#I mean she uh did a little more than just imply
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majesty0h · 21 hours ago
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#TONGUETIED
gojo x fushiguro x f!reader
Part two of Sharing is Caring
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*sum. Your boyfriend Toji is finally making your dreams of a 3way come true with a blast from his past. God, why are his eyes so blue??
*wc. 4.4k
*warnings. Fem! Reader, boyfriend Toji, bull! Gojo, blowjob, fingering, mild hatefuck, degradation, doublé penetration, praise, choking, unprotected, past lover, creampie, implied gay sex, biting, threeway.
[ Toji is green text and Gojo is blue ]
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“Fuck, Old Man. She’s got a mouth like a porn star.”
“Yeah. Consider this a thank you for taking care of Megumi all these years.”
“Hah. I mean, I killed you. Shouldn’t I be thanking you?”
Toji and Gojo seem far more relaxed than you expected. Having a casual conversation and witty banter like they’re enjoying a coffee date. Wait, did Gojo say he killed Toji? What the hell?
“Mmph,” you’re snapped back to reality when the sorcerer’s cock pushes a little deeper, triggering your gag reflex. The saltiness of precum coats your tongue, tears prick at your eyes. Your hands grip into his slender hips, forearms braced on the sofa, and you will yourself to not choke. He’s a bit thinner than Toji, but has the length to make up for it.
Satoru’s still on the couch, lanky legs spread comically wide, head tipped back to the ceiling. One hand fists your hair, pulling your closer until your nose is pressed firmly into his well-trimmed pubes. The carpet matches the drapes, funnily enough.
Toji had long since ripped off your underwear as you knelt before Gojo, hiking up your dress just enough to reveal how much you were enjoying this. “Damn, ma. You ain’t been this wet for me in ages. I’m almost jealous,” he pouts as he reaches between your warm folds, ghosting two fingers across. You whimper and instinctively roll your hips back to increase the contact, but Gojo lets out an ‘aht, aht’ and his palm pushes deeper on your neck, ensuring you stay put.
“You really are a lady-killer, y’know that Gojo? Look at this,” Toji grins as he holds up his hand and wiggles the slippery digits. It’s so embarrassing and hot at the same time…how they talk about you like you’re not there, like you’re an object. You can hear the sounds of greedy slurping noises as Toji licks his fingers clean, which elicits a pout from Satoru.
“Wowwwww, you can’t even share? What kind of shitty friend are you? Lemme get some.”
There’s silence for a moment. You feel Toji stiffen behind you. Did Gojo overstep by asking to taste you? Was your fantasy dead in the water before it properly began? You’re still sucking cock like the good slut you are, eyes watery and looking up at Satoru, too nervous to peer back at your boyfriend in fear. This was bad. So fucking bad.
You grunt as the weight on your back increases exponentially; Toji is leaning over you, hands braced on either side of yours. “Then come get it, brat,” is all he utters before roughly smashing his lips against Satoru’s.
Your eyes grow comically large as you watch in disbelief, shock, and unbridled arousal as /your/ boyfriend kisses another man. It’s not that you assumed he was straight, well, you did. That conversation had never truly come up; it didn’t need to. So this…this was intense.
Satoru doesn’t even hesitate to meet Toji’s advances and he opens his mouth against Toji’s scarred lips. Their tongues dance, hungry. You stop sucking for a moment, too entranced by this entire display. Satoru’s cock drips pre-cum even harder as him and Toji explore each other’s oral cavities, and fuck, your boyfriend’s manhood is twitching against your thighs. You had to be dreaming.
“Ah,” Gojo whispers when they finally pull apart, a line of saliva connecting them, before dripping into your hair. “She does taste good.”
“You too,” Toji murmurs, growing more erect by the second. “I forgot. It’s been so long.”
You can’t take it anymore. With a loud pop you free your mouth and clear your throat, trying to gain their attention, to break up this…reunion? “Uh….what are you guys…talking about?”
“Don’t worry about it,” they reply in unison.
You want to press the issue. You need to know. When? Why? How long–
“You ready to take this to the bedroom, Princess?” Toji interrupts your inner monologue as he stands up, clearly done with the foreplay. You know that sound in his voice. He’s going to brutalize you, more so than usual. And the way Gojo chuckles in response, dark and heady, you know he will do the same. You shudder from an equal mix of lust and fear.
“...yeah. S-sure,” you reply softly as you slowly right yourself, knees sore from being pressed into the carpet for so long. You feel like a little lamb, thrown into a cage with two voracious lions. Ready to be devoured. After they’re done toying with you, that is.
Your footsteps echo softly down the hall, followed by heavier, eager thuds. You swallow hard as you push the bedroom door open, only to gasp and cover your mouth in surprise. Your normally messy living quarters (thanks Toji) were spotless. Fragrant candles lined almost every surface, and rose petals were scattered across the floor and silk sheets. In the two years you’ve been with Toji, he barely remembered your birthday, much less perform a romantic gesture like this.
“You see! I told you she’d like it,” Gojo cheesed before cupping your ass firmly, pushing you closer to the bed.
Toji rolled his eyes. “Yeah whatever. Take all the credit. Sorry I don’t need props to make a memorable lay.”
They continue to bicker mildly as you sit at the foot of the bed, watching them undress. You’d seen Toji’s naked form a million times, but this time felt different. His muscles seemed to ripple a little bit more, his cock stands prouder, thicker, his emerald eyes glazed over with a mysterious emotion you couldn’t name. You finally tear your gaze off his form and scan over Gojo’s bare form. His baggy black clothes were misleading. The stringbean was in fact jacked, with a chiseled six-pack, perfect V line. What really took your breath away was when he set his glasses onto the nightstand and winked at you; fuck they were so blue. It was almost ethereal, otherworldly. Enchanting. Your boyfriend notices you’re captivated and scoffs, easily pushing you back into the comforter. You scoot up closer to the headboard to make room for the two large men who are clambering in to join you. The bed creaks from the strain.
Toji and Satoru work in tandem to peel your dress off your nervous frame; the 6 Eyes whistles as he rubs your pink buds, causing you to moan slightly. “You’re beautiful,” he hums before capturing a nipple in his mouth and sucks, pinching the other between graceful fingers.
Toji nods in approval as your fingers tangle into snow white hair, at the little noises of pleasure. He shifts your legs apart, thumb pressing against your glistening nub, working it in time with your breathy gasps. “You just lay there and let us do the work. Just relax baby. Just relax,” Toji coaxes as he buries two fingers deep. Twisting them to find your sweet spot. It’s not long before you start panting his name. He leans up to bite and suck on your collarbone, his hair tickling your neck, his fingers becoming more aggressive, more persistent.
“Mm—fuck Daddy….it feels so good don’t stop please please—“ you beg hiccuping, your mind swimming, barely able to focus on his motions, because at the same time, Satoru has penetrated your cunt with his own two digits. Four fingers total. You feel so full. You’re sandwiched between the duo who assault your senses in perfect synchronicity, taking turns to shove their tongues down your throat and tell you what a dirty little whore you are. It’s delicious.
Two hard cocks nuzzle against your body, insistent, heads leaving slimy trails on your warm skin. You feel drunk. Wanting to prove how eager their slut is, your shaky hands reach for their manhoods and stroke. The sound of them cursing through gritted teeth was music to your ears, and they rut into your hands. Toji’s grunts are low and gruff, like sandpaper. But Satoru’s are softer, more delicate. Your mind wanders to how their earlier dynamic was. It seems clear that Toji was the one on top, and your already swelling clit twinges in delight, imaging Toji’s balls slapping against Satoru’s ass, those strong arms keeping him pinned, making sure he took every thrust, not stopping until his tight hole was dripping with seed.
“Ahn, fuck…oh my god…fuck…I’m gonna cum, I really want to cum please make me cum!” Your daydreaming is too much, and you stop stroking your lovers, wanting to solely focus on your impending orgasm.
“Cum for us then, Sweetheart.”
“God I can’t wait to feel how tight this pussy is on my cock.”
That’s all the encouragement you need, and soon your shrill cry fills the air as Satoru slips his fingers out and frantically play with your throbbing bud. You grip the sheets for dear life as you climax with Toji still punishing your G-Spot in a way that makes you taste static, that has your vision dotted with bright streaks of light. Even as you’re crying out and writhing they don’t stop; if anything it just spurs them on. You feel delirious. Your walls grip onto Toji’s fingers like a vice as a foreign sensation fills you. It’s intense, it’s hot, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.
You fucking squirt.
It’s like a flood gushing out of your abused hole, slicking the sheets, your thighs, and your lovers. You’ve never even done that before! You want to die. This is so embarrassing.
The men don’t share your sentiments whatsoever. Satoru has a shit eating grin plastered over his face, and Toji is smirking like he hit the biggest jackpot of his life. You feel so empty when they withdraw their fingers and comment to each other about how this was the hottest thing they’ve ever experienced.
“Wow it’s just like in the porn. I’m literally Johnny Sins.”
“Pft. You fuckin’ wish.”
“Hey don’t be mad I’m just good at everything that I do. It kinda comes with the title. Did you really not think it applies here?”
“Not sayin’ that. I just remember how you laid there and yelled like Riley Reid when I bent you over that pool table in Kyushu.”
“Nuh-uh. You were begging me all night because you couldn’t get over that trick I did with my—“
“Guys,” you interrupt their fond recollections, feeling a bit left out and far too untouched. “I want it, please. Please give to me. Both of you I want…I wanna feel your both inside me at once. Please,” your voice wavers as you sit up slowly, grimacing at the large wet spot underneath you. The boys look down at you, and their cocks which had softened slightly during their heated debate spring back to attention.
“I thought you’d never ask, Princess.”
“Let’s get ready to rumble! Wait. Who gets which hole?”
Satoru’s question has you all pause. Nobody had considered that up until now. You look to your boyfriend for guidance and he responds that “it’s your rodeo, doll. We’re just ridin’ in it.”
That makes you feel a little bit better. Because deep down, you’d already made up your mind. You weren’t the biggest fan of anal, especially with anyone besides Toji. An actual sex god, he knew how to make it feel good, make the pleasure override the pain, never getting carried away past what you can handle. Satoru was nice, but you didn’t want him to lose control and have you limping at your 7am meeting tomorrow. But you had a feeling that would happen regardless.
“I want uh….Gojo in my pussy. And you in my ass, Daddy,” you proclaim, and you can practically feel the sorcerer’s ego puff up.
Thankfully, Toji doesn’t seem upset, too horny to focus on the schematics. As long as he was buried in any tight hole, he would chalk it up as a win. “Dope. You guys can start. I gotta go find the special lube. I think it’s in the bathroom?” He said as he slid off the bed and disappeared.
It only dawns on you that you’re alone with Satoru when he lays flat, one hand gripping his shaft, the other wiping his brow. Those magical blue eyes beam up at you, he looks like an angel with a 9 inch cock. “Hey. You okay with riding? I wanna see your tits bouncing. Are they natural? They’re perfect.”
Self conscious, you look down at your chest, not sure what was so special about it. “Uh, yeah. Natural. The left is bigger than the other honestly. And I’ve always been insecure about it. Like that not that much bigger,” you ramble, flustered. “But just enough that—“
“Hey,” he interrupts gently, squeezing your thigh. “Can you ride it for me, babes?”
The second time he says it, you nod obediently. Toji’s still throwing shit around in the closet. You’re on your own.
You straddle him, watching that pretty cock lay flush against his stomach, uncut and leaking. “Okay,” you whisper, rising up on your haunches, murmuring when the tips ghosts against your moist folds.
“There we go. Take your time,” he coaxed, hands rubbing small circles on your hips. “I’m way more fun to ride than the Old Man. He’s so lazy.”
You can’t help but blush, but figure this is the best time to get answers. “You…rode him?”
He nods, and a soft groan tumbles from those pink lips when you sink yourself down past the head teasingly. “Mmhm. Bunch of times. Awhile ago. Long time ago. Its complicated. But we had our fun.”
You want to press “how” it was complicated, and decide to further the interrogation by shifting deeper an inch, two at most. You both hiss at the pressure, the slick resistance. God he looks so cute underneath you. “Were…were your two dating?” you ask, before lust gets the better of you and you drop fully, bottoming out on Satoru and shivering at how your swollen clit rubs against his pelvis. “I didn’t even…fuck, I didn’t even know he liked guys.”
Satoru doesn’t take long to take control. Fingertips will leave bruises on your ass come tomorrow. You’re in his domain now. “Nah. Not dating. Just fun. He’s not the type to settle down. That’s why I was shocked to hear he has a wifey. But with pussy this good,” he snaps his hips upward, and you yelp his name, hands on his chest for support. “I can see why he’s playing househusband.”
“Hey!” Toji calls, sounding irritated. “Don’t make her cum without me, asshole!”
“I won’t,” Gojo replies , but he’s not making a great attempt at holding back. He sets a slow, but powerful rhythm, not once taking his eyes off you. “Fuck. Take this dick, baby. You’re so beautiful. Like it’s insane. Like a model,” he professes, obviously pussy-drunk. But the way he says it, it makes you feel so warm, so special.
“T-thank you, Satoru…ahn…~” you reply as you lean forward and rest your forearms next to his shoulders, rolling against his thrusts, your breath hot and whining against his neck. Your chests are sticky as they rub together, and he wraps his arm around your waist. You feel small, full. “Yes, yes please. Pleas fuck me, please fuck me, Sir. Please!” You cry as he bites your neck, claiming you as his cockslut.
This seems to fill him with increased vigor, and soon the room is filled with the sound of wet skin slapping on wet skin, the creaking headboard, and your strangled mewls. You’re so wrapped up in the moment you barely notice when Toji manifests behind you. It’s only when he spanks you, hard, that both you and Satoru pause, hearts thrumming rapidly.
“It was stuck under the radiator,” Fushiguro says of the lube as he slathers it on his cock,and carelessly slips a slimy finger into your puckered heat. Probing it, relaxing it, working it over. You wince and pout in response, but the way Toji growls back in response makes you fall silent.
Satoru seems to enjoy the tension as Toji withdraws his finger just as quickly as he entered it, opting to smear his tip between your cheeks, flickering against the hole. He usually takes far more time to prep you, but this is a special night and he didn’t have time to fuck around. “Don’t break her, dude. We’re just getting started,” he says to your defense, but there’s evil glinting in those ocean eyes. “What, you worried I’ll fuck her better?”
Shit.
“Toji, he’s just kidding. I don—fuck! Oh fuck Daddy what the hell!” You exclaim when your boyfriend shoves himself deep, and even with the numbing lube it’s too much to accommodate at once. You can feel their cocks rubbing against each other through that thin wall of skin. And it’s obvious they feel it too, how they say your name like a curse in unison. God it’s so much. Even when Toji would fuck your pussy when you had a fox butt plug in…it wasn’t even comparable. “Be, be careful! It’s so much—ohmygodohmygod. I don’t know if I can do this,“ you’re practically sobbing. Not from pain, but just the overwhelming sensation of it all. The stretching you feel…will you rip? Is that possible? You’re starting to panic and regret this whole thing, blubbering.
The boys do their best to soothe you. They don’t move. They just tell you how pretty you look when you’re stuffed, that you’re doing so good. Toji says you have to make him proud, and Gojo says you do make him proud.
After a few moments of reassurance, you calm down enough and steady your breathing. It does feel amazing once you get past the initial burn, replaced by twitching, glorious pleasure. “That’s my girl. That’s my good girl,” Toji praises, layering kisses against your cheek and neck.”You ready now? We can take it easy.”
The boys await further instructions, and in this moment, you feel like a goddess. These two muscular, dangerous men are going to worship you and defile you. Has there ever been a girl so lucky?
“I want…” you start, cautiously gyrating against Gojo before you press back against your boyfriend. “I want you to fuck me…like you used to fuck each other.”
And like that, with that simple utterance, you would be completely violated.
Toji is the first to fuck you into submission, wrapping your hair around his fist and yanking it roughly, exposing the quivering column of your throat. The things he says to you are downright filthy as his cock pulls almost fully out of your gaping ass, just to slam back in without remorse. The things you respond with are equally revolting.
Satoru catches on quick, pounding you with the same tempo and delirious intensity as Toji. You’re absolutely wanton now with your vocals, a cross between breathless gasps and guttural howls. Your holes tingle, and your body reacts surprisingly well to the onslaught. The rougher they are, the more soaked you become, the more your body relaxes to accommodate. The harder they go, the more you want.
“Fuck! Yes! Fuck me, daddies. Please don’t stop. This is so fucking good I wanna cum again. I wanna squirt again. Fuuuuck,” you manage to squeak out, feeling squished between the two large men, who are using you as a condom between their own unresolved sexual desires.
“Fuckin’, nngh—! Fucking do it then!” Gojo commands as he licks away your tears, before wrapping his hands around your neck and squeezing, hard.
Even Toji doesn’t choke you that hard.
It’s terrifying and exciting.
Your head spins, and you see fireworks. Partly from cumming unfathomably hard, but also from the last of oxygen to your brain. You would scream hysterically as you gush over his balls and get those snow white pubes drenched, if you could breathe.
This doesn’t go unnoticed by Toji.
“Yo, take it easy, brat. If you hurt her I swear to god..” he barks, and Gojo loosens his vice just enough for you to blink and take a hungry gasp of air, still feeling like you’re you’re floating on a cloud, spinning on the world’s fastest carousel.
“Sorry, I ju—“
“Shut the fuck up, Satoru,” your boyfriend interrupts, and you watch as a hand shoots out in slow motion and chokes Gojo. For a moment you swear you can hear a tendon pop.
“Daddy, fuck—“
It’s not you saying it.
They still continue to use you as the perfect fleshlight, but in a weird way it’s like you’re an observer more than participator. It’s like porn, real life porn. Even better than that dumb VR.
“God that’s hot,” you exclaim, as you watch Satoru’s eyes roll to the back of his head, his body still snapping into yours like it’s in autopilot.
“Toji, stop…stop it—-“ he croaks out, but your boyfriend snickers, doubling the pressure he’s exerting on both of you. “You gotta stop.”
“Why?” You can practically feel Toji sneering behind you. “I thought you loved it like this, brat. Don’t switch up now.”
Gojo reaches up past you, palms pressed into Toji’s chest. He’s almost…whining. “I do. But if you don’t stop I can’t …I’m gonna—-“
His words falter as he almost loses consciousness, and for a moment you’re worried. If Toji wound up killing him, that would be really fucking hard to explain to the police. Fuck, what if your job found out?
“You’re gonna what, brat?”
“Toji,” you start, nuzzling Gojo’s cheek, your pleasure overridden by concern. You glance back at your feral boyfriend and shudder at the crazed, sex-intoxicating expression he’s wearing. “You’re going to—“ you freeze, as what Satoru was trying to tell you dawns on you, and you feel it. You FEEL it. Warm, thick ropes of cum fill your throbbing cunt, flooding up to your bruised cervix, gushing out with each of his slowing, weak thrusts. Oh God. He just came in your pussy? Yeah, you’re not in birth control and Toji creampies you frequently , but only on “safe” days. Is today a safe day? You’re too out of it to remember.
“Huh? What the…” Toji feels the milky white substance smear against his bouncing shaft. “Hey. Hey, wake up,” he demands as he stops choking Satoru and slaps his face gently. “Did you cum? Did you just cum in my fucking girl?”
You freeze and bite your lip, the vibe suddenly changed. Satoru finally snaps back to reality, grunting as his softening cock deposits the last few drops of seed into you, glancing at you before peering up at Toji sheepishly. “Uh. I’m sorry. I tried to tell you. My bad,” he swallows hard, and holds onto you like a naughty child seeks safety from their mother when they’ve upset the father.
You wince as Toji bears down past you, his lips meeting your jaw before pressing against Satoru’s softly, tenderly. “I forgot how pretty you are when you shoot your load.” He snakes his hand down between your bodies and rubs your slick and pulsating clit, circling it in time with his rapidly quickening thrusts. “Now princess, I need you to beg me to fill you up. You both had your fun. Now it’s Daddy’s turn.”
You don’t deny him. By the time Toji’s glistening hips snap one final time and he empties his balls inside your pounded-numb asshole, your voice is hoarse, having cum one final time from his fingers.
The room feels unbearably warm, the air thick with the mingling scents of skin and exhaustion. Your body is a trembling, overstated heap, sprawled between them in a tangle of limbs. Toji’s hand rests possessively on your hip, his palm rough but steady, while Gojo’s arm drapes lazily across your stomach, his fingertips brushing your ribs in a way that makes you shiver despite the heat.
No one speaks. The silence is filled only with heavy breathing and the occasional shaky curse. Your muscles ache, your skin buzzes, and your mind flits on the edge of unconsciousness. You feel the weight of their bodies pressed against yours, grounding you even as sleep pulls you under.
“She’s a mess,” Toji mutters somewhere above the fog of your thoughts, his voice a low sigh that vibrates through the bed.
“You’re not exactly clean yourself,” Gojo replies, his tone smug but tired.
There’s a pause, then Toji chuckles darkly. “After we clean her up…Shower?”
“With you?” Gojo sounds amused, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “Fine, but don’t get any ideas.”
You want to respond, maybe make a snide comment or laugh, but your body refuses to cooperate. Their voices fade as you slip fully into the darkness of sleep.
When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the sunlight streaming through the curtains. The second is that you’re alone. Panic hits you in a sudden rush, your brain scrambling to calculate how much time has passed. Work. You’re going to be late. You groan, dragging yourself upright, but your anxiety stutters when you spot the outfit laid neatly on the chair by the bed.
Next to it sits a cup of your favorite coffee, still warm, and a doughnut in its wrapper, and a Plan B. A folded note catches your eye. You pick it up, your lips curving into a sleepy smile as you read the words written in two distinct handwritings:
“Good luck with the merger! :D “
Shaking your head, you get dressed quickly, the earlier panic replaced by a soft warmth in your chest. When you step into the living room, you pause at the sight of them; they’re are sprawled together on the couch, limbs tangled, Toji holding Gojo the way he usually holds you.
You snort quietly, grabbing a blanket and draping it over them. Leaning down, you press a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads, Toji murmuring something incoherent in his sleep while Gojo shifts but doesn’t wake.
As you slip out the door, you realize you don’t know if Gojo will still be there when you get home, or if your life with Toji has changed forever. But something feels different. Different, and strangely right.
48 notes · View notes
homestuckconfession · 7 months ago
Note
TW mentions of s_xual harassment
Yall ever think about how Crockerteir Jane sexually harassed Jake in the prison cell, telling him that he’s stupid and that she’s happy at least her kids will be hot, implying that she will force him to have kids with her?
And then you see fics that completely ignore that and instead make Jake apologize for something HE ALREADY APOLOGIZED FOR IN-COMIC?
Like, y’all, I love Janey, don’t get me wrong, and yes I know she was mind-controlled, but also she still remembered what she did in that state. She remembers and does nothing. Does nothing despite the fact that her friend was a sobbing mess beneath her and is now very traumatized because he was told and threatened awful things.
Jake English shouldn’t need to apologize again because he already did in-comic. He already apologized. If Jane doesn’t want to accept it, then she’s allowed! THAT DOESNT MEAN HE NEEDS TO APOLOGIZE OVER AND OVER AGAIN BECAUSE CLEARLY HE’S COMPLETELY IN THE WRONG FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO READ HER MIND.
After what happened, I think Jake actually deserves an apology from Jane if anything. Because between accidental boundary breaking and actual threats of assault, I think one is MUCH worse then the other.
(Again, I don’t hate Janey in the slightest, girls are allowed to be flawed, but that’s the thing, y’all keep ignoring her flaws and treating her like a sweet lil angel when, I’m sorry, but that’s not Jane. If you actually like Jane, you’ll acknowledge her flaws and like her regardless, not throw away her actions and pretend that none of that happened. Girls are allowed to be flawed, but that doesn’t mean that they’re exempt from facing consequences. Girls are allowed to be flawed, SO ACTUALLY TREAT THEM LIKE FLAWED CHARACTERS.)
Sincerely, a girl who is done with all of y’alls bullshit.
.
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago
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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner
note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!
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He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"
He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”
But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.
You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.
"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"
"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."
"We, um... I think we broke up?"
"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.
You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."
"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."
"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."
"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."
"No, but—"
"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."
You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  
“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”
You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.
“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”
“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”
“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.
His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  
Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.
You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”
You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.
“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.
“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”
He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”
That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.
He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.
He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.
“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.
He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  
“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”
His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.
When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  
"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...
"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."
He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."
"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"
"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.
"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"
He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.
The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?
Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.
He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.
You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.
“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”
As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  
But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.
"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."
Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?
"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."
You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.
"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"
You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...
"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."
He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"
The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.
You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”
That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.
“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”
This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…
Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.
He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.
“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”
You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  
You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”
Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.
You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."
You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.
"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."
You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.
Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”
Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.
His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.
“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”
Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight�� then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.
“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”
You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.
He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”
“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”
“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”
Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.
When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.
“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”
You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.
“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.
“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”
He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  
You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.
“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”
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hotchner-edu · 5 months ago
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Runner's Stamina (drabble) | Aaron Hotchner
Synopsis: You can't help but fawn over your boyfriend, and he happens to overhear a phone call you have with Penelope
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader
Warnings: allusions to smut (no actual smut though), implied age gap, r is down bad (so is aaron), this is just me thirsting over aaron—
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You were staring rather intensely at Aaron as he peacefully read beside you. Biting your bottom lip a little, your eyes zone in on his hand as it slowly moves to turn the page, veins popping in the subtlest way with each movement.
"Yes, honey?" He suddenly drawls out, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he keeps his eyes on the text.
Blinking slowly, you pout a bit and shake your head. "Nothing... is the book interesting?"
"It's just as I remembered it to be, started a bit slow, but it's getting interesting now." He answers and finally turns to look at you, eyes gentle.
Aaron gently takes your hand and drops a sweet kiss to your palm, keeping his eyes locked on yours the entire time. Your hand twitches a little as you feel how his hand practically engulfs yours, the warmth of his affection crawling up your arm and blooming across your body.
You nearly short circuit, your face a mask of awe as you stare at your boyfriend in utter adoration. A few moments pass and you immediately jump to escape from his loving torture, butterflies gathering in your chest.
"I'll leave you to it then. I, uh, just remembered that I owe Penelope a phone call." You whisper and bashfully smile.
Before you're able to stand up from the couch, Aaron's warm hand drops down onto your thigh, squeezing it firmly as he hums softly. "Alright, sweetheart. I'll head up in a little bit.”
Growing positively dizzy from the feeling of his rough hand against your skin, you nearly tip over on your feet as you hurry up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. Jack was over at Jessica's house for the weekend, so you weren't able to scurry to him for help in distracting yourself.
You practically leap onto the bed, hurriedly grabbing your phone and immediately finding Penelope's contact.
Laying on your stomach, you don't have to wait long as she picks up on the third ring.
"Hello my beautiful angel, how can I be of service to you today?" Penelope muses out playfully, the giddy lilt of her tone telling you that she was positively beaming on the other side of the call.
"Pen, my love." You sigh dramatically, "Help me."
"Not that I don't love you, honey, but isn't Hotch home today too? I thought you'd be jumping his bones by now." She says with a dulcet tone that feels almost jarring when paired with her teasing remark.
"That's exactly the problem, Pen. It's like he wants me to jump his bones again. I mean, his arms look more perfect than usual and he definitely knows it." You hiss out.
Penelope lets out an amused chuckle. "Careful honey, you're sounding like a cat in heat."
"It's hard not to be when he's my man." You sigh in a love-struck manner, imagining the way his hands felt on your waist, his strong grip massaging you gently as they slip under your shirt.
"Is Jack with Jessica today?" Penelope asks. "If not, I can take him for a few hours while you both spend some quality time together."
You smile widely and shake your head even though she isn't able to see you. "Thank you for the offer, Pen, but he's with Jess for the weekend."
"Then go get your man, girl! You have the entire weekend alone, what's stopping you?" She practically squeals out, speaking as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"I know, I know! But I mean... we did it for a few hours this morning already. I worry that I'm going to overwhelm him." You say half-jokingly. While you did occasionally dwell on the fact that he was getting older, you weren't upset or too affected by the prospect of his age affecting his stamina.
"He runs for fun, it'll be fine. Besides, he can still... right?" Penelope trails off, seemingly maintaining a bit of self-restraint since Aaron was still her boss after all.
You blush and squeak out in shock. "Oh my gosh. Yes, he can still get it up, Pen!" Looking over your shoulder, you cringe a bit as you realize the bedroom door was cracked open a bit. Hopefully you weren't being too loud.
"Then I see no problem, honey. What's he up to anyway?" She asks lightly. You hear some shuffling in the background and the sound of porcelain plates being stacked.
"Reading." You say softly, picking at the plush duvet under you. "I'm making him reread Crime and Punishment."
"Honey, go save him." Penelope sighs out, barely able to suppress her giggles.
"From the book?" Your voice is coated in amusement.
"Yes, and possibly dying of boredom! I'll call you later tonight, okay? Oh! The girls also wanted to go shopping sometime next week too!" Penelope says happily, her mischievous tone clearly conveying that she would want an update later.
"Okay, okay, I'll leave you be now. But you three are getting nothing out of me next week." You warn playfully.
"We'll see about that." Penelope giggles and gives you a dramatic kiss through the phone. "Talk soon, honey."
The moment you put down your phone, you hear the bedroom door being pushed open. From the look on Aaron's face, you knew that he had overheard at least some parts of your conversation with Penelope.
"Good talk, sweetheart?" He asks lowly, lips tugged into a small smirk as he sits on the edge of the bed.
"Oh... yeah... done with reading?" You ask and smile a bit shyly, watching as he runs his hand along your leg.
Aaron hums softly and nods, his eyes darkening as he looks at you laying there. "Just remembered that I could be doing something a bit more exciting. Now what was it you were saying about my stamina?" He grins teasingly, his large hand sliding up to squeeze the flesh of your ass.
"You heard that?" You squeak out.
"Oh sweetheart, I heard much more than that." He chuckles deeply and gently flips you onto your back.
He crawls to hover over you, head dipping down to drop heated kisses along your neck and jaw. "Don't hold yourself back on my account, I love taking care of you." He mumbles against your skin, pulling back momentarily to look down at you with eyes full of love.
"It's not fair. You look too good all the time." You whisper almost petulantly, a playful glimmer shining in your eyes.
Aaron leans down to give you a firm kiss as he whispers against your lips. "So beautiful... you don't even know how much I want you all the time. How hard it is for me when I'm away on a case..."
He smirks a bit wider and his hand lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee. "Now, I hope you don't plan on getting out of this bed until Monday, baby."
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redcoralpot · 1 year ago
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Tougher Than Nails - Mike Schmidt X M!Reader
Warnings/Details: NSFW content, implied substance abuse, alcohol, cowboy!reader, hankie/cowboy hat code.
Summary: Mike goes to a bar downtown in hopes of getting his mind off of court, but instead finds something much healthier.
A/N: Everyone should thank my boyfriend for this idea; he's always the one that reminds me that I am technically a 'cowboy'. He saves a horse very often.
Word Count: 1.8K
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Bars weren’t really Mike’s thing. Any alcohol he’s ever had tasted like crap, and becoming an alcoholic would just be another check on Aunt Jane’s list to prove to the court that he wasn’t suitable for custody. Hell, he swore her perfume was still clinging onto his nose hairs, and all he wanted to do was escape her. Escape reality, too. Mike remembered when his father used to do just that after Garret disappeared, drowning himself in the bitter liquid at night, his speech slurred. That’s why he was here, at a bar in downtown Afton, while Maxine stayed with Abby. He was desperate.
The building was crowded, delightful chatter and jazz music filling the air. Lights were strung along the wooden walls, narrowly dodging the black and white photos hanging by themselves. More customers squeezed in behind him; Mike frantically searched for any open spot in the room. Hallelujah– a single stool was left vacant near the serving counter, and Mike shuffled into it, shoulders tense. The bartender seemed to notice his presence, as she leaned towards the man, still shaking another person’s drink. 
“You’re a new face,” she rattled, “may I see your license?”
Mike fumbled with his wallet, sliding the card for her to see, “Uh, sure.”
“Right, you’re all clear; would you like to open a tab?”
A man cut in before he could answer, and for the first time, Mike got a good look at the person sitting beside him, “Just add whatever he orders to mine, Molly.” 
She shrugged, the key hanging from her left pocket jingling, “Easier for me.”
You chuckled, the brim of your hat covering your eyes. It was decorated with embroidery and leather, complimenting your purple button up shirt, though that was partially hidden by a black vest. Two hankies hung out of your back, left pocket, similar to Molly’s keychain. One was rust colored, but the other was a complimentary gray; Mike thought it was an interesting stylistic choice. 
“I’ll just have a beer, thanks.”
As the bartender turned, scribbling in a notebook, you inquired, “So, what’s a fine boy like you doing ‘round these parts?”
Mike grabbed the foaming beer that was placed in front of him, “I live nearby.”
“That’s not the only reason, is it?”
He hesitated to answer, instead choosing to take a long sip of the beverage. It burned down his throat, the flavor making his lips curl and his head a little more dizzy. Somehow, it loosened his will, and he found his lips moving without his permission. Your energy was just hypnotizing; he felt himself being pulled in.
“Needed a break from stress,” Mike admitted, picking at the glass’ label.
You cocked your head to the side, your hat tipping upward, “Just ‘cause you’re in a hole, doesn’t mean you gotta keep digging. Alcohol isn’t the cure to what you’re feelin’.”
“What am I supposed to do? Not even my medicine works anymore.”
“I go here for stress relief too,” you assured, downing a shot, “but not necessarily for the drinks.”
Your hand hovered over the small of his back, looking at him for consent. When he didn’t move away, you settled your fingers there, feeling a shiver run through Mike’s body. Some of the previous tension released from his shoulders, and he almost leaned back in relief. Many of the customers in this bar were paired with the same sex, unlike most of the movies he’d seen that included the subject. So, he supposed it wouldn’t look too weird if he did.
You elaborated, “People can be cruel, can’t they, sweetheart? Comin’ to a place like this, where everyone’s like me in some way or another, is a damn good bonus.”
“Like you?”
“Y’know,” you gestured to your handkerchiefs, “queer and such.”
He paused, “Ah.”
“You didn’t know this was a boy bar?”
Mike replied, “I kinda just looked up the closest bar to my house.”
“Good to know.” Your hand fell away from his back.
He almost chased it. Mike liked the feeling, the weight of your fingers pressing into such an intimate spot. However, he wasn’t tipsy enough for that, and controlled himself. He watched as you spoke to Molly, the lady’s eyes flicking towards him and back, and you slipped her the money needed to cover the tab. You tipped your hat towards Mike, a respectful way to put distance between you, before disappearing into the suffocating crowd. Molly side eyed him, sweeping away his bottle, before leaving as well. Mike swallowed, pulling loose skin from his bottom lip with his teeth. It was now, or never– perhaps alcohol wasn’t the only way, after all. You were right. 
Mike could still see the very top of your hat swerving above the crowd, and he trailed after it to the best of his ability. A random girl almost elbowed him in the face, and he was sure his shins would be bruised after tonight. Your shadow was reflecting in the glass door, growing fainter and fainter as you walked further away, your hips swaying. Mike pushed it open, the vision dissolving, and cold air stung his cheeks. The moon reflected off of car hoods, the only way he was able to see where he was running. His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, as you flinched.
Mike’s ears were red, probably from the alcohol, and you stared at him, “What’re you doing?”
“I don’t know,” was the only answer you got before your collar was jerked forward.
Your lips crashed violently with his; your teeth clicking as he struggled to pull you closer. Mike was still fisting your shirt as you brought your hands to cup his jaw and the back of his neck, trying to gentle the kiss. 
You mumbled against his mouth, “Better not be some experiment of yours, pretty boy.”
“Nope,” he whispered, the aftertaste of whiskey on his tongue.
His back hit the side of your car, and his hands moved from your collar to swinging his arms around your neck. Your knee found its way in between Mike’s thighs, pressing against his crotch, and his groan was swallowed by your lips. Mike whined when you trailed down, aiming instead for his neck. Dark marks and bites soon decorated the pale flesh, his blood dripping a contrasting splash of color. 
Tugging on his earlobe, you challenged, “Gonna come back to my place?”
Mike doubted he ever agreed to something so quickly.
The drive was long, too long in his opinion. Though, it was most likely only fifteen minutes, at most. Mike didn’t even have to walk up the driveway to your cabin; his legs were locked around your hips as you carried him through the door and up the stairs. He ground his groin against you, searching for any possible friction. You tossed him onto your bed, unbuckling your belt, holding it taut. The man in front of you wiggled back and spread his legs to make room for you. You snickered at how willing Mike was, considering his hesitation when you first met.
You regularly kept lube on the bedside table, just to be prepared for when you brought men home from the bar. However, this one was different in a way you had trouble putting into words, other than positive. His thighs shook as you massaged the liquid into his hole, a hand covering his mouth to prevent you from hearing his noises. Ah, now that wouldn’t do, would it?
In response, you tugged his hand off of his mouth, “Lemme hear you.”
Such pretty sounds from a pretty mouth, it was truly a shame. When Mike immediately went back to covering them up, you slid your fingers out of him, instead reaching for your abandoned belt. His eyes trailed after your hands as they bound his wrists together in front of him, almost akin to handcuffs. Mike couldn’t see much of your expression after your head dipped down, only the shit-eating grin playing on your lips. Of course, that was before you took your hat off by the crown and placed it firmly on his head, though it was a tad too big for him.
“Why don’t you keep that safe for me, sweetheart?”
For a second, Mike was confused. Keep it safe? Just what were you planning on doing? He felt a grip on his waist, right before his world spun around him, and the positions were practically reversed. The guard was now sitting on top of you, or more so your crotch, his thighs caging in your hips. Mike’s hair was disheveled and the light on the ceiling created a sort of halo around him, and fuck, did you think he was pretty. Only a few select people had ever gotten to wear your hat, and you could confidently say that he was the most beautiful in it.
You unbuttoned your jeans, letting your cock slip through the opening, “You ready?”
“I’ve never done this before.”
You had a grip on his waist again, slowly guiding him down. You didn’t thrust, didn’t force him to go fast, and allowed him his proper time to adjust, “How’s that feelin’?”
“G-good,” he shuddered, precum leaking from his tip, “think ‘m ready.”
“You haven’t seen the brunt of it yet, boy!” You grunt, thrusting the rest of you inside, brushing against Mike’s prostate. 
The man on top of you moaned, and the sound was so uncharacteristically loud that even he seemed surprised by it. Mike leaned down, resting his tied fists on your chest in order to keep his balance. His sweat dampened your collarbones, his drool smearing on your neck, and the pathetic excuse of a guard tried leaving kisses over the areas he could reach. You soon found a rhythm to your thrusts; groans were punched out of your throat on their own.
Mike could feel heat rushing through his brain, bringing tears that stuck to his eyelashes, covering any thoughts or hesitance he may have had before. That wasn’t enough for it– it spread like wildfire down his body, down to where your fingers were leaving bruises, and down to his red, leaking dick. Something deep was brewing inside of him, nothing he’s felt since his hormonal teenage years. Hell, he didn’t even have time to process it when you kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear that he’s such a needy slut; it exploded.
When he finally came to, he could feel his thighs twitching and your heaving, sticky abs below him. His eyelids felt heavy, and all he wanted to do was stay there with you. You were rubbing circles into his back, attempting to pull out, but a grumble from Mike made you stop. In fact, you were saying things, but it sounded muffled and far away. He took great comfort in your voice, no matter what you were talking about. It was getting farther and farther away, yet still managed to follow him into his dreams. For the first time since the incident with Garret, he did not have a nightmare. 
-
Taglist: @cannabrisano @kai_beanz @fandomz-brainrot @slimemakermas
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deathofacupid · 8 months ago
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intellectual | peter parker
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summary: you overhear something you weren't supposed to, but it shouldn't have been said in the first place. in result, you can't help but wonder if peter wants something different.
warnings: implied smut, mentions of sex, insecurity, use of y/n
pairing: bimbo!reader x frat!peter
word count: 3.0k+ words (my longest fic yet-)
a/n: in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.
M.LIST | RULES/REQUESTING | ABOUT ME
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peter was totally smitten by you. really, he was. after all he's been through, it was kind of nice having someone who adores him as much as he does, even if you are... a tad bit dim-witted.
while he grew up surrounded by death, trauma, and more, you were raised sheltered, hidden away from all the bad things. and even though peter's been through some shit, he finds it to hold you so gently, like the pretty thing you are, as if you were stained glass; fragile, but so beautiful.
when he's holding you, all his soft, brown eyes can focus on are how your soft, manicured hands wrap around his rough, calloused ones. you're always careful not to hurt him with your acrylics.
even though you can be slow at times, it's almost impossible not to admire the way your clothes always hug your curves, glossed lips pulled into a pretty pout.
peter could have just about any girl he wanted on campus, but he didn't want any of them.
he wanted you, and only you.
maybe it's because you were different, and no, not in dim-witted nature. but because of how soft you were. you didn't know, and even if you did, understand the horrors he wittnessed out there everyday.
you were protected by a little (very pink) bubble that you lived in, so when he came home to you, it felt as if he was in a different world altogether. you were so damn good at distracting peter, and you didn't even know it.
you were in your own dorm room, watching a silly rom-com while peter was with his friends, he told you not to wait up for him, given that he would be up 'til the early hours of the morning. but you decided that peter and his goodnight kisses were slightly more important than your beauty sleep.
slightly.
you furrowed your neatly shaped eyebrows at something that one of the characters said, tilting your head.
ram-i-fic-a-tion? you thought, humming. pulling out your phone, you googled the word.
noun plural noun: ramifications
a consequence of an action or event, especially when complex or unwelcome. "any change is bound to have legal ramifications"
"legal ram-i-fic-a-tions?" you wondered aloud.
you skimmed the rest of the definitions, still confused. surely peter wouldn't mind if you gave him a quick ring? so you went ahead in did that, letting the sound echo in the room.
when he didn't pick up, you frowned.
"ummm..." you trailed off, calling one of his friends, spencer, instead. you weren't a stranger to him, but more of a mutual. after all, your roommate was dating him. actually, you'd ask alyssa, your roomie, but she wasn't here.
much to your happiness, spencer did pick up. "hiii, spence."
"y/n?" he said, slurring slightly.
"what does, like, ram-i-fic-a-tion mean?" you asked, careful to enunciate.
spencer was aware of... how your brain worked, and he wasn't a jerk about it (unlike some people). he was one of peter's closer friends, so you felt comfortable around him.
"ramification? oh, uh, it's like a consequence."
you frowned dumbly, "to what?"
"to an action. if you don't study for the final, you might not do well. that's a consequence to your action. a ramification."
"oh. oh! okay. thank you!"
he didn't disconnect right away, and you could hear one of his frat brothers, you were unsure who, talking. and of course, you strained your ears to listen.
"it doesn't get annoying or anything?"
you heard peter's voice come next, and instantly perked up. "what?"
"dude, be so for real. she's hot, but like, as dumb as a third grader. do you have to talk to her like that too?" he laughed.
oof, you thought, sucks to be whoever it was they were talking about.
"sometimes. she's good in bed, though."
wait. he was talking about you. your jaw dropped. i mean, you were stupid, but not this stupid. so this is what "saturday night with the boys" was all about?
you heard collective laughing. you did stupid things sometimes, but never had the mental compacity to be embarrased by them. this, though? this was different.
you trusted peter.
he was the only person who never, ever, spoke to or about you like that. in fact, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to like him so much. because he was patient, he was kind, and never did he once judge you.
well, that's what you thought.
but you were dumb enough to think that just because he never spoke about it to you, he never spoke about it all.
you immediately disconnected the call, dropping your phone. trying to focus back on the movie, you nibbled on a piece of popcorn.
but you just couldn't get over it. did it bother him?
all the questions? the dim-witted stupidity? all the pink?
reluctantly, you glanced the hot pink bowl that held your snack.
you didn't mean to be so... like that. you were just being yourself. did peter not like you being yourself? no, no, of course not. if he didn't, then why would he be with you?
a little voice in the back of your head rang out; "because you're good in bed."
maybe it wouldn't hurt to try and raise your iq?
you turned off the tv, hot pink popcorn bowl forgotten. alyssa wouldn't mind if you borrowed something, right?
you opened her room door, walking over to her bookself. wrinkling up your nose, you scanned her shelf. how could someone like reading so much?
it was so... gross.
oh, well. maybe peter was into intellectuals. and you had better become before he left you for someone like that.
your eyes paused at a book titled "the hobbit".
"what's a... hobbit?" you asked, not to anyone in particular. you skipped it, looking at her other ones.
"'twisted love', 'the fault in our stars'... what'd the stars do?" picking up the book, you read the back. "huh," you remarked, putting it back.
instead, you grabbed a couple self-help books, struggling to hold them with your acrylic nails, which, of course, were bright pink... accentuated with big charms; bows and hearts.
you went back over to your room, dumping them on your bed. checking your nails again, you drummed them against your palm to make sure they were intact.
you started reading the first one, curling up in a blanket, but you kept getting distracted. every five seconds, you look up to make sure your lashes were still in place, or that your skin wasn't to shiny, or that your hair was still perfect. and to be honest, you didn't really understand any of it.
like, who actually had the patience to read through all of it? how could a book cure all your crap?
and why would you read a book to feel better, when you could go to a spa, or a shopping spree.
credit cards were invented for a reason.
but you powered through, at the very least, you skimmed the words. there was no way you could read it word for word. but you wanted to try... for peter.
you wanted him to stick around, to love you, but not superficially. not for sex.
you stayed up until 1:30 (mostly reading, and you still didn't understand how people did this for fun), but didn't call peter. you'd talk to him tomorrow, maybe. first, you needed to get your facts straight. eventually, you got ready for bed.
this included showering, taking off your makeup, putting your hair in rollers, and your fifteen-step skincare routine.
you may have been half asleep, but you'd never skip a step.
peter came over around noon monday, when neither of you had classes. "jeez, babe," he groaned, you in his lap, "i've got so much to do. seriously, i'm never gonna get it done."
you twirled your hair, appearing nonchalant, "your mindset is either your best friend, or worst enemy."
you kept your eyes trained on your phone, waiting for peter to respond. looking up, you saw him blink. "uh... yeah. that was- that was very... un-y/n-like."
to be honest, you didn't even know what the saying meant. you just memorized it from your book. "was it dumb?"
"no, it was smart," peter replied, kissing your hairline.
"i'm normally dumb?" you asked, tearing up. lips pouted, voice moist, you made eye contact with him. you knew you were a little slow, but dumb? really?
"no! that's not what i meant. it just sounded- well, i- cause you never say stuff like that. you're my smart, pretty girl."
"oh, okay," you said, your nails tracing the curve of his back. you pecked him on the lips, but he brought you back for a longer kiss.
you giggled as he flipped your positions, peter on top.
"can i show you just how pretty you are?"
he didn't have to ask twice.
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you were in the dining hall, sitting with some of your friends, mixed with some of peter's.
they were talking as you picked at your salad, leaning into peter.
"ugh," sarah, you kind-of friend started, "my boss gave me a premotion."
"what the fuck are you complaining about?" alyssa scoffed.
"because! it means that i have to do more...! like, i'll have to get up earlier. i dunno if i'll take it. it's cooler than the one i have now, but but it's not as comforting."
you spoke up, completely confident, "commit to change. either embrace the challenge of pursuing your destiny or shy way and live in regret."
collective "oohs" and "damns" were heard around the table, and you reveled in it.
"okay, girl, you go."
"parker, when did your girlfriend get a braincell upgrade?" you looked at peter, waiting for him to shoot something back, but he didn't. you frowned slightly, going back to the salad.
it went on like that, you would pipe in and offer self-help advice (not really knowing what it meant) hoping for peter's attention. sometimes you got it, and sometimes you didn't.
it was fine, you wanted him to notice you. after all, you weren't reading for fun. you were doing it for him, so... just, like, notice already.
you'd been focusing so much on the self-help books, your nails had grown out, leaving space between your nail bed and acrylics. deciding to take some time away from the books and all their un-understandable wisdom, you wanted to paint your nails.
nothing to big, but more simple. you were finding it hard to turn the page with the large charms on the acrylics you normally had to.
you found some 100% acetone in your bathroom, so you soaked your nails, waiting for the acrylics to come off. once they got loose enough, they came off easily.
you did some prepping, then picked out two different shades of pink. you were about to start when you heard two long knocks, then two short ones.
(it was peter's special knock, so you'd always know when it was him.)
"come in!" you called out, and you saw a head of fluffy brown hair peek in.
"hey," he said, slipping in your room.
"hi, petey!"
he came up from behind you, hugging your waist. "whatcha doing?"
you opened a bottle of nail paint, "painting my nails."
"cute colors," he kissed your cheek, and you leaned in.
"right? pink is so pretty," you gushed.
"what are these?" peter asked, and you looked over curious as to what he was talking about.
"oh, just, like, lyss' books."
"yeah, but why're they in here?" he read the back of one, raising a brow.
you continued painting your nails, trying to appear chill. "i was reading them."
he seemed to do a double-take, and you frowned, "what?"
"nothing- nothing, i just..."
"i know how to read," you said, shoulders sagging. "i'm smarter than a third-grader," you didn't catch the slip-up, but he did.
that caught him off guard there, "what?"
"what?" looking up, you finally met his eyes.
"you said you- well, yeah, i know. you just don't-" he paused, "self-help books didn't seem like your thing is all. oh, is that why've you been saying all that?"
"saying what?"
"all the-" he didn't want to hurt your feelings, but if he was right, he already had. "the, um, advice?" he stammered. peter didn't trip over his words often, and you knew that.
you were sure that he knew that you knew, but you weren't sure if he knew for sure.
you shrugged, "doesn't it sound smart?"
"no, yeah, it does." he's treading very carefully. it was quiet for a brief moment; "did you hear?"
"hear what?"
"the... the comment i made?"
"oh, that one about me being stupid, but good in bed?" you said it so casually, as if it didn't bother you at all.
but it did. he knew it did.
he sighed, "i'm really sorry, baby."
"for what?"
"for saying that."
"no, you're sorry you got caught. you wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it."
"i didn't- i was drunk," peter tried again.
"drunk words are sober thoughts," something else you read, you aren't sure where.
he was starting to get really nervous. he didn't know what was going through your head, normally he had a good idea, but it wasn't anything like this. it didn't seem like you hated him, but he wasn't about to take advantage.
"no, i-"
"it's okay. i'm working on it," you said, trying to make him feel better. as if you were the one who'd messed up, not peter. the idea itself was insane to him, and it only made him feel worse.
"angel," peter started, "this is not your fault. please don't make it your fault. i'm the one who messed up, and what i said was not okay. it was a stupid, drunk joke, and i shouldn't said it."
you blew on your nails, blinking back your tears. mascara, the good stuff, was expensive. you looked up, shocked to see tears in his eyes. you don't think you've ever seen him cry before. well, maybe once, when you watched "titanic" with him.
peter wasn't one to get emotional, he still denied ever crying over that movie.
"it's okay," you repeated again. you were dumb, you knew that. it really wasn't his fault, you shouldn't have pushed him to feel like that.
"but it's not. and i know you know that, please tell me what i can do to make it better."
"but-"
"no, it's not," he said sternly, "and i cannot stress that enough. i'm really sorry, baby."
you capped the polish, you didn't know what to say. it wasn't your fault? okay, fine.
maybe he was right.
"i got really upset," you admitted.
"i know, baby," the tears are falling, he quickly wipes them away.
"did you really mean it?"
"no, no, no, of course not. i absolutely love you the way you are, and you shouldn't have to change yourself for anyone- especially not for me."
"so you don't think i'm only good for sex?"
"baby, no, baby, no!" baby, he used that word for affection; when he was guilty, trying to prove something to you... in this case, how sorry he was. "you are good for so many other things," he paused, "okay, that didn't sound great."
he took a deep breath, taking your freshly painted hands in yours, "don't mess up the polish," you warned, even though you were tearing up.
peter smiled slightly, that meant you weren't too upset, right? that he hadn't fucked everything up by great means?
"i haven't ever met someone like you, who loves me the same back. and i don't mean generally, but romantically. lots of people can't put up with me," he started, "but you do, and jesus, baby, i'm so greatful for that- and you," peter added.
"you are the bright pink light of my life. you're so different from other girls i've been with, you see me. you don't look at me, you see me. like, okay, maybe you aren't the greatest at math, but you don't have to be a s.t.e.m. genius to be smart."
peter was getting raw, he was getting vunerable. "i don't know how to use a curling iron for the life of me, i don't know the difference between mascara and eyeliner. well, i do, but i didn't before you."
you looked at him, opening your mouth to speak. you wanted to tell him he'd lost you somewhere along the line, but figured it was important for him to get this out.
"you've got a different mindset than me, and i love that. you're the biggest feminist i've ever met, and wait until you meet may. i think it's interesting that your entire personality doesn't revolve around your degrees and resumes, because, god, people like that are annoying. most of all, you're confidence is amazing. i never had anything like that in high school."
you knew that he was a nerd, kept his head down, shoulders sagging. "i just... i'm sorry. i don't know why i said it. i'm a huge insecure jerk that thinks he can get away with crap by projecting it onto his lovely, amazing, wonderful girlfriend. you're my favorite person, and i can't help but think you'll leave me one day. i thought that if i acted like i didn't care... i don't know. i- i don't... i'm sorry."
you took moment, that's the longest he's ever spoken to you, but he wasn't done, apparently.
"also, i don't care about sex. i mean, it's nice and whatever, but what's the point of it if i don't have you. what i'm trying to say is, i'd pick you over that any day, okay? it doesn't matter to me. i'm not with you for that."
"thank you," you said, it seemed appropriate. basically, he just compliented you a whole lot, and it worked; you seem to have a thing for praising. "and i forgive you. also, i hated those stupid books, and if they weren't, like, alyssa's, i'd burn them."
you shuddered, "i can't believe i read them."
"really?" peter asked, hopeful. you kissed away a stray tear, looking into his wet eyes. "we're okay?"
"we're so okay," you paused, "but you have to watch bridgerton with me."
he groaned, "fine." (you knew he liked it, he just wouldn't ever admit to it.)
"wait, so just checking, you aren't into, like, intellectuals or whatever?"
"i'm into you," he said, "whether or not you idenify as one."
taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod
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daysofyellowroses · 10 months ago
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steak
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carmen berzatto x reader | 3.8k | tw: pregnancy, implied smut, general nonsense
“I need a favor.”
“A favor?”
“Yes. A favor.”
You were already beginning to regret asking, watching Carmy swivel in his chair and ponder the request. Or he was staring into space, it wasn't clear.
“Alright,” He nodded after a moment. “What is it?”
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. It would have been easier to ask him to murder someone than what you were about to.
“It turns out that I am responsible for making 30 cupcakes for this Saturday and I could use some guidance.”
“I see,” Carmy nodded, pointing the spoon in his hand at you. “and what else? Sandwiches, burgers, hot dogs, stop me when I get the right one.”
You let out a sigh.
“And..three trays of sandwiches. And mini quiches, egg rolls, a crudités platter and a cake.”
“Okay,” Carmy sat up a little, lightly tapping the spoon against his cheek. “Just..a couple of questions.”
You walked closer to the desk, leaning against it and giving Carmy a nod. “Fire away.”
“First, why are you responsible for all of that?”
“Because apparently I promised my best friend if she ever got pregnant I would plan the entire baby shower.”
“Uh-huh. Why?”
“Because I was very, very intoxicated at her bachelorette party.”
He smirked a little, and you rolled your eyes with a small smile.
“Noted. Second question,”
“Third,” You interjected, holding up three fingers. “Technically.”
“Third question, is there a theme to this party?”
“No, of course not,” You frowned, folding your arms. “Themes are for kid's birthday parties and epic novels.”
“Hm, I thought so.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It just doesn't seem very..you know,” Carmy set the spoon down in his lap before interlocking his hands. “cohesive, I guess.”
You rested your hand on the desk, lightly tapping your nails on the surface.
“I'm willing to ignore that remark if you help me.”
“Alright, fourth question..why do I have to help you?”
You thought about it for a moment, working out your best angle to get him on board.
“Well..because I love my best friend and I want to give her an amazing experience, it's basically free publicity for the new restaurant, and we're..you know,” You gestured between yourself and Carmy with a grin. “We're friends. We're close. We kissed that time.”
“Yeah, yeah we did,” Carmy nodded, looking down for a moment before looking up with a smile. “When we were like..six? I don't see what that has to do with me adding to my already hectic schedule.”
“I would just really appreciate your help, even just a little guidance,” You smiled, holding your hands up. “What is the point of having a world-class chef as a friend if he doesn't help you out occasionally..”
“I promise to think about it,” Carmy nodded, picking his spoon back up and pointing at you. “Can you cook anything more advanced than french toast?”
“Depends on your definition of advanced,” You shrugged, pushing off the desk. “I look forward to your decision, I know you'll make the right one.”
“Get out of here,” Carmy rolled his eyes with a small smile. “I'll text you.”
You were heading to the front door when you bumped into Richie, who was carrying a box he promptly dropped on the nearest plastic-covered surface when he saw you, wiping his hands.
“Hey. What brings you here?”
“Me?” You gestured to yourself as you walked closer to Richie. “I just..I thought it was time. To declare my undying love for you.”
“Hm,” Richie nodded, rubbing his jaw before stepping closer to you and touching your shoulder. “I gotta be honest, I thought you'd never do it. Vegas wedding?”
“Vegas wedding,” You nodded with a grin. “Bye fuck-face.”
“See you later darling.”
It was the following afternoon when you got a very simple text from Carmy, relief flooding you as you read it.
‘Fine. Address?’
Opening your front door and seeing Carmen Berzatto standing on the other side was something you hadn't experienced for a long time, but it was a welcome return.
“Come on in, everything is set up in the kitchen,” You smiled, holding the door open and frowning slightly as you saw a worn grocery store bag in Carmy's hand. “Did you bring stuff when I told you that you didn't need to?”
“Sure did,” Carmy nodded, gesturing to his shoes. “Off? On?”
“Whatever you're comfortable with,” You waved your hand, gesturing to the bag. “I got everything, you really didn't need to waste your money on..liquid potassium or whatever, the food is not going to be anything too complicated.”
Carmy raised a brow as he slipped off his shoes. “You do know I'm a chef, not a mad scientist, right?”
“Oh shut up,” You sighed as he laughed, leading him into the kitchen.
“The fuck is liquid potassium anyway?”
“Here we are,” You spun around to face Carmy, gesturing to your humble kitchen, the dining table covered in various ingredients, in no particular order. “I really appreciate your help, I know you're busy.”
“It's fine,” Carm nodded, walking over to the table and setting the bag on the floor before picking up things on the table and inspecting them. “I'm not uh..I'm not needed, today.”
“Well I need you,” You grinned, walking over to the table. “The plan is I prepare everything today, then tomorrow I just have to heat up, and serve.”
“Organized, I like it,” Carmy nodded, looking over to you. “Where exactly do I fit in all this?”
“You..are my assistant for the day. Executive assistant, really.”
You gestured to the bag on the floor. “Show me what you got.”
An hour later, your kitchen was a whole lot messier, but progress was going well. Carmy had the patience of a saint, calmly explaining how everything was done. You were surprised how quickly you were picking up what he taught you, usually you got halfway through a YouTube cooking tutorial and gave up, ordering takeout instead.
“Okay, what's next on the list?” You asked, sprinkling herbs onto the egg roll pastry before wiping your hands. “I still can't believe you made me write a fucking list.”
“You needed the list,” Carmy grinned, reaching for the slip of paper. “Trust me. Okay, once you've finished those we can..almost cross off all the savory, just crudités but that's pretty simple. I can show you how to make dips, if you want.”
“Thought you'd never ask,” You grinned, flicking a loose crumb of pastry at him. “the vegetables are in the..”
You looked up for a minute, trying to think.
“Bottom of the fridge,” Carmy supplied, gently touching your back as he passed you to get to the fridge. “got them.”
You rolled up the pastry under your hands, setting it aside with the other egg rolls that had been prepared.
“So how has it been, being back?” You asked, going to rinse your hands. “I feel like I never asked you properly.”
“It's..fine, yeah,” Carmy replied, his head in the fridge when you glanced over to him. “Hasn't changed, much, well..you know. Never thought I'd end up back here.”
“At least you got out,” You shrugged, drying your hands before moving back to the counter. “How was New York? Incredible?”
“Incredible,” Carmy repeated, coming back to join you and reaching for a bowl. “Hand me that cucumber, please?”
“I need to visit one day,” You sighed, reaching for the cucumber and handing it over. “It's like..it's just there, I can go anytime, but I don't..I will, though.”
“Mm,” Carmy nodded. “You can pour greek yogurt into a bowl if you want.”
“On it,” You smiled, going to get a bowl. “I feel like such a domestic goddess right now, I gotta say. I never really cook. Not like this.”
“Are you enjoying it?” Carmy asked, not looking up from cutting up the cucumber. “I know cutting up vegetables isn't exactly an adrenaline rush.”
“I am enjoying it,” You got a bowl and went to set it on the counter, standing by Carmy. “It's relaxing. I'm not thinking about anything except the next step. I don't have to worry about anything except what I add next.”
“Lemon,” Carmy gestured to the yellow fruit over on the table. “Worry over.”
You smiled as you spooned the yogurt into the bowl, glancing over to Carmy. “You wanna know a secret?”
“Is it..that you're actually a serial killer who kills your victims by liquid potassium poisoning?”
“Oh shut the fuck up,” You groaned, going to grab the lemons as Carmy laughed and shook his head.
“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. What's this other secret?”
“No, I'm not telling you now,” You sighed, taking the lemons back to the counter. “If you're just gonna be an ass.”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Carm murmured softly, gently nudging you. “Please tell me.”
“It's a world exclusive secret,” You grinned, walking over to the table and picking up your bag from one of the chairs. “Only three people will now know..”
You reached into your bag, pulling out a clean white envelope.
“Time to see if we need to use the pink or blue food dye.”
“What do you mean?” Carmy looked over to you. “Like a..gender reveal? That's still a thing?”
“I know it's a little cheesy,” You shrugged, looking down at the envelope. “But my best friend is just really excited to have this baby, she wants to know everything she can. So she gave me this,” You held up the envelope. “And I get to whip up some frosting.”
“So, what's it gonna be?” Carmy asked as you walked back over.
“Let's see,” You opened the envelope slowly, feeling Carmy's eyes on you. “Ah..not what I expected.”
You handed the paper over to Carmy as you picked up a lemon. “There's gonna be a little kid running around that looks like her..crazy.”
“Nice, though,” Carmy shrugged, setting the paper aside. “You know, if you..if you're someone that wants that.”
“Mm,” You nodded, taking a knife to cut the lemon. “She has, for a long time. I was so excited for her when she told me. Then I went and agreed to do all this, because..”
“You were drunk?” Carmy supplied.
“Yes, that,” You laughed, shaking your head. “It's not going that bad though, right? Everything is under control.”
“True, but uh..” You looked up as you felt Carmy's hand on your arm, looking down and finding yourself staring at his tattoos.
“You might want to cut the lemons, not your fingers.”
“What? Shit,” You frowned as you looked back to your hands, a trickle of blood appearing. “Spoke too soon.”
“It's okay,” Carmy led you to the sink. “just wash it off, have you got band-aids?”
“Uh..yeah, I think so,” You nodded, running the water. “in the bathroom cabinet.”
“Okay, wait here.”
A few minutes later you were leaning against the counter watching Carmy apply a band-aid to your finger with the precision of a surgeon.
“I can't remember the last time someone put a band-aid on me,” You murmured softly. “Thanks.”
“Don't mention it,” Carm looked up, his hand still holding yours. “I'm an expert at it.”
“So I see,” You smiled, inspecting your finger. “Excellent work. I'll be sure and recommend you.”
“I might need the extra work,” He sighed. “We're getting close to the deadline and it just feels like we're not progressing.”
“Hey,” You gently squeezed his hand. “Stressing out won't change anything except to make everything harder. Just keep going, do what you need to do, and then on the tiny, tiny, chance it doesn't work out you have a career lined up as a professional band-aider. You can patch up my victims.”
Carmy was quiet for a moment before he laughed, really laughed, and you felt a weight slip off your shoulders.
After a moment a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your eyes held on each other.
“I‐”
“I should actually be going,” Carmy spoke before you could finish. “I just remembered I need to call this guy about the..”
“Okay,” You nodded, clearing your throat. “I can..I can handle the rest. Don't let me keep you if you're in a rush.”
You could see the guilt in Carm’s eyes, choosing to look away.
“I'm sorry to leave you in the middle of all this.”
“Don't be sorry,” You shrugged, looking down to your bandaged finger. “It's my responsibility, I got it. Thank you for your help.”
Carmen gave you a nod and you mustered up a smile in return, watching him leave.
A couple of hours later, the sun had set and your kitchen lights were bright as you flicked some cupcake batter off your fingers. When you heard a knock at the door you looked up, pausing for a minute before grabbing a cloth to wipe your hands.
“Coming, hang on.” You called, setting the cloth aside and heading to the door.
It wasn't a total surprise to see Carmen on the other side.
“Hey,” He said after a moment. “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” You stood aside, holding the door open. “Come on in.”
You watched him as he took a deep breath, hand clutching the zip of his jacket.
“So, about earlier, I-”
“I know,” You smiled, holding up your hand. “It was a lot. It was fun, and..domestic, and kind of intense, and that's a lot. I get it.”
“Yeah,” Carmy breathed, nodding sofly. “But..I'd still like to help you out, if you'll let me.”
“Then get your shoes off and get in the kitchen,” You smiled. “I'm just starting the cupcakes. Assistance is definitely needed.”
Half an hour and a lot of batter later, the cupcakes were in the oven, and the daunting prospect of the cake stood in front of you.
“Do I really need to make a cake and cupcake?” You mused, looking at the messy counter. “It feels excessive.”
“You're making the cake,” Carm nudged you gently. “Show me what you've learned.”
“Prepare to be amazed,” You grinned. “For better or worse.”
You cleared some space on the counter and glanced over to Carmy for a moment with a raised brow. “Hold still, you got batter in your hair.”
You gently moved your hand to carefully remove the fleck of batter.
“Would I be out of line to suggest you might be overdue for a haircut?”
Carmy laughed softly and shook his head, ruffling his messy curls.
“It's on a list, somewhere. I'll get round to it eventually.”
“I could do it,” You suggested, looking back to the counter and taking a clean bowl. “I know my way around a pair of scissors.”
“Really?”
“Really really,” You nodded, reaching for the flour. “you help me with this cake, I'll make you look like a new man.”
“Deal.”
Once the cupcakes were out of the oven and the cake was in, you sent Carmy off to wash his hair in your shower, leaning against the counter when he was gone and taking a deep breath. You reached for the note that your best friend had given you, smiling as you read over it.
When Carm came back into the kitchen, you felt your heart race a little. He was dressed the same of course but his damp hair was slicked back, and he had a warm, clean scent that still had a musk to it that was really doing it for you.
“The cake will be a while, I checked,” You smiled. “Skewered it like a pro. Take a seat, let's get you fixed up.”
“Are you going to skewer me?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as he sat on the chair you'd moved up by the counter. “I'm a little intrigued.”
“You'll see,” You grinned, picking up the blue towel you'd grabbed when Carmy was in the shower. “Be on your best behavior just in case.”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Alright,” You draped the towel around Carmy's shoulders, adjusting it a little before picking up the scissors and a comb. “Let's see what we can do. Head down, please.”
“About earlier,” Carmy began, and you felt a knot twist in your stomach. “I..I just want to apologize, I shouldn't have just left like that.”
“It's okay,” You murmured softly, gently combing his hair and holding the ends between your fingers. “Like I said, I get it.”
“No, it's..it's complicated,” Carmy sighed. “Because..I don't want you to think that I didn't enjoy being domestic and having fun with you, because I did, and I think you're great, I really..I really like you and it just freaked me the fuck out a little.”
“Like when we were six,” You smiled softly, gently snipping his hair. “And I kissed you. You freaked out and left me alone in that treehouse. I was devastated.”
“Hey I didn't expect it,” Carm shrugged. “You didn't give me a heads up.”
“I'm giving you one now,” You grinned, lightly tapping his head with the comb. “Head up, please.”
“Why did you do it?” Carm asked, soft curiosity in his voice.”I mean, why did you..why me?”
“You weren't like the other boys in our class,” You shrugged, gently sweeping the comb through Carmy's hair. “And you weren't like Richie or your brother. You were just..Carmy. I always thought about you. I liked that you were doing your own thing. Tilt your head sideways, please..thanks.”
He stayed quiet while you cut his hair so you kept talking.
“I don't think I really had a crush on you or anything back then, I just liked you. Then as we got older I started seeing you differently but I never acted on it because I didn't think you were interested. We never really hung out much, for all I knew you were a major dick. Then,you were gone and I tried to forget you..head down, please.”
“What do you think now?”
You thought about it for a moment, holding the comb in Carmy's hair.
“I think..you've actually got really great hair.”
“That so?”
“Oh yeah,” You nodded. “I mean usually it looks like a bird should be nesting in it so anything is an improvement.”
He laughed slightly and you felt your shoulders drop a little.
“I also think,” You murmured softly, slowly closing the scissors on the ends of his hair. “Those tattoos on your hands are really doing it for me.”
“Yeah?
“Big time.”
A silence hung over you as you continued the haircut, trying to keep your hands steady.
“Just because I freaked out doesn't mean that I don't..that I haven't been thinking about you.”
“Yeah?” You mused, lightly brushing some hair off the towel.
“Big time. But..” Carmy let out a sigh, clearing his throat. “I'm really not..an expert at the whole relationship thing. I'm not even a novice, I'm like..a nightmare. I can't do the flowers and dates and meeting the parents and all that like..I know I should want all that and maybe I do but..something just stops me and I can't..I can't do it.”
You slowly walked around to stand in front of Carmy, meeting his eyes as you glanced down.
“Head up, please.”
You focused your attention on his hair, feeling the nervous energy radiating from him.
“First of all, you know my parents. So that's not relevant. Second of all..I'm not saying that I want a relationship because I don't even know if I do. But..I wouldn't mind having someone I hang out with, watching movies and talking shit and eating takeout and figuring out if we want to be more but it's okay because we're still good how we are. And I could see you being that person.”
You took a step back, tilting your head slightly.
“All done.”
“Good,” Carmy nodded, standing up and stepping closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your face and leaning in close til you felt like you couldn't breathe. “You can check the cake.”
You let out a frustrated sigh before laughing and moving your hands to grip the towel around Carmy's shoulders.
“You're definitely a major dick.”
You pulled him in for a kiss, feeling a rush shoot through you. When you pulled back you thought your heart was on fire.
“Wow, you've really improved,” You grinned. “I'm impressed.”
“You don't know the half of it.” Carmy grinned, pulling you back in for another kiss.
He wasn't lying, as you discovered when he put you up on the counter and feasted on you til you cried.
You had wasted no time, pulling him right down onto the kitchen floor to show what you'd learned too.
The next day, when you watched your best friend cut into the cake and scream with joy as layers of pink and blue sponge were revealed, you made a silent vow to volunteer your services more often.
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holdmytesseract · 7 months ago
Note
Hi love i wanted to request a drabble/blurb with tom hiddleston where he is getting ready with his pregnant wife for an event and she says something like i look like a whale or huge.....
Some reassurance, comfort and implied smut!!!!!!!
Nothing Less Than A Goddess
Tom Hiddleston x pregnant!Reader
Warnings: pregnancy stuff, insecurities, fluff, tiny bit suggestive smut
Word Count: blurb
a/n: Thank you for that sweet request, nonny! I hope you like what I came up with! 🤗
P.S. This gif is how I imagined him to look in that oneshot. 👀
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You stood in the bedroom in your underwear, after just having stepped out of the shower. "Love, are you ready soon? Luke will be here in about twenty minutes." You heard your husband call out for you, from which you presumed to be the kitchen or living room.
"Umm, yeah, I, uh, need to get dressed and perhaps put on a little make-up, but beside that..." An answer came immediately. "Shall I help you, darling? Or do you get along alone?"
You wanted to think about Tom's offer for a moment, but your mouth was faster than your brain. "Yes, please!"
"Alright! Just let me take off my suit jacket and shoes again!"
Now you kind of had a guilty conscience.
"Babe, you don't have to get halfway undressed just to help-" But it was, of course, already too late. Tom appeared no minute later in the bedroom, just in a navy blue shirt and tie, matching navy blue suit trousers and - black socks. "Yes, I have to, darling. No excuses. It's my obligation to help you," Tom stated, while making his way over to you and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek; palms came to rest on your six-month baby bump. "After all, I'm this little bean's dad," he announced; wearing one of his dazzling smiles.
Well, that was true. He had a point.
You couldn't help but smile and placed your forearms on his shoulders; fingers buried in his long blond-brown locks. "Okay," you said; nodding. "Thank you." Tom smiled even wider and turned his head to press a soft kiss against the bare skin of your arm; his scruff slightly tickling and scratching you.
"Now, let me help you." You nodded and turned to pick up your matching white dress from the bed. Tom being the gentleman and caring husband he was, helped you even to step inside; making sure that you didn't lose your balance. Then he zipped the zipper of the dress up; warm fingertips brushing your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine.
Once you were fully dressed, you took a look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The dress was new. You had never worn it before. How could you, with the steadily growing baby within your womb? Impossible. That dress would fit you probably not even a month...
"And?" Tom stepped behind you; hands on your hips and pulling you against your chest. "What do you think?"
You bit your lip; giving yourself a once-over. You gently turned from side to side in his embrace; getting a look from each angle. "I-I, uh, I honestly don't know, Tommy... I mean, I like the dress. It's beautiful, but..." "But?"
You sighed; knowing that lying to your husband wouldn't work. "I... I feel like I look like a whale. I-I mean, I am huge..." You swallowed hard; feeling very insecure all of a sudden.
Behind you, Tom blinked in disbelief. "Apologies... What did you just say, darling?" "That, uh, that I look like a... whale..." Your voice was barely above a whisper. The words hadn't even left your lips entirely, when the Brit started to shake his head. "Oh, no, no, Mrs. Hiddleston. I see what you're doing - and it's not good. I won't let you walk down that dark path."
Tom turned you gently in his embrace; pointer finger and thumb cupping your chin. "Look at me, darling." You complied; your eyes meeting his stunning ones. "You are neither huge nor do you look like a whale. Do I need to remind you that you are pregnant and that it's more than normal for your body to change?" "Y-Yes, but-"
"Ah.Ah," Tom interrupted you immediately. "Apologies, darling, but no. No buts. If you are anything, then beyond beautiful. Stunning. The prettiest woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Nothing less than a goddess." You gasped; feeling your heart skip a few beats. "A-A goddess?"
Tom nodded. "A goddess, yes. Your skin is glowing. You look more radiant than ever. Your curves are..." He took a short break; licking his lips and swallowing hard. "...absolutely delicious. Drop-dead sexy. To me, Y/N, you are even more attractive than you've already been. I can't take my eyes off you. Especially not since your pregnancy really started to show."
You were kind of overwhelmed by his words; not having expected this. "Y-You really think that?" You asked; still a bit uncertain.
Tom smiled; his other hand giving your hip a soft squeeze. "Darling, would I ever lie to you?"
Your eyes widened. "N-No! Of course not!" He kissed your forehead. "See?"
You blushed.
"Now do you believe me, or do I have to show you how much I desire your body, once we get back home tonight?"
You wetted your lips; suddenly feeling bold. Tom's words had finally gotten through. Especially the last ones.
"Hmm, perhaps, you should yes," you answered; hand playing with his tie. Tom chuckled darkly; his hand on your hip sliding down to give your ass a small, playful slap. "Gladly."
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Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger
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vhstown · 1 year ago
Text
ain't no love; pt. 2
"ain't no love in the heart of town"
— miles g morales x gn!reader series
SUMMARY: Miles Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.
SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 →
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chapter summary: [MILES POV] Miles thinks there's something sinister going on at Visions. But first, he has to ask you out — to a job fair.
content/warnings: mentions of food/hunger, implied kidnapping, use of drugs (not by miles or reader) and there are some word meanings at the end!
word count: 4.7k
a/n: never thought id make it this far. 2/4 yo! thank you @qiupachups for proofreading 🙏 my g fr
“Take your headphones out.”
“~Ain’t no love… in the hear–”
Miles slipped his earbud out before putting his hand into his pocket again; it’d go back in once he left the counsellor’s office anyhow. First, he had to deal with the woman in front of him — Ms. Weber, the woman he’d been avoiding all week.
“Why didn’t you come to see me yesterday?” The woman peered at him through her red-framed glasses. Her disapproving gaze was one Miles was yet to get used to.
“Had to uh, see a teacher.” Her gaze became more disbelieving than disapproving. It was true, though, his calc teacher wasn’t the only faculty member he seemed to be annoying today.
“Right, and they didn’t tell you to take out your headphones?” The woman leaned over on her desk much like Mr. Wellston had, except it actually had the intended effect, like he was talking to his mother; Miles fumbled a bit with the earbud in his pocket. “We need to discuss your extracurriculars.”
“Do I need extracurriculars? I mean, I kinda already got some.”
“Such as?”
“An extra calc class. And Spanish catch-up. And English—”
“Something that isn’t to do with your academics, Miles — hence extra-curricular. College applications are right around the corner.”
“I’m doin’ fine right now,” he shrugged. Weber didn’t look very impressed.
“If you wanna go out of state, "fine" isn’t enough. You’re not the only kid applying.”
“Not like I said that.” He leaned back, making his chair creak loudly.
Talking to Ms. Weber felt like a chore. Sure, she had his best interest at heart, but she’d never know the half of it. His cooperativeness was running thin as the ache in his muscles worsened — if only Aaron didn’t make him get so serious all of a sudden. Miles couldn't listen to everyone, he guessed.
The woman leaned forward, tilting her head, maybe for emphasis. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Miles.”
Leaning back wasn’t helping with the soreness, or Ms. Weber. “Not if there was no cake to begin with.”
She let out a breath, a more civil version of the loud sigh building up in Miles’ lungs. “How about this? You try your hand at some volunteering.”
“Volunteering?” He was already sure that he wouldn’t bother. He did plenty volunteering already — if illegal vigilantism counted.
“There’s a careers fair for freshmen soon. It’d look good on your application if you helped to organise.”
“Aren’t teachers supposed to do that?”
“I’m right in front of you.” Her tone was drier than his.
“You’re just a counsellor though—” Miles’ lips pressed together, Ms. Weber’s eyes narrowing at him. He didn’t want the same fate that guy had calling his mom “just a nurse”, but it came out before he could stop himself.
“The week after winter break,” she continued. Being a counsellor was less stressful than a nurse, it seemed.
Winter break was after this week — that was when he’d finally stop training for a little while. The week after was the job fair, and…
“So it’s just me that’s doin’ it?”
The counsellor contemplated for a moment, her own lips pursing. “You could ask someone to do it with you. One of your friends, maybe.”
Like he had one of those.
“Huh? What’d you say? Someone’s waiting? You got friends?”
“Miles, c’mon.”
Maybe he did.
“Yeah, fine — I’ll do it,” he muttered. Weber’s expression relaxed, as much as it could with that gruff air still about her.
“Okay, good. Just bring your friend here after school.” Miles simply nodded — now with another thing to think about. “You can go back to lunch.”
He got out of the chair, his hand already on the door handle before Weber spoke again.
“Well done on coming in, by the way.” Miles turned back for a moment, mumbling something like a thanks. He tried not to feel weird about the odd sincerity of her words as he walked through the hallways.
“~Ain’t no love, and in the heart of the city…”
Miles had a lot to think about in general, but only about 20 minutes to think about what he was going to say to you. He also thought about what he was going to eat later — maybe his mom made something. He hoped his uncle didn’t finish the stew. At least his stomach didn’t grumble… Miles tried not to smile, even if nobody was watching.
Though he wanted to talk to you outside of class, he never really had any excuse. The only reason he’d talked to you at all was because that Rafa asshole decided bothering Mrs. Hernandéz wasn’t enough. Miles wasn’t stupid, but Rafael had drawn a massive red target on his own back. It was a miracle that you decided to say something, for Miles and Rafael.
A little height difference wouldn’t make his ankles any harder to break. He half-shook away the thought. No need to get expelled when he had to be here for long enough to confirm his suspicions.
“He went missing, and now he’s teaching calculus at Visions?”
“Yup.”
“That’s my high school.”
“…Jeff did us a service with these files, huh man?”
And so Miles had gone to Mr. Wellston’s classroom with you. It only left him with more questions.
Wellston almost seemed askance when you two walked in together — he didn’t even mention Miles’ earbud. The man was reluctant to let Miles take the extra class with you, for some reason, but Miles could play dumb when he needed to. Something about the whole arrangement was off to him — like it had set off a sixth sense Miles didn’t have.
Really and truly, you were just some kid from his class that happened to be caught up in all of this. If he had a reason, he’d tell you to not go to that stupid class in the first place. He was probably a better tutor anyway — Wellston didn’t seem like the teacher type anyway.
But he was just some kid from your class too — Miles Morales. Gonzalo Morales, though he doubted you knew, or cared. Probably the only person who knew his middle name was his mom; she was always talking about it, his name — to be proud. He had his mother’s last name for a reason, one he never knew about until Aaron told him: keeping him away from crime — his dad’s side. If only she knew what he was up to now.
If only his dad knew what he was up to now.
Miles Gonzalo Morales — whoever that was, was sweating a little at the moment. That was walking quickly, not because he had to figure out what to say in the next 10 seconds. Talking to you? No big deal. He’d done it before… once.
Miles had talked to you once. This past week, all he’d learnt about you was your first name and the fact that you sucked at using your calculator.
Hunched over a textbook with a crumpled up juice box in your hand, Miles spotted you sitting by yourself in the corner of the cafeteria. It’d be an easy conversation: he could bring up the textbook and talk to you alone. The pang of embarrassment that shot through him said otherwise. You looked like you did in Spanish, quiet, focused, a little stressed — like the sketch of you that was crumpled up in his blazer pocket. In the sketch, you were facing away. Right now, your eyes were on him. Mier— (Shi—)
“Can you move?” Miles hastily stepped away, realising he was blocking the line. He tried not to catch the girl’s annoyed stare, and the many others, holding back his grimace and heading for your table.
He sat opposite you; the seat was cold, and he wished he’d brought his jacket. What if it looked like he was shaking, or something? This was stupid. It wasn’t that cold. Just ask, dumbass.
“Hey uh, pana.” Your eyes were on his again, and he tried to smile. “You studyin’?”.
“Trying to.” Gaze trailing back to the textbook, you closed it with a sigh he could only imagine with his music playing in-between the cafeteria noise.
The cover read “AP CALCULUS BC: 1st Edition” — he knew there were at least ten revisions. Maybe you liked collecting old textbooks like he did old comics — that’d be stupid.
“Still don’t know how you got six.” He took out his earphone, before realising what you meant.
“Litres per hour,” he corrected, immediately feeling like punching himself for it. “Could explain it… if you want.” The cold plastic cafeteria bench dug into his palm as his grip on it tightened. Miles Morales — Brooklyn’s only vigilante, and now an AP Calc tutor
“Uh, sure.” You took out a pencil, which clattered far too loudly on the table. He watched you grit your teeth at the sound before giving him an expectant, somewhat unsure look. Miles took the pencil in his hand and started scribbling in the back page of the textbook, with you watching intently.
It was slightly warm, and wrote nicely — would probably draw nicely too. Not important. Just solve the damn thing.
“Why does this equal to the derivative, though?” you interrupted, pointing at the garble of letters and numbers. He had to hold back a sigh, like he wasn’t the one to offer you help. If there’s one thing he didn’t get from his mom, that was his patience — no wonder she was a nurse and he wasn’t a tutor.
“Cause if you take g of x as like, let’s say v or sumn’…” he murmured, brows knitting together as he scribbled out a couple more lines on the side. Rewriting the equation, he glanced at you occasionally, hoping you were getting it.
“Wait, wait, so…”
A flash of realisation came over your face before you abruptly took the pencil from his hand, making his jaw clench as your hand brushed his. You continued the line of working, explaining it to yourself while Miles gave quiet “yeah”s and nods.
“Then all of that should equal six.” The pencil dropped with a quiet thud, rolling onto the inside of the textbook. “Litres per hour,” you added quickly, giving him a meek smile.
“…Yeah. You got it.” Miles could only hold your gaze for a moment, until the eagerness in your eyes had dissipated, and the two of you were left staring at each other. The bend of his knees practically hooked around the seat as he reeled back, realising he’d been leaning over a little too close.
Miles cleared his throat, pushing the textbook back towards you. “You get it now?”
“Yeah.”
The corner of your mouth quirked up; maybe you were a little proud of yourself. All you needed was a little guidance — and he was able to make you understand. He smiled — mentally, of course. Miles Morales — best AP Calc tutor in Brookly—
“Did you need something?”
“Uh, yeah actually, uh…”
Uhhhhhh…
“Uh…?” you repeated.
Miles held his breath; maybe some survival instinct would force him to spit it out. How was he supposed to say this?
“You free? In a couple weeks?”
“…Huh?” Your eyes widened. The cafeteria seemed to go silent.
Definitely not like that.
“Uh, like, for a… volunteer thing,” he corrected, hastily. The way he grit his teeth made his voice sound funny. Nice going, Morales. “I’m doing it. Just thought I’d ask.”
“Oh, um…” Your eyes narrowed in thought, as Miles recovered from un-asking you out. “Maybe? What’s it for?”
“Some job fair — for freshmen.” Your expression turned uncertain. Miles bit the inside of his lip so hard he thought he might split it
“Um…” The way your eyes narrowed was making doubt pool in his stomach. “You know what? Yeah, sure.”
“Really?” Yes, you idiot. “I mean, uh cool.”
“Cool…”
The cleaners were starting to wipe away at the tables. No wonder it seemed so silent — most people had left. “So what do I have to do?” you
“You gotta go to the counsellor’s office after school. We’re gonna uh, help organise and stuff.” He swallowed dry. As much as he didn’t want to be the kid that was always in the counsellor’s office, it wasn’t like he could avoid it. You didn’t ever mention it, but it’s not like anyone did outright.
“Okay,” you nodded simply, letting out a sigh and throwing the ancient textbook into your bag. Miles stood up after you, flexing his sore, bench-marked hand.
“Are you sure you wanna go to that calc class?” you asked, making him look up.
It wasn’t like he had much of a choice — but you didn’t know that. “If you go to that fair.”
You smiled again, probably at the situation — maybe at him.
“Deal. See you Friday.” You waved, and Miles let out a sigh as you walked away.
Being a vigilante was way easier than talking to people.
“~When you were mine, oh I was feeling so good…”
The rest of the day dragged on with the soft kick of bass and the hum of a guitar in his ear. The only thing Miles could think about was the fact that he had to meet you after school. The fact that you said yes surprised him. You were classmates, acquaintances at most — maybe you could actually live up to the “pana” thing.
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“~Cause your love lit up, the whole neighbourhood…”
“Miles — question eight?” Miles lifted his head from the desk, staring at the question sheet for a moment.
“Uh… forty two thousand,” he guessed, eyes narrowing at Ms. Calleros in a mix of doubt and hope.
“Forty two thousand what?”
“Six… Litres per hour.”
“Lit— Joules,” he stuttered out.
“…Yeah. You got it.”
Damn it.
RIIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIIIING! Miles was thinking about you too much, and thinking about AP Physics too little.
“Remember your homework due next week!” his teacher called out as everyone scrambled to pack up and leave.
Miles let himself sigh; it was one of many he wanted to let out today. He drew his hand away from the ear with his earbud in. At the same time, he locked eyes with his teacher. Mierda. (Shit.)
She gestured for him to come to her desk with a not-so entertained look on her face. Nothing new, he supposed.
“You know you can’t have your headphones in during class,” she started, glancing at his palm with the earbud in it.
It was faintly murmuring. Miles just awkwardly pressed the pause button.
“I know.”
“There seems to be a lot you know and don’t put into practice, Miles.” It was like every teacher was out to get him. Guess he wasn’t being as sneaky about the music as he thought.
“Sorry,” he offered, half-heartedly. Might as well get this over with.
“What were you listening to?” she asked, eyebrow lightly raised. “Apart from my lesson.”
“Uh… don’t know the name.”
“Are you sure? Because it’s been playing all class.” And since lunch — he hadn’t bothered to turn it off. He didn’t know it was that loud, though.
“I gotta to go to the counsellor’s office…” Miles said in a way that sounded more like a question. He pointed to the door like it would help.
“And I have to go to a meeting, but here I am.” She readjusted her glasses, looking at him curiously — maybe more knowingly.
“Is something wrong? You’ve been pretty quiet today.”
“Nah. Just tired today,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was an unconvincing beat of silence, before she unfolded her arms.
“…Well, I hope you feel more energetic soon.” Miles just nodded, making his way to the door.
Gracias a Dios… (Thank God.) She was leaving him alone.
“Oh, and good job on the quiz — one of the highest in this class.” Miles bit back the fleeting warmth in his cheeks, digging his hands further into his pockets.
“Thanks.”
Sometimes it was hard to remember that he wasn’t the Prowler all the time. Right know, he was just a kid: a kid who listened to his uncle’s favourite tracks and lived in a box with his mom in the city he called home — a city that was falling apart day by day.
“Miles!” That kid. That’s who he was — Miles Morales. And you were just you, jogging right behind him.
Stealing a glance of your expression — and hopefully nothing more — he kept ahead of you as the two of you walked to the counsellors office. Neither of you had anything to say, but Miles had so much to think about. You agreed to do the fair with him; maybe he shouldn’t have asked — he wasn’t here to make friends, after all. But you were here now, and he didn’t hesitate when he knocked on the door to the counsellors office.
“Come in!”
There was a screech of chairs as you two sat opposite the guidance counsellor, who was tapping away at her keyboard as usual. Miles’ eyes met yours for a brief second, and when you gave him a smile, he spent so long debating on whether or not to return it with his own that Ms. Weber had already placed a stack of freshly-printed papers on her desk.
“Firstly, you’re going to have to post these around school.” Miles looked at the obnoxiously modern and colourful posters, with “FRESHMAN CAREERS FAIR” in a dull font that was meant to look modern. He could probably make a better version himself, but he’d rather not spend any more time on the fair than he had to.
“I have a question,” you interrupted, straining to try and be polite. “Is this something I can put on my college application?”
“I’d assume so, since your friend is doing it for his,” Ms. Weber replied, glancing unassumingly at Miles through her red-framed glasses.
Like I wasn’t forced to. But you weren’t forced to. You chose to do this — for your… college application. Right.
“Okay, got it.” You nodded, letting Weber continue.
“Secondly, there’s a list of start-ups that will be here on the day. You should familiarise yourselves with them — you could find a useful connection.” Weber put a white piece of paper with some writing on top of the stack of posters.
“The ones that are highlighted are places we haven’t contacted yet.” There were only a few different businesses marked in yellow, one of which had “OSCORP” written next to it.
“Oscorp?” You seemed to notice too. Miles could only narrow his eyes.
“Their junior apprenticeship program starts soon” Weber explained, looking at Miles for a moment. “Maybe you should apply — especially you, Morales.”
Like Miles would ever work for Oscorp. They were the reason that his mom’s hospital was so underfunded. Unfortunately for him, he was supposed to pay them a visit anyway, regardless of how much he wanted to get into that tech school out of state.
“The fair’s going to be the Tuesday after winter break. Don’t forget.” She was looking more at Miles than you.
“Got it… Thank you, Ms…?” you trailed off, giving her a hopeful look.
She tapped sharply at the nameplate propped up on her desk. “Weber.”
“Ms. Weber,” you mirrored, nodding again and offering an awkward smile. “Thank you — we’ll try our best.
The two of you stepped out of the office, glancing at each other for a moment too long as you made it a couple of metres from the door.
“So uh…” you started. “Could I get your number?” …Huh?!
“Uh, I mean, like, so we can stay in contact,” you backtracked, trying not to grimace. “I mean, in case we need to talk over winter break.” He almost mirrored your grimace before nodding.
“Yeah, here.” Miles handed you his phone, careful to avoid brushing your hand this time before taking yours. He typed in his number, and then “Miles M.”
When he got his phone back, all you’d put in was your number. Without thinking, he typed in four letters: Pana. He slipped his phone in his pocket before he could question himself.
An extra class on Friday — with his pana. Miles could only rub his temples at the thought.
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This whole school thing had gone farther than he’d hoped.
“As you exit, please be careful of the gap between the platform and the—”
Miles held back a grunt as people shoved past to leave the train carriage, eyes searching for you as he was practically being bounced around. If it wasn’t for Mr. Wellston’s useless rambling, he wouldn’t be going home on a Friday during rush hour, let alone on the last day before winter break.
“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.”
The top of your backpack peeked out and just as quickly disappeared as someone in office wear, and an enormous jacket, ploughed through right before the doors closed; he could hear your stumble.
“Cabrón… (Asshole…)” Miles muttered under his breath.
Truthfully, he’d passed his stop ages ago, but he wasn’t about to let you go home alone this late. He hadn’t even been this far down the line before, but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Every night since you two went to the counsellor’s office, he’d been up, slinking through Brooklyn in his Prowler suit. People like you wouldn’t know, of course, but both Miles and his Uncle were picking up on things. With those dusty old police reports, the slew of missing people didn’t seem like much of a coincidence — and Miles didn’t think this “class” was one either.
In fact, Wellston himself didn’t seem like someone who was right to teach AP Calc. He certainly didn’t seem like the teacher type, and apart from that first class Miles had attended, all he really gave at this point were packs to do. And in that extra class of his, it was the exact same thing — except for that fact that he seemed to do everything to keep the two of you there.
“Are you sure you get it?” — “How did you get that number?” — “Where’s your calculator, Morales?”. Miles got you two out of there as fast as possible. At one point, he’d even written answers on your worksheet while Wellston wasn’t paying attention.
It was a hunch at most, but he’d always take his dad’s advice in stride, no matter how often he used to say it.
“Trust your gut, Miles.”
He wasn’t being over-protective, he was being cautious—
“What’s your problem, man?” Miles’ core tensed — like he’d done when training. He looked over to see you, and a total stranger.
“You got a place to be, huh? Can’t look where you’re goin’?”
Miles squeezed through a blockade of people to see you just standing there, unable to reply as a man blew up at you for seemingly no reason. The man’s words were getting progressively worse, his voice louder and his face so close to yours it made Miles cringe. The man’s eyes seemed to bulge out, but he wasn’t looking at you — or anything, really. He was clearly on drugs.
Miles was meant to get groceries for his mom. He kissed his teeth at the memory. Damn Wellston — and this guy.
The carriage was pretty much empty, being at the last few stops. Of course nobody cared when it came to stuff like this. Miles watched the veins in the man’s neck tighten, and his teeth were gritted together so hard it hurt to look at. He stopped his fist from clenching — he’d rather not start a fight with a junkie.
“Oy.” He put his hand on your shoulder, avoiding the man’s eyes. “Let’s get off here.”
“Wh—”
“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.” You two were out in about a second before the doors shut between you and the man, now violently knocking against the glass.
Holding onto your jacket, Miles kept you from falling as the train zipped past, the junkie long gone. He let out a sigh, eyes squeezing shut. This train station was stupidly bright.
“What was that for?” you asked, brows knitting together. “We could’ve just, I dunno, walked to a different carriage.”
“You serious?”
“The next train’s in…” Both of your eyes went to the screen, and you frowned. “20 minutes, Miles.”
“Well you would’ve had exactly zero minutes if that guy tried something.”
“Okay, that’s too far. There were other people—”
“They wouldn’t have done shit.” His annoyance only grew, and he couldn’t hold back when you were looking at him like that. “Where do you live? Cause it’s not Brooklyn — nobody gives a damn here.”
People were starting to look at you. “Are you gonna let go of my arm or what?”
Miles’ hand fell from your shoulder. He bit the inside of his cheek, his own heartbeat only muffled by the sound of the train approaching on the other platform.
“Do you really live that far?”
“Yes?” You said, almost incredulously. “Like, two stations away from here.”
“Then we’re walking.”
Your head snapped back to look at him. “Seriously?”
“You want me to leave you here?”
It came out more like a threat than a question. The realisation made Miles’ eye twitch, but that only served to make him look more pissed.
“Go on,” you replied, your expression lacking any conviction.
“Cabezón…” he muttered to himself, before turning to walk to the exit.
“What was that?”
Miles kept walking, and the sound of your footsteps a couple seconds later made him breath a sigh of relief. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he was almost certain someone was watching you back there.
When you both got to the gates, he waited before pulling you through the emergency exit with him. Despite your protest, you followed him through it, blending into the crowd of people leaving and entering the station. Metro cards were a waste of money anyway.
It was a long, silent and somewhat unsettling walk. Miles had been through every corner of Brooklyn, and right here was about where he’d start looking behind his back, even as the Prowler. For some reason, you just had to live a light year away from school and in one of the worst neighbourhoods in this damned concrete jungle.
Despite the regret building in his stomach from how he’d talked to you, he was forcing more rational concerns into his head: the turns you were taking, the people they passed, how close he should stay to you. All of it was habitual at this point, but he couldn’t risk being caught off-guard, especially when every adult man you passed was starting to look a bit too much like Wellston. If you were closer, maybe he could’ve kept an arm around you, or something. Good thing his mom wasn’t here to beat his ass for thinking like an idiot.
Trying not to imagine his mom’s voice, Miles kept just a few inches behind you, right until you reached the front door.
“…Thanks.” He couldn’t read your expression — when was the last time he overthought something?
“Don’t worry about it.”
There was another beat of silence, interrupted only by the “beep!” of your electronic key fob at the door.
“See you.” Your voice echoed through the hall, followed by footsteps as the door slowly shut in front of him. “Be safe.”
Like he needed to be told that. “…You too.”
Miles lingered by the door, looking at you for a moment longer before he forced himself to turn away. Almost immediately after, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket — Uncle Aaron.
42nd street
Special delivery for your ma
A supply interception — his mom’s hospital was probably short by now. Miles squeezed his eyes shut, blinking away the exhaustion before replying.
omw Delivered
His day hadn’t ended yet — not by a long shot. The Prowler was always on the clock.
pana = casual term used to refer to friends, means "buddy" or "pal" (used in puerto rico, venezuela etc)
cabezón = means "stubborn" or "big-headed"
from here on out it's just straight up drafting cause i wrote part 1 and 2 ages ago but i don't have anything for part 3 and 4 so !!!!
upload schedule if you didn't know is gonna be: this series one week and then a random one shot the next week (so hopefully ill post part 3 in around 2 weeks? im DROWNING in school work atm so don't hope too hard...) anyways have a good one ^^
reblogs appreciated as always <3 go back to the series masterlist here or go to my atsv masterlist here!
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gothic-thoughts · 9 months ago
Text
Slow on the Internet
(idek how i found this pic of him but im SO glad this shit exists😭)
(AGED UP) Yuji Itadori x Black Fem Reader Fluff
Streamer!Yuuji, Shy!Reader, RoommateAU, Friends2Lovers
CW: oblivious Yuuji 😭😭, yuuji talking to his twitch chat, reader speaks some Japanese 🤝🏾 Yuuji speaks some English, not proofread
Word Count: 1701
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any Japanese is written in Romaji and confirmed by DeepL
It was 10 pm, Itadori was sitting in his gaming headphones on his stylish armchair, playing a popular game while Spotify was quietly playing a mellow song in the background.
"Guys, the stream's gonna be a little quiet, I don't want to wake my roommate."
Itadori tried not to make too much noise, talking quietly to his audience.
- Which one?
- Is it (Y/n)??
- Megumi or the American girl you brought on a while ago?
- The girl??
 "Yes, I’m talking about (Y/n). Megumi's out for the night. Uh, for those new to stream, a couple streams ago..." Yuuji laughs into his hand, "Like 3 streams ago, I forced my roommate, (Y/n), to make a... commentary vid with me."
- You should force her back fr 👀👀
- Bring her back, yall were cute
- You guys chemistry was adorable, u sure she's just a roomie??👀👀
He laughed at the comments, a little embarrassed at the idea of having chemistry with his roommate, but it was sweet of them to think that. He shook his head and laughed, trying to brush it off as a friendly relationship.
"Shut up, it’s a normal amount of chemistry! I like to think we have a cool dynamic.”
- UR TELLING ME U DON'T LIKE HER??
- denial isn’t healthy, Itadori
- but does she want to STAY ur friend??
It was flattering how invested they were in a relationship between him and (Y/n). He wasn't sure what his chat was implying, surely they were teasing him. There was a little part of him that liked and even agreed with his chat's implications. He was glad they were taking so much interest in his friendship with (Y/n). It was sweet.
"I- what are you guys saying?" He laughed nervously, his cheeks red.
- THAT SHE LIKES U DUH
- U LIKE EACH OTHER??
- ITADORI UR FUMBLING
"You really think my roommate likes me? Really?"
- YES
- The only she could make it more obvious was if she kissed you like r u srs 😭😭
- Does she take or borrow ur stuff a bunch?
"Oh yeah, all the time." He laughed, nodding. "Like she'll use my body soap and won’t give it back unless I ask. Sometimes she'll even just take my clothes and leave them somewhere in her heya (room); sore wa wakaranai (I don't get that)."
- Bro cuz she likes u
- YUUJI WHAT
- She got it bad too. Both of u do
- AND U FRIENDZONED HER??
His heart was beginning to race a little as his chat spoke and said all these things. He laughed nervously, but he didn't deny any of their comments. He wondered if all these things actually were happening because she did have feelings for him.
"No, no I didn't... did I?"
- How do u curve a goddess BY ACCIDENT?
- Rejecting someone by accident is crazy
- She is fine asf lowkey
He shivered a little as his chat continued, making him begin to feel a little bad for keeping his feelings to himself and even stupid when realizing that he wasn’t reading her feelings correctly.
"I don't know, I mean.... it never crossed my mind that she really liked me. Maybe... but she just did small things."
He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to say. "I didn’t think she’d like me, I thought she was just doing it cuz she’s still fairly new to Japan. Aside from the fact that she’s out of my league."
- is it because she's older than you?
- I dont even think ur age gap is even that big smh
- how old is she anyway? U look about the same age
- Ik ur 21 but how old is (Y/n)?
"How old? She's 23, but still..."
He rubbed the back of his neck, his face red. He just didn't know what to say so he just laughed nervously. They kept describing her and it made him feel bad, thinking that he had been doing this to her, hopefully she still liked him so he could try again.
- ONLY 2 YEARS AND U STRESSIN BOUT AN AGE GAP???
- If you don't GO CONFESS LIKE AN ADULT😭😭
- Ur both young adults so age is just a number fr
- Yuuji, don't piss me off 🙄😤
Itadori couldn't help but laugh the more he read, unable to deny the comments that his chat was making. It felt like his chat had read his mind.  
"Okay okay, wakattyo (i get it)! She likes me, I might like her, age isn't an issue. What am I supposed to do though?"
- Talk to her wat 😭😭
- UH TALK TO HER??
- Ask her out duh.
He laughed and read the comments. His chat was making it so simple.
"Come on guys, it can't be that simple. I live with her! What if she doesn't feel the same and things end up being awkward?"
Itadori jumps out of his chair, his heart beating out of his chest when he hears the only other person in the house knock on his bedroom door. Shit. Of course. He then realized he had his stream on the whole time so she definitely heard everything. He got up and walked over to his door. He cracked open the door, peeking through with his cheeks still red.
“Hey, Yuu.”
"Hey... did you hear nandemo (anything)?"
"Hear what?" (Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows, "You on the phone?”
He paused and smiled, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was just making sure I wasn’t being too, um, loud. I thought you were asleep.”
“I was, but I woke up wanting something sweet. I'm running to the konbini, nani ka hoshi mono wa?"
“Yeah, sure.” He paused, thinking of something, "Can you get me some ichigo pocky?"
“Honto ni? I was gonna get the same thing.”
He laughed, her answer surprised him. "Really?"
“Yea. Alright, I'll be right back."
He smiles, waiting for her to come back. He had so many thoughts, so much to process about the stuff his chat said and his own feelings for her. He waited for her to come back with the strawberry pocky.
- Well???
- Did she seem to like u??
- What she say?
“There's really no reason for me not to like her, ya know? I'm starting to think I like her back, really like her, she’s so sweet." He rubbed his neck, feeling guilty, "You guys were right, I've been rejecting her by accident. When she gets back, I want to tell her."
- YAAY
- LETSSGOOO
- THATS MY BOY
- GAMER BF + SHY GF FTW
The comments made him smile even brighter. The chat called her his girlfriend, but he didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He could only hope she'd respond positively.
"Shut up guys, I'm not her boyfriend.... well, yet hopefully."
20 minutes later, she walks into his room with snacks and a few drinks in a bag. He didn't expect her to come back so fast but it made him grateful. He was smiling wide as he took off his headphones and paused his game again, realizing how cute she was when she was just being herself. (Y/n) pauses in his doorway with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.
“Are--” She lowered her voice, “Are you streaming?”
"Uh, heh yeah. Uh, my chat they made me see something. It has to do with you."
“Oh god...” She chuckles and waves shyly at the camera, walking over, “They don't want me on another stream, do they?”
His chat was blowing up with comments, excited at the appearance of his roommate again. "Shut up guys, I swear. It wasn't planned. Anyway, you don't have to come near the camera.”
“I don’t, good; I was freaking out already.” She laughs.
“Do you mind if I keep streaming while we talk?"
“Uh... sure, why?” She hands him a soda and the boxes of pocky then backs out of the camera, “You making me nervous~”
"Yeah, sorry. They've really grown to like you, so they're excited to see you again."
“I was only in one stream!”
"I know, I know, but they really liked you. So every time you show up again, they get really excited because they love seeing more of you."
“I didn’t know I had fans; is that what you wanted to tell me?”
He sighed, "No, it's not. There's something else."
“Mkay...?”
"Alright.” He takes a deep breath and stands, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself, “So chat made me realize that I’m a biggest idiot in the world. I... I like you, (Y/n).”
“You're...” (Y/n) chuckles uncomfortably, “You’re joking? Kore wa jyooku desu ka?”
"No, no. I mean it. They helped me realize that you liked me so I wanted to tell you that.”
“But I thought you didn't like me.”
"Yeah, well, I thought I didn't, I realized it after they pointed out how we treat each other. And they were right.”
“So you were rejecting me... by accident?!”
“I just thought you'd stick around me cuz you’re still a little new to Japan!"
“Yuuji, I've lived here for like 5 months now!”
“Yeah, but I thought, like... I don’t know!”
“God, you be so clueless sometimes.” She sighs deeply, “Since I know now, finish your stream and we can eat the snacks and maybe, uh, eiga o miru?"
Itadori froze. “Movie? You... want to watch a movie with me?"
“Seems like the only thing to do this late at night," She chuckles, "Everything but the convenience store is closed this late."
"Hell yeah, I’d love to!”
(Y/n) laughs, “Mkay, lemme know when you’re done.”
(Y/n) leaves his room with the bag of her sweets and closes the door. Yuuji sits back down in his chair with a wide smile on his face as he starts playing his game again. He was so focused on finishing it for his stream and going to watch the movie that he wasn’t reading the chat’s confused and riled comments. He finally looked over at them and laughed, pausing the game:
- ITADORI IF U DON'T END THE STREAM
- GO BRO
- END STREAM
- STREAM TMR TF
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(a/n): unfortunately not sponsored by strawberry pocky cuz 🤤🤤
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schemmentis · 8 months ago
Text
Revelation
Anon asked: Prompt: With Jacob living with Melissa, he sees how gay she is around reader and tries to open her eyes for it.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.3k
Pt. 2
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“So…” Jacob drawls as he brings the last of the dirty dishes in from the living room. “When are we gonna talk about it? Because I kinda can't pretend I'm not seeing what I'm seeing at this point.”
“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Melissa questions. A stern look at him for his not forthright way of speaking. “Talk about what, kid?”
“Y'know…Y/N.”
“What about Y/N?” Melissa rephrases her original question as she takes a step away from her sink. A hand on her hip as she outright glares at Jacob now. Irritated at his still beating around the actual topic, and now that he's bringing you into it too.
You were the newest member of their little Abbott crew. Still, you had been around long enough that they all knew you fairly well. Melissa, arguably, the most of all of them. Though she wasn't necessarily the warmest person; she certainly was more so than when you had first met her.
You were now a regular on the couch for morning news, at Mel and Barb's table for lunch, and the game nights the red head sometimes hosted. The crew, especially Janine, had wanted it to be held more often. Melissa maintained once a month was more than enough to invite them all into her space after school hours.
She stands even more firm on that stance now that Jacob is staying with her. She's grown more fond of him in their short time so far as roommates. He'd surprised her on more than one occasion for some of the things they had in common. The sharing of Real HouseWives goes a long way just by itself. Still, she wasn't about to invite anyone in any further.
Except, when she wasn't paying attention she already had. You had taken the spot right behind Barbara of being her favorite. Some days, you surpassed her work wife too.
She raises an eyebrow when Jacob still stands across from her in the kitchen. Game night had just ended and he was kindly helping clean up afterward. Then he had to ruin Melissa's mood by implying something about you. She still didn't understand what the younger man was trying to get at as he stumbled over the start of his next sentence beneath her glare. She knew, though, if it was anything bad about you she was prepared to make it however long they stayed sharing a living space hell for him. Even if she did like him.
“Would you just spit it out?”
“How much you like Y/N, is what I was trying to say. I didn't realize how close you two were until now.”
Melissa scoffs. This is what he had gotten her worked up over? She tugs the dish towel slung over her shoulder off to toss it onto Jacob's. “You dry.” She mutters, turning back to her sink to begin washing the used dishes.
“Of course I like Y/N. I don't see what the big deal is.” Melissa says after a moment of washing in silence.
“I knew you always picked her to team up with on game nights, obviously.” Jacob says as he dries the plate she's handed him. “And how you guys are at school and all. I just never noticed the other stuff until staying here.”
“What other stuff, Hill?”
Jacob's brow furrows, realizing Melissa really doesn't see it. “You talk to her every night on the phone.” He says, gently setting the plate into the dish rack before taking the bowl she's holding out to him. “Even though it's only been a few hours since you saw her last.”
“So?”
“I mean, do you do that with Barbara?”
“No, why would I? I'll talk to her in the mornin’ or Monday, whatever. Whenever we're at school next. Unless somethin’ bad's happened.”
“Right…” Jacob trails off, trying to navigate the conversation carefully. Part of him worries he's reading too much into things. The other part is worried he's already irritated the redhead just by starting this conversation and if he is right it's clearly going to be a revelation for Melissa.
He clears his throat, trying another approach. “Do you and, uh, Barbara do anything on the weekends?”
Melissa gives him a side eyed look. A little bit like he's dumb for asking. At least, he's sort of used to that one from her. “No. She's got church and Gerald.” She says like that's obvious and he should know that.
Which, he does know. He shifts the piece of silverware he's drying to the dish rack. “Last weekend you went to the movies with Y/N.”
“Yeah, she wanted to see Barbie. Again. She insisted it's different at the theater.”
“The weekend before that you went to the farmer's market together.”
“I'm not gonna pass up fresh produce, especially the peppers. I can use those in plenty of dishes and you get twice as much than at the supermarket. Besides, Y/N is always looking for fresh, local honey. New vendors, too. If somebody new is at one of the local markets then she's gotta go check it out.”
Silently, Jacob is begging Melissa to get his point but he can see she really isn't.
“You don't think it's…different with Y/N?”
“It's different with all youse.” Melissa answers as she shoves the last cleaned plate into Jacob's hands, frustrated at his prodding. “I ain't with you like I am with Barb and I'm not with Barb like I am with Y/N. What's it matter?”
“It doesn't.” Jacob answers quickly. At least, it doesn't in the way he can tell his questions are beginning to stress Melissa out. He certainly isn't judging, or trying to.
He thought Melissa at least had an idea of the different way her relationship with Y/N was when he first brought it up. He thought he had just caught onto something that was being kept private. Now, though, it's clear to him that Melissa hasn't even considered that relationship to this level.
“I just noticed you guys…spend a lot of time together is all. I thought…” Jacob stops himself from finishing his thought. He doesn't know how Melissa will take it now.
“You thought what?” Melissa presses, wiping down the kitchen counter. She doesn't turn to him but Jacob can hear the glare in her tone.
“I thought you guys were…seeing where things were going.” Jacob hedges.
“What's that even ‘spose to mean?”
“I thought you were dating and just not ready to tell everyone yet.” Jacob finally says plainly.
“Dating?” Melissa echoes, turning back to face Jacob now. In half a second, she gauges his seriousness. He means it. “You thought me and Y/N were, are, dating?”
Jacob shrugs helplessly. “Yeah. You two are just kind of…always together.”
“Well. We’re not.” Melissa says sternly.
Jacob nods. “I get that now. I won't just…assume next time?” He hesitantly promises, mustering a smile he hopes will disarm Melissa's demeanor. “For what it's worth, you guys would be good together, though.” He adds, making his way out of the kitchen to put away monopoly still left out on the coffee table.
Melissa stares after Jacob. He's disappeared from sight but her eyes remain on the space he had stood in before. A knee-jerk part of her says it's ridiculous he even thought the two of you were dating. A larger part acknowledges how he could have thought it.
She takes a deep breath, turning back to the sink. She lets the dirty dish water from the sink. She wipes the faucet and edges before wiping down the metal of the sink once the water’s drained. She drapes the dishrag over the metal divider between the two basins.
Her hands brace against the edge of the sink. A dim metal thunk when her palms hit it with small force. “Shit.” She’s falling for you.
265 notes · View notes
justmeinadaze · 1 month ago
Text
Nothing's Gonna Change My World (Steddie X You) (Regency Era Universe)
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AN: This is my first time writing for an era like this so bare with me. I think I could have done better with the details but alas! Please enjoy :)
Warnings: Steddie X Fem Y/N, In universe Regency Era Lords Steddie X Lady Fem Y/N, SMUT and FLUFF, established friendship in alternate universe, Friends to Lovers
ANGST, we learn more about these experimentees, both men talk about their parents and Eddie elaborates a bit more on how Steve treated him in school. Y/N talks a bit more about her family and status. At the end, she talks a bit more about her sister who has died. In the alternative universe, Steve's father is a dick who feels like he isn't measuring up. Calls Eddie and Y/N names (bastard & whore). Reader has a run in with someone who physically hurts her (no elaborate; just the after math), guys defend her.
Word Count: 5335
Series here/ Donate to Me <3
“You were definitely one of the lucky ones.”, the doctor exhales as he continues to make notes without looking your way. “A lot of the participants were either injured or experienced something they’d rather forget.”
Remaining silent, you press your lips together as you nod just wanting this to be over so you can go have a cigarette (and check on Eddie).
“Was there anything that stood out? People you knew or anything like that?”
“Uh, no. A group kidnapped me and wanted to use me for leverage. I was rescued and then went back to a compound where I was talking with people till I woke up. I did have memories of my sister still dying. Obviously not in the same way.”
“Huh.”, the doctor hummed as he made notes. 
“What?”
“It’s just interesting to have two participants experience a kidnapping. Another participant said he saved someone from being taken. Did you see Mr. Steve Harrington there?”
“No, I didn’t.”, you growled, annoyed at the man’s stupidity. 
“Ok. It’s not that outlandish in an environment like that so I’m not too concerned about it.”
“If we had seen each other would it be? Something to be concerned about I mean.”
“Hmmm… not really. It would be interesting to dissect, metaphorically of course. To meet someone you’ve only met through this avenue in an alternate reality, I mean, that would be so fascinating.”
“What if you saw them in more than one?”
The doctor chuckles as he leans back in his seat. 
“Theoretically that’s impossible but, if we’re speaking in theory, to meet the same someone in all different universes including this one? That sounds more metaphysical…like fate.”
“If that’s true…then it implies my sister was meant to die…no matter what universe we both lived in.”
Your voice comes out barely above a whisper causing the doctor to scan you over as he says your name but you promptly ignore him, rising to your feet as you power walk out of the room. 
While walking down the hallway, you hear people still sniffling as they continue to regale people with stories of the other universe and how terrified they were about moving forward. You were so focused on the sounds of sobs; you didn’t even notice you passed by Steve who leaned out of his bedroom when he noticed you walk by and followed quietly behind you. 
Eddie’s door was open but when you poked your head inside you realized he was asleep and still looked incredibly pained. As you tiptoed to his bedside, you noticed a little bruise starting to form where the nurse must have given him a shot to help calm him so he could rest. The other boy watches you with amusement as your sad eyes take in the man in front of you before you turn to the wall behind you, tapping your fingers gently against the light illuminated panel, and waiting for only a moment before a small door opens providing you with whatever it is you had purchased. 
Sitting beside him, you carefully opened the tube you bought, squirting a bit of gel on your palm and rubbing it along his purple wound.
“What’s that?”, Steve murmurs as your eyes flick his way. “That you’re putting on him.”
“Healing gel for bruises.”, you respond while tossing him the bottle so he can see. “That brand is good at soothing swelling and aches. Definitely needed some of it a time or two.”
When you giggle, he can’t help but smile at the sight.
“May I ask why? Why you’re doing that for him? You just…you seem a bit guarded.”, he clarified when you flashed him an annoyed look. 
“Yeah…Comes from years of bullshit. Plus…he was right. I’m terrified to let people in because something always happens. My sister was always there for me through the bad stuff but when I lost her… I just thought it was best to keep people at bay.”
“I can understand that.”, he nods, smirking when your quark your eyebrow his way. “Just because I’m an asshole doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”, Steve laughs. “I’m, um, sorry if I’ve come on to strong with my personality or been rude… It’s just my defense, you know?”
“I can understand that.”, you recite back making both your smiles grow. “I should go back to my room.”
Even as you say your words, your body doesn’t move. You know you should leave but something in your gut keeps tugging you towards the sleeping in man in front of you. He was in so much emotional pain and all you wanted to do was make it go away for him. 
Sighing, you curl up behind Eddie’s back, pressing your face into his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist.
***
When the long-haired boy woke up the following morning, he was completely confused when he felt a weight against his body until lifting the blanket and seeing a hand resting lazily against his stomach. 
As carefully as he could, he rolled over coming face to face with your sleeping frame. He should have been confused or annoyed even that you just crawled into his bed but for reasons he couldn’t explain he felt like this was completely normal. Like he had spent the last few years waking up to you already. 
Eddie wondered if maybe the experiment was leaving imprints him as the memories stayed. In the first universe, he hadn’t met you yet but he felt incredibly comfortable with you as that version of himself had already begun hoping for a long future with you by their side. In the second, he and Steve had been with you for a while and even now he could picture some of that Eddie’s memories as if they were his own. 
Memories of meeting you and being skeptical as his friend insisted on bringing you back home. Taking you out to the field near the high school to practice shooting with you and allowing you to try his sniper rifle which he had conveyed to never let anyone before you do. The immediate fear he felt when you didn’t come back and the anger that followed when he found out someone took you. 
As he reached out to caress your cheek, those protective feelings inside him increased and he wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. 
The current reality came rushing back as his eyes glanced at the discounted jewelry on his fingers. He was lower class and would always be labeled that way. Whatever class you were didn’t matter because even he knew he was at the bottom of the society rung.
After crawling over you out of bed, he quietly covered you back up and headed to the bathroom to get ready for breakfast. 
***
“He’s not eating with you?”, you ask as you take a seat in front of Steve and glance towards Eddie who was nibbling on his lunch by the wall.
“Uh, no, not today and I kind of understand why. If I saw what he did I would want to keep to myself to.”
“Is…are your parents…how they are in the other realities?”
The man pauses for a moment before his eyes flick up to meet yours. 
“Yeah, they are especially my father. I’ve been conditioned to take over his company since birth.”
“Conditioned?”
“Yup. Luckily my dad got a boy on his first try with my mom so…yay me.”, he sasses making you smirk as you exhale at the heaviness behind his words. “What about you? What are your parents like?”
“My parents and I haven’t spoken in a while. I, um, after my sister died…it was like the glue that held us together melted.”
“I’m assuming they’re assholes then?”
“What are we talking about so intensely?”, Eddie asks as he throws his body down next to Steve and continues to eat. 
“Parents.”
“Oh that’s a fun topic.”
“Y/N was about to tell me more about hers.”
They both stare at you with wide, focused eyes as they wait for you to go on and on impulse you cross your arms as your wall begins to go up. 
“Uh, yeah, you can say they are assholes. My father is a judge and my mom is a lawyer. Like you said, my great grandfather has the school named after him because he did a lot within congress. Careers of that degree kind of run in the family so I’m…noted as the failure…”
“You’re not a failure.”, Steve tries to comfort as your eyes become glassy before you hastily blink any tears away. 
“I also don’t believe in my families class system so that’s a point against me.”
“Not really anything you can do about it though, right sweetheart?”, Eddie sighs. “The Harrington’s basically swear by it.”
The other man exhales as his head hangs.
“I was raised to believe that the higher class…were superior…”
“Yeah. To push low level people like me and my uncle aside. Part of the reason our school allowed people like me in was to add to the arrogance of the upper class so they could push us around.”
“I never hurt you, Eddie.”
“Physically, no.” 
At that, Steve’s head jerks towards the boy beside him as anger and shame fills his heart. 
“I’m sorry, Munson.”
As you watch their exchange, you can’t help but feel the pain as well from your seat across from them. This is why you and Kallie hated the class system. From the videos you saw, your great grandfather touted it as a way of motivation and peace. 
“So the higher classes feel safer and the lower classes can aspire for greater.”
All it did was cause pain and no one did anything to counter or abolish it. It was so engrained in society that it was just common at this point but no one in the upper class did anything that made them better people. They continually belittled anyone beneath them and made sure to remind them there was no point in “aspiring for greatness” because this is where they belonged; under them.
Maybe Kallie could have made a difference…
“It’s ok—”
“It’s not. I’d…like to start over…maybe. If we can.” Steve’s hand hovers in the air as Eddie’s beautiful eyes take in the gesture with a glimmer of hope reflected behind them. 
“Alright, Harrington.”, the man smirks as he smacks his palm into his and shakes it making you grin their way.
***
The following morning, Steve woke up in chair inside Eddie’s room with you both asleep in the long-haired boy’s bed and him sitting up against the wall while his palm rested on your bicep as your head slept comforting on his lap. 
You three had spent the evening together getting little tidbits about each other and just getting to know the other more. 
As you spoke, he couldn’t help but study you as your lips moved and your eyes focused as you listened to one of them speak. It was in his nature as an upper-class businessman’s son. He was taught from an early age to read body language and listen to inflections in words which he always found amusing because his father did none of that. 
Bill Harrington did everything with selfish motivation and if someone questioned him or seemed to be disloyal, he attacked whether the person was indeed being nefarious or not. 
In school growing up, Steve was the same but a bit more calculated. He punished people for being weak and quite frankly never even noticed they were always the lower-class student. He should have been more observant and empathetic. He just wanted to belong. 
Lord knows his parents never made him feel wanted. 
Steve couldn’t help but wonder how he would have treated you had you grown up together. He would like to think he would have been kind but the fact that he wasn’t sure broke his heart. Maybe you would have made him want to be a better man. 
He felt that in the last universe he was in; that strong need to be better. The memories that still lingered had him wanting to continue that philosophy. He desperately wanted to make the world better for you and Eddie but the current version of himself was struggling.
He didn’t know how to begin and definitely didn’t want to cross a line. 
Truth of the matter was…he was scared…
***
“What do you think? Three for three?”, Eddie jokes as you guys head towards the pods for you next session. 
“I’m not sure. It does comfort me though…to know you both might be there. I aways get nervous before hand at what we might see.”
“Yeah. We understand the feeling.”, Steve sighs under his breath before giving you both a soft smile as you all separate to go to your areas.
“Alright Miss Y/L/N, here’s your shot…good. And I must insist that when you wake up, please remain in the vessel so we can do our jobs.”
“No promises.”
The nurse narrows her eyes at you as the door slowly slides closed. 
“Dropping down in 3…2…1…”
#########################
“I will not tolerate this insolence anymore!”, the man screams on the other side of the door causing you and Edward’s eyes to lock from your places as you continue to listen in. 
You had known Eddie and Steve since you all were children and it was killing you to hear the latter man’s father scream at him in such a manner. 
Steven did everything he could to appease his parents including taking a woman he deemed boring to a dinner date in an environment he detested. He went with his dad on business ventures overseas to learn more about a company he did not want to inherit, sending you both long winded letters about how drab the whole affair was and how his father belittled him the entire ship ride back home. 
All he wanted to do was spend time with his two best friends like he had always done. 
“You need to get your act together, son. I won’t be here forever to keep you afloat. You can’t make a living running around with the bastard Munson and that whore Y/L/N.”
Your hand reached out to take the boys beside you as he flashed you a small smile and delicately kissed the back of it. 
“Don’t call her that.”, Steven growled. “They are my friends.”
“Pfft. Then explain to me why she’s been seen with every Duke and Lord in the county?!”
“Her father wants her to settle down and marry—”
“She needs to! She’s way past her prime!”
Eddie snickers as you lift your eyebrows as if to silently agree with your friend’s father.
“AND Edward is a respectable gentleman—”
“Whose father ISN’T in the prison for thieving jewelry from castles like ours?”
“That doesn’t make him a bastard.”, Steve whispered under his breath causing his father to stomp forward and hit his son hard in the cheek. 
“It’s too bad you don’t have this kind of fight in you when it comes to a work ethic.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m fighting for something I care about.”, his son spits back before turning and powerwalking out the door running into you both as you lean nonchalantly against the opposite wall. “Oh, that’s inconspicuous.”
You giggle as you run to keep up with him as he continues walking down the hall, your olive-green gown flowing behind you as you do. 
“Are you alright?”
“I’ll survive.”, he replies a bit curtly before pausing at a set of double doors and grabbing your bicep. “Why don’t we skip this affair and spend some time in the library.”
“Steve.”, you smile as you reach up to move some of his loose hair away from his face. “We all got dressed up to come to your father’s idiotic dance. The least we could do is make an appearance.”
“I think she just wants to impress William.”, Eddie teases making you blush as you reach forward and lightly punch his arm making little to no impact against his black suit jacket he looked incredibly handsome in. 
“Look, your father may be a rude but he’s right.”, you shrug. “If I don’t get married soon—”
Steve’s soft palm extended towards you to cup your face as his thumb slid across your lips to silence you. Touches like this were not abnormal and even you had flirted with the idea of taking your friendship further but shame overtook you when you realized you cared about both men. 
You could care less about your parent’s approval or how society would view you. They did that already with the many men who tried to court you but you did care about them. Eddie was already demeaned for being “new money” since his family didn’t come from wealth. Add in the fact that he rarely behaved or dressed in a manner they found suitable but all that mattered to you was his kind demeanor and how he always made you smile. 
Steve was constantly judged by high society because he struggled to follow the “proper etiquette” of someone in his status. He just wanted to live his life the way he wanted and you encouraged that. He was incredibly smart and protective which is something you enjoyed on late nights when he would sneak into your room and you two would lay together talking about the future. 
A relationship with one of them let alone two would bring undo trouble their way and you loved them too much to allow that. 
“Fuck my father, honey. All that matters is that you’re happy.”
Grinning, you loop your arm through his and gesture towards Edward so you can do the same with him. 
“As long as I’m with my two best friends, I’m happy.”
***
“What do you think? Has she finally found the one?”, Eddie asks as he passes his friend the bottle of scotch they stole from one of his father’s many offices. 
“Please…William Hargrove isn’t the kind to settle down but…who knows. She’s an amazing woman.”
“Yeah she is.”
This was one of Steve’s favorite spots in his large family estate, the garden out back. Since he met you two, he would bring you out by the fountain where you would play games and make him laugh. As you three grew, it because a place to gossip and talk about anything that came to mind. You had made a plan to meet here within one hour’s time so the gentleman could be seen before disappearing but you were late which was making your long-haired friend nervous. 
“You don’t think something happened right?”
“I’m not sure but if it’s something good I know she’d kill us for interrupting.” As Steve chuckles, Eddie can’t help but force a smile before letting out a long-winded sigh. “I know…”
“Maybe we should finally tell her how we feel…say something…”
“Say what?”, you asked with a happy sounding high pitched tone appearing in front of them.
“What took you so long? Talking with William?”
“Oh, yes, I was but he is just so intellectually draining.”, you tease, mimicking your voice to sound like Steve’s parents. 
“Your hair is pulled back differently. Some of the strands are loose.”, Eddie notices as he rises to his feet but at the action however you take a step backward. “Where did you get that shawl?”
“Oh, um, I stole it from Lady Bradberry. That’s what she gets for always calling me a harlot.”
As you chuckle, your eyes become glassy as your voice cracks. Both boys take a step forward and once again you back away. 
“Let’s, uh, let’s get out of here. We can go to my estate—”
“Let us see, Y/N.”
This time when Steve extends his hand out you don’t pull away, allowing him to slowly pull down the garment covering your shoulder exposing the slowly forming bruise.
“No, no.”, you scold as you watch their eyes cloud over in anger. “I took care of it, alright? William won’t be a concern anymore. Edward! Steven! No!”, you hiss as you try to pull on their arms to stop them as they begin stomping towards the castle. “No! I won’t let you ruin your reputations over me.”
Abruptly, Eddie turns around and cups your face in his palms as his lips passionately press to yours. You had tasted him before on many a lonely night but this felt different in the best possible way. 
“You don’t seem to understand, my lady. You…mean more to us than any reputation…”
This time you allow them to continue forward, following close behind as they reenter Steve’s home and make a beeline for the study where you had last been. To your surprise, William wasn’t far but to his surprise you weren’t back to reconsider his offer of becoming his mistress. 
Steve’s fist flew before any words were exchanged and your breath caught in your throat as you watched the men you cared for defend your honor. 
“Steven!”, his father shouted as he tried to pull his son off the unlucky man now bleeding on the floor. Friends of the Harringtons and Hargroves ran in to separate everyone but while everyone crowded around the man who had physically hurt you, your best friends backed away to make sure they were front of you, shielding you from everyone. 
“What is wrong with you, you imbecile!”, Mr. Harrington scolded as he pointed his finger towards Steve. “William is set to be married next month to Lady Cunningham. Everyone will be talking about this.”, he gestures towards the man’s bleeding face. 
“That filth put his hands on the woman I love.”
Your hopeful eyes widen at his words and to your relief Eddie doesn’t flitch or hiss at his friend. 
They both care about you to. 
Reaching out, your fingers cling to their formal jackets causing both men to stand up straighter. 
“I’m DONE with all this nonsense! You are no longer allowed to be friends with those two. End it now.”
“No.”
“EXCUSE ME!?”
“He said no.”, Eddie defended. “Y/N and I have known your son since we were children and thankfully he’s nothing you or that scum.”, he growls as he gestures towards William. 
“Get out of my home!”
“With pleasure.”
At Steve’s final words, they both grab your hands and power walk out the double doors into the garden. 
***
Your eyes follow them as they maneuver around the Munson bedroom; Steve roughly hurling off his jacket and Eddie doing the same before gathering some supplies in his lavatory. 
You three had spent many an intimate night here. The first time either of them kissed or touched you was on this floor or in the big comfy bed. You all made a vow that this would never be anything more but never elaborated on why. You knew your reasons but…
“Why didn’t you say anything before? About how you feel?”
Edward smirk salaciously as he kneeled in front of you and placed a cool rag with ice against your now prominent, purple bruise.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because of this.”, you gesture towards your other friend who was now facing you both with his hands on his hips. “Because I didn’t want to be the reason you both lost everything.”
“Sweetheart…”, Eddie cooed in a soothing tone. “You ARE everything.”
Smiling, you run your fingers through his hair as your lips tenderly kiss his till you feel a dip in the mattress beside you. 
“You’re not a…harlot or a whore…”, Steve conveys, wincing at the negative as if he’s disgusted to even say them. “I remember when we were children, your mother would let me sleep over when my father would scream at me and my own mother. You and Kallie always made me smile.”
As he turns to face you, the other man continues to kiss your neck as he reaches behind your back to unlace your gown. 
“I can’t picture my life with you, Y/N. I’d give up everything, my name, status, and reputation… just to have you here with us.”
Your palm caresses his cheek and in return he tilts down to bring his lips to yours. Soft kisses turn heated as they undress you and then themselves. 
“We can go anywhere we want to.”, Eddie breathes into your ear as you lay on your back between them. “We can take one of the Harrington’s many, MANY ships and run to someplace new.”
They smile when you giggle as their palms roam your soft skin. 
“Maybe we can build our own estate where we can be together and happy.”, Steve added as his hand slid between your legs.
“We can grow our own supplies and I can play my music.” 
As the other man speaks his fingers spread open your pussy lips making you moan as he begins to rub circles against your clit. His friend joins him as he guides two of his own into your dripping hole. 
“Oh…my…”
“I can become a businessman and own a shop in town. Maybe you can come work with me and sell things at the counter with that gorgeous smile. Fuck, I love seeing you smile.”
“Would…would we have any…children?”, you ask as you feel that knot steadily building in your tummy. 
“Of course, sweetheart. We’d have so many we’d have to build more rooms in our home till it’s as big as a Harrington Castle!”
You and Steve chuckle at your friend’s exclamation; yours more of a pant as both their rhythm hastens. 
“I love you both…so much…I-I should have said something—mmm—before but…I was scared.”
“We know, honey. We know.”
“Just like that. Fuck, I’m coming.”
Both sets of lips attached to your throat as your body trembled and you came undone. 
“Listen to you trying not to scream.”, Steve teased. “You can here, beautiful.”
You giggle as the other man flips you on to your side and pulls your back to his chest. While kissing your cheek, he lifts your leg in the air and you both groan as he guides his cock into your entrance. 
“Oh god, Y/N.”
“Fuck, Eddie. So big.”
His mouth falls open as his humid breath warms your face and his large palm cups one of your breasts. When your hand covers his, you realize his knuckles still have remnants of dry blood. 
“Thank you—mmm—for protecting me.”
“Of course. Fuck—fuck that self-righteous son of a bitch.”
“You’re safe with us, honey.”, Steve smiled softly as he leaned forward to capture your lips. 
“Always have been. God, you feel so good. Say my name, sweetheart. T-Tell me again you love me.”
“Ahhhh—I love you, Edward. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. Please, make me cum.” Locking your eyes with the man in front of you, your body shakes and you scream Eddie’s name repeatedly as you cum. “Please…please… cum inside me.”
The long-haired boy’s rhythm falters for a moment before his fingers grip your cheeks forcing you face him. 
“Are you sure? We’ve never…”
“I’m sure. I want to have a family with you…both of you.”
“Fuck—”, he grunts at your confession as his eyes squeeze shut and he clings to your sweaty form as he pounds his release into your cunt. “H-Hearing you say that…that you really do want a family with a…commoner like me—”
“You’re not a commoner, honey. Your uncle worked so hard to get where he is.”
“I love you.”, he whispers and kisses your lips. 
Grinning, you focus on Steve and circle your arms around his neck as he tugs you under his large frame. 
“Thank you for defending me to.”
You can’t help but giggle as he trails kisses from your forehead, down to your nose, and along your cheek to your neck.
“I’ll always protect you and defend you. No matter what.” Your eyes roll back as he gradually pushes his length into your slightly sore pussy. “Fuck—I love you, Y/N.”
###############
“And there she goes. Why do I even bother?”, the nurse sasses as you promptly climb out of the pod and run to your room.
You were having so much trouble catching your breath having been pulled out in the middle of your intimate moment. You could still feel the intense want and need of having Steve inside you but more than anything your current reality was mixing with that one as you started to sob, feeling heartbroken that you didn’t hear yourself tell this man again that you loved him. 
A rough palm grabbed your bicep and turned you around as lips crashed to your own. 
The second you recognized the taste, you allowed Steve to push your back against the wall as his arms held your waist as close to him as possible. 
He tastes the same as the other universes. How can that be?
Neither of you willing to separate, you listened to him grunt in your ear as he sloppily pulled down your sweats before tugging at his own enough to free his hard, leaking cock from its confinement. 
“Oh f-fuck.”, you mewled as he stretched your tight pussy open and set an aggressive pace as he slammed his hips into yours. 
Your fingers threaded through his soft hair as you bit into his shoulder to stifle the continuous moans that wanted to break free especially when he took hold of one of your thighs to wrap around his waist as he hit your g-spot at a much more precise angle. 
As you opened your eyes, you were met with Eddie’s soft chocolate ones in the doorway and that was enough to allow the coil to snap as you whimpered Steve’s name repeatedly into his ear. At the feeling of your cunt quivering around him, he dropped your leg and quickly pulled out, pumping his cock in his fist till you felt his spend hit your thigh. 
“I-I love you.” At your words, Steve tilted back to look at your face. “I said it to Eddie again. Y-You said it to me but I didn’t get to say it back. I didn’t get to say it back. I did the same with Kallie. I didn’t say it back and then she died.”
Your arms clung to him tighter as he slid with you to the cold tile floor. A blanket was wrapped around your lower half before you felt another set of strong arms circle around you. 
“Sweetheart, just like that Steve in the other universe, I’m sure your sister knew you loved her.”, Eddie whispered as he rested his chin on your shoulder. 
“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done.”, you murmur back. 
“In every universe my father hates me including this one. He wants me to be someone I’m not. Feeling that in every universe so far… it’s heartbreaking but I know I’m ok because of you two.”, Steve sighs and when you pull back he quickly wipes the tear that escaped down his cheek. 
“In all of mine my mom is dead and my dad abandons me leaving me with my uncle. I…I feel them all…all the memories those other versions of me have with my mother being a loving woman and my father being an abusive piece of shit. I feel what I feel for you and Steve; my best friend and the woman I care for. I get overcome with this strong need to protect you.”, Eddie follows as his voice shakes.
“That has to mean something. If whatever you did in those universes didn’t affect us there…”
“Then it won’t affect us here.”, the metalhead finished. 
Shaking your head, you push yourself away from them and pull up your sweats as you head for the door. 
“You’re safe with us, Y/N.”, Steve called giving you pause. “That’s been the same in every universe to…including this one.”
@baileebear @jasminelafleur @twirls827 @dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @starboygf @alba8688 @crybabyddl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @utterlyinsanity @hardladyheart @yesimabratandwhataboutot @chelebelletx @season4steve @fic-lover-29 @micheledawn1975
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that-spider-fan-over-there · 4 months ago
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BNHA 430: This wasn’t very “My Hero Academia” of you I’ll be honest—
Okay, where do I begin? Uh. So the story reached its conclusion. Congratulations, and all the best to Horikoshi-san for telling the story he wanted to tell for ten years, loved the characters, the little world he created after the cancellation of his previous works, I will cherish it for the rest of my life.
... but in my opinion: the last seven chapters were so bad- I don't think I can see this ending as anything other than a contradiction of what we were shown. Like, I thought we'd get a twist, everyone would be fine, something would change. I'm wearing the clown shoes already.
So, I'm just gonna treat this as a normal chapter, and not a final one, because I'll be here for days if I open this can of worms, which, I will not lie, is very bad (I'll open it at some point, not now.) I'm posting this on the.. 6th? Because apparently there's an announcement in the 5th and I don't wanna spoil the fun.
So, uh, under the read more are my thoughts on the ending, be warned I'm very, very negative about it.
*sigh* Oh boi, how killing the League made this go from an "underwhelming" to a "tone-deaf" chapter- I mean. Jesus fuck, leaving things open-ended don't erase the fact they can't make a single appearence to prove me wrong. And if they were alive, the last five chapters (and eight years!) were a waste of emotions and keeping them hidden was a stupidly cruel move.
Funny, the narration is "people aren't equal but it's because of these differences that people find common ground to get along"- THE VILLAINS WERE KILLED OFF FOR BEING DIFFERENT BRO WHAT DO YOU MEAN- "if lending a hand and caring is being a hero then we all became the greatest heroes". Izuku, whatever you're drinking, I'm taking it and drinking it all by myself. You may have cared (which I can't even say for certain anymore). But Tenko died. On accident. Because you gave him OFA.
I liked the "Midoriya-Sensei" part. For 5 seconds. It's fitting, he loves learning stuff, he's good with kids... until you say "it's only because his embers are gone". Then why use it as a tease for seven chapters only to just get rid of them at the end? Is running to Ochako really the last we get to see him use it? Not even as a part-time hero? (not that it matters at the end-)
Ragdoll works with the WWP, Tsukuachi was head strategist in the final battle, Hawks is the (H)PSC president, Aizawa is Aizawa. Why wasn't Izuku hired at an agency? Intelligence was a huge part of his character, yet the moment he was fully Quirkless again, he had to leave? Men truly aren't created equal...
"Cursed power", "blessing", "special" — the only thing special about OFA was being haunted by a guy whose brother was insane enough to hunt it down for generations. A Quirk's a Quirk; having multiple people/powers in one body isn’t special, Tokoyami and Shoto exist. Izuku was supposed to make it special using it on his terms. But I guess "meant to save, not kill" was a lie, as eight out of ten people who had it died. Nine out of eleven, counting BNHA: HR. Tenko died because his body couldn't handle the Quirk, but I guess Izuku isn't gonna think about any of it? Katsuki was right, I guess. OFA is a curse.
Spinner wrote a book (not a comic, guess he took offense to Izuku. Fair, actually). Mr. Compress got a panel, but no real mention of the LoV? They broke the status quo for months (in-universe), and after all of that, nothing changes? Did Spinner know about Tenko, how he became Tomura? And the people who will read it and pull an MLA? TomurAFO had followers, now he's martyr a lá Re-Destro. I’m hoping Spinner didn’t commit suicide like Destro did.
Ochako’s expanding Quirk Counseling. Reform’s implied (it only said expansion), but Himiko still became what Curious wanted her to be: A cautionary tale. And I’m still asking how Ochako knows Himiko what went through, she only told Ochako she was hated because of her Quirk and how she loves. I wanna think she’s reforming it, but nothing else changed, why should I think she’s the exception? She might literally just think Himiko didn't get help, that's a cruel irony.
(At least she's seen as a hero on her rights… even if it took 429 chapters, messy writing, her face looking like rubber, and still being a girl recognized as a "caretaker", not a kickass hero).
Shoji's travelling through Japan to solve discrimination and got a prize for it. No foundations or mentions of Spinner being the main reason he did it, just "standing atop those who rose up eight years ago", just solving it peacefully, you sure are, buddy. Like, I'm sure you are being successful but how exactly are you solving this? I mean, you "solved" the hospital fight by fighting Spinner with Koda- Oh wait, time constraints, we can't elaborate how. I'm rolling my eyes
Shirakumo showed the noumu state could've been reversed, yet Katsuki, who never killed someone aside from AFO (and that guy was gonna die anyway), fatally exploded him. I hoped it was a misunderstood panel but no. He died because he wanted to save Tenko. Even fucking Gran Torino was alive by the end of this. Why.
I think Shoto is the only main character I’m not really having a problem with (Ochako's ending required Himiko for it to feel somewhat complete. Sorry, Ochako). I’m weirded out that they mentioned the billboard using the guy whose life was ruined by it as an example, but other than that, he’s doing fine. Wish we saw him talking to his siblings though. But alas. No mention of Fuyumi and Natsuo. And Rei's with Endeavor. Fuck I take it back Todofam still deserved better.
Inko got so sidelined when Mitsuki and Masaru were in 424 for half a chapter, by the way. Just one panel for her, the protagonist's mother.
Schedules not aligning is one thing (I get it, my friends and I can't align ours anymore), but Class A not opening an agency together? They survived the same two wars. And you're telling me they wouldn't say "WE'RE WORKING TOGETHER AND TAKING MIDORIYA WITH US"? Also, where’s the "world where heroes have time to spare" when they look so busy? Were they understaffed or working as celebrities? (if someone says it was for the suit I will point out to the three nepo babies of Class A + Momo's Quirk, Katsuki’s a dumbass if he forgot that detail).
We wasted pages on a kid that can throw plates from his hair. To tell him he can be a hero. Coming from the guy who had to stop working as a hero when he lost OFA. I'm not taking this parallel seriously.
I wish Izuku wasn't in "everything’s fine" mode until the end. We're really gonna leave him at "implied" mode, not confirm if his mental state's fine? Being open and emotional was an appealing part of him and now we just get “Yeah that’s just how it is”.
This one's petty and irrational, I know, but since I'm letting some of the steam out: I hate Izuku's new design; face scars (the constant "HE FAILED" reminder makes my eye twitch and I wish that was a joke, but also so many characters in BNHA got face scars, it doesn't even stand out), "perfect tie", normal formal attire- where's the character highlights? The things that make Izuku stand out?
But hey: He gets to be a hero again! Not with skills, heart, intelligence, strength, in spite of Quirklessness. No, he has an Iron Man suit! That Class A paid billions for. The government should be paying the child soldiers- sorry, Class A and B (and Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu) instead, but all they get is a pat on the back. If the suit breaks down, hurts or kills him while in it? I'll laugh (Hatsume and Melissa worked on it? Oh it's gonna happen, I'm hoping). And Toshinori, what happened to him, did he hit his head when he landed on that building!?
Went from: Smiles cover his fear and reassure people, believed saving is about saving body and soul, wanted to help Tenko, only didn't because Gran Torino said it wasn't a good idea. Disliked people were being heroes for fame and not because it's the right thing to do, only used support items as reinforcement and a precaution, never as a full solution, even Iron Might was so he’d have a chance to fight, not a solution.
To: If Tenko died smiling, it wasn't resignation, he was saved, even though he died. Didn't care AFO killed the Shimura - his mentor's - bloodline. Is fine with the billboards existing, even though it caused things like the Todoroki plotline. Now he's giving Izuku a suit, when the last time he did it himself, it didn't save him and his spine was almost snapped? Dude, what?
Also full disclosure, I thought he was paralyzed, but I guess he just had a bad back. Let's not discuss the trauma of almost being snapped in half and feeling your bones break so bad you set a record of how many screws were used, I guess.
... I hated BKDK's conclusion. It's actually so laughable how much I hate it. If it had another outcome, I'd probably be overjoyed as a shipper. But look at this mess:
Thematically, Tenko wasn't rescued, it wasn't a perfect victory because AFO still got away with what he did to him. Save to win, win to save were just nice words. "The End of an Era and The Beginning"? Nothing changed in the world they live in, and they don't stand out among other heroes (these are AM’s successors. And they aren't even important. How.) What new era is this, really?
Their resolutions, relationship rebuild? Offscreen, but Katsuki was the one with the Iron Man suit idea for Izuku and apparently that compensates for it. Because he’s the one who can solve all of Izuku’s problems now, not motivate him to be better anymore. It wasn’t even Izuku’s idea, it was Class A, and sure it’s a nice (condescending) gesture. We’ve seen Toshinori barely come out alive even with one. That's a support item for a reckless little shit who will get himself killed.
Izuku barely batted an eye to any of the things he went through - losing his arms and/or OFA? Seeing Spinner's breakdown? Lady Nagant!? Katsuki or Tenko dying because of Izuku and OFA!? SOME INTROSPECTION?! IT’S BEEN OVER 100 CHAPTERS SINCE YOU’VE BEEN THE EMOTIONAL MC—
Katsuki's insecurities were pointless by the way! Izuku's empathy and heart never mattered, a Quirk was more important to be a hero in the end. BULLIED HIM FOR NOTHING BUDDY- like. Shouldn't have done it at all, but now his character development means nothing because his previous beliefs were the right ones. Changing for the better was pointless. Like Twice's death. Or Katsuki’s own death, since “Control Your Heart” meant nothing as well.
Izuku still remembers Tenko, but has he done anything about it? No one wants to remember him, Himiko or Touya. Spinner's book won't be taken seriously except for Tenko's followers, Mr. Compress was sidelined, Twice's death was pointless. They didn't change society, they've returned to the status quo. Pointless as Izuku losing his arms.
That fucking suit- Wow, he really couldn't be a Quirkless hero, the casual rivalry was just erased for an easy way out of their consequences, there's no catching up because Katsuki paid for Izuku a way to be a hero. Izuku doesn't get there because he still believes Quirks make a hero. This isn't heartwarming or romantic or whatever, Katsuki just proved he also didn't believe Izuku in the end.
And it ends with Izuku seeing Tenko's... Ghost? Hallucination? Vestige? I guess we’ll never know, because Izuku’s following his dreams again! Let's ignore he's doing this during class hours and he definitely should be in UA but who cares, he probably quit, we'll never know. Aside for the BKDK/DKBK fics, being a teacher was clearly a inferior choice for him and he can't do both ignore Aizawa and Present Mic look at him being the world's greatest hero!
It just took 1 year of trauma, scars, following on his mentor's mistakes, losing the thing that "actually" made him be a hero, having the first (Katsuki) and the last (Tenko) people he tried to save dying because of his existence (one literally by his hands), proving anyone can be one! By ignoring the guilt of those you failed, give hands and sparing your thoughts, having superpowers and/or connections who'll give you a suit! And if they still "act out"? Then they deserved death no matter the valid points they've had and you gotta play jury judge executioner. Unless they decide to be quiet like a good entitled citizen.
Fuck this shit I swear- You could’ve had a BKDK proposal with a double spread handhold, and I'd still think Izuku's ending isn't earned. His "happy ending"— actually. BKDK crumbs are the fandom's consolation prize for this ending. I feel cheated out my OTP (like. I'm shipping the version of them in my head, not the canon one 412-onwards because it got worse from there-)
A story about hope bent itself over to give the protagonist an unearned happy ending, when it said it was for every character who wants to connect to that hope, who wants to give that hope. Izuku went from "wanting to be a beacon of hope and save people" to "talk about beacons of hope, but in the end, others are doing this better than you. You had none of the willpower to be one." He's not hope or unity. Act 3!Izuku is just a plot device, I feel nothing for his ending other than irritation, and I hate it because he was my favourite character. Lol, a very useless one in the end.
So. Yeah, those are my thoughts about the ending. I think. I don't know if these are all of them. I feel horrible about hating it, but I've sat on this chapter for days and right now, not a lot can make me like it, especially with the timeskip, which made this "open ending" a rushed and incomplete mess. If you disagree with me, honestly, that is very fair. I'm glad for you if you liked the ending. I'm just disappointed, and wanted to share my opinions. (and I do have more stuff to say about it but I think I've been negative enough)
But for the weeks I spent hoping this wouldn't slap a classic shonen ending in this catasthrophic mess and for making me feel like a dumbass after what we got in the end: Everything after 410 that isn't 421 and 422 is non-existent to me, this epilogue was a freaking waste.
Thank you for reading.
(EDIT.: Fixed some spelling mistakes and added a few more things because I can keep going on how bad this ending is. Also to clear stuff up: I am still a BKDK shipper. But only until 412, anything after that? Yeah, no, keep that shit away from me lol.)
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quixotical-lymbo · 3 months ago
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Hello! I read your Daredevil Darling fic for Macaque and loved it so much! I was wondering if you would do it for Wukong too to have his perspective on it
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Pairing: Wukong x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: You've had it up to here with your boyfriend, now it's time to show him that you're not a wimp. Warnings/Tags: Slight angst, implied self-harm, well, not really implied when it's clear as day-, argument, self-deprecation, hurt/comfort. Word Count: 900+ words
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"You're officially an idiot."
"How can you be so stupid?" 
"Why the fuck did you do that?" 
And many other things you began spewing out as you awaited for your second execution. Exaggerations aside, you were totally and utterly fucked when your boyfriend arrives. 
How did you end up lying in the middle of your living room with both hands wrapped in gauze? Well, it all started when you and Wukong were in a little iffy mood with each other during date night at his place. From playing video games together, to board games, then finally playing truth or dare, which ended terribly. The two of you had a mean streak going on, neither of you were backing down from the most atrocious dares that were said. 
"You better give up now, buttercup, I just can't lose."
"Says you! I dare you to lick the bottom of the couch while doing a handstand using your nails only!" 
"Pfft, fine! Then you have to hold a hot pan that's been in the oven for ten seconds! Oh wait, I forgot, you can't." 
"I can!" 
"Nuh uh." "Yuh huh!" "Nuh uh." "Yuh huh!" "Nuh uh." "Yuh HUH-!" 
You get the picture. 
That one sentence stuck with you during your little fight with Wukong and set off the rest of the events that resulted in you almost frying your hands off.
"Look, peaches, it's not like I'm saying you can't do some pretty amazing ultra cool stuff, but you're not…well, me…soooo, please don't get yourself hurt cause you wanna act all high and mighty." 
Maybe he was right. Now you feel pretty shitty after trying to prove him wrong days after that eventful night. If it wasn't for Mei barging into your apartment/home to drag you out to hangout, you wouldn't have been able to call for help, much less leave your apartment without damaging your hands even more. After tending to your burns with her help and begging her not to call an ambulance, you were left to await Wukong's arrival after Mei had decided to contact him instead. 
The slam from your front door made you wince as you looked in the direction blocked by your sofa. Wukong's face popped around the furniture as he lowered his gaze onto your pitiful form; you were laid out on your rug with a pillow under your head and bandaged arms resting on your stomach. Mei slowly appeared out from behind your boyfriend tapping both of her index fingers together, she mumbled a farewell before booking it out of your place. 
Wukong knelt beside you and placed a hand over your left one. His touch was gentle enough to not cause you to hiss in pain from the applied pressure as he poked around your injury. 
"I-"
"I don't want to hear it." 
You clamped your mouth shut and furrowed your brow as Wukong continued staring at your hands, his expression tight and void of any emotion that would suggest that he was upset. No,  no, if anything he looked..disappointed?
You felt sick to your stomach. You would have greatly preferred him screaming obscenities at you than…whatever this was.
You couldn't hold your gaze on him anymore and opted to stare at the ceiling. 
Wukong took a deep breath before exhaling slowly, he rubbed the side of his head as he carefully examined your hands. 
"I don't know what possessed you into doing this or…or thinking this is alright, but I know damn well it better not be because of some stupid dare that I joked about days ago." 
"How was I supposed to know you were joking," You grumbled under your breath.
Wukong stared at you. 
You glared back. 
Wukong narrowed his eyes and scoffed.
Your gaze wavered as the need to blink caused you to look away first. 
"..." Wukong called out your name sternly. When you didn't turn to look at him, Wukong threw his hands up in defeat. "Why do…this? Out of everything you could've done-!"
"-and not take the chance to prove that I'm able to do things like you? Oh, I'm so sorry your majesty, please let me hear all about how fucking weak I am," Your nose crinkled as you fought back the sting in your eyes, but that didn't stop your voice from cracking. 
 
"...are you…?" Wukong blinked back his shock as he shook his head and was so frustrated he could only stammer the rest of his words out. "Are you serious? I don't…no, I…why would I think you're weak-"
Wukong paused as he recalled what he had said that day, his eyes squeezed shut as he placed a hand on your bicep. 
"Oh no, hun, no, no…I'm-"
You sniffed as you shrugged off his hand. Wukong's frown deepened as he reached for you again, but decided to keep his hands to himself. 
"Why didn't you tell me? Or better yet, shut me up? Y'know I say dumb stuff sometimes, I-" Wukong bit his lip. Finding the words to articulate the feelings stirring in his heart was tough. "-I'm sorry, alright? I probably should've taken the taunts down a notch,  but I'm not a mind reader, I couldn't have known it'd bother you this much when you haven't said anything to me…and…and you usually handle my teasing well! I…I'm sorry, I really am." 
If his soft pleas didn't rope you in already, then him curling up beside you with his tail around your ankle did. Not to mention the onslaught of cheesy compliments he began whispering to you. Your cheeks were practically as hot as the pan you burned yourself with as Wukong added kisses with each sorry. You glanced at him and sighed after a few seconds of his overwhelming display of affection.
"Can you…help me till 'm better?" 
"Of course," Wukong smiled as you carefully scooted closer to him. "Anything for you, peaches, just…please let me know if I'm being a jerk next time" 
"Alright," You snorted as you placed your head against Wukong's chest. Wukong made sure he wasn't putting pressure on your hands as he carried you from the floor and walked you over to your bedroom. 
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🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight!!
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agoodroughandtumble · 8 months ago
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None of Those Girls Are Me Part 2 - Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Status: Incomplete Summary: Reader is completely oblivious to Zoro’s feelings Warnings: 18+, Language, might be smut or implied smut in further chapters 
You had remained next to him for the rest of the night – completely unaware as to how grateful he was that you had given up on your random flirtations. Unsurprisingly, the more you drank the more animated you became – increasingly excited about every topic of conversation, laughing without a care in the world and so, so oblivious to the way Zoro was looking at you. He was grateful for that too. He could let himself indulge, just a little, safe in the knowledge that any lingering looks that could give him away were far from your radar.
The bar lights reflected in your eyes, emphasising their own brightness lit up by your smile. Zoro couldn’t help but think that the stars themselves were dancing in those eyes, and only for him. This delusion was only exacerbated by the way your thighs were touching his and the ease at which you invaded his personal space, as if you already knew he had made room for you behind his walls months ago.
He was too busy allowing himself to relax against your hand on his forearm that your question threw him completely off guard.
“So what sort of girls do you like?” You were looking at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to respond with anything other than “You, obviously”.
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I told you I’m not really into the one night stand thing.”
You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly. “I know. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking in general. Oh!” You wiggled your fingers, trying to think, “Who was that girl? Urgh,” fingers increased speed as you wracked your brain. “Toshiko? The marine, with the swords. You liked her.”
Zoro’s eyes studied your carefully. “Tashigi. She’s a pain in the arse.”
You smiled wryly at him. “Uh huh.”
He wasn’t quite sure where you were going with this, but was definitely sure he wasn’t going to like it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Zoro watched as you chewed your lips, trying really, really hard not to think what those lips tasted like. Probably alcohol at this point, his probably did too. Which was more than find since he could blame said alcohol for his inability to stop staring.
“Well,” you shuffled almost impossibly closer, “Just in my experience if someone gets under your skin that much there’s a reason why.”
He let out an amused sigh and tried to force the upturned corner of his mouth back to neutrality. The irony of you saying that to him was surely the universe’s biggest “fuck you” yet.
You had noticed the change in his expression. “I knew it!”
Oh fuck. He prepared himself for the onslaught of questions, the feigned disbelief because obviously you had to be aware, and, lastly, he prepared himself for the “gentle” let down that while you liked him, it wasn’t in that way but you still wanted to be friends – for the sake of the crew, and all. He hadn’t prepared himself for the triumphant way you clapped your hands together, eyes lighting up almost too brightly.
“You do like her!”
The fuck.
He took a sip of his drink. A rather long sip. More of a downing if anything. Thankfully the bar was so busy that whenever one of you went to get a round you came back with multiples to save the constant queueing. So he kept drinking. It was almost as if his brain had short circuited. If he said he didn’t, you would just tease him about denying his feelings. But he couldn’t say he did because obviously that was a lie. You were clearly expecting some sort of reaction, and him just downing drinks wasn’t exactly giving off the impression that he Did Not Care. So, in a last act of desperation he did something completely out of character that he was surely going to regret, but he’d found himself digging such a hole the only way out was to blow the whole terrain up. He set his drink down and turned to face you, trying to show some semblance of indifference. “Say if I did like anyone, how do I…” he sighed. This was the worst idea but the only one that wasn’t screaming from the rooftops. “Do that.”
The smile on your face was almost maniacal. He would find it adorable if it didn’t instil him with fear. You were clearly not going to let this go. “Are you asking me for dating advice?” You laughed and his heart twinged. “The great Pirate Hunter Zoro is afraid of telling a girl he likes her?”
Obviously yes. But you didn’t have to spell it out. You could have afforded him that dignity at least. But his mouth spoke before his brain engaged and said the worst possible thing. “No, just tell me what girls like. What you would like.”
You smirked and picked up your drink offering a toast. “Oh, I’m going to get you so many girls.”
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magicfootballstuff · 1 year ago
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Please can we have a mapi leon ficlet?
You arrive at training one morning to find a bit of a commotion in the changing room. 
Having only lived in Barcelona for a few months, your Spanish is still at a fairly basic level and your Catalan is limited to just a few phrases, but this morning the girls are far too hysterical about something for you to be able to understand what’s going on at all. Whatever it is, it seems to be centring around Alexia and Patri, but you sit down in your usual spot next to Mapi, who is watching on with amusement, and ask her to explain. 
“What’s going on?”
“Alexia went to one of the millions of fancy events she gets to go to and met Patri’s celebrity crush,” Mapi fills you in on the situation.
“Who’s that?”
Mapi gives you a name, but it’s not somebody you’ve heard of and you tell her as much.
“I don’t know who that is?”
“She’s a famous singer here in Spain,” Mapi explains. She messes around with her phone for a few seconds, then tilts the screen towards you, showing you an Instagram post of Alexia dressed in a sparkling black gown standing next to the singer, equally glammed up. “What do you think? Worth the hype?”
Objectively, the singer is quite pretty. But what you say is, “I don’t know if she’s really my type.”
“Okay, but you have to admit she’s hot,” Mapi pushes you, an incredulous frown on her face.
“I … uh, I guess so,” you concede with a shrug.
“So, what is your type then?” Mapi asks, as conversationally as she would if she were asking you what you did on your day off.
You feel your cheeks start to heat up as you reply, “Um, well, historically men.”
“Oh,” Mapi says, her eyes widening in realisation. “Oh.”
“Is that a problem?” you ask.
“Not a problem, just a surprise,” Mapi answers, quickly recovering from her surprise. “I have a bad habit of assuming people are gay until they tell me otherwise. But it’s fine if you’re straight.”
The thing is, you’re probably not straight. In fact, you’re definitely not. But you’re also not quite sure what label applies to you yet, or if there even is a label at all. Even if there was, you’re not practised enough at coming out to be able to drop it into casual conversation without massively overthinking beforehand.
“Anyway, it’s okay to admit that a girl is hot,” Mapi teases you. “We’re not going to suddenly revoke your heterosexual membership card just because you find one woman attractive.”
You allow yourself to laugh.
“What?” Mapi asks, catching her tongue between her teeth as she grins at you. “Do the straights not have memberships? I’m pretty sure I’ve had my gay one since I was about fourteen.”
“Of course you have. Anyway, I don’t think either of those ‘memberships’ is for me.”
You hope Mapi picks up on the meaning behind your words. You don’t think you’re ready to spell it out explicitly yet, but you feel safe enough with Mapi to test the waters a little bit.
“That’s okay,” Mapi says, reaching out to squeeze your thigh in reassurance. “Labels are overrated anyway.”
You feel the relief wash over your body. Mapi is kind and open-minded and you knew she wouldn’t shun you from the team just because you’ve been having an identity crisis recently, but it doesn’t make the idea of admitting it aloud any less scary. But it feels really good to have said it, even if you implied it more than actually said the words yourself.
“You’re actually the first person I’ve admitted that to,” you say, almost laughing in relief, that’s how good it feels to get this off your chest. “That I might want to … you know.”
“Date people who aren’t men?” Mapi finished your sentence for you.
You nod.
“Yeah.”
Mapi reaches for your hand and gives your fingers a squeeze.
“Well I’m flattered to be the first.”
“So, what’s your type?” you ask Mapi.
Perhaps sensing that you want to move on quickly from the big revelation about your identity, Mapi answers straight away.
“Well the most important thing for me is passion,” Mapi tells you. “Passion about football, passion about food, passion about anything really. I love listening to a woman tell me about something that she loves. But also kindness, intelligence, somebody who isn’t afraid to stand up for what they believe in, even if it’s difficult. Integrity, you know? Somebody with strong values.”
“Wow,” you say, amazed that Mapi has given it so much thought, when your own type isn’t much more than the word ‘girls???’ in flickering lights at the front of your mind.
Mapi pushes off the bench, ready to follow the rest of the team, who seem to have calmed down slightly since the hysterics when you first arrived, out onto the pitch, but she turns and shoots you a wicked grin before she leaves, adding, “Oh, and someone with a great ass.”
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