

You walked to the guest room and started unpacking. You could still smell Jensen’s cologne and his shirt was on the floor. The tears you held back were falling.

A knock on your door had you quickly wiping them away. You cleared your throat “come in” you said softly. “Hey baby, I just needed my shirt.” Your back was to him. You sniffled. Jensen was at your side, “hey, what’s wrong?” You shook your head, “Nothing. I’m okay. I promise.” He cupped your face, his thumb brushing a single tear away,”Please talk to me.”

“I don’t know if I can do this. I want to be with you. I want to continue what we were doing earlier, but I can’t be the reason your marriage ends. I love your kids too much to hurt them like that.”

Jensen saw the pain in your eyes “Y/N, please believe me when I tell you that you’re not nor would you ever be the reason my marriage ends. We’ve been drifting apart for years. I lied to you earlier. She’s not on a girls trip. She’s on a trip with her boyfriend. We are only married for the sake of my career. Since I have the “family man” image. I don’t love her anymore and she doesn’t love me. So believe me when I say I want to be with you.”

“Oh, Jensen. I’m so sorry you’re going through that. I wish there was something I could do to help.” “There is, stay here with us. Be here with the kids and me. They love you so much and it’s been amazing seeing you with them.” “I’ll think about it. I promise.”

He placed a soft kiss on your lips, “that’s all I can ask for.”

Friday evening came faster than you’d expected. After the kids were settled in bed you started to clean up the kitchen and the rest of the house. Jensen was in his office working on some things before he left in the morning. You were going to miss him so much.

After you got everything cleaned you went to your room to change into your comfy sleep clothes. You were wearing an oversized shirt, and shorts. No bra but you had your panties on.

You walked into the living room and scrolled on your phone. You came across an article about Jensen and his newest project. Your heart swelled with pride.

Then there was another article that caught your eye. It was about his wife and how she’d been photographed recently with their good friend. You assumed this was her boyfriend by how cozy they looked. Your heart ached for Jensen.

Putting your phone down you walked to his office to see how much longer he was going to be. You wanted to go over everything with him so tomorrow morning y’all could focus on the goodbyes.

You knocked on his office door and he said come in. Walking in you saw him sitting at his desk, hair a mess, gray sweatpants hugging his hips, and his t-shirt spread across his chest. Perfectly outlining his toned body. You bit your lip.

“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” “Yeah. Just wanted to go over everything with you, but I can come back.”

Jensen turned so his body was facing you. His legs spread open. “Come here darlin’” he said as he motioned for you. He put his hands on your hips and pulled you between his legs. You leaned down and kissed his lips.

Jensen’s hands trailed up your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You moaned into his mouth. You could taste the whiskey he was drinking.

He pulled you on his lap and began kissing you again. You could feel his arousal through his pants. Your thin shorts leaving nothing much between you two.

You grinded down on his erection, pulling a moan from his lips. “Damn sweetheart. That feels good.” You slide out of his lap and drop to you knees. You look up at Jensen and smile.

Licking your lips you touch the waistband of his pants and begin to pull at them. You stop, look at him and he nods. Giving you permission to continue.

Slick pools between your legs and your breath quickens. You pull Jensen’s length out of his pants and boxers. You bite your lip at the sight. His cock is long and thick. The biggest you’d seen.

You saw some precum on the head, so you lick it off. Your mouth closes around the head and you lightly suck. Jensen groans. You take his length in your mouth and begin to suck him. From base to tip, all the way down your throat. Your tongue running up his length. Jensen’s eyes rolled back in his head, his head dipped back, and his hands grabbed your hair. “Oh fuck baby. That feels so good.”

Your mouth bobbed up and down his shaft. Taking every inch down your throat. The sounds of you sucking and his moans filled the small space of his office. You were taking him in so far your eyes began to water.

“Damn baby, you’ve got to stop. I don’t want to cum like this. Fuck I need you.” You leaned back slowly pulling your mouth off his cock. When you pulled your head back there was a small string of saliva that went from the tip to your lips.

“Damn you’re so beautiful, come here darlin’.” Jensen pulled you off your knees and pulled you back towards him. He sat you on the edge of his desk and ran his hands up your thighs. Your nipples were hard and poking out your shirt. Jensen leaned down and bit through your shirt. Your head fell backwards with a moan.

Jensen’s hands kept sliding up your thigh until they got to the hem of your shorts. His large hand pressed against your pussy through your shorts. Jensen could feel how wet you were. His fingers slid between your shorts and panties, “You’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to taste you.”

Jensen slid your shorts and panties down, exposing your dripping cunt to the cool air. A shiver went through your body. Jensen dropped down to his knees and put your legs over his shoulders. He licked a strip up between your folds, taking his fingers and parting your lips. Your hands grabbed his hair as his tongue danced around your clit.

“Yes, Jens, keep doing that. Oh god that feels so good.” Jensen’s fingers entered your pussy and hooked up. His tongue flicking and mouth sucking on your clit. “Oh god, I’m so close Jensen.” Jensen lifted his head, you noticed his beard glistened with your juices, “Cum for me sweetheart. Let me taste your release.” You pushed his head back down and he licked and ate you like a starved man. A few more licks and you were tumbling over the edge.

“Oh, fuck! Jensen, I’m cumming.” Jensen kept licking, pushing you over the edge again. By the time you finished cumming for the second or third time, you honestly lost count, your legs were like jello.

Jensen stood, lowering your legs gently. His lips crashed on yours. You could taste your release on his lips. “Come on darlin’, I need you. Let’s go to the bedroom.” Jensen helped you stand and took your hand. He guided you to his bedroom. “Jensen, are you sure?” As he pulled you into the room he locked the door, “Yes, I’m sure.”

He led you over to the bed, pulling off your shirt and exposing your breasts and your naked body to the chilly air. He removed his pants and was standing in front of you completely naked.

You bit your lower lip taking him in. You laid in the center of the bed as Jensen climbed between your legs. “Are you ready sweetheart?” “Yes, Jensen. I need you, please.” Jensen leaned over, grabbing a condom, putting it on. He lined himself up and slowly pushed inside you.

You both gasped at the feeling. Once he bottomed out he stopped. His head dipped into the crook of your neck. “Damn baby, you feel so good I could cum right now. I need a minute.” You were thankful he took a minute. He was much bigger than anyone you’d been with, so the feeling was a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Jensen hooked his arms around your legs and lifted them up a little. You moved your hips a little and he started to move. Setting a slow, steady pace, Jensen moved in and out of you. Taking his time, savoring every thrust and moan he pulled from your lips.

The sound of your pleasure and his rising in the air. Jensen felt himself getting closer so he sped up a little. His thrusts become more urgent, his hands gripping your hips and yours gripping his shoulders.

“Oh Jensen! Keep going baby. I’m close again.” Your grip on his shoulders got tighter and your nails dug into his skin. “Yes baby! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, Y/N.” “Me too, Jensen.” Your release hit without warning, your walls squeezing him and pulling his release. With one final thrust he was spilling his seed into the condom.

You felt his cock stop twitching and he pulled out. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he got up to clean himself up. You pulled the sheet up and around you, laying in his bed you watched him go into the bathroom. Your heart fluttered and warmed.

When he came back to bed he pulled you into his arms. Placing a soft kiss on your lips he whispered, “That was incredible. Thank you.” You smiled, “Yes it was Jensen. Better than I imagined.” “Oh, so you imagined having sex with me?” You blushed, “maybe.” “Don’t worry, I’ve imagined having sex with you since I met you.”

“Jensen! You have not.” You hid your face laughing. “Yes I have. You looked incredible the first time I saw you. After you left that night I touched myself thinking about you. This was so much better.” You bit your lip and smiled.

He pulled you closer to him and brushed the hair out of your face, “You are so beautiful. I’m going to miss you so much while I’m gone.” “I’m going to miss you too, Jensen. So much.” “I’ll video chat at night and we can have phone sex.” He winked at you. “That sounds like fun.” You chuckled. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep. We have to be up early.”

You nodded and the two of you kissed each other. Placing your head on his chest, you heard the steady beat of his heart. As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you felt an undeniable feeling growing in your heart. You were equally excited and terrified.

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#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader

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solarwonux · 7 months ago

Text

Business Proposal || knj (9/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 8.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!

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10 Years Ago

Things were finally looking up.

“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off.

You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers.

Maybe things weren't really looking up.

“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up.

He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks.

Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final.

It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test.

The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.

You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse.

Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day.

“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called.

Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again.

In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook.

Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student.

“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months.

“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe.

“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you.

“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.

You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.”

Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee.

You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.”

Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.

“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.

Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink.

“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles.

You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.

Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship.

Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers.

He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break.

There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck.

During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years.

Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.

He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles.

You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.

“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles.

If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit.

“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in.

Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe.

You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side.

“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.”

You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea.

“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–

“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance.

If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page.

Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?”

You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.”

“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.”

Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.”

“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page.

Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture.

Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes.

Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.

Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.

His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago.

You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not.

One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him.

When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure.

A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.

It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion.

It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up?

“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between.

Now you're more than positive that something is wrong.

You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders.

This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion.

A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room.

“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned.

With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.”

At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders.

“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest.

He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit.

His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you.

For what?

You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out.

“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin.

For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion.

When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point.

Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.”

Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.”

“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you.

He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling.

Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue.

He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet.

As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too.

With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.

You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?”

He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?”

The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him.

Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head.

He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.”

“I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.

“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?”

Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates.

Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him.

Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow.

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.”

“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.

“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side.

You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end.

He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “

“Who?”

“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.

Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort.

Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space.

He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back.

He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years.

For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it.

Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now.

He cares.

In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has.

He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage? Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved?

So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other.

Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing.

He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same.

You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble.

You're his girlfriend now.

He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too.

“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one.

You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room.

He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him.

“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you.

His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one.

“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand.

He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.”

Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks.

You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.”

He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face.

It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.

Hoseok would always be the one who got away.

Your big “what if.”

Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love.

“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt.

“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures, his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder.

You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt.

The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste.

He could never wait. And he never did.

He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.

He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks.

“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine.

“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub.

You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment.

Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop.

“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment.

“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again.

You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows.

“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.”

You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees.

“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard.

The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything.

Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest.

Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end.

“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him.

He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on.

“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.

He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.”

You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.

Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart.

“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”

You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.”

You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.”

You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?”

“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs.

“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt.

“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head.

“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room.

“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment.

You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy.

So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up.

“You’re late.”

Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses.

You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”

“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book.

You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds.

“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”

Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.”

Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book.

You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list.

Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for?

“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.”

“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book.

“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood.

“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.

“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”

Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.”

“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff.

Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?”

The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate.

“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.”

Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.”

If only it were that easy.

“I’d love to but he never has time.”

“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter.

“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–”

“No, I’m not busy now.”

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.

All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous.

“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground.

You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.

“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you.

“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table.

You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying.

Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.”

You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.”

“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.”

“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks.

The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public.

“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?”

Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder.

“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.” You add bitterly.

“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.”

You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.”

You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.”

He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.”

“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist.

His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”

You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table.

Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?”

“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”

Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?”

“No but it was basically implied.” You emphasize.

“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner.

“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket.

He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside.

Namjoon is happy.

His friends are happy.

Things in his life were finally looking up.

“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders.

You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side.

Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.

He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too.

a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!

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libraryofgage · 9 months ago

Text

The Prince and the Metalhead (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

I know I just posted part one but I've got Thoughts for this AU that include: Steve's first birthday in Genovia and then his 16th, his conversation with his grandmother about attending public school in America for his senior year, and then we get into him attending Hawkins High and meeting Eddie!

So, yeah, plans lmao

Anyway, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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"You'll have a rotating course schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays will focus on math and social studies. Tuesdays and Thursdays will be science and literature. Friday will be Royalty lessons and the history of Genovia. We can also include an elective, if you'd like."

Steve blinks, staring at Sue for a moment before glancing at Jonathan and Robin. Jonathan is looking through a book of photography and Robin is idly scratching behind Dart’s ears. "Will we all have the same elective?" Steve asks.

"Not unless Jonathan and Robin want to join you," Sue says, looking at Steve expectantly. She's got a pen at the ready to write down what he says, and it suddenly feels like a lot of pressure.

Is there a wrong answer here? Is there an answer that gets him sent back to his parents? He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood. Before he can lose himself in his thoughts, a cold and wet nose presses against his hand. Steve blinks, smiling at Dart and picking her up to hold close. "What kind of electives are there?" he asks.

Sue hums softly, flipping to another page on her clipboard. "Possible electives include art, music, theatrical performance, physical education, equestrian studies, botany, and foreign languages, to name a few."

"I'll be taking photography lessons," Jonathan says, looking up at Steve and gesturing to his book.

Robin nods and leans back on her palms. "I'll be doing the physical stuff. Like learning how to fight and practicing ballet to improve my balance," she says, leveling a look at Steve that dares him to say anything about the ballet.

Steve wouldn't, though. He doesn't want to make Robin angry enough to ditch him. He looks down at Dart, thinking for a moment before asking, "Can I take more than one?"

"Of course, but you're limited to three for now," Sue says.

What would be the most helpful? Foreign languages, probably, since he'll definitely have to speak with ambassadors from other countries at some point. He should also learn something that can be shown off, a skill that he could pull out at functions to make his grandmother proud or distract guests.

"What language should I learn?" he asks.

Sue thinks for a moment, tapping her pen against her chin. "Mandarin. It's a business language, and we have close relations with a few representatives from China and Hong Kong. If you'd like to learn a Romantic language first, though, Spanish is good."

"I'll learn Mandarin," Steve decides, nodding once to himself. "And music. I want to learn to play...hmm...the piano."

With a nod, Sue writes his electives down. "Let me know if you'd like to add an elective later, Your Highness. In my opinion, though, your current courses will keep you properly challenged for now."

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Sue wasn't kidding about his academics being challenging. Steve struggles in math, muddles his way through science, drags himself through literature, and is ready to drop when he hits social studies. He'd ask the tutors to spend more time on topics, but Robin and Jonathan seem to have no problem keeping up, and Steve can't bring himself to disrupt their pace.

His Mandarin lessons are going just slightly better if only because the tutor seems to recognize that slower is better for him. After almost a month, he's starting to understand intonation and vocal variation better, and he can recognize a few characters on sight.

Piano lessons are also going well. His tutor there doesn't burden him with theory; she introduces the keys, shows him how to read sheet music, and then lets him choose songs to learn. Steve feels the most at ease when he's squinting at sheet music and slowly pressing piano keys into something recognizable.

The lessons he really looks forward to, however, are the ones for his Royalty Education. He gets to see his grandmother then, and she spends the whole day with him. Even better, something about this stuff just clicks. He's good at fixing his posture and memorizing silverware placement. He bows just right on his first try and his grandmother compliments his wave.

By the end of the lesson, she'll be smiling, her pride obvious, and take him for a walk in the gardens or to eat cookies in the kitchen.

"Royalty requires maintenance," Clarisse says, standing in front of Steve with relaxed shoulders. "You maintain your demeanor, your image, your knowledge of foreign dignitaries, your understanding of the people’s needs, and your humility. But you must also maintain your pride and your boundaries."

"That sounds like a lot," Steve says, idly tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"It can be overwhelming, but it becomes second nature in time," Clarisse explains, smiling reassuringly. "When you're royalty, you are constantly watched. Many eyes are kind or curious, but others are malicious, and you want to do everything you can to disappoint the malicious ones."

"How?"

"By acting like the Crown Prince you are."

"What kind of prince am I?" Steve asks, finally voicing the question that's been lingering since these lessons started. What kind of prince does his grandmother want? What kind of prince would best serve the people? What kind of prince will be so loved by all that nobody could even think of thinking about getting rid of him?

Clarisse hums, thinking for a moment. "I suppose a good one," she says, her slight smile telling Steve that she's only lightly teasing. "My hope is that you'll be kind and competent. You will make Genovia prosperous without compromising tradition. You won't allow politics to stand in the way of doing what's right by the people of Genovia. But this is a tiring job, so I hope you'll learn how to balance your duties with relaxation."

It's a lot, but Steve can do it. He can be that kind of prince, especially for the country and grandmother that's offered everything he's ever wanted and more. He nods once. "Okay," he says, "What do I need to learn, then?"

Clarisse smiles fondly at him. "Let's start by reviewing Genovian history. Only by knowing the past can you face the future."

With that, she places a book on Steve's desk and doesn't wait for him to open it before telling him about Genovia's founding.

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Steve has weekends off from classes, which leaves him with more free time than he knows what to do with when he doesn't have to clean a house or make his own meals. So, he's bored, and telling Robin that he was bored was a huge mistake after she suggested riding bikes around the garden only to learn Steve didn't know how.

She'd insisted that he should learn, insisted that Clarisse be the one who teaches him, and insisted on hearing no objections.

And now he's here, standing in front of Clarisse's desk and staring down at his feet as she finishes writing something on the paper in front of her. Joe is standing just to her right, hands behind his back.

"Okay," Clarisse says, gently placing her pen on the desk before looking at Steve with an encouraging smile. "What did you want to ask me, Steve?"

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, takes a deep breath, and looks up. "Well, um, Robin wants to ride bikes, but I don't know how," he says.

"Well, that's easily fixed," Clarisse says, reaching for a phone at the corner of her desk. "I'm sure a member of staff is free to teach you."

Before she can pick up the phone, Steve finds himself blurting out, "Well, I...I was hoping...you could teach me."

Clarisse freezes, blinking twice with confusion before looking at Steve. "You want me to teach you?" she asks. When Steve nods once, she sighs softly. "A queen does not ride bikes. Besides, I have too much work to complete. Perhaps I could accompany you for a walk this evening to make up for it."

Despite himself, despite bracing for rejection, it still hurts. In the three months he's been in Genovia, Clarisse has agreed to just about every request he's made. Every held breath as he waits for cruel words has been released with unprecedented relief when none came. Even when he broke something---a priceless vase, according to Jonathan---his grandmother had simply surveyed the damage, thanked him for being honest, and asked him to avoid kicking soccer balls in the presence of priceless vases in the future.

Perhaps Steve has gotten too comfortable. He shouldn't be pushing like this. If he wants his grandmother's affection, he should know when to hold himself back.

So, despite the unfamiliar urge to ask again in case Clarisse might change her mind, Steve nods once. "I look forward to walking with you, Grandmother," he says, his voice quiet. He glances up, waiting long enough to see Clarisse's smile before turning on his heel and leaving the office as quickly as he can.

Clarisse watches him go, her head slightly tilted as the door closes silently behind Steve. She nods once, glad that Steve is sensible enough to understand things like work and propriety, and picks up her pen once more.

"If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?" Joe asks.

"At this point, Joe, you may as well assume the answer is yes."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, and please pardon my French, my experience has been that assuming makes an ass out of you and me."

It takes a moment for Clarisse to understand the joke. When she does, she can't help her amused smile. "Fair enough," she says, "Go ahead, Joe."

"Do you remember what I said about being Steve's grandmother?"

"Yes, of course."

"Perhaps now is one of those moments where being a grandmother is more important than being a queen. His Highness does not ask for much, and he is not the kind to ask more than once, even if he really wants something. I imagine it took a significant amount of courage to ask you to teach him in the first place."

"Are you suggesting that I...I risk making a fool of myself for all to see?" Clarisse asks.

"I am suggesting you spend time with your grandson, who asks very little of you because he does not believe he can ask for anything."

Clarisse is silent a moment, letting Joe's words process and settle in her brain. Finally, she sighs and gestures to the papers on her desk. "I have work to complete," she says.

"Your Majesty, editing these proposals was on your schedule two weeks from now. You are ahead of your work. A break would not be unreasonable or unwarranted."

Well, when he puts it like that.

Clarisse sighs, leans back in her chair, and looks up at Joe. He's still staring at the door, giving no indication that he feels her eyes on him, but she knows he does. "Have a groundskeeper retrieve bikes and safety gear and meet us in the garden," she says, standing from her chair and bracing herself to look like an utter fool.

Her apprehension fades away fifteen minutes later. It can't hold last when she sees Steve's surprised and delighted expression at her presence. As she helps him put on knee and elbow pads, shows him how to pull the helmet's strap tight, and holds the bike steady as he sits on it, Clarisse decides a little foolishness is perfectly fine (necessary, even) if it will keep the smile on Steve's face.

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Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added to future parts!)

@y4r3luv, @potato-of-the-lord,

#stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #princess diaries crossover #queen clarisse renaldi #modern royalty au #future steddie #robin buckley #jonathan byers #the party's parents #my writing #anybody else ever have that experience where the first time you realize that somebody won't make you feel guilty for asking for things #you get way in your head about not asking for the one (1) thing that will ruin it all for you #so every time you ask for something new you're bracing to take the request back as quickly as you can #just me?#aight then lmao #to absolutely nobody's surprise i am projecting on steve harrington #if you made it this far in the tags #you deserve a cookie lmao

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ms-nesbit · 2 years ago

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The Graduate (professor!jason todd x reader)

yall sickos voted for it, and here it is.

summary: Reader is attending Gotham University with Tim and Steph, who invite her to hide away from her family at Wayne Manor for summer; Reader's old professor, Mr. Todd - whom she had feelings for - would return to Wayne Manor for a visit.

warnings: smut, reader is chubby (and is mentioned vaguely during the smut part), oral sex (female and male receiving), jason todd is not red hood

word count: 3.7k

note: i wasnt passionate about this, and i think it shows. i will submit another poll soon

AO3

Trees swayed to and fro, their leaves descending from their branches. Below them were students of Gotham University, bustling with mixed feelings in their own individual bubbles. At this time of the year, the students were frantic to finish their studies, bubbling with fear of failure - or, in y/n’s case, fear of the inevitable: returning back home to her parents.

“Come on, y/n!” Tim nudged her shoulder playfully. “Just stay with us for a bit. I’m sure your folks won’t mind a bit if you joined us.” His backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm holding his overpriced textbooks. “Plus, you know that Bruce is going to be inviting Jason back over.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at the enticing information, knowing exactly why it was so pertinent of Tim to disclose the trivia. Jason - or, as y/n called him, Mr. Todd - was her two-hundred level literature professor, one that kept her attendance sharp. Despite her punctuality, y/n’s grades stooped a tad lower than she hoped, having to set aside time for a tutor after hours. The cause?

Wandering eyes. Nearly every lecture in the hall, a “snoozefest” for typical students, was a period of time during which y/n found herself gawking at Professor Todd, sometimes uncomfortably shifting in her seat as she felt herself getting wet underneath her clothes.

“Since you’re basically graduated, you can probably hit on him.” Steph bounced along on y/n’s other side, shiny blonde hair drifting behind her.

While y/n was far from graduating, as her dean (and stacking student loans) reminded her, she was further from infancy as a student; it did help that GU’s policy chose not to define how intimate student-teacher relationships could be, as long as the student was not directly professionally affiliated with the professor.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Y/n let out with a bothered breath.

—-

Three weeks dashed by, each of y/n’s remaining final exams torturing her, one after the next; she persevered (but barely, nearly falling asleep during her Business Ethics final), and boxed her dorm-materials, shipping them, along with herself, to the Wayne Manor. It wasn’t y/n’s first stay at the manor, having been a guest to the Wayne family’s abundance of galas and sleepovers, but she felt much more high-strung and self-conscious, wanting to make a good impression on her crush.

Tim’s older brothers, Dick and Jason, moved out of Wayne Manor shortly before y/n met Tim, so she never truly thought anything of them; until, of course, y/n’s first day of Classic Literature, when a tall, top-heavy man abruptly entered the lecture hall, reading glasses high on his nose. At that moment, y/n found herself leaning in closer over her desk, regretting her choice of sitting in the rows farthest from the center of the auditorium. She watched as Jason’s fingers ruffled through his hair, black sprinkled with white near his widow’s peak, wondering if it was soft. Or maybe his hair was gelled with some substance, which emitted a waft of juniper and sage…or cedar and cypress…or wintermint. Unfortunately, she caught nothing of Jason’s hint of a pop-quiz that coming Friday, or that the test would account for ten percent of their overall grade.

Y/n’s grade-point average dipped disastrously after that course, something she had to excuse to her parents, as unforgiving as they were, despite their overall dismissal of everything else in her life.

It was why y/n loved her time at Wayne Manor, stepping in with boxes in her arms. She was stopped by a slender man in a navy tee, asking if he could assist with her boxes. “It just seems real heavy, and I don’t want you to get hurt on the stairs.” he excused, taking on the boxes of clothing and bedding.

“Good morning, Alfred!” y/n chirped at the older gentleman, who nodded back and returned his greeting. “How are you?”

Alfred smiled politely. “Most busy, as usual. And how are your courses, Teddy?”

Teddy was a term Alfred used toward y/n when she was a child. He didn’t break the habit, nor did y/n want him to. “Surprisingly tough, actually. I haven’t received the results on my ceramics project, but overall, I’m looking okay.”

Peering down at her from the top of the staircase, Alfred’s smile remained. “Undoubtedly, you are more than capable of handling those adversaries. I’m proud of you.” Alfred was a family member to y/n, similarly to Tim and Steph, caring for all of them whenever they came down with illness, or when y/n was unable to return home due to another violent outburst from her parents. It wasn’t unusual to Alfred, nor did he shame her for it, but he treated her as an insider, and y/n treated him as an equal (dissimilarly to some of the Wayne family’s other guests).

After having been shown her temporary room by Pennyworth, y/n settled her boxes and laid on the bed, catching her breath. Still no Mr. Todd, y/n thought to herself, Would it be weird if I asked Al when he’s stopping by?

It seemed that Dick read her thoughts, as he arrived in the room, remaining boxes in his arms. He set them down beside the doorway and kept his distance respectfully. “Tim told me you had Jason as your teacher. Was he good at all? I heard he’s pretty strict.”

Strict? I don’t remember him being...oh shit, yeah. Y/n recalled, an amused chortle leaving her lips. “He had his moments.” Of the little focus she did have, y/n retained the information, instantly enveloped by the idiosyncrasies ranging from his zero-tolerance policy on open beverages of any kind to his amenability of otherwise adultish themes. During his lecture one day about The Scarlet Letter, Professor Todd tucked his hair behind his ears and dove into the ignorance of sexual fluidity, and the importance of noting Western Christian themes into classic literature.

And when he unveiled his stance on feminism, to the dismay of several misogynistic students sitting in his class, y/n felt her feelings intensifying, even letting out a dreamily sigh when he expelled the oafish hecklers with an impatient tone.

“Do you think it would be weird if he stayed over? He texted me this morning to ask you.” Dick’s voice snapped y/n from her thoughts.

Y/n shook her head cloddishly. “Oh, no! No, not at all, it’s-it’s okay, y’know? It’s his house, too, so I don’t want him to feel put off by it.”

Sensing the sharp discomfort in her body language, Dick lowered his eyes to his phone and ducked his head. “He doesn’t usually date his students, you know.” he looked through his hair, which drooped over the top of his face as his head was still tilted forward.

What the fuck is with the smart people in this fucking family? “That obvious?”

Dick held his index finger and thumb, gesturing, “Little bit. Though he will be here any minute, according to this text.” he showed y/n his conversation with Jason. “Maybe there’ll be an exception for you.” Dick smirked and winked suggestively before walking out of the room, leaving y/n alone with the dropped optimism.

Moments later, y/n heard a crashing down the hall, followed by a blasting profanity, before Tim clamored into her room, his eyes wide. “Y/n, y/n. Dude, did you check your phone?” Y/n shook her head, confused. “Jason’s here. Want me to set him up for ya?” His eyebrows jumped up and down almost mockingly, expression stenched with excitement.

“As tempting as that may be, I don’t think that would work.” Y/n brushed off. “Plus, I just talked to Dick and he said Mr. Todd doesn’t usually date his students.”

Letting out an exasperated grunt, Tim crossed his arms, shifting his weight onto one foot. “Phallus doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I mean, sure, Jason isn’t really big on the teacher-student thing - something with ‘taking advantage’ of a student and the power imbalance or whatever - but I’m sure he’ll be okay with you since you’re, like, no longer his student.” Tim’s sass blew through the ceiling with each word. “So, whaddaya say?”

The evening quickly rolled in, y/n exhausted from unpacking and spending her time frollicking with Steph. Not before long, though, Alfred called the family for dinner, rounding them up with an entree of cold-cut meats and cheeses, and appetizers of golden breadsticks layered with butter and spices. The aroma carried into the dormitories, interrupting y/n from her rest on her bed as her stomach growled. Following the scent, y/n eventually heard a deep voice singing along to a Doris Day record, and chose to pursue the voice instead. As she approached the source of the harmony, she discovered that it was Jason, folding laundry into clothes drawers.

The closer she stepped, though, the more was unveiled to her: Jason wore his slacks, no different than his salaried attire, but his button-down, usually carefully pressed and sealed, was unbuttoned and relaxed, exposing areas of his chest and torso that seemed so forbidden for y/n to gaze at.

But she couldn’t possibly look away from the sight she daydreamed and pondered about - especially when he was much more toned than she initially thought. Holy shit, she repeated as Jason’s voice continued, like a siren drawing her in for a kill, his abs tightening as he hummed.

Attempting to back away stealthily, a floorboard creaked, alarming y/n, before she ended up bolting down the hall and stairs, running away from any possible consequence.

“Miss y/n, I do have to remind you not to run through the house, Dear.” Alfred admonished sternly as y/n zipped past him and into the dining room. “Please have a seat in your assigned seat.”

Ah, yes — assigned seats. Prior to their departure to university, Tim, Steph, and y/n had to follow a seating chart to deter from wreaking havoc (which was, despite their age, inexorable). As y/n sunk into her designated seat, body slumping over, Steph called from behind, “What’re we havin’ today, Al? Is this…whoa, what happened to you?” her voice quieted as she approached y/n, who attempted to hide herself from view.

Y/n shook her head and forcefully whispered, “I saw your hot older brother half-naked. I dunno what to do.” she revealed her embarrassment to Steph, who sat across the table.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he didn’t know.” Steph shrugged in response. Though y/n shouldn’t be surprised at how nonchalant Steph was, treating the catastrophe as if it were simple, but she had been this self-assured for as long y/n knew her.

Surely she’s right, y/n thought to herself as she stabbed at her cold cut meat on her assigned plate, eyes glued to the labryinthine decorative vine painted along the outer ridge of the china. For the first ten minutes of dinner, she was relieved, noticing the empty chairs on her right, and one on the other end of the table; however, after a series of nibbles (for some reason, as Tim thoughtlessly pointed, y/n wasn’t particularly hungry), y/n overheard a high-pitched squeak of the heavy wooden chair being pushed on the hardwood floor, and her eyes darted to the source, unexpecting of Mr. Todd apologizing as he dropped into his seat, broad shoulders slump in penitence.

“So, Jason, I heard you taught y/n.” Bruce said aloud, slicing his salami with a knife and fork. “Were you tough on her?”

Staring at the coral-toned tablecloth as she stopped her breath, y/n awaited his answer. “I mean, if I did, she did relatively well considering.” Jason just shrugged, sloshing half-chewed provolone on either side of his mouth.

“Stupendous.” Bruce responded, unaware of the tension in the dining room. He wasn’t as involved in y/n’s life as Alfred was, but once he caught wind of the rocky situation back at her home, Bruce sat her down and offered a bed and privacy “whenever you want, y/n.” It was a relief, as y/n did feel guilty about spending so much resources having dinner at the Wayne Manor, and y/n carried her weight around the manor well, claiming ownership for a few responsibilities of the mansion’s many chores.

Feeling a pair of eyes on her, y/n glanced up from her plate to Steph, then Tim, who were both giving her mixed signals until y/n scooted back in her chair, swiftly rising as she awkwardly excused herself from the table before exiting promptly.

—

Knock-knock

Y/n heard from the other side of her room, to which she acknowledged: “Come in!”

She was rather ignorant of the possibility of who could be pestering her, her bothered tone seeping from her vocal chords, and body lying prostrate on her bed; y/n’s annoyance, however, cleared as soon as she noticed who was entering, his tall frame creeping past the crack of the door.

“I wanted to come in and check to see if you’re feeling well.” Mr. Todd’s glabella wrinkled with concern, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his slacks. “From what I’ve come to know, you’re not one to dismiss dairy products, especially those in a solidified nature.” Y/n sighed at the comment, aware of his reference: one day after class, y/n was assigned to construct a two-hundred word essay about her favorite snack — she, of course, chose cheese, uninformed that she was to turn in the homework for Professor Todd to read and grade.

Sitting up on her bed, y/n forced a chuckle. “Yeah, I just feel a little weird, that’s all.”

“Mind if I sit here?” Professor Todd pointed to a space beside y/n on her bed, and walked over and plopped down once he received affirmation from y/n. “You know,” he started, hands at his knees as he turned his head to look at y/n, “to be fair, I didn’t know you were Tim and Steph’s friend. They told me after you passed my class, which was probably better than blurting it out before midterms.” Y/n nodded passively, still silent. “If this is what you’re feeling apprehensive about, I have no problem staying somewhere else for the time being. I wanted to visit for the summer, and—”

“No, no, it’s not a problem for me.” y/n stammered over her words, hiding her nerves. “Just a little awkward at first, that’s all.” Fidgeting with her nails, y/n attempted to maintain composure, but couldn’t help but notice the pair of hazel, soft as they observed y/n; his facial hair, reduced to a professional stubble; his bottom lip, cracked and bloody in areas from neglect; and all combined to replace y/n’s anxiety with a primitive need that sparked inside her.

She swore she saw the man’s eyes drop from her face to her chest, and then down to her barely exposed legs, before he looked away. “Then was it when you walked in on me?” Moment replaying in her head as it burned into her memory, y/n pretended to act in nescience of the subject at hand, shaking her head slowly. “So that wasn’t you running away scared shitless after peeping in my room?”

Y/n blinked back a laugh as she admitted, “It was, yeah. Sorry.”

“You know, if you wanted to see me shirtless, all you had to do was ask.” Fixated on the ground, y/n barely caught a glimpse at Professor Todd crossing his arms at his own words, almost amused with himself.

The tease caused a thick silence to ensue, and y/n was indecisive about how to respond. She thought it was a joke - it had to be, right? An educator with rigid morals, an attractive educator at that, relaxing beside y/n as he opened the door to invite her. It seemed cliche, if anything, recalling a handful of romantic tropes with the stench of an inappropriate teacher-student relationship.

But on the other hand, y/n calculated, he unbuttoned his top two buttons on his top, and rolled up his sleeves as he waited patiently for y/n to break the silence, exposing his toned forearms. He was no longer y/n’s professor - nor was she his protégé - and even if he was joking, what was the harm in flirting back?

“Do I have to ask nicely?” Y/n remarked, one end of her mouth twitching as she shifted to lie on the bed, this time on her side, with her legs near Jason’s waist.

She heard a beguiled noise of approval before an oral response. “Depends. Though I would prefer it if you beg.” One of Jason’s large hands rested on y/n’s knee, giving her a quick squeeze as his gaze met hers. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that Professor Todd’s eyes darkened, but y/n still felt nervous to make the move, only allowing Jason’s hand to burn her skin.

“Well,” y/n began before reaching out and cupping Jason’s chin, turning his cheek to face her as she whispered, “Can you please, please see you like that again?” she batted her eyelashes as she spoke, which caused Jason to groan in response. “I want to see if there’s anything else you can teach me.”

In a moment’s time, Jason was on top of y/n, straddling her hips as he pressed his lips to hers. His hands held her face as he immediately bit her top lip, cock hardening each time a smidgen of a moan was swallowed into the kiss.

Grasping at either of his biceps, y/n let out a relieved moan when Jason’s lips met her neck, head tilting back. Jason’s hands fumbled with her clothes, impatiently pulling it over her head before returning to explore her plump body.

“Do you have a condom?” y/n panted, heart rate increasing ever so slightly with each inch Jason’s lips crept toward the hem of her shorts.

Jason shook his head, murmuring in between kisses, “Don’t need one.” He untied the knot on yn/’s shorts before pulling them down, exposing her skin to the cold air. His hands wandered, driven by pure wanton and hazardous lust as he pinched possessively at the inside of y/n’s plush thighs. Y/n was soundless until Jason pushed her legs apart, sinking a finger into her dripping core as his lips attached to her clit. The action evoked a moan from her, and Jason watched as he continued, licking and sucking at her sensitive bundle of nerves until she drew y/n closer to release.

“Mr. Todd,” the professional title left y/n’s lips in the most sinful way, her hips lifting from the bed as she pleaded. “Please, I want—”

“Hush,” Jason muttered, “I want you to come on my fingers before I have my dick in your mouth. Now, Baby,” he flicked his tongue intermittently at y/n’s clit, two fingers curling at the spongy part of y/n’s inside. “Can you do me a favor and come for me?”

Though his words were respectful, his expression was almost needy, but still caused y/n to ride her hips against Jason’s mouth and fingers, set on achieving what was asked of her. She gasped as she reached her climax, hips lifting from the bed as her thighs trembled.

Jason worked through her high before rising from the bed to remove his remaining clothes, his cock springing free from his boxers as he stripped them from his body as well. Y/n eyed it as she hopped from the bed, positioning herself in front of Jason as she kneeled. She glanced up at him through thick eyelashes, hands unclasping the hooks of her bra to bare her breasts. Y/n knew it was something she looked forward to doing - wrapping a hand around Jason’s shaft as she stroked it achingly slow - if she reached that point, and exploited whatever experience she had to put on a show for the man towering over her. Dragging her tongue along the underside of his cock, y/n kept her gaze on Jason, watching how expressive he became at each movement she made.

Her favorite was the way Jason’s lips shaped into an ‘o’ when her lips kissed the tip of his uncut cock, licking at the precum already collecting on it. His body shivered as she bobbed her head, swallowing as much of his dick into her mouth as she could, and pulling her head back until his cock released from her mouth with a pop.

Y/n continued like this at a slow pace, tarnishing what residual patience Jason had left; it was soon, however, when Jason had enough and grabbed a fistful of y/n’s hair, bucking his hips into her mouth as he hissed. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned when y/n increased the pace, one hand working at his shaft and another kneading her own breast. Jason couldn’t help but feel helpless like this, seeing y/n wanting him this badly; so he allowed his mouth to fall open, eyes shutting as he felt himself nearing his climax. He warned her with a broken moan, “I’m gonna come,” that met y/n’s ears with a kiss to her core.

“Please be good and come for me.” y/n said sultrily, hands working faster to draw a reaction from the man above. The words caused Jason to whimper, his hips stuttering as he fell into a bumbling, moaning mess and came. Y/n caught each rope of cum released into her mouth, swallowing each bit as Jason came down from his high.

Y/n smirked up at Jason, who was panting from his climax, and smoothed her hands along his thighs. Standing on her feet, she kissed Jason’s cheek, and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “You know, you still haven’t taught me anything.”

“We have time. Until tomorrow’s lesson, hmm?” Jason assured, his voice tired but tainted with desire.

#jason todd #professor!jason todd #my post #mine #my work #fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x plus size reader #smut #do not fucking read if youre a minor gd #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x plus size reader #batfamily #wayne family

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scremogirl · 1 year ago

Note

PLZ MORE YAN SCHOOL PRES 😫😫😫🤞🤞🤞

✩𖤐☆𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄…

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐂𝐏

GN! Reader. ⚠︎︎warning. Threesome. NOT EDITED OR PROOF READ!

I can clearly see how much you all love Takenya so here’s a small little story about him (plus a surprise guest). Btw this isn’t connected for the main storyline it’s just a thought that popped into my head. READ THE NOTE AT THE END PLS.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” This kid again? Ugh! Why is he always following you around?! I mean, does he not have anything better to do?

“Didn’t I tell you that you need to meet me for our weekly study session? It is Friday, is it not?”

“It is. School is over though. I tried looking for you at lunch but you weren’t there,” damn… you’re right. He didn’t mean for the council meeting to run over time, but duty calls.

“Hmm, you’re right. I’m… sorry,” a soft chuckle erupts from behind you.

“I don’t think they heard you, Kenya… or should I say president. Mind speaking up a little bit?” Fists tighten and his jaw clenches; why you little-

“Oh c’mon,” he says dragging out the last syllable

“Don’t tell me the great Takenya Matsumoto, student council president, head of more than three clubs, son of a CEO, is having trouble saying a five letter word,” you turn your head a little to the side with a disapproving look, seriously Micah? All you get in return is an “innocent” smile. Sighing, you turn back to your would be tutor.

“Ignore him. How about I just shoot by tomorrow; it’s the weekend after all,” Finally! This is the first time you two have been alone in weeks; the warmth you provided has started to fade from memory, he defined can’t have that.

“Amazi-,”

“Wha-What! (Y/n), I thought you said you’d come to my house for a sleepover!” Oh. That’s right. You did say you’d be over today, maybe next time.

“Oh right. Sorry, Takenya. Maybe next time,”

“If there ever is a next time,” Micah adds under his breath. Grrrr! Who does this jerk think he is!?

“Wa-Wait!” You don’t make it very far before turning around, questioning what was the reason for the small outburst. With a grumble, Takenya explains himself.

“He… he can come too,” hm? Huh? It’s rare for those two to even breathe the same air let alone inviting each other over. Even if it’s unexpected, you're here now. Sandwiched between two men in a king sized bed, talk about personal space.

⚠︎︎

“Agh, fuck… you like that baby? Yea I know, just like old times,” Micah lets out a small chuckle as his hips continue to snap into you from behind. He sneaks a hand from where it previously was around your waist to your throat, using it as leverage for his brutal pace.

“Look at ‘em, angel. So sloppy, he can’t make you feel the way I do right?” Takenya scoffs but is soon replaced with a groan. The friction from Micah’s dick rubbing against his as you clamp down on him almost makes him cum right there . They’re both using your home as a battle ground at his point, trying their best to make you scream their name.

“Shut- ugh… Shut up Lemitzki,” he’s a mess right now. Long hair that was previously tied back falls around his shoulders, strands sticking to his forehead. Heaving and panting like a dog and sweat falling down his pale skin. He’s about to say more but he pauses before smirking.

“The only sloppy thing here will be them once I finish pumping them full of my cum,” his gaze shifts to you before leaning down and giving you a deep kiss.

“You want that, love? You want me to fill you up?” You nod your head so fast you honk your about to give yourself whiplash. He chuckles while bucking into you further, trying to forget the man under the both of you.

“Yea right, pretty boy; like I’ll let that happen. C’mon, pretty, let’s show him how I make you feel,”

No work was done

This was ASS like I’m not even confident in this and I might delete it if I see y’all ain’t rockin wit it. The smut part made me wanna skydive into a volcano. I’ve had no motivation because of this busy week. #finnashootthisbitchup. BUT I do have a Halloween special in the works and it finna BANG trust 🤞🏾. @constesplanetarium I can’t wait to go to ihop bruh.

#💕 anon #✩𖤐☆𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄…

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disneytva · 17 days ago

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November 2024 Programming Highlights

Friday, Nov. 1 Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Junior and Disney Channel Pupstruction “Petsgiving at PawPaw’s/Chilly Dogs” (2-15) (7:30-8:00 a.m. EDT on Disney Junior/8:00-8:30 a.m. EDT on Disney Channel) “Petsgiving at PawPaw’s” – When PawPaw hosts a Petsgiving feast at his farm, he needs the Pups to help harvest more veggies. *Craig T. Nelson (“The Incredibles”) guest stars as PawPaw.

“Chilly Dogs” – Pupstruction lends a paw when a truck slides onto a frozen pond. TV-Y

Friday, Nov. 8 Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Junior and Disney Channel Disney Jr.’s Ariel “The Lost Dogfish/Swim Scouts” (1-18) (9:00-9:30 a.m. EST on Disney Junior/10:00-10:30 a.m. EST on Disney Channel) “The Lost Dogfish” – Ariel really wants to keep a lost dogfish that she finds.

“Swim Scouts” – A visiting mer-boy joins Ariel and friends on a Swim Scouts field trip. *TV personality and science communicator Danni Washington guest stars as marine biologist Tantie Chantale. TV-Y

Saturday, Nov. 9 Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Channel and Disney XD ZOMBIES: The Re-Animated Series “Waved and Confused/Abandon Zip” (1-18) (11:00-11:30 a.m. EST) “Waved and Confused” – Zed gets tutored by a Debate Bot. Addison and Willa debate the importance of waving.

“Abandon Zip” – When a dangerous sinkhole forms in the hallway, Zed and Addison build a zipline to zip over it. TV-G

Friday, Nov. 15 Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Junior and Disney Channel Marvel’s Spidey and his Amazing Friends “Moon Girl and the Dino Dilemma/Hulk’s Squirrley Switch” (3-26) (7:30-8:00 a.m. EST on Disney Junior/8:30-9:00 a.m. EST on Disney Channel) “Moon Girl and the Dino Dilemma” – The Spideys team up with Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur to stop Green Goblin’s dino-mech.

“Hulk’s Squirrley Switch” – When Doc Ock swaps Hulk into the body of a squirrel, hero Squirrel Girl helps save him. TV-Y

Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Junior and Disney Channel Kindergarten: The Musical “Meet Me in Santo Domingo/Some Enchanted Second Grader” (1-18) (8:00-8:30 a.m. EST on Disney Junior/11:00-11:30 a.m. EST on Disney Channel) “Meet Me in Santo Domingo” – Berti is excited to visit her aunt in Santo Domingo until she learns she’ll miss Fun Friday.

“Some Enchanted Second Grader” – Kat copies every single thing second grader Carly says and does. TV-Y

Saturday, Nov. 16 Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Channel and Disney XD ZOMBIES: The Re-Animated Series “Crazy, Stupid, Crush/Ready Player Wynter” (1-19) (11:00-11:30 a.m. EST) “Crazy, Stupid, Crush” – Eliza and Wyatt both want to ask the other to the school dance, but mishaps keep getting in their way.

“Ready Player Wynter” – Feeling pressured to plan her future, Wynter uses VR to find her dream job. TV-G

Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Channel and Disney XD Big City Greens “Turkey Trouble/Hard Bargain” (4-11) (8:00-8:30 p.m. EST) “Turkey Trouble” – Bill begrudgingly joins Cricket to cover up a (turkey) crime on Thanksgiving.

“Hard Bargain” – The Greens get into crazy hijinks in a Smalton antique shop. TV-Y7

Friday, Nov. 22 Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Junior and Disney Channel Kindergarten: The Musical “Do You Hear the Students Sing?/Hello, Dino Dolly!” (1-14) (8:00-8:30 a.m. EST on Disney Junior/11:00-11:30 a.m. EST on Disney Channel) “Do You Hear the Students Sing?” – The kindergarteners write a song and sing it for the whole school.

“Hello, Dino Dolly!” – Tej brings his favorite dinosaur toy to school but doesn’t want his friends to play with it. TV-Y

Saturday, Nov. 23 Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Channel and Disney XD ZOMBIES: The Re-Animated Series “I Wanna Dance with SomeZombie” (1-20) (11:00-11:30 a.m. EST) Addison uses advanced alien powers that she’s not ready for yet and inadvertently causes destruction at the big school dance. TV-G

Friday, Nov. 29 Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Junior and Disney Channel Kindergarten: The Musical “Squish in Boots/Take Me or Leaf Me” (1-13) (8:00-8:30 a.m. EST on Disney Junior/9:00-9:30 a.m. EST on Disney Channel) “Squish in Boots” – Radish is afraid to tell Jamil his Boot-brella invention doesn’t work.

“Take Me or Leaf Me” – All of the kids are trading fruit erasers, but Radish wants them to play with his leaf collection. TV-Y

Original Series – Episode Premiere on Disney Junior and Disney Channel Disney Jr.’s Ariel “Daddy Daughter Adventure Day/Rainbow Sea Caves” (1-19) (9:00-9:30 a.m. EST on Disney Junior/9:30-10:00 a.m. EST on Disney Channel) “Daddy Daughter Adventure Day” – Ariel and Triton spend Daddy Daughter Adventure Day together.

“Rainbow Sea Caves” – Ariel and her friends explore the Rainbow Sea Caves. TV-Y

#Big City Greens #BCG #Zombies The Re-Animated Series #Zombies: The Re-Animated Series #ZOMBIES #Pupstruction #Kindergarten The Musical #Kindergarten: The Musical #Ariel #The Little Mermaid #Little Mermaid #The Little Mermaid (2023)#Little Mermaid (2023)#Spidey and his Amazing Friends #Disney Channel #Disney Junior #Disney Jr

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shitpostingfromthebarricade · 3 months ago

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In a World Without Heroes: deleted scene

Author's note: The Saturday morning interview scene between Grantaire and Enjolras in chapter 8 originally started from Grantaire's arrival and was intended to go through the events of the scene that has since replaced it. This scene ended up being replaced partly because the characterizations weren't panning out how I wanted (as you see by the end) and partly because it was dragging the scene/fic. Yes, it was good background for the reader, but ultimately (as Grantaire now comments in the replacement scene) this is the same thing Enjolras would have said in every interview since his release from prison, so it didn't make sense for Grantaire to be acting like he'd never tuned in for any of Best Boy's television interviews.

Anyway, I'm finally sharing it here because it's the backstory behind Mabeuf's Manhattan Autonomous Zone and Enjolras's arrest, and also I've been meaning to for uhhhhh two years. Enjoy.

By the time Grantaire texts that he’s on his way, Enjolras feels very nearly relieved.

He’d spent Friday evening catching up on what little cleaning has been neglected since the last time he had a guest — that is to say, since moving in — specifically in order to sleep in Saturday morning, only to find himself wide awake at 9AM with little to do but anticipate the events of the day.

“Hey,” says Grantaire when Enjolras lets him into the building. He’s dressed down from how he usually is at the correctional facility but up from what he wears at the Chinese restaurant, which makes Enjolras feel better about his choice in clothes today.

“Do you mind walking? I’m on the fourth floor.”

There’s hesitation, and Enjolras thinks Grantaire may be about to protest, but when he speaks it’s to say, “Yeah, sure. I haven’t had a leg day in a while.”

“You work out?” asks Enjolras, surprised.

“Nope. Lead the way.”

The walk occurs in silence except for their heavy breathing and a quick apology when someone coming down from the third floor brushes past, and then they’re at the door to Enjolras’s flat.

“Make yourself at home,” he says, heading for the kitchen. “Would you like anything? Tea? Water?”

“Seltzer if you’ve got it, water if you don’t.”

Seltzer. It’s what Grantaire has ordered both times they were out, too, and Enjolras makes a note that he should pick some up beforehand if they do this again.

There’s no reason for them to do this again, of course: with this past week’s interview completed, they’re over halfway finished with the collaborative part of the book, and there will be no reason for them to be spending time with one another anymore. Even with Enjolras’s resolution not to pursue a relationship with Grantaire, the prospect of their burgeoning friendship coming to a halt with the end of their professional correspondence makes Enjolras’s stomach twist.

He re-enters the living room with two waters, placing one on a coaster in front of Grantaire and sipping the other for something to do.

“Thanks,” says Grantaire belatedly. His eyes have been wandering around the flat since Enjolras’s return, and Enjolras wonders what he’s looking for. At last, his attention falls back on Enjolras. “You’re dressed different.”

Enjolras lets his eyebrows quirk in feigned surprise and glances down at himself as though he hadn’t spent fifteen minutes lingering over the decision that morning. When he was merely a law student and the point person for a far-left branch of a tutoring group, Enjolras had had a lot more flexibility in what he wore; since his release from prison, however, his wardrobe has become a rotation of the same six white dress shirts, three tones of neutral trousers, and the occasional matching suit jacket. Even on days when he isn’t working in some capacity or another, Enjolras finds himself dressing as inoffensively as possible in anticipation of someone’s inevitable recognition and the associations to follow. His attire hadn’t been particularly flamboyant before then, but his use for his green rally shirts and blue cozy clothes has certainly fallen to the wayside since.

Today, after nearly five minutes of deliberation, he had settled on a pair of gray-ish jeans, a pale red undershirt, and a blue fitted shirt he’d nearly forgotten that he owned. At the last second before he’d gone down to meet Grantaire Enojlras had pulled a white hoodie over, but already he feels himself overheating in the extra layer.

“Yes, well,” he shrugs, realizing that he should sit and taking the armchair on the far side from where Grantaire has seated himself, “I don’t need to leave today, so I can dress down.”

“That’s what it is! I haven’t seen you in jeans and a shirt without a collar since you got out.” Grantaire’s eyes suddenly narrow. “You aren’t wearing a collared shirt under that, are you?”

Despite his discomfort, Enjolras snorts. “I’m not.”

“I don’t know that I believe you.”

“My deepest condolences.” His retort is met with crinkling at the corners of Grantaire’s eyes before they divert altogether as his attention turns to his lap. Enjolras clears his throat. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you in purple. It looks nice.”

Glancing back up, Grantaire’s brows furrow as he looks over his clothes.

“The scarf,” Enjolras clarifies.

The outermost layer of the sheer material is picked up and rubbed under close scrutiny between Grantaire’s fingers. “I guess? I thought it was gray when I grabbed it this morning, but in this lighting it looks blue to me.”

The scarf is definitely purple, but it isn’t worth disputing. “It looks nice,” Enjolras instead repeats.

“Well cree, thanks.”

Taking a deep breath, Enjolras decides to put an end to the stall tactics. “The interview, then? How do you want to do this?”

“Uh. I was thinking just kinda like at the facility? You say what you want, and I respond and ask questions as they arise. Obviously no notetaking or recordings or anything, so it’ll pretty much be like a normal conversation that I know some of the answers to already.”

Nothing about it feels like a normal conversation, but Enjolras braces himself nevertheless. “Let’s begin, then.”

“You sure?” There’s a dubious crinkle between Grantaire’s eyebrows. “We can shoot the shit for a while longer if you want, let you get comfortable and whatnot.”

Resting his hands carefully over his knees, Enjolras arranges his features into a neutral façade. “I’m sure.”

Grantaire sighs deeply, a hand skating over his scarf and jerking the front back from his hairline as he scratches the back of his head. “Okay then. Well, where would you say it all started?”

He’s about to fall back on the polite clarifying tactics he’d been drilled on for televised interviews before when he realizes that he doesn’t have to. “Where what all started?”

Apparently Grantaire holds a similar amount of compunction toward his professionalism. “I dunno, whatever you want. The rally? Broletariat? Activism in general?”

Enjolras has managed to avoid shining a spotlight on his childhood this long, and his parents have made it clear that they have no interest in having their names attached to any of this, but beginning at the rally would feel like starting a sentence in the middle of a phrase. “Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and I have known each other since we were young,” he says, finally settling for their indoctrination to the betterment of humanity as a promising starting place, “and we all were accepted to and attended Columbia for undergrad and stayed for our graduate degrees. None of us were from New York City, and while we were studying, we saw a need in the local community for support, and we started up an afterschool tutoring group in conjunction with Barnard College’s urban teaching program. I believe they’re still running, though I lost touch with them while I was away.”

“On the road,” nods Grantaire.

“In jail.” There’s no use dancing around it now: if Enjolras can’t say it in front of Grantaire, who else is there?

“Right, that too.” Grantaire’s body is draped over the corner of Enjolras’s couch casually enough, but there’s a stiffness in his posturing and the way he rubs the tip of his thumb back and forth along the side of his index finger that makes Enjolras think he’s uncomfortable.

“The Broletariat’s inception was nearly accidental,” he continues. “Feuilly worked in the afterschool program at one of the schools we operated out of, and we got to discussing education law one day while he was packing up and I was waiting on a pupil and agreed to continue the conversation as a secondary location at a later date. It was never official, but it did become regular: once work and classes let out, more and more of us met under the guise of lesson planning or studying or spending time with friends, while under it all we were organizing.”

“Organizing what?”

Enjolras shakes his head. “At the time, we’d had no way of knowing. We could feel unrest building toward something, and we made sure that the channels of communication were open and to keep up with the news and share resources and to — to be prepared for any eventualities,” he says.

“Enjolras, I was there.”

“It occurs to me that announcing our weapons stores to the general public may not go over well.”

“Good thing you’re not announcing it to the general public, then.”

Enjolras sighs. “We were ready for anything, and one day, ‘anything’ finally had a name: Jean-Charles Mabeuf.

“Before his arrest, Mabeuf had been a churchwarden at a local church, a respected member of his community. His friends said he had an expansive collection of books and was trying to grow indigo to start a small business.”

“Does indigo grow well in New York City?” This time, it seems like a question Grantaire genuinely doesn’t know the answer to.

“Evidently not. At the time of his arrest, he was several months behind on rent, had nothing in his fridge, and his famous book collection had dwindled to hardly anything: he was destitute.”

“Tough break.”

Enjolras shoots a sharp look at Grantaire. “Do you remember what happened to him?”

“The prison left him to die of treatable causes, what more is there to know?”

“His landlord took him to court for the missing rent; Mabeuf had already fallen ill and couldn’t make it, and the judge issued a bench warrant. He was arrested for being sick and poor.”

“Well, I’m seeing why I would selectively have culled that bit if I heard it.”

Enjolras feels his nostrils flare at the flippancy, but a small part of his mind reminds him that the Grantaire in front of him is not the Grantaire who drank his way through the entire rebellion and every strategy meeting leading up to it. “I would be surprised if you hadn’t: his arrest hardly made the news. I’m told that his church was in the process of arranging some care package or another for him, but that most likely would have been the end of it if not for the pneumonia.”

Now comes the part that the news and everyone knows: all of the symptoms were recorded upon his intake, but no action was taken to treat him. Mabeuf remained in jail as he waited for his new court date, complaining every day of chest pains and requesting to be moved to the med pod. He was never moved, and on 1 June, at eighty years old, Jean-Charles François Mabeuf was found dead in his cell.

“With the release of the coroner’s report, his church community took to the web for Justice for Mabeuf. The movement against the privatized prison system had already existed and was merely on the backburners, and it seemed like the time for change had finally come.”

“Okay, so wait,” Grantaire interrupts. “I was a bit hazy on the details at the time, but I mostly chalked that up to a whole slew of substances combined with a complete and manufactured sense of total apathy; as it would turn out, I am still just as confused.”

Enjolras leans back expectantly in his seat. “About?”

“A couple of points, honestly, but mostly what an armed splinter from a tutoring club expected to happen.”

A fair question. “I was supposed to go into education law.”

Grantaire blinks. “Okay?”

“There’s no special concentration in legal programs to choose one’s specialization: you take the relevant courses offered, intern with firms that handle the sorts of cases you’re interested in, and once you pass the bar, pursue that area.”

“Got it.”

“Once you start looking into the way the United States education system is set up, it becomes immediately evident how inextricably linked all of these pieces are: children are born in low-income communities. Low income means that the property taxes that fund the schools amount to less, leading to fewer resources and higher drop-out rates. The wages in positions for unskilled labor aren’t enough to live on, so people either pick up more and more jobs until they’ve worked themselves to the bone and, quite often, to the point of their bodies breaking down, at which point the failings of the health system become painfully apparent; are turned out onto the streets, which exposes the failings of our government’s housing system and its rotting capitalist firmament; or turn to more lucrative but less legal job opportunities.

“Two of these are arrestable offenses disproportionately targeted communities of color, and the third skips past those steps directly to killing the dime-a-dozen wage slave.”

Grantaire stares at the coffee table in silence for long enough that Enjolras begins to suspect that he may not have been paying any attention at all before his brows finally furrow and he looks back up at Enjolras. “So what were you expecting to happen?”

He sighs. “I couldn’t rightly say what we expected to happen, but the goal was to draw national attention to any one of these points. If something gave, we thought that the whole system might crash down around it. Exposing the for-profit prison industrial complex as the corrupt, predatory, outdated, inherently racist system it is … it felt self-evident. The whole system is broken, let’s build a new one together that serves all of its citizens equally and doesn’t feature intentional loopholes for legalized slavery.”

Grantaire is quiet for a long time before he finally asks, almost too quietly for Enjolras to hear, “When did you realize it wasn’t going to work?”

‘When’ indeed. Enjolras makes no motion to answer. When had he known? Has he ever known? Perhaps he still doesn’t. “It still might,” is what he finally says. “We haven’t failed yet.”

Grantaire looks affronted. “You almost died, Enjolras.”

“I didn’t."

#in a world without heroes #shitposting sometimes writes #you can see why it got cut/rewritten #and I'm all for an iceberg #but it did annoy me that I couldn't find any natural way to explain how the MMAZ worked #oh I guess it still isn't addressed here #but there were a couple of meet-up points around the island that people were gathering #and they were all going to meet and converge on the [courthouse?] way way south of the island aka the location of MMAZ #but riot police and national guard ended up heading off all of the routes (I had a specific choke-point noted in my outline somewhere)#so the crew that was already at MMAZ ended up getting strangles without reinforcements or resources #and then the waves of tear gas and rubber bullets started #and the rest is IaWWH canon

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lowkeyclueless5137 · 2 years ago

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The Extravagant Sea Club II

Back at it again! The part 2 of the 2nd Palace... :3

Now let's see what we will have in here.

What we will cover:

-Exploring more the Palace

-Some time in the city

-Uncovering more of the Floyd mistery

-A round of chess

Now without further ado! Onto the exploration!

Another Friday meant a new tutoring session in between Riddle and Jade.

And this time, Riddle had all means to ask if Jade asked for these sessions just so he could keep an eye on him. Jade had no other option than to confirm that indeed, he did that only for that motive.

So they switched from studying to discussing, all at a game of chess that they found in the attic.

Their problem at hand was what exactly did Floyd hide from them. If even Jade didn't have an idea what was going on, it meant that it was most likely that Akira and Haru were in the blind as well.

Jade admits that Morgana was the only being that was with Floyd the most time. Riddle did reveal that Morgana was a metaverse being, which meant it was normal for the ones who passed through the metaverse to hear him talk instead of meows.

Their problem was now: how could they get Morgana if he was with Floyd almost all day?

Jade seemed to have an idea, so they called in the group to discuss. Of course, after Riddle beat him up at the game.

Sure, they could ask Haru or Akira, but Jade revealed that actually Morgana had an appointment at the vet next week. He just had to switch with Floyd to bring Morgana to the vet and there it was their little window of time for interrogation.

For now, Rook could keep the closest eye on Floyd, as he was a Kosei student.

They also set up codenames for Jade and Rook:

-Amore for Rook, as he himself self proclaimed the 'Hunter of love'.

-Siren for Jade, as he was named the 'dream boy' of Shujin.

So the day was marked off with another Palace investigation.

In the palace, now Jade's persona was revealed to be a tracker, keeping tabs on any and all persons in the aera. With this, Jade's persona needed a map in order to give out instructions regarding their positions.

So passing by 2 more clubs, they found themselves halfway through the palace, at a bigger building, which wasn't a club.

It was the security building, akin to some kind of museum.

There were different rooms, with files that had photos of students in certain poses. In these files it was their name and what they were 'working as', which was also their 'best subject' in real life. Notable were jobs like: main dancer/barman in the [...] club/bar or entertainer/guests. They also had a description and a history of their 'employment'.

The ones who were entertainers/guests were the ones who didn't bring to the school any trophy or good results, as Amore noted. This security building apparently was a way of tracking records of the students, to see if they are worth something.

An interesting file, as both Siren and Amore noted, was one of a 'barman': Azul Ashengrotto. In his file it was mentioned a suspected 'tax evasion attempt' along with the possibility of him 'stealing from the bar income'. It meant that this Azul was on a thin line.

And then they stumbled upon 'security' section. In this section, most students were coming off wealthy families or families who had ties around. Siren recognised a few of them as being students which Floyd picked a fight with. He actually remembered that once he found Floyd in a beat-up with one of them on a subject the twin didn't share at all.

The next eye catching section was 'fired/criminal records'.

And in there, files were found of students. Previous graduates or current students, all with different charges. All of them were written at the bottom either 'gradurated' or 'expelled'.

And a more hefty file, was one which was written 'Floyd Leech'.

Siren had the honor of opening it and reading through it. In this one, Floyd was 'charged' multiple times for violence against the bodyguards, getting away the performers from their show time, disturbing the peace and many more. But also in his file it was mentioned the fact that he was a 'valuable employee', which covered for all the charges.

Currently, Floyd's file specified that he was 'on board'.

For the day, this was all they could get.

Back at Leblanc, the group did talk with Futaba about how this palace seems more complicated than before. Futaba does mention that if only she could summon her persona, she could map it out for them. But alas, she accepted it and by now everything was fine.

A tad bit later, it seemed like 4 persons came in. A man, with his young nephew, who opened the door first for. Haru, who came with Floyd and Morgana. Although the man himself just ordered the regular and occupied a spot as his nephew ran around a bit.

Meanwhile, Haru had a very Grimm expression, Floyd looking down like a kicked puppy. At this, Futaba did prepare the orders, before telling the kids to stay here, while the 2 women take it to the attic.

Vil is the one who breaks the silence and asks what's with Floyd hiding his face like that. Floyd responds that it isn't their business and doesn't even look at them. But Jade is the one who jerks Floyd to look at him, making all of the group to gasp.

Floyd had a black right eye and on his bottom lip was bleeding a bit.

Floyd seemed very annoyed and brushed Jade off when he asked what happened. Jade was keeping his composed self, but it was clear that his worry would crack him up.

They get cut off by the little child that was looking at them, wanting to pet Morgana. The regular at the table told his nephew to leave them alone. And a tad bit later, because of the chatter, the regular left the money on the table, telling to Ortho that his mom can keep the change, before leaving.

Now alone, Jade again pursued Floyd. Riddle got in between and said that first maybe they should see if he had other wounds that would need to be treated.

So despite their insistences, Riddle had Ortho and Deuce fetch him what he needed as he treated Floyd in the bathroom, the others 'waiting with Morgana'.

~~~~~~~~

"It stings!" Floyd hissed in pain as he yanked his hand off Riddle's hold, but he was unsuccessful, as the redhead had a more powerful grip on it. "Well it would hurt less if you would stop moving around and whining." He replied, quite annoyed. "Where did you even manage to cut yourself?!" The redhead grumbled.

"None of ya business... You will tell Jade anyway..." Floyd grumbled.

"And what if I don't?" Riddle asked, gently putting a plaster over the cut, making sure to cover it in one go. "What if I don't tell your brother anything you tell me in here? I can easily say you only whined about the wound cleaning... Which you did..." "Because it's stingy!" "I was just water at first!" "Still!" Riddle rolled his eyes.

"Maybe this is why your brother wants to find out... You whine about everything!" Riddle accused. "I whine?! Ya don't know shit about me!" "I do not need to know a lot about you to know you're a pain to deal with! Now stay still!" Riddle tried to grab at the other's face, but Floyd pulled out. "Ah hell nah! Not again!" "Your lip is bleeding! At least let me clean it so you won't risk an infection!" Riddle protested. "Who even cares?! That fucker broke it last month too and nothing happened!"

Riddle stopped at that. "You were beaten up last month too?" "who do you take me for? A pussy? I would beat those son of bitches every week. Not my fault they manage to land a few punches as well..." Floyd grumbled. Riddle just exhaled as he washed his hands at the sink.

"Maybe you should try to stay out of fights... Maybe your family is worried about it." "I will be alright... It's not like I can control people from picking up a fight." "But you can control yourself from going into the fights." Riddle argued. It was a small silence.

"It's not that simple goldfishie... Some fights just need to be done... Maybe not for my sake... And you would never understand that one..."

~~~~~~~~

After that, both of them leaved it at that. Floyd let Riddle to at least clean his lip wound and both leaved it at that. Out of the bathroom, none said anything and only passed the sounds from the bathroom as just 'Floyd being dramatic and Riddle adding fuel to the fire'.

But someone heard them still. Someone with a very delicate hearing.

When they exited the bathroom, everyone failed to see that Ortho was next to the door. And so, he kept it silent until at night, when he and Riddle had a sleep over.

Ortho did ask why Riddle didn't tell the others what really went down in there. Even after the twins left or in the group chat.

Riddle did nag Ortho for prying into the conversation, but added that he said he won't tell anyone. And even if the promise was on one side, Riddle would honor it as those were the rules of a promise.

Ortho also filled Riddle on what Morgana told them. Apparently Floyd got in a fight with the son of the principal, Fuyuhiko Suguru over the topic of Mikan Takahashi, a 2nd year who appearently was mute and deaf. Morgana revealed that Floyd always got physical with Fuyuhiko, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. That guy kept on pressing his buttons over the topic of some girls Floyd hangs out with being 'pathetic'. Morgana said that there are times when Floyd has to leave him along his bag at the lockers, that being the time when Morgana cannot grasp anything about what Floyd might do, but it's in those moments that apparently Floyd switches his moods or would come back very furios, to the point of slamming the locker shut so loud other students would run out of his way.

So with the palace representing the father's perspective of the school, it could only add that the son was most likely hand in hand with him.

And Floyd was a thorn in their side.

The next day, the group gathered up at Kosei, so far what they gathered was enough to raise suspicions about the principal, not just to incriminate him. So they needed to catch him in the act. With Morgana giving them the lead of Fuyuhiko being a 2nd year, the group were assured that he would get out the same time as Floyd. Only Riddle and Jade got out earlier, so they both decided to go together and wait for Floyd, with the excuse of 'Planning to move the tutoring session'.

But as they were waiting, Jade got a call from a classmate, so he had to answer it. That's when Riddle noticed someone going behind the school.

It was one of those girls. And she seemed to be hurried, messaging someone.

Curiosity got the best of Riddle as he left Jade to see what was going on. The girl notices him, telling Riddle to go and call for some help, but the redhead payed no mind as he peeked in.

A fight broke out in there. In between Floyd and some other dudes, one of them armed.

And Riddle stepped in, demanding for them to stop it, otherwise he will inform not the principal, but the police.

That's when everything goes south.

~~~~~~~~

"would you look at that! The little prick thinks he can play the hero... Whatcha say, Floyd? Eh? Ya know this one?" one of the boys, a quite smartly dressed one, said. "It doesn't matter! You were ganging up on him!" Riddle insisted loud and clear. Floyd tho, grunted.

"I... Don't know this guy... Scram already! You aren't even from this school..." The taller breathed.

"I won't go away until you leave him alone! You!" Riddle pointed towards the girl. "m-me?!" "Get the officer from across the street... NOW!" "YES!" the girl automatically responded, running away.

"Let's scram-" one of the boys whispered to who Riddle presumed was their leader, but he was interrupted. "no..." they mused, punching Floyd in the stomach as he made the boy to topple on his feet. "Let's take care of this little goodie two shoes firs-" Riddle instinctively made a step backwards.

THUD!

Floyd wiped the corner of his mouth after he spit on the ground. He punched the guy square in the face, before kicking off the other 2 who were took by surprise. Grabbing Riddle by the arm, Floyd headed with the redhead out of the aera. "I told you to scram!" He grunted. "well it's a good thing I don't listen to you!" "Well you should!"

Riddle felt as he was grabbed by the collar. Floyd grabbed him. "listen here, goldfish... I don't give a flying fuck about your prissy rules. So go back to Shujin and don't mingle in other people's business." He threatened.

"what is the meaning of this?!" a voice said.

Looking at the one who called, it was a quite gruff man, a bit chubby with the hairline quite receding. Before them, the 3 guys layed down and dramatically whined. Floyd immediately let go of Riddle. "It isn't what it looks like!" The redhead protested.

But the man showed a smug smile. "Oh but it is what it looks like. I was so lucky to bump into Mrs Owari on my way out..." The man mused. At this, Floyd clenched his teeth. "What did you do to her, you son of a-" He charged, but Riddle grabbed him by the arm. "stop it!" he demanded.

"Yes, Leech... Stop it... Otherwise we would have to add more onto the list of problems you make. What would your mother say when I will call her about it?" The man taunted. Floyd clenched his fists, but ultimately he opened them, leaving his arms to hand around his body. The man seemed to come closer.

SLAP!

Floyd received a slap onto his face, making him to turn his head in response. "Let go of the poor boy, you monster... If only you weren't a 'gifted child', you would have ended up on the streets, with your poor mother unable to do anything! When will you stop picking up on students?" the man nagged, but Floyd whispered something. "What was that?"

"I will stop fighting when you will stop trying to get students in your pants..."

"whatcha said about my dad?" one of the guys rose up, like the others, getting close to Floyd, but behind the man so that Floyd wouldn't be able to reach him. The other was ready to reply when he felt a tug on his arm.

Looking behind, Riddle was tugging onto his sleeve. "Come with me..." He demanded in a whisper. Floyd looked in between the redhead and the group, before gritting his teeth and turning towards Riddle. "I'm not in the mood anymore... I'm going home..." He grumbled.

"Good... Then maybe tell your mother I expected her to drop by my office for a chat about your behaviour..."

Riddle noticed how Floyd was again clenching his fists tightly, so he tugged again on his sleeve. "Don't get close to him, boy. You're too pretty and innocent and he might harm you..." The principal said with a way too sweet smile as he forcefully grabbed Riddle's arm, the redhead trying to protest against it. "I am fine on my own!" He tried to protest, but the. An gad none of it. "Nonsense... I promise I won't be harsh on you..." He mused. This seemed to trigger Floyd, as he charged forward.

And pruncdhed the principal in the face. "Get your hands off him, you dirty son of a bitch!" He yelled, yanking Riddle free from the other's grip. "Thanks..." Riddle gasped silently.

"Go on, Fuyuhiko... Show the poor boy around. He must've gotten lost and stumbled upon this scene... Trusting Floyd with such matters would just beg for a disaster." the man mused, before leaving first with a groan, as the boys seemed to be in better spirits, 2 of them cracking their knuckles. "With pleasure, sir..." the one Riddle assumed was Fuyuhiko, said as they approached the 2.

"Go... I can deal with them..." Floyd mused. "stop playing the martyr act and run, you idiot!" Riddle demanded as he dragged the other into a sprint, the other 3 took aback by the sudden fleeing method.

All while that, Riddle pulled out his phone. He had to get Jade to know where they were.

"the metanav! We can't escape those by simply running up the streets!" a voice was heard. "Morgana! Shush!" Floyd demanded. "You have a cat in your bag?!" Riddle tried to act surprised. "Not the time! Run!" Floyd demanded as he was hearing the other guys after them.

"do you trust me?" "At this point? Absolutely not..." "Good enough..." the redhead mused as he tapped onto his phone.

Making a harsh turn, luckily none of them fell down as they headed behind a building. "You can't hide! That's a dead en-" the 3 boys made the turn as well on the alley.

But there was no one in there.

~~~~~~~~

(Explanation format yay! :3)

After that, the 3 debate if they probabily had them make a turn a bit more earlier/later and they mistook it.

Meanwhile, Floyd found himself in the Extravagant Sea Club, with Rose and Mona. Imagine that scene with Iugene and Rapunzel, but make it Floyd and Rose:

Floyd: D:

Rose: Don't scream!

Floyd: *strangled noises*

But on the real side, Floyd was in awe that they were on the sea, on a bigass floating city. Or more like a floating club.

Yeah, he still lost his shit when he realised Morgana was that cat creature that got out of his bag. U-U

Rose explains that they cannot stay too much in one place, so he nudged Floyd to come with him to a safe room. In there, Mona could use a healing spell on the 2, assuring at least that both were in great condition, in case shadows get in their way.

And with all the explanations, what Floyd concluded was the next: This is how the principal of Kosei views his school and it's students.

And it made Floyd even more mad than before.

Instead of freaking out/getting angry at first like the rest did, Floyd demanded to know if there is a way he can change this cognitive world. Mona and Rose did tell him that they are working on it and that he shouldn't get involved in such thing, as it was way too dangerous.

But Floyd had none of it. He wanted to make the principal pay for it with his own hand.

Mona said that they could explore this palace a bit more if he doubles as a protection for Floyd. Despite the taller's protests that he did not need protection, it was already decided.

And so they passed a bit more from the half of the palace, reaching into the next club, which seemed to be extremely lavish and luxurious. Too much if you asked Rose.

And it just so happened for a show to commence.

Before any of them could say anything, Mona declared that they should stay in the public and pretend to be guests as to not attract too much suspicion. It was a big stage in there, and behind it, a throne on which a cognitive principal stood. Rose recognised it as being the man from before, but with the pinkish skin and the yellow eyes, it wasn't a professional looking imagine.

And that's when the gigantic bar glass from the changing rooms was brought forward.

And along with it, someone else came in. Someone that Floyd knew all too well.

~~~~(Tw for blood)~~~~

"Mikan..." Floyd whispered, eyes as big as plates as he looked at the girl that stepped on the stage.

Long black hair tied in a neat ponytail, fairly pale skin as the girl in question wore some sparkly heels and a bathing suit that was bedazzled with colorful glitter.

Rose only looked at the boy, much like Mona. "Mikan is his friend... They are very close..." The cat like being noted, seeing how Floyd made his way towards the front row. No one seemed to mind him as all the eyes were on the girl that started her performance alongside the glass prop.

But Floyd was silent as well. He knew shouting or calling will do nothing. She didn't even look in his way, so Floyd could do nothing about it.

The performance felt way too long and gruesome for Floyd, who in response, clenched his fist and punched the stage wall. The sound seemed to perk the attention of the palace ruler as he looked down towards Floyd.

"Well well well... If it isn't the little troublemaker..." The man smiled as he rose from his throne, grabbing Mikan close to him, the girl lovingly accepting the hold as it was hugging the man. "What brings you here I wonder? Maybe... Beg for forgiveness?" The man mused with a wicked smile, Floyd only threw him a glare.

"Today I am in a very good mood..." He poked his fingers and immediately bodyguards were summoned and holded down Rose and Mona. Floyd turned towards them in surprise, only to get a punch in his face, making him to fall on the ground and groan.

"Should I execute this scum, sir?" A tall boy dressed in all black, with a 'security chief' badge on, said. "Fuyuhiko, you bitch..." Floyd grumbled. "I still want to give him a chance... He looks... Promising..." The man mused.

"If not... Maybe his mother will be down for a round? She looks more promising than him... Much like his buddies... Alas, why they stay near a scum like him is a mistery..."

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Floyd immediately shot up, punching the shadow in the face. "You dare lay a finger on my norther or my buddies... And you are dead!" He threatened, but his threat fell on deaf ears as the cognitive Fuyuhiko holded him by the nape and shocked him with an taser.

"Oh and why is that? Everyone wants to be on my good side... Not my fault they go an extra mile and offer me something in return... Your little adorable friend, Mikan, could've said anything to stop it and I would have listened..." the man smiled wickedly.

"She is mute! You just take advantage of her! The other girls too!" Floyd weakly struggled. "Sir, let me exterminate him... He's getting way too annoying." the cognitive Fuyuhiko scratched his ear bored. "Do as you will... He's proven way too many times that he's useless..."

Are you going to let yourself be defeated? After all those times of fighting?

Floyd let out an inhuman scream of pain, struggling more against the grip of the shadow, kicking and moving as if he would suffocate if not. "Kill him!" The palace ruler roared, before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Give me a motive on why I should help you?

"I will make them pay..." Floyd breathed out, using his elbow to hit the shadow in the jaw and free himself. "I WILL MAKE YOU PAY, YA HEARD ME, FUNE SUGURU?!" He screamed.

Revenge... It is enough for me...

Mona freed himself and Rose out of the other's grip as Rose grabbed the cat like being and used one of his personas to clear off the room. Meanwhile, Floyd seemed to grip on something that was on his face, moving around and screaming like a mad man.

It wasn't a scream of pain, rather one of amusement and pleasure.

I am thou... Thou art I... The sea will be your sword and shield... And the list for bloodshed will be your power...

"COME AT ME!" Floyd yanked his head backwards with a lunatic laugh, dropping off his mask on the ground. Blood dripped of his flesh ripped face, tickling as it trailed down his neck and hands. Floyd only looked bored at the cognitive Fuyuhiko that called for back-up, the blood finally igniting in an explosion that threw everyone, weather allies or enemies, into the walls of the room.

"I am not in the mood for chat..." Floyd didn't even spare a glance at his new attire or at the fact that behind him a ghost of a long merman under the form of a pirate ship was floating, the chains around it rattling loudly.

"So stay still so I could kill you quick..."

~~~~~~~~

Oh Floyd was on for a bloodshed. Even cognitive Fuyuhiko had to turn into his shadowy self so he could charge forward, but Floyd had none of it, charging forward and battling it weapon to weapon. His weapon of choice were the ribbon tied knives, which gave him both a long and short range, much like a very dangerous yo-yo.

In the mist of the battle, a masked guard kinda tried to save themselves and run to get even more back up, in order to outnumber the boys.

That's when a 4th figure leaped from the shadows, landed gracefully behind that guard and yanked off their mask, with the infamous 'Show me your true self'.

Joker is back, baby! :3

And as the battle was over, Floyd seemed to bearly stay in his feet. He used way too much energy on the battle and his emotions got the best of him.

Thankfully his dad his here to pick the kids to a safe room. :D

In the safe room, the group got to rest a bit and Joker/Akira, decided to have a heart to heart with his son.

Floyd did break down finally, admitting that the principal was harassing the students, so Floyd had none of it and stepped in between, which led to a silent war in between him and the principal. Students who were way too scared of the principal started to hang out with him, as they were his main targets. And Floyd tried to do his utter best, but he couldn't always protect them.

Mikan tho, was the one Floyd made an active effort to befriend. He learned sign language to make it easier for her to understand him. Mikan was excellent at lip reading, but even so, Floyd tried to make an effort, because she was truly nice to him and stood up to him in his first year against Fuyuhiko. Floyd even has a sign name that Mikan gave to him, which meant mostly 'Silly eel'.

And Floyd felt like shit to know that he could've done much more about it, but didn't do anything in the end. He felt ashamed to even tell his family that he got in trouble almost every day because of it.

And Joker reassures, saying that he only wanted to protect those in need. It was Nostalgic, bringing Joker to how he got on probation and how that story ended. In the end, if he didn't punch that mf that night, he wouldn't have meet his friends, he wouldn't have discovered the metaverse and he wouldn't have met Floyd and Jade's mom.

So they have a fluffy chat and a hug, before going back to the real world. :3

Now to light up the mood, Akira tells Floyd that as long as Mrs Kurusu doesn't find out, they could take the liberty to steal sum shit and vandalise the palace just a tiny bit. :3

Unfortunately for them, Haru immediately found them and heard their plan. And she was NOT happy about it.

Riddle gets off scout free, cuz he was called by Ortho to come to LeBlanc. :'3

The next day, both twins join the group at Leblanc along Morgana. Floyd and Jade filled them up that now, Floyd was risking expulsion because he punched the principal when he tried to get Riddle.

Their new deadline: By the end of the month, when Haru confirmed her schedule was free enough so she can pay a visit and address the situation.

It took a wild back and forth, but in the end, Floyd got assigned (skeptically) a codename: Knight. Rook dramatically said that it fits because of the way Floyd protects the innocents, as if he goes by an oath. Floyd brushed him off cuz 'why tf is this dude here?'.

Now they had a deadline and more than half of the palace explored. :3

Unfortunately, the other part was a high security one, which seemed to take more than the others.

And this is where we put the small stop for now... :3

And yay! Floyd joins in! :3c

Actually I would absolutely go more in depth with his backstory, since it only paints the principal in even more of a bad light... Probably it's a few of the actual backstories that aren't that deep, but they hit you where it hurts.

Until next time! Buh bye! :D

#twisted wonderland #p5 x twst #We like a feral boi #Also sum angst #It's just there

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spyskrapbook · 2 years ago

Photo

Friday Guest Tutors: Philip Christou & Conor Keappock _ London Metropolitan University _ BA Studio 05 _ Studio lead: Theodoros Thysiadis | Studio co-leads: Spyridon Kaprinis and Chris Smith _ 05.05.2023 “Our Friday guest tutors were Philip Christou, Emeritus professor of Architectural Design at LMU and UEL and co-director of the Architecture Research Unit, one the most influential design practices internationally, and Conor Keappock, a trained architect and a leading member of the regeneration team at Walthamstow with similar posts held in the borough of Hackney.”

“UG Architecture Studio 05: Existing/Proposed: Making the most of what is there already”

https://www.londonmet.ac.uk/schools/art-architecture-and-design/studios/2022/undergraduate-architecture/ugarchitecturestudio-05/ Photos by Spyridon Kaprinis [05.05.2023].

#Friday Guest Tutors #London Metropolitan University #UG Architecture Studio 05 #BA Studio 05 #Theodoros Thysiadis #Spyridon Kaprinis #Chris Smith #Philip Christou #LMU #UEL #Architecture Research Unit #ARU #Conor Keappock #Walthamstow #Hackney #Existing/Proposed #London #UK #2023

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taliatravels · 4 months ago

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Usually, I procrastinate writing these wrap up posts for the blog, but sitting in the airplane flying above the Mediterranean Sea, I've felt the sudden inspiration to reflect.

On the drive back from Sipi, I read all my blog posts from the last time I was in Uganda. It's not often that I retrace my previous steps so closely, but it was interesting to read through the posts then. My writing style has changed a ton--hopefully for the better--but I also noticed some funny coincidences, like both Sipi posts ended on a sappy reflection on the group I was with.

Talking with Sunna the other day, she asked how I was enjoying the trip, and after giving her a quick rundown of the trip, she said, "Sounds like you've been lucky. Usually, upon returning, you find that the memories were better."

"Lucky," that's the word that's been bouncing around my head for the last four weeks. I am lucky that nine years ago, Kelly called the Iacocca office and told them they needed to accept me. I am lucky that I have a job with such a generous sabbatical policy (Thanks, Lowe Group!) that allowed me to take off four weeks to come back. I am lucky that I could come back, especially when others weren't able to. I am lucky that everyone in the Zaale family is happy and healthy. I am lucky that the group of Lehigh students this year was absolutely fantastic.

I feel so lucky. I am so, so lucky.

To the Zaale family, thank you for having me back and for continuing to work tirelessly to better the lives of the people in your community. To have the chance to sit with Maayi and Paapa and learn about the amazing life they've lived and all they've seen is a blessing, and to reconnect with John, my Ugandan brother, and meet his wife and three beautiful sons, was truly the cherry on top.

To PDI and its workers, it was great to see how the organization has grown and all their plans for future growth. To see the work that they do, preparing kids for school, tutoring high school students, giving teen moms a second chance, helping to empower female athletes, and more was amazing. It was great to finally meet Ganet, Katse, Tau and Friday, along with Teacher Sara and Teacher Ida, who work so hard for the people of Bududa District.

To Kelly and Mark, a huge thank you for helping me with some of the logistics of this trip and for letting me tag along with your group. I couldn't have done it without you.

And last but not least, to the Lehigh students, I am so happy to have had the chance to meet you all. From 5 am wake up calls on safari to gossiping in the guest house to singing along to your carefully curated playlists in the matatu to the biweekly "Stubs led walks" to playing Spot It at all hours of the day and night, I had so much fun with you all. I know from personal experience how my time in Uganda during my junior year chanced my life for the better, and I hope with all my heart that this trip has helped you all become the people you're meant to be.

Anyway, I think this is sappy enough as is, and I feel that overall, my Uganda posts have been sappier than normal. Yet, as I fly home, wondering where the time has gone, I hope you know just how full my heart is.

#talia does uganda #uganda #lehigh university #lehigh #reunion #reflection

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limerence-17 · 2 years ago

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BUT I DIDN'T BRING A BATHING SUIT

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

not intended for minors. do NOT read if you are not 18+!

–pairing: !fem reader x steve harrington

–word count: 3.4k words

–summary: after carol and tommy ditch you at steve's house while drunk, steve and you decide to go swimming instead of small talk...

–warnings: NSFW, mutual masturbation (m receiving and f receiving,) p in v sex unprotected (don't do this kids,) fingering, handjobs, kissing/ making out, smoking, drinking, swearing

A/N: this is so shameless, literally just pure filth there's basically no storyline so have fun lmao.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

it wasn't your idea to go to steve's, especially since you couldn't stand the guy and his cockiness and stuck-up attitude. you never admitted it to your friend carol but you were starting to hate her too. ever since she started dating that tool tommy in grade 11 she was starting to become so distant, and you hated to say it but a shitty friend too, always putting you second and talking behind your back.

you didn't know steve very well besides tutoring a couple of times last year, but from what you could tell about the king of hawkins high there was not much to him besides being a douchebag, sleeping around the school and being well known as the high school playboy. carol said that he was good for a party and had a huge house which they could benefit from since his parents were always out of town, and always had extra beers lying around.

it was a friday night, around 11pm and you'd only had one beer as you lounged at the side of his pool. you were sitting, slouching slightly feeling less uptight and awkward with the warmth of the alcohol running through your bloodstream. you crossed your legs tightly, feeling your thighs press together in your light denim short shorts. you were wearing a lavender knit sweater and your hair was down, blowing in the wind slightly from the cool september breeze.

beside you sat tommy and carol, although you wouldn't even call it that because it was basically just carol straddling tommy from the back. they were both obnoxiously cackling and were clearly far more intoxicated than you were and you could feel your social battery starting to drain.

"hey steveee," carol whined in a question-like tone. tommy giggled from behind her and had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. you couldn't help but roll your eyes slightly at the sight of them.

"ok- you know what, if you're gonna beg if you can use my bedroom then god no- you can use the guest one just... clean up your mess... you two are foul sometimes," steve says rolling his eyes and taking another swig from his can of beer.

"i fucking love you man!" tommy shouts, grunting a bit while picking up carol while holding her waist. carol starts giggling as tommy carries her bridal style inside. they're both so loud and carry the conversation so often that you don't even realize how quiet it gets now that you're alone with steve sitting by the pool. there's the distant laughing of carol and tommy in the background as the screen door closes behind them.

it's quiet now. all you can hear is the bubbling from the pool and the sounds of the jets humming softly. there are crickets in the back forest behind the pool, and you feel self-conscious suddenly, shifting your legs so that your thighs are pressed tighter together now.

steve leans over to the white table beside his lawn chair, grabbing the pack of cigarettes that rests there.

"sorry about carol and tommy, they can get like that sometimes- especially when there's drinking involved y'know?" steve says, although it doesn't really feel like a question. he grabs a lighter from his pocket, lighting the cigarette quickly and breathing in a puff of smoke. as he exhales, he turns to make eye contact with you. you're not sure what it is, whether the moonlight or perhaps your nature of being oblivious to these things but steve looked good. more than good, he looked pretty with his dark brown doe-eyes and bouncy hair.

"honestly carol's been like this for a while, being a third wheel is my second nature at this rate," you says, crossing your arms, leaning back a bit onto the chair.

steve sucks in another puff, and on the exhale he speaks up.

"i hope you know that just because they're not hanging with us right now doesn't mean we can't talk or something- i know we don't really hang out much but i don't want you to go to sleep already just because they're a couple of horny kids," steve says.

you can't help but wonder if he hadn't already had two beers and if would he be this talkative.

"really?" you ask, it sounds kind of funny as the words leave your mouth, like a silly joke. steve could barely even remember your name, let alone give you the time of day. you only really spent time with him because of tommy.

"you say that like it's shocking or something," steve says laughing and you realize how perplexed you came across with that question.

"i don't know... sorry, i guess it's just weird- i wouldn't expect you to be nice to me," you say. it's true now that you think about it. steve ignores you majority of the time you're with tommy and carol and ignores you completely when it's just you at school.

"what are you talking about? why wouldn't i be nice to you?" he asks. he seems genuinely confused by this.

"well you're not exactly mr. talkative when we're all hanging out, especially towards me," you say sarcastically, raising your eyebrows.

"look i know we're not super close or anything but i think i just don't know how to talk to you. it's weird i can't explain it that good with words but you're one of the only people who i feel speechless around, it's like you make me nervous or something," he says practically with one breath.

"are you being serious right now?"

"yeah i mean when we were studying and you were helping me out i- i don't know it's like i want us to get along so badly but i need a way for us to talk to each other," he says eagerly, running a hand through his brown locks.

"talk to each other?" you ask.

"it's just- i don't want anything to be weird between us." steve starts, pursing his lips as he focuses on his next words carefully.

"y'know with tommy being my best friend and carol being yours and all, we should be able to hang out by ourselves too. we shouldn't need them here for us to get along," steve admits.

steve sits up now, paying more attentively to you, he places one hand on his thigh, he's got his middle and ring finger drawing circles around his right knee. you can't tell if it's on purpose or not but either way the sight of it gives you butterflies in your stomach.

"oh i don't know steve, i'm not really in the mood for talking right now," you say, meaning it a lot more innocent than it comes across as.

steve's eyes go wide and you can tell he's taken it in a dirty way. the poor boy, so dirty-minded.

"hey! not that way! you're such a teenager steve harrington," you joke laughing softly, avoiding eye contact with him.

"ok good cause i was starting to think i was about to have another tommy and carol situation on my hands," he jokes, taking one last puff from his cigarette and putting it beside him on the table into the ashtray. once the laughter to ease the awkward small-talk dies down, steve jumps in again.

"so i know you don't wanna talk and that's totally cool i get it, but does that mean we can't at least go for a swim?" steve proposes.

you shrug awkwardly, leaning back a bit more onto the lawn chair. "sure but i didn't bring a swimsuit steve," you say, scoffing a bit thinking the conversation is about to die, but to your surprise steve perks up.

"oh fuck swimsuits! who gives a shit? just jump in!" steve exclaims. his nature is calming and charming and you can feel yourself easing into his charisma for the first time in all your months of spending time with him. you shift awkwardly, unsure of what to say to that.

"in my clothes?" you ask, it sounds a little silly.

"oh-yeah! yeah clothes for sure," he says, although he sounds unsure of his answer.

"i'm not swimming in my clothes steve do you know how uncomfortable that would be," you say, the thought making your skin crawl.

"ok yeah that's fine, i just thought it would've been more fun than tal-" steve starts but you cut him off.

"i'll just take them off," you say innocently, your lips pouted slightly almost looking at him for confirmation. steve's eyebrows go higher and his eyes widen. he looks hungry now, and a little turned on.

"y-you're gonna take off your clothes?" he asks, a little dumbfounded, looking at your more intently now.

"only if you do too harrington, this was your idea after all," you say, smirking.

"ah! ah! swimming was my idea, a drunken skinny dip was all you," he says, raising his voice in a joking manner. you stand up, whipping off your sweater without a second thought. you've got a black underwire bra on, perking your nipples up from the cool breeze you feel against your upper body, giving your goosebumps.

steve looks too stunned to say anything, his mouth drops a bit and he's glaring at you with intensity, desperation now. you're clearly teasing him now, pulling your shorts down revealing your lace sage green underwear. you place one arm over the other, feeling slightly self-conscious.

"holy shit you look-" steve starts, but you don't let him finish.

"it's your turn now steve, don't get too excited," you say, gesturing to him and he obliges quickly, standing up flustered unbuckling his pants and pulling them down revealing his boxers. he then pulls his dark long sleeve over his head. your eyes trickle across his body, his toned thighs and puffed-out chest and large arms. you're not sure what's come across you but all you can think about is steve's chest and torso pressed against you.

"you jump in first!" you say, giggling.

"what?! oh screw that it was not my idea to strip, you go!" steve exclaims.

"no way, you!" you fight back, only for steve to roll his eyes and make his way towards you, he picks you up suddenly and now you're kicking between fearful laughs.

"steve, you ass! put me down c'mon!" you say, hitting his arms, but he's too strong.

"i'll meet you in there!" he shouts and throws you into the pool. the water is freezing and wakes you up like a cold shower and you brush your hair back with your hand, sputtering, coughing out water. luckily the pool is within standing distance, so it's not too much of a shock from where you are. steve jumps in following you and comes out of the water, shaking his head in a dog-like way, rubbing his nose with his thumb and pointer finger.

he swims over to you slowly, it's then when you realize he threw you into the pool so hard that the force made your necklace unclip. "shit," you say, grabbing it from the bottom.

"what is it?" steve asks.

"my necklace, it unclipped, shit would you mind?" you ask, giving it to steve and turning around and he obliges, clipping it back on. he hands trace slowly over your back and it's eerily quiet between the two of you.

"steve..." you start, although you're unsure what to say after that, all you know is you can feel his hot breath against the back of your neck and the feeling of the pool mixed with his hands against your back is surreal.

"say it," he says, which throws you off guard. it's almost as if he was thinking the same things you were.

"tell me what you want," he says, clipping your necklace on and you turn around to face him, his eyes meeting yours. you softly put your arms around his neck.

"steve- i want you," you say in a whisper, too embarrassed to be admitting something like that. it was like suddenly your thoughts were speaking out loud because an hour ago you would have never admitted anything like that.

"want me to what? you don't have to always use words, especially if you're not in the mood for talking," he says, making you laugh shyly.

"i want you to kiss me," you say, grasping a bit of his hair from the back of his head for entrance and he obliges, leaning in and kissing you hard. he's not gentle at first, he seems hungry for this- like he's thought about this before, about kissing you, tasting you.

"do you even know how beautiful you are?" steve asks looking at you as if he's dumbfounded by your beauty, his voice deep now which causes your stomach to jump and you feel your cheeks go red, you've never been this vocal but there's just something about steve harrington that calms you down.

he grips his hands on your cheeks and presses in against your lips, moving at a slow pace matching your breaths in between his slow kisses which are longing and you hear him moan as you bite his lip softly as he pulls away.

"steve wait-" you say and he pulls away quickly, removing his hands from your cheeks.

"what is it? what am i hurting you? do you wanna stop?" he asks, reading your eyes and expressions to make sure he's done nothing to make you uncomfortable.

"no no it's not that," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck to meet his eyes once again and you can feel him start to relax again into you.

"i just wanna- i wanna go all the way," you say, feeling awkward putting it in words, but you want him to know your intentions.

"oh," steve says. he looks at you and you've started to bite your lip gently. the site of steve is too much to not drive you wild and you can't lie that you haven't thought about him this way before.

"oh," he says, his eyelids closing a bit in lust as he brushes your hair behind your ear.

"you sure?" he asks and you nod quickly. "i've never been so sure about anything until now." that's all he needs to hear and with that, he picks you up in the pool, and you grip your hands around his waist as he cups your ass. steve's tongue enters your mouth and you gladly accept it with yours.

you two are now on the side of the pool. the moonlight is against the pool and there's a shimmering light of the water in the pool, and there's some fog surrounding the pool.

"do you think tommy h and car- you asks, breathless between kisses and steve has begun to kiss down your neck now, planting his soft lips down your neck and you can barely get words out from the pleasure you're now encompassed with from head to toe.

"i doubt it but who gives a fuck, let them watch if they want i don't care. all i know is i need to feel you," steve says sounding so sure and immersed in your sex. you can't help but blush and try and look down but he puts his finger under your chin and props your head back up to meet his eyes.

he traces his hands across your waist and you tug on his hair, propping your hips slightly against him and you can feel the bulge building in his pants. the two of you are at the side of the pool and he looks down at you with hungry eyes.

you feel his hand move from your waist down onto your panties and you feel his hand grasp your pussy and you grip his hair tighter, your tongues dancing as you let out raspy gasps and exhales between kisses.

"is this ok? how i'm touching you over your panties?" he asks, his voice shaky from the lack of oxygen from how forceful and constant your kisses have remained.

"yes- god, yes just-" you say, unsure of how to even gather your thoughts with how much pleasure you feel at just the feeling of his hand over your sex.

"would it be ok if i moved them over to the side?" he asks and you oblige, feeling his fingers circle and lap at your clit suddenly and you can't help but scratch his neck gently and slowly at the feeling.

he looks at you and you can't but feel your heart flutter. his lust-filled eyes are on you for a split second and you inhale right before you feel his two fingers insert into your slit you let out a moan, but you can't help it.

"oh yeah, baby? you like steve's fingers inside you? you like it when steve fucks you with his fingers?" he asks, his eyes remaining intently on you.

"mm- fuck yes," you croak out.

steve's finger inside you starting to pump slowly drives you fucking insane. feeling needy and in desperate need of support, of anything you reach into his boxers with your right hand. your left hand still scratching his neck for support of his now two fingers pumping into you.

you reach for his cock, pulling it out. god, he's so big, you think. i fucking i knew it, you think again.

you start to pump him up and down slowly, watching his expression now for his reaction. he's letting out grateful moans and is flustered but doesn't stop his pace with his fingers inside you.

the two of you focus intently on each other, reading each other's expressions, moaning loudly and screaming out explicit until eventually the two of you cum. you're both shaking, scratching at each other begging for a come down until you have it.

in between shaky breaths, the two of you pull your hands away and lean in for another kiss. after a moment, steve pulls away and pulls your panties down.

"you too sensitive for me now?" he asks. you nod and he looks down at you, at your tits.

"but i still need you," you beg.

"god you're so fucking sexy when you say shit like that," steve says. "you know i'm not done with you yet baby," he says, grabbing at his dick and spreading your legs apart slightly with his hands.

he hasn't put his dick in you, no not yet that would be too soon. but he's slowly tracing the tip across your slit, slowly and gently and you can already tell you wet you are from cumming before. he's teasing you and it's driving you fucking insane.

"i need you steve."

"no. you're gonna need to you better than that," he says sternly.

"just fucking fuck me already, i need your dick inside me steve please!" you shout, your hands around his neck once more.

"awe you're fucking dripping for me, let me put it in in slowly for you babe," he says, slowly inserting himself into you. you let out soft shrieks and grip tightly onto him and he moans slowly.

"you like how i feel in you? uh-huh?" he says, starting to gradually pick up his pace once he's gotten himself in you on a good angle and you nod. words can't come out of you, not right now when the feeling is too incredible.

steve's pace quickens and your hands find your way onto his back and scratch him up and down, definitely leaving marks. he's starting to move quicker and harder and deeper into you and the sounds the two of you are making are unbelievable.

"god look at how good you're taking me, taking my dick all the way in you. good girl," steve says, thrusting harder and quicker.

after a couple of minutes, you hear him go as quick as he can and the two of you are shouting extremities of fuck and jesus christ and you gonna cum? until eventually steve does, releasing himself into you. and you can't help but grab at his ass as he does.

"ah fuck!" steve says, grunting and groaning as he falls onto your shoulder, exhausted as you feel his hot and heavy breath exhaling against you and you run your hands through his hair as he pulls out of you.

steve laughs slyly to himself, breathing out.

"ah shit," he says, looking back at you smirking. you're looking at the stairs to the pool now and he notices.

"let's go."

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington prompt #joe keery #smut #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things 4 #st4

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dadsbongos · 2 years ago

Text

"O, I am Fortune's fool!"

Chapter 2 / Series Masterlist / Previous Chapter

4K words

FRIDAY. 1:35 PM.

The last ten minutes of sixth-period English are always left up to students. Ms. O’Donnell grades at her desk while the class independently reads or works or talks or sleeps and she pretends to not notice when the couples sneak kisses. Not that you can blame her, it isn’t like she gets paid to babysit.

“Munson,” her voice is smooth and it reminds you how you like it when she reads to the class.

Eddie’s head twitches up and he slides out of his chair rather awkwardly - his limbs just a little too big for the desks and body a little too stiff for the crowded aisles. When he’s at Ms. O’Donnell’s desk, you can just barely make out whispers of your name.

Your attention snaps to the pair, peering at them through your lashes and you watch as Eddie’s hair bounces with his manic nodding. Ms. O’Donnell catches you watching them and smiles as she makes a ‘come hither’ motion with her index finger.

You follow Eddie’s lead and slide out of your seat and up to your teacher, fiddling with your fingers as you wait for her to speak. You and Eddie turn to each other as she searches for her words and trade nods of acknowledgment.

Ms. O’Donnell lowers her glasses and sets down the papers in her hand, then spreads them across her desk - you catch the vicious red marks across each one. All marked with big red F’s and mind-numbingly low scores circled right next to the name on every sheet - Eddie Munson. Your hands reach out to pull the papers closer before you even realize what you’re doing - then you quickly pull yourself back.

“I’m sure you know that Mr. Munson isn’t doing very well in this class,” you nod hurriedly when she glances at you expectantly, “this is his third year as a senior at Hawkins, and I do want him to graduate. You are our top-performing student,” you try to smother down the smile that rises at her praise, “I want you to help Mr. Munson study and pass this class. Can you do that?”

You look over at Eddie once again and nod, “Yes, of course, Ms. O’Donnell,” you notice the way Eddie’s eyes have widened slightly but you don’t point it out, “I can be in the library right after school today, if that works?”

“It absolutely does,” Eddie reaches out to shake your hand like this is a business transaction.

You return to your seat and ignore the peculiar stares shot your way.

It couldn’t hurt to tutor Eddie - what did you have to lose? Your social status? It was already shaky at best and the only reason people knew your name was because they needed it if they wanted to properly ask you to do their homework.

Besides, you didn’t understand what people found so ‘freak’-ish about him. From what you saw, Eddie was nice and ran a club for a game that people didn’t understand. Sure, he was quick to bounce around in his seat and pay more attention to song chords in his head than class but he wasn’t evil for that. Aside from selling drugs, he was harmless - and even then, you’d never seen anything particularly hard in his metal lunchbox.

You can remember the first time he sold to Chrissy. In the woods behind school, at an abandoned bench - you two were sat together clutching hands when Eddie took the seat across from you two and opened his lunchbox.

“Didn’t know we were bringing a guest,” Eddie pointed at you, but was looking at Chrissy.

“I- “ she shook her head, eyes nearly bugging from all the nerves, “I’m sorry, it’s just - she’s emotional support.”

“Yeah,” you nodded eagerly to her point, “like when you get a tattoo and you want someone to hold your hand. I’m just the hand-holder.”

“You’ve gotten a tattoo before?” he tilted his head at you skeptically.

“No,” you shook your head and then brightened up when you followed up with, “but I’ve seen it in movies.”

“Okay,” Eddie shut his lunchbox and took a deep breath, “I can feel both of your guys’ nerves in my ass, so just…” he looked Chrissy in the eyes, “say the word - and I’ll go. Nobody has to hear about this,” he knocked his knuckles on the table, “No cheer captain will lose her position and no valedictorian-to-be will have it on her record.”

“No, I- I want to do this,” Chrissy nodded resolutely, but you squeezed her hand tightly anyway, “I just… didn’t wanna be alone.”

“Did you think I’d be all… mean and scary?” he teased, opening his box back up.

Chrissy laughed and you joined as she answered, “Honestly, a little bit.”

Eddie wasn’t mean or scary at all. He even gave Chrissy a discount after trying to make the two of you comfortable.

“You don’t want anything?” Chrissy had already wandered off and was waiting for you a few feet away when Eddie showed you the contents of his box.

“Oh, no,” you’d stood from the table, fiddling with your fingers lest you be tempted to look through the box, “My mom’s insane, if she found out- “ you laughed but he could sense that you were on edge, “God, I don’t even wanna think about it. Besides, I don’t know how I’d be on that stuff, I don’t think I’m ready right now.”

“Alright, I won’t push you,” Eddie immediately shut the box, “Have a nice day, future Harvard grad.”

“Harvard might be a bit far…” you brushed off before returning to Chrissy’s side.

There was another time you’d gotten a peek into that lunchbox. He was doing an under-the-table deal at lunch, of all times, when you’d walked by to sit with Chrissy. You gasped so loud you’re surprised that nobody else noticed. You then slapped a hand over your mouth before muttering several apologies and rushing off. Eddie didn’t seem to mind, and he even laughed as you scampered away.

Eddie was really a sweetheart, you two weren’t even friends but you could gather that much. Maybe being his tutor would be the perfect excuse for you two to actually start talking to each other.

The rapprochement to amity - something to jumpstart the link.

2:50 PM.

Eddie’s drumming his pencil against the smooth wooden table when you come upon him in the library. His head is bobbing to nothing but whatever song is trapped in his head and his hair falls in curtains around him as he shifts. His back is turned to you and you can see patches in sleeves of the vest he wears everyday - all band logos you can just barely recognize from shirts in alternative store windows. Nothing your parents would let you listen to.

Peculiarly, that only makes you want to approach the stores even more.

You pluck up your courage and move to the empty seat - which you notice has already been pulled out - beside Eddie, slipping your bag onto the table as you greet him.

“So,” you pull out the binder you keep for English, “anything you wanna work on specifically?”

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Eddie copies your movements but instead of a binder, he tugs out a pile of loose, crinkled, and somewhat torn papers, “I think part of my F could be this shitload of missing assignments, so maybe getting them done could help my ass.”

“Sounds great,” you lean over to peek through some of the papers, “I think I actually kept those.”

You know for certain that you kept every assignment because in the second grade you threw away a book report after presenting and when your teacher gave you the wrong score, you had no evidence to show her that she was wrong. Ergo, failing your second grade book report right at the end of the year.

“So, just let me see those and we can be done here, yeah? No having to stick around the school freak,” he holds out his hand, the offer sounding like he’s doing you a favor.

“Uh, no,” your protest is quiet and unsteady, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Then you don’t really retain any of the information,” you glance up at Eddie nervously, “you know?”

“Hey, no worries,” he holds his hands up in surrender, grinning, “I get it. I’ll let you take over - you’re the smart one.”

“Well, I’ll let you pick which assignment we start on,” your hands retract to your lap as you watch him turn to his pile.

Eddie takes an assignment out of the papers and eases it in front of you, “I totally hated this book so I paid zero attention.”

You recognize the paper from the - just recently finished - Romeo & Juliet unit - an analysis on the characters that you honestly just half-assed with pretty words but still got an A on. You retrieve it from your binder and skim your analysis so you know which direction to guide Eddie.

“To be completely fair,” you chuckle, “you weren’t missing much other than the homework. Romeo is seventeen and Juliet’s barely started puberty - it’s actually super creepy.”

“Then, I’m glad I missed it. Don’t think I’d be able to stomach that, it’d give me flashbacks to the seniors I see trying to pick up freshmen.”

“That’s actually exactly what was happening to me when we were reading it. Although, that’s a little hypocritical of me,” when he quirks a brow at you, you shrug, “Ms. O’Donnell partnered with the theater program to do a production of Romeo & Juliet and I auditioned. Now, I get to be groomed on stage by Mikey Port.”

“Gross,” he fake gags, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“Just wanted to feel alive…” when you notice how weird you sound, you tack on, “or something. Anyway!” for as much as you hate the popular kids, you can’t help but wish you had their people skills, “Now onto studying!”

Eddie wishes he could pay closer attention, he really does. Both in general, and now. You’re just leaning so close and he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and can see the way your bottom lip drags between your teeth when you focus. He knew you were pretty, but now - in this quiet, dark library with his abandoned homework and you mere inches away - it feels totally different.

“So, what do you think?” you look up at him with wide, wondering eyes and he feels his heart pause.

“Uhh,” Eddie takes a glance at the paper and pretends to think while he reads the question.

What is the importance of Juliet’s age to her character?

“Well, she’s…”

“Thirteen.”

“Right, thirteen. And that’s - just about to be a teenager, so obviously she’s on the edge of starting to find out who she is,” he turns back to you, “right?”

“Yeah,” you look so excited for him and he finds it hard to want to stop studying if it’ll mean you keep looking at him the way you do, “great job! What else?”

“Since she’s young, she wants to be seen as more grown than she is so that her parents can respect what she has to say. But she’s also too old to have her disobedience blamed on immaturity.”

“Exactly, yeah!” you nod and tap his paper, “Now just copy that down on here and you’ve already got a question done!”

Eddie hasn’t felt smart in a long, long while and now he’s certain that he could beat even Nancy Wheeler in a battle of wits.

…

A good forty-five minutes has elapsed since you sat beside him and he wishes he didn’t have to stop you, “Sorry to disappoint, but I have business.”

“Oh, yeah, not a problem,” you glance at a clock hanging to your left and begin packing away your things, “I don’t have a specific schedule,” a lie but something within you says you shouldn’t tell him how desperately your parents need order, “so… any day you want to work is fine.”

“Uh, yeah. I can do Monday for sure,” Eddie takes little care in brushing his things back into his bag, but he looks down at you as you carefully stow your binder in your backpack, “So, the ‘business’ is an, uh, unofficial Hellfire thing. This kid, Mike Wheeler, likes to DM but he can’t in Hellfire, so sometimes he and his friends stop by and we go through his campaigns.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” you zip up your bag and swing it around to loop around both of your shoulders.

Eddie nods, brushing back his hair from his eyes, “I only mention it, just in case you have nothing really going on,” your brows raise and so he quickly continues, “If you want to join, you can. I’ll give you a ride, you know, free of charge.”

Chrissy had canceled your girls’ night for a date that Jason wouldn’t let her skip out on and there wasn’t play rehearsal in the afternoons (instead taking up the place of your study hall hour).

“I don’t know how to play, I’d probably just be watching…” you admit, “Why would you wanna invite me anyway?”

“Well, you ever hang out with the school freak for the Satanic game of Dungeons and Dragons?” you shake your head, “It’d be a way to feel alive or something,” you cringe at your own words being thrown at you but nod to his logic.

“Still have no idea how to play…”

“Not a problem,” he waves off, “Just you being there would be enough. Even if you didn’t talk, not that I don’t want you to talk. I think you should talk the whole time, in fact.”

“Then I won’t stop talking,” you nod before gesturing to the exit of the library with your head, “Lead the way, Munson.”

He was right - you’d never even seen the board for D&D let alone watched a game. Your parents would lose their minds if they just knew that the person you had to help get their grade up was the social pariah Eddie Munson. And as much as it should make you ashamed, something about subtly disobeying your parents seems thrilling. A quiet rebellion in your own right.

“Please,” he places a hand on his chest, snapping you from your thoughts, as he goes to walk, “Munson is my family name, call me Eddie.”

As you and Eddie make your way to his van, you suddenly ask, “Will the boys be okay with me joining?”

He shrugs, “They’ll live.”

You climb in, shifting your bag so it’s settled onto your lap and quirking a brow at him, “Really?”

Eddie slams the door only to shout through the rolled up window, “Yeah!”

He comes around the van and climbs into the driver’s side. His eyes fall to the floor and he feels nauseated at the sight of fast food wrappers and empty, crushed cans on the floor. He finally gets a girl in his car and the place is trashed: of course.

You follow his gaze and shake your head with a grin, “Oh, don’t worry about it at all! I don’t even have a car, so… it isn’t like I can say anything.”

The van pulls out of the parking lot and you almost rock with the speed with which it does.

Eddie looks at you briefly as he asks, “Really? How do you get to school?”

“Uh,” you scratch the back of your neck, “Dustin Henderson. Well, his mom takes me. We live, like, right next to each other.”

There’s a break in the conversation, you watch the trees pass through the window as Eddie speeds back to his trailer.

Suddenly, he turns on the radio and a guitar riff breaks through the speakers at ear-rupturing level. Eddie rushes to turn it down when you flinch, “You ever listen to metal?”

“Uh, no,” you squeeze one of the straps of your bag in your hands, “my parents say it’s the reason kids have started doing drugs,” out of the corner of your eyes you can see Eddie’s brows furrow, “I mean, I’ve tried explaining it, you know? Kids have always done drugs. Even back when the pilgrims were just settling in Massachusetts, they had the early form of laudanum - not to mention the abundance of hallucinogenic vegetation in the area,” it suddenly feels hot in the van and you clear your throat just to fill the stuffy silence, “Laudanum has opium in it. It’s a drug.”

“Well, I appreciate your service in defending us metalheads’ collective honor,” he taps the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song flooding the van.

“Sorry, I ramble sometimes,” you murmur.

“‘m not complaining,” he shrugs.

A low, rough voice kicks through the song and despite the fact it’s so foreign to you, you can find your head bopping along with Eddie’s, “What band is this?”

“This is Metallica,” Eddie slows as Forest Hills Trailer Park comes closer into view, his head briefly flickers to you, “Do you like it?”

“It’s not like anything my parents play,” you nod slowly, “It’s… nice.”

Something thrums beneath your veins at the fact that your parents have no idea you’re in the local pothead drug dealer’s van listening to Metallica. Something attracts you to the idea of turning up the speakers until your ribcage is rattling with the drums.

But you don’t get the chance before Eddie stops in front of his trailer.

Eddie only stays in the van long enough to say, “You can leave your bag in here, if you want.”

To say Dustin is surprised to see you arrive with Eddie Munson is an understatement. You hadn’t seen his eyes this wide since you got him the walkies he adores and had been begging for, for months on his birthday. Mike’s jaw drops open as you wave to the two. You try not to pay too much attention to the fact there’s a gaping space where Lucas should be.

You didn’t know the others as well as you knew Dustin, but you knew enough to sense the tragedy of their shifting quartet.

“What’s she doing here?” Mike gestures to you as Eddie shuts his trailer door.

“To experience the scintillating presence of today’s youth,” you sarcastically cheer, none of the boys so much as mercy laugh and you huff before turning to Eddie, “Can I use your phone?”

He points you in the direction of his room, “It’s right on the first dresser, you can close the door if you need privacy. The place is a shithole right now, so don’t judge too much, okay?”

You wander into Eddie’s room and are smacked dead in the face with the musk of weed and cigarettes. You take into account how little it’s your business what clothes are piling on the floor and ignore them, simply closing the door and taking up the phone to call your parents.

You were supposed to be home five minutes ago.

Your father reminds you of that when you pick up. At the sound of his voice, your shoulders tense and it’s pure instinct when you hug your arms around yourself. The sound of his voice has always made anxiety swell in your gut and you can’t pinpoint why exactly, you just know that it happens.

Automatic trauma response, you read somewhere.

“Where are you?”

“Still the library,” you murmur, twirling the cord nervously around your finger, “Tutoring is gonna take longer than I thought.”

“I told you to not involve yourself with those people,” he huffs, “Just because you’re passing and the other kids are idiots doesn’t mean they have a right- “

“I know, Dad,” you bite the bullet, “I just wanted to help.”

There’s a pause, and you can practically see him shaking his head, “Ted’s daughter is already home.”

Fucking Nancy Wheeler - of course, everything is always about her.

You have nothing specific against her, you swear. It’s just…

There’s a reason you two stopped being friends.

“I’ll be home by curfew, Dad.”

“You better be,” there’s a slam and then the line drops dead.

You and Nancy were the nerds, yes, but you were the nerds together. You, Nancy, and Barb - three girls who wouldn’t turn heads until the jocks needed fulfilling of a bet from some cliche movie.

You could deal with the comparisons from your families because you and Nancy were still in it together. You could put up with the judgemental looks from your parents when Nancy did something better than you did because at least she was there.

And then she started dating Steve Harrington and Steve Harrington didn’t like you because while you were in ninth grade and he was in tenth, you refused to write his essays and give him exam answers. So, Nancy decided that she had to cut down on your time together.

The trio went down to two and you were thrown over the edge of the lifeboat.

You were still the nerd and Nancy went on to become the most desirable girl in Hawkins.

She didn’t even bother telling you when Barb went missing. Instead, you were left to find out when it was finally covered by the 5 o’clock news.

Ironically, however, you now work with Steve Harrington and find that he’s chilled out quite a bit since high school. You two are actually friends.

You drop the phone to its receiver and exit Eddie’s room, settling onto the living room floor beside your geeky neighbor, Dustin.

Mike tosses his hands up in exasperation, lips pressing into a thin line.

He and Nancy don’t actually look much alike, but it serves you no better than if he did.

Oh well, nothing will change. Your parents are your parents and that’s why you’re already hoping you can get another invite to spend time with Eddie.

Speaking of the devil, the man himself sits on the couch to your right and pulls out a box underneath the table, inside is what you can recognize as character sheets. When Dustin was just initially getting into Dungeons and Dragons, he would ask you for input on his character.

It’s one of those things you try not to forget - when the kid you live next to and sometimes babysit used to actually admire you and think you were cool. Dustin still respected you, but it was different now that he was in high school and friends with Steve fucking Harrington.

“Oh, sweet lady,” Eddie calls in a sing-song and you turn to him immediately, “I need some input over here,” you nod and hop onto the couch beside Eddie only to see that every section of the sheet is filled out. Your brows furrow and Eddie leans over to whisper in your ear, “I just wanted the most interesting person in the room to sit next to me. Pretend I’m saying something really clever and smart.”

You can’t help the laugh that flows from you as you nod, and just to really sell the act you’re quick to say, “I really like that.”

Eddie gasps dramatically, “You do?”

“Mhm,” you make an effort to sound more resolute, “Definitely.”

“Great, great,” Eddie pretends to scribble something down on his character sheet, “You know, I just knew you were the person to ask about that.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Well, you’re way smarter than any of these kids. And you’re smarter than me. So…”

You can’t help the way your lips stretch into a grin at his words.

Nobody has ever called you smart other than teachers in report cards and when they needed someone to sit next to the problem students. So you bathe in the praise Eddie hands out so easily and you don’t notice the wary glance Dustin shoots Mike.

Echt - of German origin - meaning authentic and typical. And while Eddie may not appear typical, there’s certainly nothing better than the way he feels so human and gentle beneath the outlandish veneer.

~~ taglist @chainsaw-man-inserts @homiesexual-or-homosexual 4 u <3

#within six days #wsd fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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