#actually how long were they gone it’s more than the one class
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
constantly thinking about the fact that riri didn’t make it to her differential equations class
#the thing u need to know about me is that … well something is wrong#and the moment she said it I couldn’t let it go#why couldn’t she go to class and then y’all go off and do whatever u have to do#did someone write her a note?#or at least send an email#u know they are gonna hit with the a lack of planning on ur part doesn’t constitute a blah blah blah#actually how long were they gone it’s more than the one class#what if there were tests#black panther wakanda forever#riri williams#shuri
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deku - Midoriya Izuku
TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere
gn reader
Thinking about being childhood friends with Izuku, who’s always had a bit of a crush on you.
You’ve always known, but you’ve never humored it. He’s your friend – anything else would just be awkward. If you had to put it in any other term, you’d say he felt more like a little brother.
You wish he’d allowed the two of you to grow apart – as normal people do.
There wasn’t really any reason for the two of you to stay friends after middle school. His quirk suddenly manifested, and he got into UA – became a pro-hero – and then the symbol of peace. And you were still… kind of just doing your thing – studying, working, struggling to pay rent – struggling to keep a date…
The two of you never had much in common anyway, and you never really knew what to talk about with him anymore – only knowing to ask him how his mother was. After all, you grew out of your otaku phase a long while ago – and otherwise, you felt out-educated in any and every conversation the two of you had with each other. You swear talking to him makes you feel like a toddler learning your first words – it’s humiliating, and you don’t understand how any of it’s remotely stimulating for him, either.
Still, he’ll text you when he has the time, asking if you’d like to meet up at a café – talk, catch up – and you, not wanting to be rude, always accept.
You’d gone wide-eyed the first time you’d met him after middle school. Jeez Louise – he’d had to have grown twice his size – jacked and scarred to no end. It only got worse over the years. Now, adults – he must be twice your size. Bigger even.
You blush now when he flirts with you. But not so much for the reasons he wants.
Honestly, it’s more uncomfortable than it’s flattering. It was Izuku, after all – Deku – no matter how little he resembled the crybaby from your childhood – he’d always be that same nerdy loser friend who’d chased after you ever since you first met.
He might have grown up, but his crush on you hadn’t.
His doe-eyed look of longing and adoration had always made you feel a little awkward – a little sorry for him. And now that he’s become a man, it’s only become even more… desperate… a little pathetic, actually…
Bedroom eyes that make you laugh nervously, pretending to brush it off as a joke but really wishing he’d just give it a rest already. Surely, as a pro-hero and public figure, he could get a date? One of the many screaming fans that pine for him everywhere he drags that awful golden cape he has on his shoulders. And if not any of them, then maybe a model. A movie star even.
Why is he so hung up on you?
The funny thing is, you’d tried vying him of his crush by telling him about hook-up after hook-up, boyfriend after boyfriend – treating him like a girlfriend you could gossip with.
But it’s almost like he takes it as a challenge – talking and helping you through your relationships, giving his input and advice – just like a real friend would… only… always implementing something… something condescending, something suggestive, something saying you ought to be with him instead – he’d never treat you like that, he’d never do you wrong, you’d be taking good care of with him.
You’d made the mistake of saying you were struggling with a class at university – just to make conversation – just to talk about something trivial. But of course, he’d seen it as an opportunity – quick to offer his help, saying he’d taken that class as an extracurricular – just for a bit of fun, he’d said, light reading material he’d done on the side of his internship.
You don’t know why it’s so hard to tell him no.
Suppose it’s the possibility of being wrong – the guilt of thinking he has impure intentions when he’s supposedly the purest person in the world.
But you should have trusted your instincts.
“Please, Izuku-” You’d immediately restored to begging. Who wouldn’t? He’s a two-meter-tall monster of a man – jacked with muscles fatter than a bear.
Your phone’s been missing since you came back from the bathroom – your lips wet with his unwanted kisses – your neck sore from having his fist wrapped around it when you tried stopping him.
You’d only managed to break free after biting – blood salty in your mouth. You nearly vomited, choking on a mix of bile and fear.
Fuck – your legs are so weak, you might just buckle from the dread alone – feeling like a bunny snagged on fox teeth.
“You used to take me when we’d play wrestle... you remember?”
The comment is pulled out of nowhere.
He stalks you, a fond look on his face as though the two of you were reminiscing good old times. As though his eyes weren’t a nocturnal green like foxfire on the fen. As though he wasn’t radiating black whip – ready to snare you.
“Think you can take me now?”
You had your hands raised apprehensively – but the hopelessness took its toll and made your entire body shake on the spot.
Your only hope was to talk him out of it. If only you could think past the fear and string a sentence together that wasn’t along the lines of “Please-”
But something about that look on his face told you he wouldn’t listen to reason anymore. Not manic, not like a person who’d finally snapped – but controlled – resolute – and playful even. Nothing like you’d ever seen. Nothing you could understand.
“What’s wrong, hm?” He smiles, head tipped in that charming way that used to make you want to pinch his cheek. Now it just makes you sick to look at – swallowing thickly as you tack another step back away from it. “I’ll go easy – so don’t worry… I know it's not exactly a fair fight anymore…”
Your better judgment failed you – fight-or-flight kicked in, and you made a break for it.
Budging into the couch on your way, it’s a messy scramble for the door – but you manage. Feeling feverish with dread and pumped full of adrenaline, you brush the cold handle with just your fingertips before something wraps around your midriff in a snug grip – pulling you back into the living room.
You’re lifted from the ground, kicking – now screaming – flailing in the air before you’re flipped on your back against the couch.
“Don’t be like that~” He murmurs. “Always so wishy-washy~” Voice in a low purr that makes you feel like coughing up your heart – squirming beneath him and his heavy hands as they paw your thighs – manhandling you like nothing you’d ever imagine him to do.
Raking his fingers through the dough before squeezing your ass greedily – kneading his fat crotch against the thin fabric protecting your sex.
“Complaining about all your weak-dicked boyfriends as if begging me to come fuck you myself – yet such a flighty little slut when it comes down to it.” He sneers, and blackwhip tightens some around your limbs. “Let me help you out.”
One hand tugs your underwear until it rips, whilst the other hand pulls up to grab your face – squeezing your cheeks to keep you still when forcing his kisses on you.
“After all… what are friends for?”
♡ DEKU - MIDORIYA IZUKU masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist
#yandere bnha#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere mha#yandere my hero academia#yandere midoriya x reader#yandere midoriya#yandere midoriya izuku#yandere deku x reader#yandere deku#yandere izuku#yandere deku x y/n#daddy deku#deku x reader#deku x you#yandere izuku x reader#yandere izuku midoriya#izuku x reader#izuku midoria x reader#deku smut#izuku smut#midoriya x reader#izuku midoriya smut#midoriya smut#deku x y/n#yandere
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Til It’s Gone
Theodore Nott x reader
Based on this cute lil request 🤗
Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)
word count: 3.2k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.
“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.
Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.
“Theo.”
“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.
Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.
The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.
“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”
“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.
Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.
“Theo?”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.
He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.
“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.
Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.
“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”
The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.
“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.
Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.
They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.
The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.
“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.
Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.
“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”
“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.
Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.
“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.
“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.
“It’s Theo.”
“That’s what I said.”
You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.
Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.
It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.
You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.
Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.
That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.
The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.
“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.
The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.
Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.
“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.
Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.
“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.
“Oh fuck off you two.”
Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.
“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”
“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”
“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”
“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”
With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.
Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.
For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.
It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.
Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.
And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.
It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.
It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.
“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.
Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.
It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.
The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.
“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.
“Theodore?”
Theo glares at the use of the name.
“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.
With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.
“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.
“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”
"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.
"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."
Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.
As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.
It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.
But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.
Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.
“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”
A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.
“Just a special friend,” you reply.
After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.
Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.
After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.
There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.
Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.
You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.
“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.
With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.
With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.
“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.
You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.
“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.
“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.
To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.
"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.
"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."
"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."
"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.
"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.
You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.
A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.
Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"
"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.
"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"
His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.
"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.
"I think I can have that arranged."
Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽
#slytherin boys#harry potter universe#slytherin#theodore nott#lorenzo berkshire#matteo riddle#mattheo riddle#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theo nott x y/n#Theo Nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theo nott fanfiction#Spotify
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
I went for a long walk with Pandolf last weekend and had the great surprise to find an elder tree still in bloom! It usually happens in late June around here... I know we've had a cold spring + early summer, and the tree was at a higher elevation where seasons tend to be a bit delayed, but still it was the latest in the year I've ever seen elder flowers, and when I returned with my long-reach pruner I half-expected them to have disappeared. Gone back to June where they belong.
But they were still there.
I wandered around for a bit but found no other elder trees in bloom, just this one—you, sir, are a freak. This tree knows what it feels like to sleep through your alarm then run through your eerily empty and echo-y school corridors with everyone already in class. This poor tree woke up in a panic on July 1st like wait you guys have already flowered??
The elder trees near my house are already preparing their September berries like responsible citizens, and probably watched me come home with an armful of flowers like ¿where did you find these? And although the flowers were a little bit old / dry, the syrup tastes the same as always. My favourite part of the process is the amazing lemony-flowery smell when it's cooking, and how it lingers for a full day afterwards <3 I thought I would have to wait until next spring for my house to smell like elder flowers again so I appreciated it even more than usual.
(Pandolf did not appreciate any of it; he finds the process of destemming flowers terribly long and boring. Every so often his long nose would poke out from under the table like hi, did you notice our "long" walk was actually very short? Because of a tree? can we go back?)
878 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nyctophobia
Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness
Ch.1
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader
Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)
Word count: 9.2k
A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go
How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.
But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.
Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.
You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.
“I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.
“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?
“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt.
“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.
“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically.
“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.
“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.
“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly.
“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.
You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.
“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile.
“Hey.”
“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.
“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought.
But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.
“Logan!”
Ah, you guess that made sense now.
Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him.
Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very… rugged lumberjack looking.
You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man.
“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name.
“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.
“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.
“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance.
“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly.
“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.
Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.
“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”
“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless.
“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.
“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of.
You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”
Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?”
“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.
“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles’ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned.
“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level.
“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”
“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.
“Never gonna live that down, am I?”
“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?”
“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.
Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.”
You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.
“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.
“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.
“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.
“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying.
“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!
“Uh…” Storm started.
“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.
“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.
“You’re fucking kidding me?”
“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.
“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.
“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”
“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.
“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.
“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.
“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.
Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door.
“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless.
Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.
“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.
For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless.
“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly.
“Nah, not quite.”
“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering.
Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.
“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”
You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.
“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement.
“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man.
“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.
“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.
Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you.
Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him.
Literally.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here.
He was in huge trouble.
The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.
He had to remind himself of that.
“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself.
You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.
If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.
“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling.
“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”
Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder.
“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.
“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room.
“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you.
“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…
“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return.
“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.
“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?
Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either.
Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything.
“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.
Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little.
You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion.
“Whaddya mean it made sense before?”
“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped.
“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone.
“Get it now?”
Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features.
You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck.
Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?”
You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met.
He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.
“Sure.” He said, before closing the door.
You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?”
Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”
Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it.
“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.
Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.
“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head.
“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.
“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.
“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more.
“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation.
“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.
“But in practice?”
“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths.
Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.
You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.
“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited.
Fuck’s sake.
Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing.
You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits.
Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.
Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips.
“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.
“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.
“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent.
“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second.
He really didn’t like you lying to him.
“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.
“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening.
Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”
Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.
“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.
For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.
“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.
“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”
Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that.
“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this.
It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!
He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking…
With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time.
“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?
Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”
You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?”
You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.
“You were a waitress?”
“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands.
With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.
“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine.
“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully.
Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe.
“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities.
“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide.
“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.
“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.
“Walked into that one…”
“Yeah, you kinda did.”
You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself.
“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”
The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.
You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”
“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence.
“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.
Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.
You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill.
But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.
“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought.
Logan was right. That was a good thing.
“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one.
Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you.
“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”
Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features.
“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance.
“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”
“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.
“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care.
“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.
“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young?
“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.
“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.
Yeah. For science.
Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”
“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down.
“Ya done?”
“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.
“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.
“So what?”
“How’dya make the pasta?”
You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care.
As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you.
“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.
It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.
“I should probably–”
“Look, you should–”
You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care.
You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours.
Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.
“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all.
“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.
But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.
Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.
#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#x men x reader#x men logan#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#the wolverine x reader#logan smut#logan x reader smut#x men wolverine#essa's works
752 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.
"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.
Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.
You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"
Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."
"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"
"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.
"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.
"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."
Everyone stared blankly at you.
Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."
"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.
You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"
After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.
"Greetings, Fourth Graders,
By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?
Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.
Yours Truly,
Lieutenant Bradshaw"
You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"
It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.
"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."
All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.
-----------------------------
"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.
What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.
Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.
Other than writing letters he couldn't send.
"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.
"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile.
Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.
So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.
Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that.
I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.
Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.
One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.
------------------------------
Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely.
As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now.
There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.
"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."
When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.
"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"
She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"
"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"
She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."
"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"
"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.
"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."
She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."
"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.
It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"
Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."
"I'm on it."
She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.
"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.
"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns."
The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."
You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."
Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"
"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.
After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.
Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now.
And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.
You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.
When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.
Open me when you're in bed
That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.
You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.
Gorgeous,
You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.
You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.
You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.
"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.
You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.
"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.
Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.
This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.
You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.
I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.
You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.
Natasha Trace
Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"
There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"
"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.
"I'll be there soon."
You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day.
-----------------------------
"Bradshaw!"
It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.
Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.
"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.
The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."
"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.
--------------------------------
I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 22
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@horseslovers2016
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
@daggerspare-standingby
@nessjo
@trickphotography2
@lyn-js
@furiousladyking
@godsfavoritebabe
@bethabear12
@halo-mystic
@sherlockstrangewolf
@theamuz
@khaylin27
#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfiction#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#yours truly bradley bradshaw
634 notes
·
View notes
Text
Satoru, who...
Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader
CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end
The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.
AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet
WC: 3k
Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.
And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.
He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).
Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.
He has fallen for you bad.
Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.
One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.
Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.
Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.
Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise.
It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).
Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.
Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs.
He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.
Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.
When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.
Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.
Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything.
He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.
Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.
Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real.
He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.
Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.
He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.
Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.
Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.
Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.
Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.
Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.
Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault.
But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.
Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.
Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been.
You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you.
A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.
Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory.
Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it.
On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.
He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.
Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die.
Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.
Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.
Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.
Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.
Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.
—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-
Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading
#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#satoru x reader#satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#fluff#chimera-writes#dad!gojo#husband!gojo
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay but how about our toxic Slytherin boys who only have a soft spot for the reader🥺
Slytherin Boys – They only have a soft spot for you
Warning: Honestly ... no warnings!
A/N: Thank you for the request! Enjoy!
Not proofread.
Mattheo …
… whose frown disappeared as soon as he heard your voice or spotted you in the crowd. Who immediately hides his injured fist behind his back in fear of worrying you – he didn’t want to taint you with his darkness. Mattheo who deleted and blocked every single girl’s number after falling for you. Mattheo who stopped skipping classes, just to always be with you and see you several times throughout the day. The young riddle brother who’d rather wear cozy pajamas, with a face mask on his face to watch a movie with you together in his bed instead of getting wasted at a party.
Mattheo who constantly has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from hurting anyone who’s too close to you.
Mattheo who is actually afraid to scare you away with his true self – so afraid, that he constantly has to put up a mask.
Mattheo who’d burn the whole world down just to be with you.
“I love you more than you know, love. From now on, everything I do is for you. You’re mine and I’ll always be yours.”
Theodore …
… who is known to be a womanizer is suddenly ashamed of his past promiscuous lifestyle. Theodore who only has eyes for you, ever since you ran into him and ended up pulling him to the floor with you. He had been annoyed at first but the moment your eyes connected his head went completely silent. For the first time in a long while. He saw peace and warmth in your eyes – his peace, that he would run after from that day on.
Theodore who spent most of his time with you after having finally won you over. The only thing that mattered to him were you and if your relationship was getting serious and you loved him just as earnestly as he loved you, he’d even quit smoking.
“There is no one that I want more than you. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Ti amo.”
Lorenzo …
… was surprisingly thoughtful and selfless when with you. Lorenzo had gained himself the title of being the prince of Slytherin, with his charming looks and boyish smile but every girl who had been in an intimate relationship knew how selfish and arrogant Berkshire really was. He is the my-pleasure-only kind of guy, who’d be gone in the morning. Or the guy who leaves girls on read and just sheepishly smiles at them when confronted about it. But with you, Lorenzo can’t help but light up like a small child on Christmas eve whenever you hold his hand let alone are close to him. He’d impatiently wait for your replies and snatch his phone from wherever it was whenever it vibrated in the hopes of it being a message from you. He’d trail after you like a lost puppy, taking advantage of the positive image that he had built for himself and would look at you sadly with his big brown eyes, whenever someone or even you brought up his reputation with the girls.
“Please don’t listen to those rumors … I truly love you so much. So much, it actually hurts me.” Lorenzo brokenly whispers while clutching his chest.
Draco …
… would pamper you with his money – because that is the only love language he knows. He didn’t grow up in a loving, warm household but his parents gave him everything he wanted to compensate for their lack off emotional support. Draco never knew he wanted – no, needed intimacy until he met you. At first, he had been appalled by his feelings for you. You were nothing like the ideal woman his parents expected him to marry one day, but he was lost in your eyes the second you smiled at him – trapped in the warmth that radiated in your orbs. The man completely changed – well, only when it was about you. In the beginning of your relationship, you had to teach him about the other love languages – you had to reassure him, that he didn’t need to spend money on you to express his love. You told him he could touch you, kiss you, hug you and tell you, whenever he wanted or needed something from you. After that, Draco didn’t go a day without hugging you close to his body at least once. He’d kiss you good morning and goodbye, every. Single. Day.
He'd never forget to tell you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were.
“I love you more than I thought I was capable of. My heart is so full. Thank you for being mine.”
Blaise …
… would be – what is nowadays considered as – a simp. He’d go soft for you and only for you. Whatever you want – whatever you need, he’ll get it for you. You want him to straighten or curl your hair? No need to ask twice. You want to apply make-up on his face just for shits and giggles? Anything for his princess – but please don’t take any pictures of him.
Someone looks at you the wrong way and makes you feel uncomfortable? They might go blind soon if they don’t look away asap. Blaise is so infatuated with you, that you wouldn’t even have to ask or mention the idea of a promise ring or matching necklaces – he’d be two steps ahead of you.
“I know it sounds cheesy – but you are the moon of my life. I’d do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours.”
Tom …
… still struggles with showing affection and worries, that it might drive you away. He tries – he really tries hard. Tom Riddle is known for his intelligence, but he soon has to come to terms with the fact that his intelligence won’t help him with romance. He had a lot to learn. When he first started noticing his feelings towards you, he was in complete denial. He outright refused to accept them. He had no time for love. But when another male from his year started flirting with you his resolve to ignore his feelings disappeared into thin air. He couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer – or else he’d have to get rid of many male students and that would not be optimal for his time at Hogwarts. He’d slowly start getting closer to you: Approaching you in the library to help you reach a book from the top shelf, helping you carry your books when one of them fell from your arms. He even had to practically force Snape to assign him as your Potions tutor. You had been intimidated at first, but he slowly grew on you. Tom was very attentive and took mental notes on everything you told him.
Out of respect for you, Tom didn’t want to make use of his legilimency, but he couldn’t help himself. He is still a toxic boy after all.
“I promise to always love you, my love. There is nothing that can stand between us – you are mine forever.”
_
A/N: Feedback and comments are greatly appreciated! ❤️
If you want to support me and my work: https://ko-fi.com/sinsirella
#slytherin boys#draco imagine#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#theodore nott x reader#lorenzo berkshire#blaise zabini#lorenzo berkshire x reader#blaise zabini x reader#toxic slytherin boys#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys headcanons#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire imagine#theodore nott#theo nott x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
TAGS/WARNINGS: gn reader but afab with descriptions of feminine clothing (also katsuki calls you princess like once or twice idk), alcohol consumption, everyone is 24+, shouto is bisexual asf, katsuki and reader are married, reader did not go pro, some mlm action (todobaku content scattered throughout bc i am a god and can make them do whatever i want!!), shouto cucks a little bit, also shouto is a nasty closet perv lol, overstimulation, inappropriate quirk usage, oral (reader receiving), spit roasting, backshots, idk what else i could possibly mention other than this is nothing but filth GENRE: SMUTTTT MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+ ONLY SUMMARY: after a party celebrating their top spot as heroes, shoto gets a little too drunk and has to stay the night with you and your husband, dynamight. shenanigans ensue. a new boyfriend is acquired? WORD COUNT: one million billion (jk it’s 10.4K) 🦊’s A/N: god help me. shoutout XENOVA for the celebration party idea. uhm pt2 maybe if this blows up idk. also this was not proofread bc i’m running out of time and it’s too long. and uhm its not exactly manga-canon bc i think deku deserves to be the no.1 hero idgaf. horikoshi when i catch you. // anyway enjoy lol
it was mina’s idea to hold the party originally, and you who offered to host, since you were the one dating the number two pro hero, dynamight, and had enough space to accompany the old class 1-A. it took a little persuasion from your end to get katsuki on board, but he eventually agreed, despite his bitching about how you two needed to whip this place into shape before anyone dared to set foot into your shared home.
this, of course, meant more work for you in the end since your husband was so terribly busy with work. ….that’s not to say he wasn’t helpful, though; of course not! whenever he wasn’t bone tired from whatever villain attack or whatever there was that day, he was more than happy to help you pick up (well…… that’s how the phrase goes, at least; bakugou himself didn’t mind cleaning with you and helping out around the house, per se, it’s just that he always came off as aggressive in the everything that he did) and really start getting the house ready for the upcoming party this weekend.
when it was all said and done, everything had been dusted and all the floors swept and vacuumed; the pillows on the living room couch had been fluffed and the kitchen counters were wiped down and had been bleached in preparation for the day you were about to spend in the kitchen cooking for this party. at least katsuki was there to help you with this the most out of all the other chores — and it was really the most time consuming one, too, so his help here was greater than he realized. him being an actually good cook just so happened to be an extra, heaven-sent bonus.
despite this, you had actually gone out of your way to prepare three main courses: (cold) soba, katsudon, and then something on the spicier side for your husband for the top three heroes you were celebrating tonight, along with some appetizers and snacks, of course.
finally, the day of the party was upon you, and you finished running your last couple of errands (namely stocking up on alcohol) right as ashido and the rest of the girls arrived in a limo. …..guess yaomomo went all out, huh? well, it's not like you could exactly blame her—it had been years since you had All been together due to everyone being busy with their own work, even now there were a few who couldn't make it, like satou and koji, or mezou and fumikage, due to circumstances out of their control. it was a shame really, you would have loved to have some of rikido’s sweets since he was such a good baker. ah, must not have been meant to be then. no use in dwelling on it. especially when everyone was beginning to pull up!
“eeee, my pookie! how have you been!? how’s life with baku—no, dynamight?!” mina eagerly squeals as she runs towards you, arms extended and ready to grip you in a crushing hug.
“ackgh–! too tight, too tight–!” you choke out as she squeezes you half to death.
“oh, sorry!” she apologizes, letting go and backing up slightly as the rest of the old 1-A girls come up behind her and the limo driver drives back to yaoyorozu’s manor until it was time to come pick the ladies back up. “now. spill all the tea,” she says, giving you a serious look all of a sudden, and you feel a smile stretch across your face. it’s nice to know she’s just the same as she was in high school.
“well—why don’t you come in and see for yourself?” you gesture to your shared home, to which the girls gawked at in awe. it wasn’t an estate or anything like yaomomo’s place of residence, but it was certainly large enough to accompany everyone attending and then some.
leading them inside, you open the already unlocked door (katsuki was busy in the kitchen aggressively finishing up the fruit platters and charcuterie boards, making sure they were up to his standards before serving them) and led them all in.
“kats, ‘m home! n’ all the girls are here!” you shout loud enough from him to hear you from the foyer.
your husband swears and grumbles under his breath, eyes darting to look at the clock just as it struck 17:00 (that’s 5pm for those of you who don’t use the 24hr format). goddammit, they were perfectly on time. whatever, he was done arranging the meats and cheeses of the charcuteries anyway.
moving to set the trays on the coffee table in the living room for everyone to enjoy, he greets you at the door with the softest little smile ever, one mina just barely catches sight off, which she immediately teases him for and his usual scowl makes a re-appearance in record time as he becomes prickly and sharp again, huffing out a gruff make yourselves at home or whatever.
after that, it was another twenty-ish minutes before nearly everyone else arrived.
shouto, however, was the last to get there due to him getting into an argument with his father prior to leaving. it was a surprise to even himself that he decided to come anyway, but he had grown to be more sociable than he was back in high school, and also he was one of the three people the party was actually being thrown for, so…. it would just be incomplete without him there, and he recognized that.
soon, the party kicked into full swing and the alcohol was excitedly opened and everyone could feel themselves relaxing as it grew closer to dinnertime—which you happily (and tipsily) served to everyone around half past seven.
once everyone had eaten and had time to let their food settle, people began saying their goodbyes as the night grew later and later. all except shouto, that was, who was actively still drinking, sitting on your couch with a bottle of sake in his left hand as he watches everyone else clears out.
“fuck’s he doin’? just sittin’ there,” bakugou grumbles, coming up to stand next to you after seeing eijirou and denki to the door (uptight as he could be, even your husband was capable of relaxing after a drink or two…. or several). he wasn’t… erm, upset with shouto’s prolonged visit, per se, but he was definitely tired and wanted some alone time with his spouse for fuck’s sake.
“be nice, ‘tsuki,” you scold him lightly, moving to walk towards shouto, who had a sleepy look in his eyes, to stand in front of him. “hey, todo, y’okay?” you ask, waving a hand in front of his tired face.
“mmh? ‘m fine.” his words slur together slightly as he refocuses his blurry gaze on you, and for a moment, the number 3 pro hero thinks you look like an angel sent from heaven to take care of him—until katsuki ruins the moment by walking over and saying;
“great, then you can obviously get yourself home!”
“katsuki!” you hiss, looking over to where he stood next to you. “you can stay the night if you need to, shouto,” you tell him softly, squatting down in front of him and placing a hand on each knee to look up at him from almost between his legs — something your husband absolutely did not appreciate.
“hey—” he tries to interject, but the young todoroki had already accepted your kind offer, knowing better than to walk or drive home in his current state.
“relax, kats, he can sleep on the couch if you don’t want him in a guest bedroom—even though that’s what they’re for,” you suggest/remind him.
“i guess,” he huffs, crossing his arms as you finally stand back up.
shouto, meanwhile, moves to stand up from where he sat, swaying a bit before you put both hands on his broad shoulders and force him to sit back down.
“nuh-uh, you sit right there, sir,” you say playfully. “is there something you need?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as katsuki grits his teeth while you tend to that drunk icyhot cunt. (as if he himself wasn’t also wasted).
shouto pauses to think for a moment, thinking about his words carefully before opening his mouth.
“do you have any—” he lags and forgets the word he’s looking for mid-sentence. “uhm. ….unfrozen ice?” he asks, tilting his head partially to the side like a confused creature might.
“oh my god,” bakugou groans at his request as you break out into a fit of giggles. “you fucking mean water?” he asks his fellow pro-hero. god. what a sorry fuckin’ sight he was — can’t-stand-up-drunk on katsuki’s couch, while he forgot a word as basic as water. jesus christ, he cannot believe you offered to let this fool stay here without even asking him if it was okay first. whatever. he’d just have to fuck you so good that that walking peppermint couldn’t sleep at all. yeah, he could totally do that.
“water, yes,” shouto follows up as you have to wipe the tears from your eyes at his drunken words. standing up straight, having doubled over from laughter, you nod and tell him yeah, we have unfrozen ice, and that you’ll get him some.
after you had left the room, though, katsuki huffs loudly and stares down at shouto, who was still seated on the plush sofa.
“listen, todoroki,” he spits out, one hand splaying out in an aggressive manner as his quirk popped off quietly. despite the alcohol in his system, katsuki was still just as…. well, just as aggressive and competitive as always despite the way he had grown more outwardly affectionate (towards you specifically) over the course of the evening.
“i dunno, or care, what you’re trying but just know—” an embarrassing hic cuts him off and his face flushes from more than just the alcohol. suddenly, his big tough guy act drops as his blush reaches the tips of his ears and you come back into the room with two cups of water, handing one off to shouto and the other to your husband.
both men silently and gratefully take the glasses from you, gulping it down before they even realized just how thirsty they were until the cups were empty and they were looking at you, causing you to suddenly feel small under their intense gazes.
“‘ll go—get s’more,” you slur, taking the now empty glasses back from the two men, and also this moment alone to calm your racing heart, and maybe pour yourself another shot. or two. or three. calm down, you’re only alone with the two finest men in the world — one of which you’re married to!! you think to yourself as you begin pouring them another glass from the nice water pitcher you had specifically set out for tonight.
taking the bottle of vodka from its spot on the counter, you look at how much is left and simply decide on drinking straight from the bottle and polishing it off. little did you know, you’d need that liquid courage for later on tonight. before bringing the two well-built men their water, you dispose of the vodka bottle, putting it in the recycling and heading back into the living room.
after a comment from katsuki about how it was getting late, you escort shouto upstairs to a guest bedroom and show him where the bathroom is before excusing yourself to your shared bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind you, just for katsuki to barge in seconds later as you move to the master bathroom to start brushing your teeth.
he joins you shortly after, having discarded his nicer dress shirt and pants in the bedroom’s laundry basket, leaving him far more comfortable in his unfairly flattering black boxer briefs.
“jesus—kats, how are you so fuckin’ fine?” you ask after spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste, and he only chuckles and lets a small smile stretch across his lips.
“dunno—could ask you the same thing, though,” he quips back, grabbing his own toothbrush from the little cup it sat in, running it under the water before putting the toothpaste on it and bringing it up to his already white teeth and scrubbing the night’s grime away.
you giggle at his words, running your toothbrush under the water and giving your teeth a final once over with the brush and scrape your tongue, rinsing it one final time, and then tapping it against the sink’s edge to get some of the excess water out.
finally, you made your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it as you watch your husband finish up in the bathroom before he stalks over to you, an almost predatory look in his eye as he comes to tower over you and you can feel a chill run down your spine as he sizes you up from your spot on the king sized bed.
“katsuki..? what’re you—”
your question is almost immediately cut off as his slightly chapped lips come crashing down against yours as he knocks you back onto the bed and stands between your now spread legs—which quickly wrap around his narrow waist as his large and calloused hands find purchase on your hips.
“mmmfgh,” your hum turns into a moan as you focus on the feeling of your husband’s lips against yours, melting into him as he leans over you, teeth clacking slightly as he tilts his head for a better angle to kiss you at.
“was getting tired of that icyhot bastard,” he grumbles, eyebrows furrowing together as the grip on your hips tighten possessively at the mention of shouto, as if your husband wasn’t the one to bring him up?
his words make you chuckle nonetheless as a smile spreads over your pretty, soon to be kiss-swollen, lips as you lean back on your palms, the bed sinking beneath your weight.
“‘m sorry, tsuki,” you mumble softly before you feel his tongue run over your lower lip, silently begging for entrance to your hot mouth — to which you eagerly granted access to, moaning quietly when he licks into your mouth. he tastes like tequila and spicy udon, and it’s utterly intoxicating (or maybe that was the last of the vodka you’d downed earlier taking effect). “didn’ mean t’invite him withou’ askin’ you,” you slur out, rolling your hips up against his growing erection.
“‘s okay, i guess,” he pants, pulling away only slightly in order to look you in the eyes, letting you know that he really didn’t mind. sure, shouto was quiet and didn’t actually interfere with what he had planned tonight (or so he thought), so he was only mildly annoyed instead of genuinely bothered. besides….. he had left the door partially open after barging into the bedroom on purpose… just in case that walking candy cane happened to overhear and wanted a peak at the show he wouldn’t be allowed to join.
and just like that, your husband’s lips come crashing down against yours yet again, tongue easily seeking out your own and swirling around yours before sucking it into his mouth, humming pleasantly around the wet muscle (he was in a shockingly good mood, actually…. guess he enjoyed the party more than he let on—that and the alcohol was a large factor, too) before pulling off of it with a nasty, wet pop! noise.
“mmh, glad you’re not mad,” you mutter, eyes fluttering open to take a peek at him. and what you saw was downright angelic — a harsh contrast from his usual demeanor and appearance.
“why would i be?” he asks, and you straight up laugh, ruining the moment entirely. “hey–!”
“sorry, ‘m sorry—it’s just—” you wipe a tear from your eye. “you’re usually not so— what’s the word? calm? something like that,” you try explaining to him, a smile gracing your features.
“i’m calm! i’m always calm!” he spits out, raising his voice, sending you into another round of laughter.
“god—i love ya s’much, kats,” you tell him after composing yourself, shifting on the bed so you were leaning against the plush pillows lining the headboard and bakugou eagerly follows after you, moving between your legs, which easily wrapped back around his hips, pulling him closer against you, and he shifted so that he was propping himself up on a forearm, his other hand coming to press against the small of your back, arching it for you as his lips found their way to your neck, where he began to nip at the sensitive skin there.
“you’re pretty great too, i s'pose,” he grins against your flesh before beginning to suck at the junction of your neck and shoulder, determined to leave a mark dark enough to last a week, at least.
“yeah? ‘s good t’hear,” you giggle breathily as he assaults your neck, and one hand comes to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his mysteriously spiky hair (you’ve never once seen him use hair gel—hell, you’ve even searched his entire side of the bathroom because you didn’t believe him when he told you it’s just like that).
it doesn’t take long for bakugou to get fed up with the clothes separating your bare skin from his, desperate to physically feel you against him, and in record time, he has the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips, you’re sitting up slightly, and he’s tugging the fabric the rest of the way off, carelessly throwing it onto the floor.
shouto, meanwhile, lay awake staring at the ceiling in your comfortable guest’s bed, drunkenly reminiscing back to high school, and the crush he didn’t know was a crush he had on you. had he known, he probably would have asked you out sometime in your senior year—instead, he misinterpreted his affections as an intimate friendship with admiration for you and your quirk. what always baffled him, though, is why you would pick katsuki bakugou to love out of all people (not like you really had a choice in the matter…… one day you woke up and realized your supposed hatred for him was, in fact, a bone-deep love that consumed you whole).
with an achy sigh, todoroki sits up and gets up to use the bathroom. after washing his hands and splashing his face with some cool water to sober up at least a little, his ears perk up on the way back to his temporary room. on his way back, however, he happened to catch the faintest echo of a feminine moan, and before he can stop himself, he’s silently stalking down the hall to the master bedroom, where he found the door to be cracked open wide enough for him to get a surprising view of dynamight with his head between your legs and your underwear and dress strewn across the otherwise neat floor.
immediately, his dick twitches to life in his nice dress pants and he nearly groans at the way you moan katsuki’s name so sweetly. god…. that should be me, he thinks to himself enviously as your husband focuses solely on eating you out.
“aa-ahh! mmm, katsuki!” you cry out, both hands coming down in attempt to push his face away from your messy cunt, but to no avail. katsuki offered you no respite as his hot tongue explored your puffy folds as he began to suck on your clit. “katsu—fuck!”
you’re ignorant to the feeling of another pair of eyes on you, too caught up in the feeling of being eaten out, but katsuki isn’t — he feels shouto’s burning gaze, and he can’t help but smirk to himself. so he was right: icyhot couldn’t resist a good show, and boy, was katsuki about to perform.
“hmm?” he hums, one hand resting on your thigh while he uses the forearm of his other arm to keep you from bucking your hips up. he doesn’t exactly care about what it is you’re whining about; he knows you’re fine and he intends to make you cum at least thrice tonight to show off to shouto, who was apparently a giant closeted pervert.
and it was true. shouto was nasty without even realizing it — and that’s not to say he slept around, god no (he was 24 and still a virgin….), he just had fantasies. many of which involved you, and shamefully, on occasion, you and katsuki. it made his cheeks burn to even think about, but he would be a liar if he said he’d never gotten off to the idea of a threesome with you and your husband. jesus, and now, here the opportunity was laid right there in front of him, and what was he doing? slowly starting to palm at his erection and bite his bottom lip as he watches the scene in front of him unfold.
“i— shit–!” you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back as you tug at his hair. “god, just—! slow down!” you whine, and katsuki’s eye twitches.
like in every other aspect in his life, bakugou tended to be rough and aggressive in the bedroom; put simply, you turned him into a feral man—brought out the inner animal in him. he was, as surprising as it may seem to some, a generous lover, however, due to his have to be the best at everything mentality, so, by extension, this included his ability to give and inflict pleasure (mixed with a healthy amount of pain, because, well.. it’s katsuki).
“nah.” blatantly ignoring your request, he pulls his head away from your drooling pussy, the lower half of his face covered in your slick, and blows a cold puff of air against your throbbing slit, causing you to whine out his name as he nips at the fatty skin of your inner thigh—dangerously close to your cunt—sucking and biting until a dark purple mark begins to form. a smirk stretches over his somewhat thin, although plump, lips knowing shouto would never get to litter your body in bruises and hickeys the same way he does.
“mmh—jesus, kats–!” it’s all you can do to whimper as he resumes the disgustingly messy way he was tongue fucking your pussy.
shouto almost groans as he gets harder and harder, almost painfully so, as he watches katsuki fervently eat you out, and suddenly, he wishes it was him between your legs with bakugou watching instead.
as silently as he possibly can, todoroki begins to unbuckle his belt in order to slip a hand past the waistband of both his pants to feel himself through the fabric of his sickeningly tight boxers. he’s careful to bite back what would be any whimpers or quiet moans, knowing it’s so shotover for him if he gets caught.
“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, swallowing thickly as he watches as you’re eaten out until you’re cumming with a loud cry of your husband’s name (shouto pretended it was his name you were calling out), and he goes to turn around to hide in the bedroom you’d so kindly allowed him to stay in to jerk off until he hears—
“y’gonna come out, icyhot, or are ya just gonna stand there like a loser cuck all night?” katsuki lifts his head from between your legs to look at the half-and-half bastard peeping on him and his spouse…… what a fucking freak.
“sh–shouto!?” you squeak, not having noticed his presence until the man you’d married had pointed him out. “wh–what’re you—!” you can’t even think of what to say before he’s trying to apologize and katsuki’s cussing him out—telling him to get his ass in here before he really makes him sorry.
just how drunk was your husband? or shouto for that matter? truthfully, you were probably the most sober person in the room.
slowly, silently, and shamefully, shouto makes his way into your bedroom, where he comes to stand at the foot of the bed with a horribly noticeable tent in his pants. he wants to look down at the floor, but he’s physically incapable of taking his eyes off your naked, sweaty form—and katsuki’s toned back, for that matter. he gulps anxiously as he waits for the perpetually angry blond to inevitably break the ice.
much to his surprise, however, it was you to speak up first, admitting that you didn’t mind shouto’s presence—followed by katsuki sarcastically asking if you wanted him to join, to which your body stiffened and cheeks flushed at the thought.
“what? don’t tell me you like the idea of that half n’ half idiot joinin’ the fun?” a wicked grin stretches over his slick lips as he quirks a brow up at you before shrugging and saying; “fine, just remember: you asked for this.”
“you heard ‘em, todoroki, get the hell over here,” he spits out, and shouto complies immediately—he could not believe what was about to happen and neither could (nor katsuki for that matter).
as he closes the gap between you three, he fumbles with the buttons of his dress shirt before ultimately just ripping it open and shrugging it onto the floor. repeating the same action with his pants, he struggles slightly with the zipper before tugging it down and quickly stepping out of them, nearly tripping in the process—to which katsuki has to stifle a laugh.
shouto feels dizzy and light-headed from how hard he is, and he bites his thick bottom lip as he nervously crawls onto the oversized bed, sitting adjacent to you as he awaits further instructions from the ever-demanding bakugou.
“katsu—”
“shut up,” he says gruffly, one large hand coming up to cover your mouth—he was about to dictate everything that was about to go down. “you—todoroki—listen real fuckin’ closely, because i’m not repeating myself. you can look, but ‘m still deciding if you’re allowed to touch yet—” katsuki directs his attention from him to you and asks; “whaddya think, princess? would y’like that? both of us touchin’ you?” and it’s all you can do to nod, cheeks physically heating up in shame and embarrassment.
“i guess i’ll allow it, then,” he says, moving his hand away from your face so he can manhandle you into a sitting up position, making you straddle his lap and telling shouto to move behind you.
you feel your heartbeat quicken significantly now that you’re naked and sandwiched between two of the hottest men you’ve ever been blessed with the chance to encounter. dear god. take a breath, you’ve got this. …..and that’s why your pussy’s all but drooling right now? you can’t help but roll your bare cunt over your husband’s erection, letting out a delicious little moan in the process, and shouto’s equally large hands hesitantly find purchase on your hips, and you look back over your shoulder as he leans in attempt to kiss you—just to be blocked by katsuki’s hand against his pouty lips.
“i didn’t fuckin’ say you could kiss them,” he hisses. shouto, however, mentally shrugs this off, grabs the angry blond’s wrist to move his hand, and leans in over your shoulder, pressing his chest firmly against your back, in order to—kiss your husband instead????!
holy shit—this is so much hotter than it should be, jesus christ. you’re genuinely ashamed of the way shouto moving to kiss katsuki rather than you turns you on, and you even let a little oh my god slip in awe and horny amazement.
“what the actual fuck, icyhot!?” your husband explodes, trying to shove shouto away from him, but causing you to fall back fully into his lap, where you can feel his boner pressing up against your ass.
“n–no,” you speak up. “d–do it again.” you try your best not to mutter the request, looking between the man who had crushed on you all through high school and the one you’d ended up marrying.
“huh!? have you both lost your fucking minds?!”
“please..? do it for me, ‘tsuki?” you beg as sweetly as you can, a pout tugging at your lips as you did your best kicked puppy eyes. as tough as bakugou acted, deep down, he did, in fact, have a soft spot for you, and would do nearly anything for you—and this, unfortunately, was about to be one of the things he was willing to do. maybe he had the whiskey to thank for his… bravery, but for some reason, the idea of making out with that peppermint bastard really didn’t seem so bad. ….jesus, what is he thinking?
“tch, fine,” he clicks his tongue before he’s suddenly snatching you out of shouto’s lap and bringing you back onto his, where he shifts so his back’s against the headboard and says; “‘f y’can ride me, then sure, ‘ll do whatever you want, sweetheart.”
nodding eagerly, you tug the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his aching cock, where it hits his lower tummy and you impatiently use one hand to line up the angry red tip with your slick entrance before sinking down to the base with ease. you both moan at the feeling and katsuki beckons shouto over after pressing a quick kiss to your shiny lips to remind himself why he was doing this.
shouto’s dick aches enviously, desperately wishing he could feel your heat, but quickly gets over it as his chest presses against your back once again and his lips land against katsuki’s. actually, todoroki was not an experienced kisser—at all, really; he was only copying what he had seen in movies, so he’s a little surprised when the blond’s tongue runs over the seam of his lips and his heterochromatic eyes fly open at the feeling.
katsuki, however, reaches around you to grab shouto’s cheeks, forcing him to part his pretty lips, and he easily slips his tongue past his kiss-swollen lips. meanwhile, shouto’s strong arms wrap around your waist while he allows your husband to explore the inside of his mouth, his face heating up despite the way a chill runs down his spine.
“mmh,” he hums quietly, freezing his tongue in order to give your husband a little surprise—which works very well, seeing as how katsuki pulls away with a heaving gasp.
“what the fuck?” he pants, rolling his hips up into dripping cunt, and you let out a little moan, grinding down against him at the same time, allowing him to brush up against your g-spot while shouto moves to kiss katsuki again, large hands coming up to cup his flushed, tanned cheeks, trying to tilt his head for a better angle as he mimics the way the blond’s tongue had run over the seam of his lips, and is pleasantly surprised when he reluctantly parts his slightly thinner lips for the much calmer man.
jesus christ, you think to yourself, trying to bounce against your husband’s dick to the best of you ability, but groaning in frustration when his absurdly calloused hands come down against your hips to hold you in place.
“mm—’tsuki,” you whine as he wholly focuses on kissing shouto (who was currently living out his wet dream). it’s all you can do to wiggle in place, trying to grind your clit against his neatly trimmed pubic hair, desperate for any kind of friction. meanwhile, shouto’s freezing hand comes up to grope your chest, causing you to let out a quiet yelp at the feeling of him tweaking roughly with your nipple.
poor, poor inexperienced shouto had no gauge or concept of what exactly he was doing, relying on instinct and everything he’d seen in the little porn he had watched; he silently prays he’s acting accordingly and soon his heated left hand is coming up to grab at your other tit.
“sh–shouto!” you moan, almost causing katsuki to pause in his action as a growl leaves his throat—now this just simply would not do, no, no, no. !!!! fuck! his dick twitches inside you as he ruts his hips upwards while holding firmly onto your hips. “je–jesus! katsuki!”
that’s better, he thinks to himself, a smug, self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his plump lips as he tries not to overthink his kiss with todoroki. god. as fucking embarrassing, humiliating, and shameful as it was, …..katsuki absolutley could not deny the fact that he was feeling so, so, so many things right now, things he never would have considered sober, let alone acted on, and now….. now, he was rock fucking hard as he feels the inside of shouto’s mouth, tracing his tongue along the grooves of his blindingly white teeth and inner cheeks before swirling it around his own heated muscle.
he wants to tell shouto he’s not half bad at this when he begins to suck on his tongue—taking him violently by surprise—but can’t bring himself to dole out the praise, not wanting him to get an ego about how well he was managing to keep up.
you can feel your stomach doing flips and your pussy creaming around your husband’s cock as the two men you’re sandwiched between really go at it, and suddenly your mouth feels dry as you let out a low, drawn out whine.
“fuck,” is all you’re able to say as you dig your nails into katsuki’s back while arching your own, with shouto still pinching and tweaking with your poor, erect nipples—his hands were almost at extreme temperatures, and you choke out something about how good it feels, offering the number three hero the praise he needed—something bakugou wasn’t a huge fan of.
half n’ half wants to use his quirk? that’s fine—he can, too!
the next thing you know, your hips feel scorchingly hot and you’re hearing the sound of a very small-scale explosion, and you yelp out your husband’s name, pussy fluttering around his achy length, and you have to bite your lower lip when you feel tears welling up in your eyes from all the stimulation. had you known inviting a drunk shouto to stay the night would lead to this, you would have done it years ago! …because honestly, you were crushing hard on him your freshman year of highschool together—but unfortunately for you, that’s when he had first begun to actually explore his emotions for the first time in his life, leading you to believe you never stood a chance with him.
katsuki, however, while his primary emotion was anger, you could tell something was up with him and his feelings towards you when he stopped yelling at you as much compared to the others. don’t get one wrong, he definitely still shouted at you, because that’s just who he was, but….. it was enough for you and the girls of 1-A to pick up on—something they teased you relentlessly about behind closed doors because nobody ever dared to mention anything in front of bakugou in fear of ruining your chances together (as you see, mina and a few others were die hard shippers while the rest enabled this behavior).
“christ’s sake, katsuki,” you hiss as his quirk repeatedly pops off against your reddening skin and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep yourself grounded enough to scold him. …try to, anyway. “thi— this isn’t a—ahh! fuck!—a compe–titon! jesus!” you moan.
a competition.
that word ring in katsuki’s ears as he pulls away from his kiss with shouto, admittedly a little breathlessly, a smirk stretching over his glossy lips.
“now that’s an idea,” he muses out loud, causing shouto to tilt his head and your eyes to widen. goddammit, you just had to go and open your bigass mouth, didn’t you?
“n–no; whatever you— you’re planning, forget about it,” you say as firmly as you can despite the way your pussy flutters around him.
bakugou clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes at the way you whine out such a ridiculous request.
“mmh, nah,” he grins, hands holding you firmly in place against him, preventing you from even rolling your hips—something you’re quick to bitch about.
“god–dammit!” sometimes you wish your husband wasn’t so goddamn strong—it made it that much easier for him to manhandle you into any position he wanted.
“y’up for a little challenge, icyhot?” katsuki ignores you entirely, focusing his intense gaze onto the slightly younger man.
“...sure,” he nods, albeit a little reluctantly, unsure of what exactly he was agreeing to. he hopes he’ll get a chance to steal a kiss from you, but for now, he figures it best to go along with whatever bakugou was about to suggest.
“whoever can make princess here cum the most in five minutes each can fuck their cunt,” he begins, just for shouto to interrupt him.
“and what of the loser?”
“i was getting there—impatient sonuva bitch….” he mutters the last part under his breath like he wasn’t also an impatient sonuva bitch. “anyway, the loser—in this case, i’m sure it’ll be you, y’fuckin’ virgin cuck—can…. fuck right off and watch,” he finishes, cock twitching deep inside you at his own words. he was absolutely positive he’d win the little proposition he’d struck up, which is why the punishment for the loser was so harsh. when in all reality, if he was feeling kind enough, he’d let you suck shouto off as a consolation prize. ….maybe.
“sounds good to me,” todoroki agrees to bakugou’s conditions, feeling his own dick twitch as he steels his nerves—he was so fucked. in this moment, shouto’s never been more grateful for being a fast learner, as that was his only chance at possibly succeeding in such a task. he wasn’t particularly familiar with the afab body, and so he has to actively recall all the porn he had seen—mind you, he was incredibly picky about what exactly he’s watching—when suddenly an idea strikes him and he’s asking katsuki to move his hands so he can pull you off his cock and reposition you so your back was against the bed.
you and your husband are both confused until shouto’s pushing your thighs apart and nestling between them, icy lips kissing down your body until he reaches the mound of your dripping cunt, and you can’t help but get shy—not because you weren’t used to being eaten out, no (katsuki often ate you out until you couldn’t see straight), it was because you just simply were not expecting that from the inexperienced shouto todoroki! but it’s okay, just take a deep breath and—
“aa–aah! fuck! shouto!” you cry out, caught off guard by the way his full lips wrap around your erect clit and begin suckling on it, his freezing tongue moving to swirl around it as he does. he doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing and is more or less figuring it out as he goes based on your reactions and moans.
katsuki is just as taken aback as you were, but for totally different reasons; this was probably one of the last things he had expected todoroki to do, but, but, but…!!! fuck! he couldn’t even be mad about it either because he was the one who had decided to turn it into a competition. shit. okay, whatever, he’d just work around this.
“nngh–!” one of your hands comes to run through shouto’s split hair, tugging the soft locks gently. “wh–where the fuck did you—aah! hhngh!—learn h–how to do this?” you ask breathlessly, looking down at the man between your legs, and you feel a chill run down your spine and goosebumps erupt over your skin when you realize he’s looking right back at you—staring at you intently, doing his best to gauge all your little reactions, both verbal and physical.
katsuki can’t help but agree with your question, because seriously, where the fuck had he learned this shit!?
all he’s able to do, though, is watch with awe as shouto focuses wholly on his attempt to eat you out — which he was seemingly doing a good job at — as one large and calloused hand subconsciously comes down to jerk himself off slowly, thumb swiping over his bright red, leaky tip, and he hisses out a quiet fuck while your back arches off the bed.
shouto, however, doesn’t answer, in favor of bringing a heated finger down to your slick entrance — gently prodding at it before slipping it in with ease.
“mmmffgh,” you whine as he curls it up slowly, all while sucking on your throbbing clit, and it doesn’t take long for a knot to build up in your lower stomach. “nngh– sh–shouto!”
he simply ignores you as he begins to slip a second finger in—gradually heating them up as he did—and you moan pathetically as your husband watches on in awe, his mouth horribly dry and dick achingly hard, and for a moment, he’s scared he might cum to the sight of another man eating his spouse out—so he intentionally slows his pace to something almost painfully slow to make sure he doesn’t prematurely ejaculate, wanti—no, Needing to cum inside you.
starting to scissor you apart now, you clench around shouto’s burning fingers desperately, whining as his freezing right hand comes up to pinch one of your already stiff nipples.
“nngh–!” it’s not long before you’re cumming with a loud cry of shouto’s name while pulling at his soft hair, back arching deeply off the mattress as katsuki lets out a growl at the sight, already seething with envy….. whatever; he takes in a deep breath to calm himself down and slowly starts to increase the pace at which he’s jerking himself off, groaning softly as he does.
todoroki doesn’t relent in his pace, however, messily eating you out throughout the duration of your orgasm, resulting in you cumming a second time not long after.
“nnngh—’s too much, shouto—” you choke out, pulling at his hair while trying to push him away at the same time. “f–fuck!” it had maybe been two minutes, meaning you had to endure for another three. but how exactly were you meant to do that? with the way he was all but making out with your cunt, you turn your attention to katsuki, pathetically mewling for help—just for him to shut you down! reminding you that you agreed to this and that he knows you can take it.
the most your husband had ever made you cum in one night was four times—a record he was gunning to beat tonight.
by the time shouto’s time was up, he had managed to make you cum three times, on his way to working you up to a fourth, before katsuki’s letting go of his dick and burying his thick fingers in todoroki’s hair, yanking him away from your pulsing heat.
“hey—” shouto pants breathlessly, lower face covered in your slick.
“time’s up, icyhot,” your husband rasps out before asking you how many times you’d cum.
“th– three, but— i need a break before we keep goin’,” you tell him, panting heavily with flushed cheeks and teary eyes.
katsuki simply nods in acknowledgement, untangling his fingers from shouto’s hair as all three of you take this moment to catch your breath. then, after a brief three or so minutes of rest, bakugou’s crawling on top of you as shouto watches on this time, cock leaky and painfully hard as he palms himself through his horribly tight boxers while katsuki kisses you.
“love ya, kats,” you’re able to pant out, and shouto feels his heart break a little; he wishes he could be on the receiving end of those words some day... but for now, he shifts so he’s kneeling on the bed, legs tucked neatly under him with his thighs spread wide enough for his heated left hand to sneak past the waistband of his boxers in order to grope himself.
bakugou smiles against your lips at your words rather than returning them, and his tongue slides out to poke its way into your already open mouth, easily licking over the insides of your cheeks and grooves of your teeth.
as he watches the two of you makeout, todoroki begins to reflect on his kiss with katsuki earlier, and he finds himself yearning to hear those three little words from him, too, or to be able to kiss you as well….. maybe when this is all said and done… maybe he can work up the courage to ask to join your relationship..? or maybe he’d leave early in the morning full of shame…. he isn’t quite sure yet.
“mmngh—” you moan softly as one of katsuki’s large and calloused hands trails down your side, moving to cup your puffy cunt, before two thick fingers easily insert themselves into you without much of a warning—fortunately, you were still soaked from your slick and shouto’s spit from where he’d eaten you out so good, so your husband didn’t meet any resistance when scissoring you apart. “k–katsu–!”
“yeah?” he pants as his cock drools uncomfortably. it’s okay. he’d just have to make you cum four times in five minutes, and—the idea that shouto might beat him at a challenge he proposed due to your fatigue from allowing that icyhot cunt to go first suddenly flashes in his mind, and he’s hardened over with a certain resolve he’d allowed to slip in his overwhelmingly horny state of mind.
“i— ah! hnnngh— ‘m still se–sensitive,” you whine out, arching your back off the bed at the stimulation, and it’s all you can do to pull at his hair when you feel the calloused pad of his thumb press against your swollen, oversensitive clit. as the fingers almost knuckle-deep inside you press into your g-spot, you go crosseyed from the combined feeling of being finger-fucked and having your tongue sucked on (when’d he start doing that!?).
katsuki, however, ignores your weak mewls in favor of kissing you so hard your teeth clack together briefly before he’s tilting his head for a better angle and nipping softly at your tongue, causing you to squeak in surprise.
rolling your hips up and grinding down against his hand, desperate for more fiction, shouto watches on in awe and horny amazement, taking notes on how your body reacted to katsuki, hoping he could imitate his actions, or develop them into his own, next time he got the chance.
soon, though, katsuki’s five minutes come to an end, with you only having cum twice by his doing—something that makes his eye twitch as he realizes that meant icyhot would get to fuck your cunt. ….goddammit! he’d gotten too caught up in the feeling of your lips against his to focus fully on fingering you! sure, he was just about to bring you to your third orgasm–but! oh, this so wasn’t fair! if only he’d gone first! then you wouldn’t have been so worn out!
shit. with a sigh, he pulls away from your body as his eye begins twitching and he looks over to shouto—who currently had his hand wrapped around his cock—and lets out a huff.
“there’s no way i’m letting him fuck you,” he grunts out, crossing his muscular arms.
“kats, that’s not— ‘s’not fair,” you chide him, panting heavily and sitting up on your forearms. “you said— said the winner—” your cheeks flush as you remember the words he’d used and you shake your head to clear the thought from your mind. “...could fuck me—you wouldn’t wanna go back on your word, would you?”
shouto’s heart rate increases as you stick up for him, and he feels the extra blood circulating throughout his body go straight to his throbbing dick as his eyes light up with hope—never in a million years would he think he’d get the chance to have sex with you!
“mm, …fine,” katsuki agrees, salty he’d lost at his own competition, but willing to do whatever to make you happy, so… he almost retches a little at the thought and he feels his heart break in his chest ever so slightly, but… if staying true to his word and letting that half n’ half bastard fuck you would make you happy, then…. he guesses he can let it slide…
with that, shouto’s shifting onto his knees a little more in order to slide his boxers down his well-toned thighs so his pretty cock can slap against his lower tummy and he’s quick to grab you by the hips, pulling you towards him before katsuki’s words cause him to pause.
“not so fast, icyhot, if you’re gonna fuck ‘em, then they can at least suck me off while you do,” he growls, moving so that he’s behind you and then manhandling out of shouto’s grasp so that you were facing him. “get on all fours, sweetheart,” he instructs you, and you obey with a nod, presenting shouto with your ass and drooling cunt and he swallows thickly at the sight.
his hands plant themselves on your hips once more and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips—you were glad shouto would at least get a chance to enjoy himself, as you’re sure he probably doesn’t have many good stress relievers, if any at all…
with that in mind, you make sure to arch your back nicely for the man on his knees behind you as you take your husband’s dick in one hand while supporting your weight with the other and press a little kiss to the bright red tip before slowly taking it into your hot mouth.
katsuki hisses out a groan at the feeling of you hollowing your cheeks as you gradually take him down to almost the base, your hand wrapped around what doesn’t currently fit in your mouth, and swallow thickly around him.
“shit—” a hand is quick to bury itself in your hair to guide your pace as shouto’s jaw slackens in the slightest before he gets a grip and starts to align his swollen and leaky tip with your creamy pussy, moaning much louder than he was expecting to at the feeling of your warm, gummy walls wrapped around his virgin cock. suddenly, whatever metaphorical grip he did have immediately slips away from him as his physical grip tightens to an almost painful extent, and you’re sure he’ll leave bruises in the shapes of his fingertips—similar to the way your husband so often does.
“aa–aah! fuck!” todoroki whines as he takes his time bottoming out—biting his tongue as he pushes into you almost agonizingly slow, causing you to moan around your husband’s dick, resulting in him pushing your head down further against him and your pussy to flutter around the poor, overwhelmed shouto.
you nearly gag as his mushroom-headed tip hits the back of your throat, but are able to suppress your reflex to do so well enough to remove your hand from around him while you focus on breathing through your nose as you take him down to the base, until your face is flush against his pelvis, light blond pubes tickling your nostrils slightly.
you try to stay that way for as long as possible, swallowing around him continuously to fight your own gag reflex rather than out of consideration of his pleasure, but it’s only been a few seconds when you’re fighting against his strong palm to come up for air.
after pulling off him with a disgustingly wet pop! and panting heavily, you make the suggestion that the two should kiss again — arguing that if your husband is just gonna offer your pussy to be fucked without asking you, then the least he could do was makeout with the man balls deep inside you.
“what?” katsuki barks out, looking down at you, with your head between his thighs.
“please, ‘tsuki?” you ask nicely, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
shouto wants to join in with your pleading—to ask katsuki for a kiss, too, but he knows better, knows your husband will begrudgingly cave to your demands and that he’ll ultimately receive another kiss.
“tsk… fine—c’mere, icyhot,” he grunts, one hand pushing your head back down onto his dick as the other reaches for shouto. both men lean over you in order to lock lips, and the younger one can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips as he gets what he wants.
todoroki’s hips press flush against your ass as he leans over your sweaty, overstimulated body to makeout with your husband. god, you weren’t, like, …a fujoshi or anything, but…. something about the idea of katsuki and shouto going at it in particular had your stomach in knots and cunt clamping down snugly around shouto’s girth.
“jesus—” the half and half man pants at the feeling of your pussy, and he honestly doesn’t know how he’s managed to go this long without it. ….or if he’ll be able to live without yours specifically from here on out…… okay, it’s decided. he’d ask to join your relationship, somehow, when this was all said and done, but for now he isn’t sure whether to focus on his kiss with katsuki or the feeling of his dick throbbing almost painfully inside you.
ultimately, his attention is drawn to the way bakugou nips harshly at his lower lip—enough to draw a small amount of blood—and a moan gets caught in shouto’s throat, coming out as something more akin to a whimper instead; something that certainly makes katsuki’s ears perk up. had todoroki just fuckin’ whimpered from something he had done? for a reason other than getting pussy for the first time in his stupid virgin life? needless to say, it quickly goes to bakugou’s ego as he begins sucking on shouto’s lower lip, tongue swiping over it quickly at first, and then a second time that was considerably slower and more teasing in nature.
poor shouto can feel himself going cross-eyed as he ruts into you sloppily, heavy balls smacking against your clit, and he knows he won’t last long like this at all. he’s kinda bummed he can’t …make love to you the way he would prefer, but right now, he doesn’t find himself picky at all—just grateful to be a part of this entire thing, even if he may not get the chance again in the future. that’s why it was critical for him to be present in the moment, literally drooling from how good he feels, as he uses his quirk on his tongue while swirling it around katsuki’s, the now freezing muscle licking over the insides of his cheeks and grooves of his teeth, sending a chill down your husband’s spine.
the saliva being exchanged between the two begins to dribble out from the corners of their mouths and drip down their chins and onto your arched back. holy shit. you nearly choke on katsuki’s dick at the feeling of their spit rolling down your spine and you moan in both disgust and twisted pleasure.
“nnmgh,” you moan, tongue pressed flat against the underside of his dick as shouto drills into you. now it’s you who finds themselves drooling profusely, your spit running down katsuki’s cock, soaking his balls.
the blond can feel himself throbbing down your throat and he groans from the combined stimulation of you blowing him and shouto’s icy tongue—he’s close and he knows it. …meaning that half and half whore was definitely about to cum, with the way your pussy is surely milking him for all he’s worth.
“shouto,” he grunts out, pulling away just enough to tell him that if he’s gonna cum, then he has to pull out—that katsuki was the only one allowed to cum inside you.
todoroki was more taken aback by the usage of his first name from bakugou of all people, and it’s all he can do to nod and mumble a quiet yeah.
it’s not much longer before both mean reach their climax around the same time—with shouto pulling out to jerk himself off for a few more seconds and he’s cumming all over your back with a loud cry as your husband cums in your mouth, thick cum spilling down your throat, past your tongue, not even giving you a chance to taste him.
after both men catch their breath, katsuki slowly pulls you off of him as he gazes down at you with a particularly soft look in his eye—or maybe it’s satisfaction, you’re too fucked out to really tell.
“y’okay, princess?” your husband rasps out, grinning to himself at your teary eyes, one hand cupping your cheek, and you blindly lean into his warm touch.
“mmhm,” is all you can hum in response, borderline brain dead from how many times you’d cum tonight—clit still throbbing from the earlier stimulation.
“good….” he directs his attention to shouto, but doesn’t ask him anything, instead looking him up and down, eyes lingering on his dick for a moment longer than he’d like to admit. he quickly redirects his gaze to shouto’s heterochromatic one, and the softest, barely there smile tugs at the corners of his lips. it was so small and brief, one might think they were hallucinating had they seen it, but todoroki catches sight of it, and he wants to say something, but finds himself speechless; so instead, he leans in to kiss your husband again, and, very much to his surprise, he doesn’t immediately recoil. given, he doesn’t lean in to meet him either, but he does kiss him back as you shift to the side, panting heavily while you watch the two muscular and domineering men go at it for the nth time tonight, and you can hardly believe your eyes.
one hand slips down in between your legs as they kiss, rubbing gently at your sensitive bundle of nerves while shouto takes the initiative this time, running his now heated tongue over the seam of katsuki’s lips before licking into his mouth, but moans quietly when the usually angry, but now somewhat calm, blond begins sucking on the hot muscle, one hand coming up to almost cradle the back of shouto’s head as he buries in fingers in his two-toned hair, pulling at it roughly.
“y’know icyhot, you’re really not that bad at this,” he tells him, which is the closest to doling out praise he’ll ever get.
shouto, however, takes this to heart as a soft smile pulls at his lips and suddenly he finds himself cupping katsuki’s face and knocking him onto the bed, clumsily clamoring on top of him, and your jaw genuinely drops at the scene in front of you. holy shit.
“yeah?” shouto breathes from on top of katsuki, who was just as shocked as you were, if not moreso. what the fuck? how the fuck? what was he meant to do? he looks over to you for an idea of where to go with this, and his eyes widen when he sees you touching yourself to the sight of them. …alright, he supposes he can get behind this.
looking back over to shouto, he replies: “sure, ..but i’m better,” and easily manages to flip the pair so that he was on top instead.
“nngh–” you moan as softly, your free hand coming to grope one of your tits, pinching and tweaking with your already erect nipples. you don’t know if you can handle another orgasm, but the sight of the pair in front of each other is simply too hot to not jerk to.
shouto, meanwhile, wraps his arms around katsuki’s neck as he pulls him in for a disgustingly sloppy and heated kiss, lips parting by themselves as he cranes his neck upwards. similarly, he moans as well, tongue already seeking out katsuki’s while you fondle yourself and slowly work yourself up to one final orgasm.
nipping at his lower lip the same way he’d done to shouto earlier, katsuki retaliates by pulling away from the kiss to bite at his neck — even going as far as to suck against a few particular spots, leaving hickeys to bloom in the place of his mouth. for a moment, the idea of jerking shouto off crosses his mind, but that would be going too far for bakugou.
you, however, encourage this behavior, telling them to put on a show for you as you try not to cringe at the feeling of shouto’s cum drying on your bare back.
so, it’s shouto who finds himself reaching for katsuki’s dick without a second thought, and he heats up his hand a bit to tease the poor blond (there is nothing poor about that man…), causing him to hiss in a mix of surprise and pleasure.
“shit—you’d think you would ask someone before just grabbing their dick,” he grunts out, making shouto chuckle a bit at his words.
“sorry,” he says simply, thumb running over the leaky slit of his mushroom-headed tip, and he really, really wishes he could suck him off…… christ. maybe… maybe he should ask? you were the one who told them to put on a show after all..!
shouto ultimately decides against it, though, too embarrassed to do so, and instead settles for jerking katsuki off slowly and with intent.
“nngh–” bakugou nearly whimpers—not that he’d ever actually do something like that, obviously—and he pulls at shouto’s hair, dick still sensitive from the way you’d sucked him off so good a few moments prior.
it doesn’t take too long before katsuki finds himself cumming sooner than he’d like to admit, biting down on shouto’s neck in order to cope with the stimulation from his former classmate and fellow pro-hero.
you, too, find yourself cumming rather quickly, back arching off the mattress as shouto slows his pace to a halt, pulling his hand away and licking katsuki’s cum off it while making full eye contact with him—something that, shamefully, turned both you and the blond on.
you two would have to have a very serious discussion after this about how to move on from here, but for now, the two men turn their focus back to you, finally worn out for the night. katsuki easily shifts to lay next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as shouto moves to get off the bed and go back to his guest room where he’d lay awake for the rest of the night—until he hears you call out for him softly, inviting him to sleep in your bed for the night; something katsuki doesn’t protest against, too tired to do so—and even if he did, his heart wouldn’t be in it. unfortunately, he very much enjoyed his time with the two of you tonight, and might seriously have to entertain your future request of letting shouto join your relationship.
in the meantime, however, shouto abides and comes to lay on the other side of you, flushed and sweaty body pressing against your back as your chest smushes against katsuki’s significantly warmer one, and you’re quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat and shouto’s steady breathing.
return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST | S. TODOROKI M.LIST
#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha x reader#bnha x reader smut#boku no hero academia x reader#mha#my hero academia#mha x reader#shoto todoroki x reader smut#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki#shouto todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki x reader smut#todoroki x reader smut#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader smut#katsuki bakugou x reader smut#bakugou katsuki x reader smut#kinktober#bnha kinktober#kinktober 2024#shouto todoroki#todobaku x reader#todobaku x reader smut#todobaku#bakutodo#admin 🦊
849 notes
·
View notes
Text
Falling for the Enemy- PREVIEW
[OUT NOW]
Synopsis: Caught in a toxic relationship with a manipulative and cheating boyfriend, you find solace in his enemy, Donghyuck. What starts as a vengeful fling turns into something more, and old feelings start to re-surface.
Genre: enemies with benefits?, childhood friends fallout, slice of life, angst, a lot of fighting, fluffy end, SMUT MDNI!!
Warnings: swearing, haechan getting into a fight, helping clean up after a fight, jealousy, having sex while someone is watching, and more (will be stated in the actual fic)
Word Count: estimated 18-20k
Preview Word Count: 2.8k (even the teaser is long wtf)
Release Date: October 5th (Saturday)
Taglist: comment or send an ask :)
A/N: This was requested by one of my lovely anons!! 💚anon I hope you enjoy it. I did stray a little bit off the request because what haechan and yn isn't technically yn cheating but it's still spicy lol.
Marketing would be a fun class if it wasn't for the pain that decided to sit next to you every single class.
"You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend!" Donghyuck's voice cut through the air, his tone filled with disgust.
"Just shut up!" you snapped, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to make things so awkward?
Donghyuck, or Haechan as he insisted on being called now, was someone you hadn't seen in years. You used to be close friends back in middle school, basically best friends. But then life happened, and you had to move away. You two were so young that you couldn't even stay in touch through social media. Only a promise that you two would find each other later on.
Now here you two were, reunited in college, but things were different. Haechan was no longer the sweet boy you once knew. He had turned into an arrogant jerk, who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.
Throughout the class, you couldn't shake off the discomfort of sitting next to Haechan, especially after his rude outburst. But beneath the cocky smirk on his face, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you missed your friend that was long gone.
You would never tell anyone that you missed your childhood friend. Especially not any of your new friends who hate him. Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin all would jump at the chance to wipe that little smirk off his face.
Your best friend Chaeryeong was the only one who knew about your past with him. She's the only person who you could never lie to. She always had your back, so you will always have hers. Even if she hates your boyfriend, Jay.
Well, most of your friends hate your boyfriend... Jaemin has even tried to talk you into breaking up with Jay. But “pussied out” as Chenle would say when he saw you were starting to tear up.
Jay was your first boyfriend. You learned how to deal with all of his flaws…Everyone has flaws so why is it so bad for him to have some…okay a lot of flaws. But he’s sweet to you!
You sat through the rest of the class with clenched fists, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension that clung to the air between you and Haechan. His outburst still echoed in your mind, chewing at you. “You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend”.
Once everyone started to pack their bags, pulling you from your thoughts, you quickly gathered your things, hoping to escape before Haechan could throw another mocking remark your way. But, as expected, he would always be a little shit.
"Running away already?" Haechan’s voice was teasing, but there was something beneath it, something sharp that cut through the cocky tone. "Gonna run back to your little boyfriend."
You spun around, eyes glaring, ready to fire back, but then you caught Haechan's expression. It wasn’t that usual smug grin he always wore. Instead, there was a hint of vulnerability that almost made you stop. Almost. But just like that, it disappeared, and he was back to his old self, smirking like nothing had happened. Typical.
"Maybe you should shut up for once, Donghyuck," you shot back, emphasizing his old name, hoping it would sting.
His smirk faltered. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it. Something about calling him “Donghyuck” felt like a small victory. You were pretty sure the boy you once knew was entirely gone.
You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Haechan behind. As you made your way to the dining hall, you spotted Chenle and Jeno lounging on one of the benches, chatting. Seeing them made you feel more at ease. You needed a distraction. Anything to get your mind off that annoying encounter.
"Y/n! Over here!" Chenle called out, waving his arms dramatically. "Where's Jaemin?."
You shrugged, still shaken by your fight with Haechan. "I haven’t seen him. He’s probably sleeping through his class again."
"Or he got into another fight because of your boyfriend," Jeno added, his eyes holding a seriousness that made your stomach twist. You knew your friends didn’t like Jay, but you wished they could just let it go.
"Can we not do this today," you muttered, dropping your bag next to Chenle and sinking onto the bench. You didn’t have the energy to get into another debate about Jay right now.
Chenle nudged you playfully. "Come on, we’re just looking out for you. You deserve someone better than that guy."
"Yeah, someone who's not a total asshole," Jeno chimed in. "Like, seriously, what do you even see in him?"
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared off into the distance, your thoughts spiraling. It wasn’t just about Jay—it was everything. The awkwardness with Haechan, the tension with your friends, the pressure to hold everything together when you felt like you were starting to unravel.
“He’s sweet…” You trailed off, your words sounding weak even to yourself. Was Jay sweet? Or was that just the version of him you had convinced yourself to see?
Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Sweet? You’re joking, right? The same guy that has to approve your outfits when you go out."
You shot him a look, but he continued, persistent. "I’m serious, Y/n. There’s ‘sweet’ and then there’s whatever Jay’s doing to you. You deserve better."
Jeno, who had been scrolling through his phone, suddenly locked eyes with you. “You think this is what love’s supposed to feel like? Constant stress? Us having to break up fights Jaemin gets into because of Jay? You don’t look happy.”
That last comment stung more than you expected like an arrow hitting its mark. Were you happy? Or had you just grown used to the chaos?
Your silence was telling, and your friends exchanged worried glances. Chenle let out a dramatic sigh and pulled out his phone, probably ready to change the topic, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Jaemin's voice was casual, but when he turned to you, his expression hardened a little bit. “Jay’s looking for you again, Y/n. He’s upset about something."
You felt your stomach drop. Of course, he was upset about something. Jay was always upset about something. And it was always your job to fix it, to calm him down, to make everything right.
Chenle clicked his tongue in disapproval. “See? You can’t even breathe without that guy hovering around. He’s suffocating you.”
Jaemin sat down next to you, his tone softer now. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Y/n. But this… this isn’t normal. It’s not okay.”
You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you. You wanted to defend Jay, to tell them they didn’t understand him the way you did. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth of what they were saying.
“I’ll talk to him,” you muttered, standing up. You didn’t wait for their response as you walked away, feeling their eyes on your back. You knew they were worried, and maybe they had every right to be. But you couldn’t just walk away from Jay. You didn’t know how.
As you made your way toward the campus courtyard, your mind wandered back to the class with Haechan. You couldn’t shake the image of his face when you called him Donghyuck. But you couldn't let it affect you. He probably did it on purpose so you would over think and feel bad.
Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice when Jay appeared in front of you, his face twisted in frustration.
“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, his voice low but harsh. “I’ve been calling you.”
Your stomach turned, and you immediately braced yourself for whatever fight was coming next. "I was in class. What’s wrong?"
Jay let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t tell me you were sitting next to him again." He spoke with clear disapproval, his gaze burning into yours.
“Him?” It took a moment before you realized he meant Haechan. “Jay, it’s just class. The professor didn’t let us pick where we could sit.”
“That’s not the point, Y/n.” He stepped closer, his expression darkening. “I don’t trust that guy, and I don’t like you being around him.”
“Jay, it’s not like that—”
“It better not be,” he cut you off, his voice laced with an edge that made your skin crawl. “He’s a shitty person, he’s just trying to get to me.”
The words hung in the air. You knew Jay had a jealous streak, but this felt different—darker, more possessive. And for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear.
"I—I have to go," you said quickly, your heart pounding as you stepped back. You didn’t wait for Jay to respond. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, moving away from him.
But as you hurried through the campus, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You didn’t know where you were running to—only that you had to get away from yet another fight.
Choosing to buy some coffee, you push open the local café on campus. The familiar chime of the café door was a welcome sound, cutting through the fog of your jumbled thoughts. The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries welcomed you as you stepped inside. You spotted an empty table in the corner and made a beeline for it, craving to be away from everything. You ordered a simple iced latte, hoping the cool drink might calm you down.
As you waited for your coffee, you buried your face in your hands. Why did it always have to feel like this with Jay? Why did every conversation leave you feeling smaller, and more insecure about yourself? Your friends were right but you didn’t know what to do.
But what could you do? You couldn’t just walk away. You loved him… didn’t you?
Before you could spiral any further, the barista called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. You grabbed your coffee and took a seat, letting the ice clink against the cup as you swirled it absently.
The door to the café swung open again, noticing it was Haechan you hid your face with your hands. Not wanting to deal with him again.
He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. For a moment, he hesitated, then made his way over to your table.
“You’re in my spot” he stated, his tone sharp. You stared at him, unsure of what to say.
You hesitated for a moment, did you really want to start a fight right now? “I don’t see your name on it.”
Haechan slid into the seat across from you, leaning back in his chair as if trying to gauge your mood.
“I’ve never seen you here,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”
You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Haechan you were used to—the cocky, arrogant guy who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable. Where is the teasing?
“None of your business,” you muttered, staring into your coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. The last thing you wanted was to bare your soul to Haechan of all people. You didn’t need his pity, and you certainly didn’t need him to insert himself into your problems. He would use any information to torment Jay, which would just start an even bigger fight between you two.
But Haechan wasn’t easily deterred. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not an idiot. You look like a kicked puppy.”
There he goes, mocking you even at your worst. But he caught you off guard by how well he could read you. To most people, you probably look like a tired college student, normal. But for some reason, Haechan could tell there was something wrong.
You shook your head. “Why do you care, Haechan?”
He rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe because it’s not fun to tease you when you’re already miserable.”
You flinched. His words struck deeper than you expected. Did it show that much? Did everyone see it—how exhausted you felt, how tightly you were hurt from trying to keep everything together? You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.
Haechan sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again.
“Haechan.” The barista called out.
Haechan got up and grabbed his drink before asking something you couldn’t make out. You watched him as he left, not sparing you another glance.
You sighed out, of course, he doesn't care. He’s probably high on seeing you this miserable.
But before you could throw yourself another pity party, the cafe doors slam open and a concerned-looking Chaeryeong comes rushing in.
“Y/n!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through the noise of the café as she rushed over to your table, her face a mix of concern and urgency. You barely had time to brace yourself before she slid into the chair across from you, eyes scanning your face for answers.
“What’s going on? Haechan just said you needed me.” Her tone was low but insistent, probably thinking this was a plan made up by Haechan, trying to get under your skin again.
You exhaled slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s… nothing. Just another argument with Jay.”
Chaeryeong frowned, her brows knitting together. "Another argument? Y/n, you’ve been having a lot of those lately."
You shook your head, trying to dismiss her concern. "It’s just a misunderstanding. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan again. He thinks it’s some big deal, but it’s not."
"Jay seriously has issues if he’s getting worked up over something like that." Chaeryeong’s voice was firm, but there was a softness in her eyes like she was trying to tread carefully. "You know this isn’t normal, right?"
You looked down at your iced latte, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt and confusion rise. You loved Jay—at least, you thought you did. But lately, everything felt like a battle, and you were always on the losing side.
"It’s fine," you said weakly, though the words felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. "He’s just... protective."
Chaeryeong let out a sigh, her frustration barely concealed. "Y/n, there’s a difference between being protective and being controlling. I hate seeing you like this. It’s like you’re always walking on eggshells with him."
You didn’t respond, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jay’s jealousy had started to bleed into every part of your life, and it was exhausting.
After a moment of silence, Chaeryeong leaned forward, her voice softer. "You don’t have to keep defending him. I know you care about him, but... is he making you happy?"
That question lingered in the air. Was Jay making you happy? Or were you just holding on to the idea of what you thought love should be?
Before you could answer, Chaeryeong reached out and squeezed your hand. "You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel safe, not stressed out all the time."
You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we switch the topic, I don’t want to talk about this right now," you whispered.
Chaeryeong’s grip tightened on your hand. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just know that you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you."
You nodded, grateful for her support, but still feeling lost in the mess of your emotions. The tall barista came up to your table with a plate of red velvet cookies.
“Um, here you go….” He sat them down on the table in front of you.
“Wait! I didn’t pay for this.”
The barista gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Don't worry about it. They're already paid for." Before you could ask any more questions, he walked away, leaving you and Chaeryeong to exchange confused glances.
Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine the cookies. "Who do you think...?"
You didn’t have to guess for long. So that’s what he was asking the barista. You blinked, processing the moment.
Chaeryeong noticed too, her eyes narrowing. "Did Haechan just... buy you cookies?"
You shrugged, feeling more confused than anything. "I guess?"
Chaeryeong leaned back, a mixture of amusement and suspicion crossing her face. "Weird, right? I thought he was a jerk."
"Yeah... he is," you muttered, still trying to piece together Haechan's sudden act of kindness. It didn’t fit with the person you’d been dealing with all semester.
But for now, you weren’t going to overanalyze it. You had enough on your plate with Jay and the constant pressure you were under. Haechan's behavior, for better or worse, would have to wait.
TBC
#falling for the enemy#haechan#haechan x reader#haechan smut#haechan angst#haechan fluff#nct dream x reader#nct dream#nct dream haechan#haechan nct#nct haechan#haechan x you#haechan x y/n
426 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nerd - Lando Norris
<word count - 4583>
warnings: maths, y/n be y/n-ing, british school boys
As you flashed your bus pass to the man, whose passion certainly wasn't driving a bus packed full of rowdy school children, you took a second to scan your eyes over where you could sit. Every seat had someone sat in it, either glued to their phones or loudly laughing with their friends.
Then, your eyes landed upon a seat. A single seat, on the back row, squashed in the corner. For a moment, you wondered why nobody had occupied it. Most people wanted to sit at the back of the bus, for whatever unknown reason, but everyone who had gotten on before you had taken the liberty to choose any of the other seats.
It quickly became apparent as to why.
Lando Norris and his delinquent group of friends were filling the other 4 seats in the row. That was why nobody wanted to sit with them. If you were being honest with yourself, they weren't that bad, they just liked to poke fun and sometimes took it too far.
WIthout another thought, you trudged up to the back of the bus and slid into the seat. You had probably accidentally whacked him in the head with your bag, but he hadn't said anything, meaning Lando wasn't bothered.
You breathed out a silent sigh of relief as they didn't even glance at you, sitting down and turning your music up so that you couldn't hear their conversations. However, you could still hear them obnoxiously cackling about something, which was slightly annoying, but you dealt with it.
After around ten minutes of the bus trundling along, it juttered to a halt, and you just assumed that you had arrived at one of the final stops before you were getting to school. You noticed people frantically looking out of the windows, and pointing towards the front of the bus.
Even over your headphones, you could hear the chatter growing in volume, and you briefly flicked your eyes away from your phone to see the bonnet of the bus open, and plumes of white smoke floating out of it.
Your peers around you were getting excited to be late for school, but you were slightly panicked since you didn't have anyone who could come and pick you up. The bus company would undoubtedly send another bus, but that was likely to take a long while.
As you shifted in your seat, wanting to get comfortable since you knew you'd be there for some time. You felt your thigh being pressed against someone else's. For a short while, you forgot who it was, until you remembered it was Lando.
You were surprised he wasn't laughing at you, or asking if you had a crush on him because you sat next to him. Him and his friends were those guys. It wasn't that you were complaining, but you were still slightly surprised.
Only fifteen minutes had passed, and people's parents had already arrived to pick their kids up to take them to school. You had decided it would take less time for the replacement bus to come rather than phoning your parents, so you sat tight and waited it out.
It wasn't long before over three quarters of the bus had gone, either having someone pick them up or just walking back home since their stop was only a few minutes back. This just left you, Lando, one of his friends and a load of year sevens.
The small children were all panicking, terrified of being late to class. A few of them were scribbling down homework they were going to do at break, as they frantically emailed teachers, just to let them know where they'd be and how they'd catch up on all of the work that they had missed. They were cheeky little shits, yes, but they were all sweats at heart.
The temperature quickly dropped as more and more people filtered out of the bus and since the heating was off due to the breakdown. You hadn't thought to bring your jacket, since you assumed you'd be inside all day, and the bus was usually warm. You never tended to think about whether the bus would actually arrive at school or not, but nobody really does.
As your eyes scanned the few people still there, you could see their breath fog out in front of them like they were dragons, and then you knew it wasn't just you being a generally cold person. The few year sevens scurried off the bus, all seemingly being picked up by one doting parent.
That left you, Lando, and his friend. They weren't laughing obnoxiously anymore, civilly talking as if they were normal people, which was a refreshing sight to see. It was also a lot easier on the ears. Much to Lando's dismay, his friend's mother eventually pulled up in front of the bus.
To be fair, she offered to take Lando, but he declined as his mum was already coming to get him, so he didn't want to turn her away. It was weird to see Lando be so polite to the kind woman, and to hear him be so considerate towards his mum.
You probably could have guessed he was a mummy's boy, but the typical, boyish Lando didn't seem to have that sort of respect in him. It was nice to see. In the end, you were the last two people left, sat there in a slightly tense silence as neither of you moved to another seat.
You could feel some of the warmth radiating from his body, and that was enough to keep you in your spot. Lando didn't seem to want to move either, as he just stared dead ahead, occasionally checking his phone to see when his mum would get there.
You couldn't tell, but the cogs in his brain were turning. He knew you were in his year, but he couldn't remember if you were in any of his classes. Surely he'd remember, right? Was he really that oblivious to the other people in his lessons?
It was like your name was on the tip of his tongue, like it sat at the forefront of his brain and scurried away whenever he tried to grasp for it. English? No. Physics? No. Fre- Maths. You were in his maths class. You were sat at the front, sandwiched between one of his friends and the wall.
Lando's friend always complained that the teacher always favoured you, and how you should share out some of your brains to the rest of them. It was top set, so that was expected, but he said you should have your own special set.
You always had the best grades in the class, whereas he had the worst, there was just no one better to take the spot in top set. He wanted to say something to you, to try and break the obvious tension that was there, but nothing came to mind. Apart from one of the only things he could associate you with.
"Have, uhm, have you done the maths homework?" he spluttered, and you had to take your headphones out to hear him.
"Sorry?" You asked, looking at him. From a distance, he wasn't hard on the eyes, if you were being honest. But up close, you could see why so many girls in your year were attracted to him. That nervous smile he couldn't hide was something you found charming compared to the cocky grin you always saw plastered on his face.
"Did you do the maths homework, you know, the one due for today?" he repeated with a bit more confidence.
"Yeah, yeah I did. I finished it in class," you nodded, waiting for him to make a snide or snarky comment. But nothing came. Of course you'd done the homework in class, he could've guessed as much. But he saw an opportunity strike for him to finally do well.
"So you're the smart one?" he asked, almost rhetorically. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to see what your reaction would be.
"I guess I am," you shrugged, used to the comments that tended to be made about you.
"Could I see your homework? You know, just to check my answers," he smiled, and it seemed different to the other smirks you'd seen on him. It almost felt sincere, genuine. But, you were talking to Lando Norris, he was a master at being whatever the people around him required him to be.
Around his friends, he was one of the boys. Around girls, he was smooth talking and charming. Around teachers, he was cheeky, but still polite. You couldn't decipher whether this was the actual, true version of Lando, or just another character made for you.
"Yeah, sure, one sec," you smiled, rifling through your bag and producing the crumpled sheets of your maths homework. He did the same, and held both the sheets in either hand to compare what you had written versus what he had.
"Thanks," he mumbled, instantly concentrating on the numbers.
Lando was never normally this concentrated, so that was a change. Well then again, everything about the Lando you were talking to now was starkly different to the one you had seen around the school corridors for nearly five years.
After a short while of Lando scanning over the numbers on the paper, he said something. "Wait, your graph is different to mine," he said, tracing his index finger along the line of your graph and squinting at his own.
"Oh, let me have a look," you said, shuffling closer to him to peer at both graphs.
You felt your cheek brush against the fabric of his blazer arm, and you had to stop yourself from blushing profusely. Something about it made butterflies come alive in your stomach, and then you scolded yourself for it.
"OK, so, you've not plotted against the end point of the of the time, see?" you said, pointing to the interval on the left of the table. "But you're supposed to plot against the midpoint, no?" he asked, looking at you in pure confusion.
"No, because that's assuming you don't have any pieces of data over the midpoint, so by plotting the end point, you're including all the data that could be there," you explained as he slowly nodded along.
"OK, so it's like that?" Lando asked, re-doing his graph.
"Yeah, that's perfect," you said, watching a grateful smile appear on his face.
"Thanks for that, I actually understood what you were on about," he grinned, putting his homework back and handing you your sheet.
"No problem, let me know if you've got any other problems you want help with,"
"I will, thanks," he nodded, sitting back in his seat as he still waited for his mum to pick him up. You both settled back into silence, and you heard the occasional car drive by. You quickly felt the cold nip at your skin again, as you crossed your arms over your chest and hugged yourself.
An engine pulled in front of you, and a car door opened and closed. A woman stepped onto the bus, and you watched a smile appear on his face. "Hey, Mum," he softly said, picking up his bag and walking down the isle of the bus.
"Sweetheart, is someone coming to get you?" his mum's question was directed at you, noticing the last person left on the bus.
"No, I'm just waiting for the spare bus to come," you said, your teeth chattering slightly.
"Well you might as well come with us then," she sweetly smiled, Lando stopping at the open bus doors. You saw the discomfort flash across Lando's face from where you were, and you didn't want to overstep.
"Oh no, it's fine, really. I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience," you declined, shaking your head.
Lando instantly felt bad. He knew you had seen him, and he didn't want to think he didn't want to take you to school. He knew that, by the time you got to school, you'd both be walking into maths together, and late. He didn't want to face the aftermath that his friends would hurl at him, but he could handle it.
He didn't want you to have to face the onslaught of berating words and never ending innuendos that they would undoubtedly make every time they saw you anywhere. "Don't be silly, sweetheart, it's no trouble. You're freezing, come on," she said, ushering you towards her.
She could see you shivering, and she certainly wasn't going to leave you there by yourself. "Lando, have you got your jumper?" she worriedly asked, wrapping her scarf around your neck as you walked to her.
"Yeah, why?" he asked, even if he knew where that was going.
"Give it to the poor girl, she's shivering. What's your name?"
"I'm Y/N," you smiled, wrapping the scarf a little tighter around you.
"Lando, hurry up please," his Mum looked at him, and you could see the hesitancy written all over his face.
"Mum, I-" he tried to reason, even as he dropped his bag to the floor and unzipped it.
"Lando. Now." she sharply instructed, as Lando pulled a dark navy sweater out of his bag.
He threw it to you without a word, as you slipped off you blazer, tugged it over your body, and finally pulled your blazer back on and the scarf back around your neck. You instantly felt better, as Lando's Mum ushered you out of the bus and past Lando towards the car.
Lando walked quickly than the two of you, naturally going to the passenger side door. "Lando, have you forgotten your manners? Y/N will be in the front with me," she said, staring daggers at her son. Lando didn't try to protest, he simply rounded the back of the car and shuffled in behind the driver's seat.
"I don't mind, I can-" you started, but were quickly cut off.
"No, no he's fine in the back. He's just grumpy because he had to rush his maths homework while he had breakfast," she smiled, opening the door for you. You grinned to yourself, finding it funny that he had rushed his homework. No wonder he got it wrong.
It was so much warmer as you sat in the car, and the heated seats were cranked up to the max as she drove the two of you the short, ten minute rest of the way to school. "So Y/N, what's your favourite subject in school?" his Mum asked, trying to make some conversation so the car wasn't silent.
"Maths, a hundred percent. I don't know why, I'm just good with numbers," you explained, as you briefly glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Lando, eyes glued to his phone as he huffed.
"She's the one Max always complains about," he said, not taking his eyes off the device.
"Oh, so you're the maths genius that doesn't share your answers?" she nodded, realising that you were the girl who Lando's best friend had whinged about time after time whenever she mentioned maths.
"He will never learn if he copies," you chuckled, and you saw a small smile tug at the corners of Lando's lips.
"I completely agree," she said, also noticing the small grin on Lando's face. "Is it just maths you're good at, or are there other subjects?" she asked.
"She's the smartest kid in school for a reason," Lando piped up, slotting his phone back into his blazer pocket.
"I'm not good at everything, I didn't do great in the last chemistry test we had," you shook your head.
"Let me guess, you got like... An A and it's not good enough?"
"Well, yeah, but-"
"There you go! An A is great, don't complain. I'm lucky to get a C, and that's only on a really good day," Lando scoffed, envious at your grades.
"But it's annoying because I was only one mark off," you pouted.
"Nerd," Lando jibed, enjoying teasing you. You didn't play the whole 'Lando, stop it! God, you're such a dick' while weakly smacking his shoulder.
"Maybe if you worked harder, you'd get an A," you spat back. His Mum was suppressing a laugh, enjoying listening to your conversation.
"Just you watch, I'll get an A in next week's maths test," he challenged, raising an eyebrow at you. "If you don't get a A*, then you have to do my maths homework for a month," he continued.
"Lando, you have to do your own homework," his Mum chipped in.
"Fine," Lando agreed, but you knew his prize was still on the table.
"What do I get if I do get an A*?" you queried.
"You always get a A*, you don't get something for it," he said, but he knew you wouldn't let him off that easily.
"If I get an A*, you have to do my DT workshop stuff for two weeks," you said, not wanting to do any of it.
"Yeah, deal," Lando agreed, glad you hadn't asked for anything more than that. Now that he thought about it, he remembered the look of despair on your face every now and then in DT. It was weird, before, he couldn't even put a name to your face, but now he was recounting different times you had somehow made an imprint in his memory bank that was worth recalling.
"Y/N, can you make sure Lando goes straight to maths with you? I don't want another phone call saying he's been wandering the corridors," she sternly said, looking at Lando in the rear-view mirror.
"I can do that, sure. Thank you for the ride, Mrs Norris, I really appreciate it," you smiled.
"No problem sweetheart, it's been a pleasure to talk to you," she sincerely said as the two of you clambered out of the car. You slung your bag over your back at you and Lando walked towards the entrance of your school.
"Oh, your scarf!" You exclaimed, opening the car door, tugging it off your neck, and putting it on the seat. "Thanks for letting me borrow it,"
Lando had waited for you, which you didn't expect him to do. As you signed in and silently walked through the halls, it was weird for everything to be so silent. You walked by class rooms full of kids, before standing outside of yours.
"You're still doing my homework for a month if I get an A," was the last thing he said, before opening the door and apologising to your teacher due to your lateness. The pair of you went to sit down in your seats.
Once you had your books out, your teacher set the class of on a task. She came up to you and whispered, "Y/N, jumper off,"
"Oh yeah, sorry," you scrambled, shrugging your blazer off and pulling Lando's jumper off and over your head. You turned to the side slightly as you put it in your bag, and you could see Lando watching you out of the corner of your eye.
You wanted to get it put away as quickly as you possibly could to avoid people recognising the garment. "Wait a sec, is that Lando's jumper?" Max piped up. The room was silent, before he disrupted that.
"I- Uhm, yeah," you quickly rambled, focusing your eyes on the page as you wanted him to ignore.
"First you come in late, now you're wearing his jumper, tut tut. Wouldn't have thought that that was your type of business Y/N, but the shy, nerdy girls are always the nastiest in the movies, so I can't blame him," Max teased, and you couldn't look at him.
You didn't want to be at the center of the barrage that was coming your way. Even Lando was caught off guard. He didn't imagine Max would notice, since he was never the most observant. "The movies are wrong, Max. Not as good at they make it out to be," Lando added, as you briefly looked at him.
He could see the hurt written on your face, and he actually felt bad. You'd never done anything to him, and you were nice to him today. Even his Mum liked you from what he could tell while you were in the car, and now he was here, very clearly hurting your feelings.
"Lando, Max, outside, now!" your teacher snapped, as the two pushed themselves away from the desks and stood outside, ready to be yelled out and receive their detentions. You trained your eyes back on the numbers, but you couldn't concentrate.
For the first time, you couldn't find the solutions, solve the problems. The numbers weren't adding up like you were so used to them doing. What Lando had said truly had you rattled, and you hated it. You shouldn't have cared, but you did.
You figured that the Lando you were talking to was a character, perfectly crafted just to make you be nice to him and to make him look good in front of his mum. He truly didn't care, and the bet he had made to you was only relevant as the words left his mouth, and not a moment after.
Maths went by like a blur, and you rushed out of class so that you could be the first one to the library. No one would disturb you there. Lando and Max hadn't come back into class after your teacher, so you assumed they were sent to isolation for the day.
You didn't even notice they were there as you dashed by. "Oh Lando, harder Lando, yes Lando," Max fake moaned, and you could only look at him with pure disgust.
"Man, just leave it," Lando shook his head, unable to meet your eyes.
"If she wasn't good then why does it matter?" Max asked, and you couldn't help but just stare daggers at him. His words made you feel sick.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You spat, taking a step closer to him. It was like he had unlocked this cage that held back pure rage, and you just wanted to slap him silly.
"How can you stand there and say such vulgar things, when you damn well know that nothing happened? The bus broke down, his mum picked us up, I was cold, so she made him give me the sweater. Not a big deal," you confidently spoke.
Lando had to hide his smile, glad you had stood up for yourself, even if he knew deep down that he should have done it for you, around an hour ago in maths. "Not laughing now, huh Max? Cat got your tongue?" you asked, as the smirk disappeared.
"You're stupid if you think I'd want that pussy's micro-dick anywhere near me anyway," you finally jibed, stabbing your finger in Lando's direction. You walked away, leaving them looking like two goldfishes in a bowl.
Lunch rolled around, and you had taken yourself off to the library, where no one could disturb you. All your friends were at catch-up sessions, and you didn't see any point in going. You'd be able to go on your phone in the library, maybe play some games to pass the time.
As you sat there, eyes glued to the screen that you had propped up behind the book you were 'reading', you noticed someone sit down in front of you. Flicking your eyes up, they paused as you recognised the person.
"What do you want?" you asked, sitting back and folding your arms. Lando's blue eyes didn't have the same, mischievous glint to them anymore, they were dulled out.
"I guess I just wanted to apologise,"
"Mhm?" you hummed, as a way to get him to keep talking.
"I shouldn't have let Max say what he said, that was unfair, and I should have stepped in. I also shouldn't have said what I said, that was also unfair," he continued, watching for your reaction. You were surprised that he was mature enough to come and apologise, let alone take accountability.
"And, just for the record, I might be a pussy, but I don't have a micro-dick," he giggled, clearly unable to contain himself.
"I'll believe that when I see it," you smirked, not realising how that sounded.
"Oh? So that's how you're going to be? Well, don't worry Y/N, you won't have to tell me to go harder," he winked as you turned red.
"Lando!" you shrieked, laughing into your hands, since the librarian was giving you a dirty side-eye.
"I haven't even touched you yet and you're already on it? Calm down, Y/N," he continued, adoring how flustered he was getting you.
You found him rather outrageous, since you had never even kissed a guy, let alone done anything like Lando was suggesting. "Stop it," you giggled, not able to maintain eye contact with him for more than a few seconds.
"OK, OK, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for earlier,"
"Thanks, I appreciate the apology," you sincerely smiled, noticing how Lando hadn't made any effort to get up and leave like you thought he would.
"Our bet is still on, right?" he asked.
"Sure," you nodded, waiting for the maths test to roll around.
"I'll meet you here, we can open our results together, yeah?" you asked.
"Yeah, sounds good," Lando smiled, and you could see the determination in his eyes. He had made up his mind that he was actually going to study for this test, and he was going to make you work for him to do your DT work.
--
"OK, you ready?" Lando smirked as he held the A4 white envelope that held his completed maths test in.
"Yeah, I am," you confidently nodded. Reality was, you already knew your result since your teacher had kept you back after class to congratulate you, but Lando didn't need to know that.
You enjoyed that he was having fun with this whole thing, and you didn't want to ruin that for him. "Let's do it," he breathed, really hoping for a good mark. He had worked really hard by studying a lot for this test, and he genuinely thought he had done well.
You slowly ripped open the envelope, while Lando tore his open and yanked his test of out its concealment. "I got an A! I actually got an A!" He squealed, using all the strength he had not to jump out of the chair and start leaping for joy.
He kept looking at the big red A, with a 'Super job, Lando!' scrawled on the front by your teacher. "Oh my god, well done! That's so good!" you congratulated, the genuine smile of pure glee on his face was one of the most endearing things you had ever seen.
Now he realised why you always studied so hard. That feeling of doing well and having your hard work pay off was wonderful, and he definitely wanted to do it again. "What did you get?" he asked, and he could tell by the smug smile on your face that you had also won your side of the bet.
You didn't say anything, just tossed the paper in front of him. Lando couldn't help but grin at your result, and he couldn't tell whether he was supposed to be happy for you, or annoyed. The big A* beside the 100% was something he could only dream of, but he knew you were happy.
He sighed as he smiled at you, secretly glad he'd be doing your DT and you'd be doing his maths. It meant he'd get to spend more time with you. All he could say was one single word, with a smirk, "Nerd."
A/N - It is back to school season people! I wrote this allllll the way back in December, but I never actually got around to posting it and I actually really like it so I don't know why I didn't. Thank y'all for the love on Carlos' birthday post, I haven't gotten that reception in a long time! If you could give this a reblog, it would be greatly appreciated, and have a wonderful day/night. Love y'all! 💖
|masterlist|
#f1#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagines#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 x you#fluff#f1 x y/n#formula 1 x y/n#lando norris#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris imagines#ln4#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagines
747 notes
·
View notes
Text
a touch that never hurts | fred g. weasley
summary: you seem to have fallen for your best friend, which you could handle if only he didn’t constantly touch you word count: 3.2k masterlist
It was official: you were stupid.
Only a complete idiot would fall for their best mate and here you’ve gone and done it. Because there was no other explanation for this feeling in your stomach as you looked across the Great Hall and watched Fred Weasley tell some stupid joke to his friends and wishing nothing more than to be the one he told the joke to.
He wasn’t even supposed to be here; just earlier today, Snape had given him detention.
While working on the assigned potion, he decided to mix things up to make you laugh after your bad day.
Before class started Snape decided to ruin the day and give everyone’s essays back. You flunked. Hard. After a big explosion and an awful lecture from Snape, any of Fred’s afternoon plans were ruined. For you.
You stood there, frozen in shock, trying to figure out how to go on with your life from here.
But how could you? This realization felt like the worst thing that’s ever happened to you—right after becoming friends with Fred Weasley himself.
You must’ve stood frozen in place for too long because he caught your eye and was now waving you over with his typical charming smile while the people around him were continuing their conversation, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. You briefly considered turning around and running away, but you decided against it. That would make this situation even more awkward than it already was.
Taking a deep breath and mustering a wobbly smile, you made your way over to the Gryffindor table. You exchanged greetings with your friends and headed toward a seat, hoping to get as far away from Fred as you could. But, of course, Fred had other plans. With a grin, he shoved Lee aside and proudly declared the seat next to him as free.
Bloody hell, he was making it hard for you. It’s as if he knew and wanted to torture you now that you had finally realized your true feelings. Feelings that didn’t actually exist; denial was your new best friend.
With no other choice, other than making this one hell of an uncomfortable situation for everyone, you reluctantly sat down next to him, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible.
But to no avail. As soon as you sat down Fred swung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “Thank Merlin you’re here. Could you be a darling and tell our idiotic friends that Snape does in fact secretly love me and that is the only reason he so often chooses to see me after class?”
‘Darling’ and ‘secretly loves me’, seemed to be the only thing your brain registered, not to mention that arm still wrapped around you. Has he always been this physically affectionate with you? It was hard to remember because Fred was looking at you expectantly as if he were waiting for something and…
Finally, your brain catches up, “Oh, that my dear Fred, is what we call detention. And wouldn't you know it, you're supposed to be there... like right now!" You playfully glanced at your imaginary wristwatch.
You could practically see the second he realized you were right. In a hurry, he jumped up from his seat and snatched the last food from his plate. But there was something important he seemed to have forgotten.
With a grin, you asked him, "Aren't you forgetting something?" Confusion washed over his face as he turned back to the table, searching for what he had missed, not finding anything. After a brief moment, he leaned down and surprised you with a kiss on your cheek. Speechless and mouth agape, you watched as the rest of the table erupted in snickers.
"You git!" you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks burn. "I meant your wand!"
Instead of being flustered like you, Fred found the whole situation hilarious. He joined in laughter with his friends and sent you a playful wink. With a glint in his eye, he swiftly retrieved his wand and innocently exclaimed, "Oops!" before making a speedy exit from the Great Hall.
Still trying to process what just happened, you turned to your friends, hoping they could provide the distraction and peace of mind you desperately needed.
Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, George decided to torture you. With a grin, he leaned in and asked if you've figured it out yet. Your whole body tensed up, and you found yourself desperately wishing for an escape.
In your horrified state, you managed to stammer out a weak, "W-What?" The anticipation of his response hung heavy in the air, and you braced yourself for the worst.
George burst into laughter, which echoed through the Great Hall, making everything feel ten times worse. You couldn’t help but feel exposed, as if your deepest secrets were on display for everyone to see.
Through his laughter, George managed to squeeze out, "Bloody hell. Looks like someone forgot the essay for McGonagall that's due tomorrow."
You breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that he had no idea. How could he? You yourself just figured it out. And you’d do anything to keep it that way. You won’t tell a soul about any of it and just pretend that things were normal.
✧
How naive could you be? How in your right mind could you ever think that keeping this from Fred was a possibility?
He knew you better than you knew yourself.
No matter how hard you tried to keep things like always it just wouldn’t go your way. First everything was completely normal, nothing out of the ordinary. You two would banter and share jokes. But as soon as he touched you in any way you panicked and run away from him.
You hadn’t realized how often he reached for you. It apparently had become like second nature for him.
At first you noticed the small touches, like accidentally bumping shoulders while walking together or him gently tapping your arm to get your attention.
But it was the larger gestures that pushed you to your breaking point, stirring up your traitorous heart even more. Like when he reached out and grabbed your hand in the bustling crowd of students during a visit to Hogsmead.
But the absolute worst was when he would slide in next to you, casually drape his arm around your shoulder and pull you close, all while effortlessly engaging in conversation with someone else. And what made it even more unbearable was that no one seemed to bat an eye. It was as if this physical closeness was an unspoken agreement between the two of you, that no one remembered to inform you about.
But as much as you tried to subtly keep your distance you could tell that Fred knew something was wrong. He saw it in the way you would purposefully choose to sit the furthest away from him even when the seat next to him was unoccupied.
You saw the confusion in his eyes when you started to avoid going to Hogsmead with the excuse of finishing your school work. He knew that this was never something that stopped you from spending time with him or your friends.
Since that first year you met Fred on the train, he’d been a constant presence in your life. You stumbled upon Fred and George pulling a prank on their older brother Percy. Instead of telling on them, you decided to join in on the mischief. As a result, Percy ended up with boils all over his face. From that moment on, you and Fred became inseparable. So, when you suddenly started pulling away without any explanation, it felt like the most awful thing you could do to him.
And you could tell that it was hurting Fred too. He wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve; in fact, quite the opposite. But after all the years you've known him, you were priding yourself on understanding him better than most people in his life. He would never outright admit it, but your actions were causing him pain.
He would extend his hand, reach out, but as soon as he noticed that you turned away from him, he would pull back. In that fleeting moment, you could see the hurt and confusion reflected in his eyes, mirroring the hurt you were experiencing.
He even attempted to talk about it once. Normally, he would rely on laughter to uplift your spirits rather than delve into the realm of emotions. So when he approached you before your class, specifically to ask if you were okay, it created an awkward conversation for the both of you. All you could do was promise him, that if anything was wrong, you’d tell him.
What a lie.
His genuine concern shattered your heart. But it wasn't just him who could sense that something was off. You noticed how your friends would exchange worried glances every time you came up with a new excuse to avoid spending time with Fred.
Being around him became an unbearable risk, fearing that he might somehow discover your true feelings for him. It wasn’t just a simple crush; your feelings ran deeper, more intense.
Every time you witnessed his infectious laughter or his ability to light up the entire room with his jokes, a swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach, consuming you from within. The guilt of keeping such a significant secret from him and the rest of your friends gnawed at you. But the thought of confessing your feelings and potentially jeopardizing everything held you back.
It has gotten to the point where you chose to spend your free time in the library. You knew that he would never step foot inside of it. So this place became your sanctuary.
But you should’ve known better. Fred Weasley may not be an overly emotional person but he was stubborn to no end.
One night after dinner, that ended with you leaving the table as soon as possible and an excuse, truthful this time, to do your unfinished homework you returned to the only place that felt safe from Fred.
There were only a few students left in the library. You grabbed your Charms Book and settled into a quiet corner, hoping to review your homework for Professor Flitwick.
But your silence was soon disturbed by the one person you wanted to avoid. Which was not entirely true.
The situation hurt, but you couldn’t help wanting to see him — even if only from afar.
Fred appeared to be searching for you because the moment your eyes met, he marched over to where you were sitting.
"Back to doing homework, huh?" he asked, glancing at your table.
"Actually, yes," you replied honestly.
“Oi, sod off. I know you mostly just sit here doing nothing — Lee saw you, you know?” he said.
“I don’t know what Lee thinks he saw but that’s not the truth. This is a library. I study,” you argued.
“Listen, I know you’ve been avoiding me. And I have no idea what I could’ve done. You’ve been blowing me off left and right. You’re being pretty obvious and I think it’s time we had this discussion.”
You stared at him, eyes wide open. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I already told you, everything is fine.”
“Come off it! We’ve been friends for years and I know when something’s off. You’ve been avoiding me and you have been for weeks. I’m done pretending like I don’t know that. And things aren’t fine since you won’t tell me what it is. What’s this really about?” his voice was low, but you could feel his anger seeping through.
But you couldn’t tell him; too much was at stake. You’d lose your best friend. Even the thought alone was too much to bear.
“Fred, please. I just… I can’t explain it to you,” you pleaded.
“Why the hell not? I’m your friend!” You appreciated his concern, but his persistence was becoming overwhelming. “If everything truly was fine you wouldn’t be hiding here all the time! What’s going on?” he demanded, clearly just wanting answers, answers you couldn’t give him.
“I really can’t tell you. Please, I’m begging you, let it go.” Keeping this from him was killing you. You felt awful holding this secret from him. Deep inside you entertained the notion that he felt the same, but doubts held you back. It was pain-filled hiding something so important from a person that meant so much to you. You wished that he felt the same way, but fear gripped you tight.
Fred's anger was palpable, evident from the fury etched on his face. Madam Pince was shooting both of you disapproving glances. You secretly hoped that she would kick you out, giving you an excuse to escape this conversation.
“No, I’m not giving up. I deserve answers and I’m not leaving until I get them, understood?” He defiantly took a seat right in front of you.
You remained silent, refusing to speak another word. The more he pushed, the harder it became to keep this from him.
“I’ve got all night. Nowhere else to be,” he stated, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you. Still refusing to speak, you turned your attention back to your essay, hoping he would eventually relent.
After a few minutes, he broke the silence. His voice now calm and his expression blank. No trace of anger or irritation. It almost seemed like he had come to accept the situation.
“Maybe this is for the best. You clearly don’t want to talk to me, so I’ll guess I won’t bother you anymore,” he said in a monotone voice, before he abruptly stood up and started to walk away, not looking back once.
Hot panic was surging through your veins and in an instant you jumped up, to go after him. Realizing that you were about to lose him either way, you took a chance.
“I like you!” The words echoed through the quiet library, their volume seemingly too loud for the stillness around you. He paused in his tracks, but didn't turn around. Unable to see his reaction, you continued, thinking maybe it was better this way, shielded from the potential disgust his face might reveal.
"I like you, and I'm really sorry, okay? I just need some time to sort things out and get over these feelings. I promise, but right now, I can't be around you. Not right now. That's why I've been avoiding you. Please, please don't hate me," with every word, your desperation spilled out, raw and unfiltered, while your eyes began to burn.
As Fred slowly turned around, his expression was unreadable, and it felt like everything was falling apart. Immediate regret was filling you up. Maybe, if you would’ve stayed silent and kept on ignoring what was going on inside of you, there would have been a chance to mend the friendship later on. But now, it felt like it might be too late.
“You like me?” he asked, his voice filled with bewilderment.
“Please, don’t make me say it again,” you pleaded, feeling overwhelmed by the situation.
His expression slowly transformed into a wide smile, "You're not kidding. You actually like me?"
Confused and feeling a sense of panic, you asked, "Why are you smiling at me like that?"
Fred's grin widened, making him look like a complete idiot, "I can't control it. You've just made me the happiest person in the world. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been hoping to hear those words?"
Silence filled the air. Your heart skipped a beat. "What?"
“I like you too, I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he confessed with a soft grin, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
"So, that's why you were always touching me?" you asked, trying to make sense of it all.
He let out a loud laugh, quickly quieted by a stern look from Madam Pince. He sent her an apologetic smile before refocusing on you and speaking in a hushed tone.
"And here I thought I was being smooth about it. I've been trying to let you know for a while now, actually."
“Bloody hell. You mean you felt the same all this time? Why on earth didn't you say anything?" You were in disbelief, feeling like you were in a dream. Maybe you had dozed off while reading about The History and Evolution of Enchantments and Charms Throughout the Ages.
"Well, why didn't you?" he asked.
"You've got me there," you said with a quiet laugh, looking down at the ground. After a moment of silence, you glanced up and saw him smiling softly at you.
"So... what's the plan now?" you asked, seeking some clarity.
"You like me, I like you. It's pretty clear, isn't it?" he responded.
You squinted your eyes at him, still not fully convinced.
"Now I can touch you as much as I want, and you can't escape anymore," he said with a mischievous grin, taking a step closer until he stood right in front of you.
"Oh, Merlin. You're a git," you exclaimed, unable to hold back a laugh. "Why on earth do I like you again?"
“Because I’m just that irresistible, obviously,” he laughed, joining in with you.
You placed your hand on his chest and playfully gave him a nudge. But before you could pull away, he surprised you by grabbing your hand. As you looked down at his hand enveloping yours, he posed a question. "So, about you admitting you like me... do you wanna back that up with a kiss?"
"Mhm, I'll have to think about that," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if you deserve it, to be honest."
He grinned cheekily and retorted, "Oh, I definitely deserve it. What have I ever done to not deserve it?"
“Let’s try and remember. Just last week you-”
As you were about to list all the things he had done, he surprised you again by silencing your words with a passionate kiss. In that moment, your thoughts faded into insignificance, consumed by the intensity of the kiss. His hand gently caressed your cheek, deepening the connection between you. Your emotions were running wild, and it felt as if your body was ablaze.
After a moment or an hour, he pulled back, and you took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. Opening your eyes, you gazed up at him.
"Sorry, I interrupted you. What were you saying?" he asked, his playful tone laced with a hint of mischief.
“I can’t remember,” you murmured, connecting your lips with his once more.
You’d been wrong all along—falling for your best friend might have been the best idea of all.
#fred weasley#fred weasly x reader#fred weasely x y/n#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley fic#weasley#weasley twins#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#imagine#fic#romance#friends to lovers#harry potter fic#fred fic#fanfiction#fanfic#hp fanfic#hp imagine#hp fanfcition
364 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm curious about the dreams Idia was having about the reader.
(reference to this)
nsfw under read-more, minors DNI!
It's quite silly, really. Idia was never one to yearn for the touch, closeness, the affections of a person. He was fine, being alone. It was better this way. He could cope with his games and shows, online groups and friends filling the void. Besides, why would he want to drag another person into the Shroud curse? It already took one person from him, Idia couldn't stand doing it to another as long as it was up to him. Plus, he wasn't exactly prime boyfriend, let alone husband material (perhaps he did that intentionally).
So, Idia wasn't all too worried when he first started becoming friends with you. You were kinda weird, but a friend to introverts like him! Somehow always a wallflower, but always involved in the chaos of overblots and school. But, you were conscientious of his need for space and privacy; Ortho must have said something to you about his eating habits, cause you started bringing food other than chips, soda, and ramen cups for him to eat, like actual meals. You also liked to entertain Ortho, who liked when you drew silly designs on his plating, which is always a plus in Idia's book. You were sweet, like his favorite ramune soda. Despite having abysmal skills in gaming (which he was all too happy to make fun of you for) he liked having you as his support, watching him on the sidelines and being a cute cheerleader. In exchange, Idia lent you an old gaming computer and bullied tutored you in a few of his favorite games so you could be his squishy healer in raids.
But, he was a bit worried when he started feeling something more than platonic things for you. Then, he was exceptionally concerned when, at the first day of spring, Idia started coughing hydrangeas, which he managed to secretly keep under wraps from Ortho for a few weeks. No, he was downright mortified when, during those few weeks, night after night, he started having dreams of you.
They started off innocent at first: you on his lap, head on his shoulder, as he played the latest RPG. You murmured words of encouragement, sleepily nuzzling your head into his. Another, he was in the board game club, where you cheered him on as he won a match against Azul in some luck-based game. Idia remembers giving Azul a smug smirk as you threw your arms around him and pressed kisses into his cheek. He even faintly remembers one where you simply sat with him in class, fingers lacing through his in comfort as he dealt with the anxiety of being out and about.
It wasn't until he was a week in when the dreams, infested with hydrangea bouquets always at the corner of his eye, that he knew he was utterly screwed beyond belief.
It started off sweet, at first. This time, you were with him at Styx, though you looked a few years older and were wearing a similar uniform to his mother. He was wearing the uniform as well, though it more closely resembled his father's. He was now Styx head, and you, his precious little wife. The domestic stuff was fine, it made his heart rate spike up so much that Ortho questioned if he had a nightmare while sleeping, but it was fine he could deal. You did look cute… as you smiled up at him… leaned up to kiss his cheek… and whisper in his ear…
“Idiaaa~ What if I crawled under your desk and sucked you off? Do you think you could stay quiet? You can, can't you? For me~”
It was fuzzy, when he tried to remember it, but Idia remembers the heat pooling in his belly. Your hands trailing down his chest down to his hips. Your lips following after and pressing soft, slow kisses down and down until—
Idia's flames grew into a burning, hot pink as his face is in his hands the following morning. He'd actually gone to bed at a reasonable time (to him anyway, 3 am was reasonable), and woke up with that in his head? How was he supposed to function? How was he supposed to look at you, talk with you, when the last memory he had was a dream of you sucking him off???
It progressively got worse from there. It was a weird mix of erotically domestic scenarios. You, waking up to him in bed before work, riding him as you cooed sweet words. Another of the two of you heavy petting, his hands groping your ass as you curled your body into his, making out in his office before Idia had to run off to a meeting, leaving you pouting and telling him to, “Hurry back to your needy little wifey~” One of you cooking him breakfast in one of his shirts, before he bent you over the kitchen counter, after which you sat on his lap and hand fed him.
The last one that really freaked him out, which led to him further isolating himself until Ortho dragged him out to the nurse, was one where he woke up to you next to him in bed. You smiled the sweetest smile to him, whispering to Idia how much you loved him, moving over to press a trail of kisses from his lips, to his neck, down his chest and abdomen. Idia was anticipating the same follow-up from his first dream, especially as your hands reached to pull his briefs down before a soft whine, followed by a cry, interrupted you.
He had no clue what to think, as you make a surprised noise, smiling at him, as the following words left your mouth: “The baby's awake, guess we'll have to continue this later, huh?” Dream Idia giggled along with you as the two of you shared a kiss, watching as you rolled off the bed to the bassinet that he was just noticing. He watched as you cooed and murmured soft words to the small, blue-flamed haired baby, reaching their tiny hands for you. But it was the next sentence that bolted him from sleep into a dry sweat:
“Say good morning! Say, 'good morning' to your baba, my darling~”
Idia let out a screech as he flailed out of bed, tangled in his sheets. He was coughing up a storm of hydrangeas when Ortho flew in, panicked and already full of concern for Idia's health. It was then Ortho started insisting that Idia visit the infirmary, much to his chargin.
At least you'd never see him like this… right?
#mochi asks#!nsfw#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#idia shroud x reader#twst idia x reader#idia x reader#idia shroud smut#idias so pathetic#a simp if you will#gonna bully him is what imma do
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
♬⋆.˚ 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 — 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠
. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁
. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁
𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: bff!Jisung x fem!reader, friends to lovers
𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut, fluff — 𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄 ⚠︎
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 5.8K — 39 𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 (whoops)
𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap if before you tap it), creampie, Jisung calling reader princess, pretty and baby a lot, bad grammar and spelling as English is not my first language.
𝘼/𝙉: While I normally don't write smut, I had this idea in my head for a while now. I cringed when I wrote this and actually got the ick when I reread my work so I'm just gonna upload it without editing it. This one is for the people who als struggle with what I depicted in this fic. Hopefully, this gives y’all the representation that’s been lacking a bit in the fanfic community. Last note: i’m not accepting requests regarding smut right now. Might do it in the future, might write some fics with smut or I might not. We’ll see.
⤷ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘶𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵.
⋮ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁
. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁
It was a typical Friday night. You were spending the night at your best friend’s house again, explaining a date gone wrong… again. Hey! It’s not your fault that those men can’t make a woman come or hold out longer than three minutes.
After your failed date on Thursday, you texted Jisung immediately after your date left your house. First, he responded, “Are you stupid?”, before explaining how dangerous it is to invite someone over after the first date, especially as a woman in these times.
I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but can you blame yourself? You just wanted to be satisfied by the hands - and other parts - of someone else for once. As much as your vibrators and other toys could please you, they didn’t always leave you satisfied.
And there lies your next problem: no matter how hard you try, you can’t come more than once per session. And you need time after a session, so for you to be busy for so long, it didn’t always give you the mind-blowing orgasms you’ve heard your girlfriends talk about.
It did make you feel a bit insecure, and you started to question if something was wrong with you.
How could it be that you always hear and read about other women having so many intense and mind-blowing orgasms, and you’re lucky if you even get one, one!
And now you’ve ended up on your best friend’s couch, sipping wine and gossiping about your bad date. And maybe you have bad taste in men in general. By now, this was a tradition for the two of you.
Almost every Friday evening, and sometimes night, was spent together. Most of the time, it was just the two of you, but sometimes some friends joined your wine night.
Decompressing after dates, good and bad, was something you’d always done with Jisung since you’d met.
You met Jisung in college. He walked into the classroom you were in, waiting for the lecture to start. Cute was the first thing that came to mind when you saw him with his messy hair and black glasses.
As the room didn’t have a lot of free seats left, Jisung decided to sit next to you. Smiling shyly, he introduced himself before getting his laptop out of his bag.
You introduced yourself as well, and that’s when the conversation slowly started. You learned that this was the first class he had without his other friends who followed the same course.
When the professor walked in and began his lesson, you heard Jisung curse under his breath. “Is everything okay?” You had asked, and concern was clearly shown on your face. He gulped before slowly closing his laptop.
“Eh, well—,” he started, his boba eyes looking at you. “This is not the professor I’m supposed to have for this class right now. So I’m thinking, just a wild guess, that I’m not in the right class.”
You clasped your hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles while shaking your head. “This is an intro to visual art and film,” you said as your giggles escaped. He let out a sigh and pursed his lips. “I’m supposed to be in the intro to musical arts…” Jisung trailed off as he tried to quietly pack his bag.
You watched him try to gather his things as quietly as he could before standing up. His whole body froze when he stood up, and the chair he sat in scraped against the floor like nails on a chalkboard.
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the shy brunette boy with the black-framed glasses. From your seat, you saw a pink blush creeping up his neck and face.
“Is there a reason you’re interrupting my class?”, you heard your professor ask Jisung. He didn’t know what to do and remained frozen in his place.
Your hand covered your mouth again before giggling. Quickly, you whispered to him, “You need to walk out of the classroom now, or you need to sit down.” With his eyes locked on yours, he’d hung his head and sat back down, too embarrassed to move his legs and walk out of the room with all eyes on him.
Shaking your head with a smile, you turned your attention back to the professor. His eyes stayed on your neighbour for a few seconds longer before he continued his lesson. You’d decided to write little notes to Jisung in an attempt to get his mind off of the embarrassing position he was in earlier, and it worked.
During the lecture, you kept passing notes back and forth. Eventually, you wrote down your number, quite bashfully, with the words ‘in case you need a study buddy’.
Jisung took you up on that offer and your little study dates (though you wanted them to be real dates) turned into hang-out sessions, which turned into a beautiful friendship with your best friend.
Yes, you’ve wondered about Jisung. A lot. But you couldn’t blame yourself, he was gorgeous and one of the best people in your life. He was funny, and his personality lit up the whole room. He’d make you feel safe and loved, even if it was just platonic.
But, oh, how you wished it could be more. Hiding your feelings deep inside, locked away in your heart with the key thrown out, you’d continued to build this friendship with him. Having him in your life as your platonic best friend was better than not having him in your life at all.
That led you to this moment. Now, sitting on his couch, you tuck your feet under you. You take another sip — or rather, gulp — of your wine.
“I’m telling you, Ji, it was awful,” you let out as you took another sip. Setting your glass back down on the coffee table in front of you, you take out your phone to search for the message your date had left you.
“He finished in a few minutes and didn’t even bother to help me get off,” you said to Jisung. The latter one rolls his eyes at your statement before adding, “Men.” Giving him a knowing look, you continued.
“He luckily went home soon after, because I just couldn’t stand to be around him any longer,” you said again, frustration clear in your voice. You reach for your wine glass again and take another gulp.
“He messaged me later to say it wasn’t going to work out,” you add, rolling your eyes.
“I had a fun time, but I think it was just a one-time thing for us. We just weren’t vibing on the same level, and your sexual performance was not at the standard I am used to from my bed partners. I wish you all the best.”
At these words, Jisung’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?!” He exclaimed, almost spilling his wine out of surprise and, most of all, shock. “He actually said that?”
You nod vigorously before adding, “I know! As if it were my fault, he couldn’t get me off and lasted only a staggering four minutes.” At that, Jisung let out a snort before shaking his head.
“Maybe you just need to use some toys during sex; it does wonders,” Jisung speaks up after a minute. Your head snaps to his with a questioning look. “What? I do it often with my dates,” he shrugs at you before refilling his glass of wine and topping off yours as well.
“I mean, you don’t have to, of course, if you’re not comfortable with it. But in my personal experience, it feels really good.” Again, the questionable look is back on your face as you stare at him. Not trying to let your thoughts run wild about Jisung using sex toys on his partners or himself.
“Like, there is this magic wand, right? You know what that is, right?” He begins to ramble, you giggle softly and nod. Jisung continued, “Okay, so I know a lot of girls like to use that during masturbating, but also during sex. Maybe you should try that out.”
He wasn’t wrong. You have never tried it out during sex because either your partners didn’t want to try it with you, or you had a one-night stand, so you didn’t have your own toys at hand.
Maybe you should try it out sometime. Hopefully, your next bed partner will be open and willing to try with you.
“Okay, so since we’re already spilling the beans here, I mean, I’ve tried a magic wand on myself before,” Jisung spoke up, still sipping on his wine in between words, letting them sink into your mind. “Really?”
“Yeah, I bought one for myself after the first time trying it. Still use it sometimes,” his eyes back on yours, as if he was telling you the most normal thing in the world while your mind ran wild with the thoughts of Jisung pleasuring himself with a sex toy, as he gave you more information from these images in your head.
“Do you also feel it when you’re inside?” You couldn’t help but ask him, intrigued by the way he’s so casual about this. You feel yourself get a little bit aroused, thinking about using sex toys and your best friend telling you how you could use them.
He nods excitedly and says, “I do, I can’t speak for other men, but I love it. It’s a little bit of extra pleasure on top of the pleasure I’m already feeling.” You nod at his words, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the images of Jisung kept popping up in your head.
“So yes, I definitely recommend that. Maybe it’ll work for you, though.” He is gulping his wine now as he finishes his train of thought about using a magic wand on yourself. Because even though you think he’s so casual about it, Jisung is actually losing his mind.
Yes, you two are best friends, but still. He feels vulnerable with the information he had laid bare, not that you would make fun of him for it. Of course, you wouldn’t do that, ever. But it was a piece of information about himself he’d rather keep to himself.
Why does he have to have a big mouth that speaks before he thinks?
You giggle at the antics of your friend before sipping on your wine again. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the Spotify playlist softly playing in the background. The silence makes you fall back into the train of thought you had before coming over to Jisung’s place.
Maybe it was you that was the problem. You can’t come during sex, and even if you masturbate, you often fail to come more than once. It shouldn’t be that hard to do. Even with a sex toy, right?
Maybe you were broken after all.
Just like your ex had said. And the one before him too. Maybe it was your fault that you couldn’t do something so… so natural? Maybe-
“Hey, where did you go?” You feel Jisung nudge you with his hand. His movement made you snap out of your thoughts. “It’s just-,” you started, looking down at the almost empty glass in your hands.
“Maybe it is me that is the problem y’know. Almost nobody has ever made me cum, let alone cum during sex. Maybe it is me,” you whispered out to Jisung.
The words he heard he could not quite believe, hearing you blame yourself. He wants to let you know it’s okay, and that it works differently for everyone else, as all bodies are different.
Perhaps it is a bit more difficult for you to get that relief after building up pleasure, but it seems like you need someone who would be happy to help you with this journey of discovery. Someone like Jisung.
Jisung would be more than willing to help you, his beautiful best friend. From the moment you’d met, he harboured a small crush on you. It might have started as a small crush, but it grew into so much more. Even though he has all these feelings, it seemed like a romance wasn’t in the cards for you two the last few years.
So like the gentleman and good friend he is, he’d bottled up his feelings and continued to love you as a best friend up close and love you as an admirer from afar.
“It’s valid what you’re feeling about how your body works, but don’t think something is wrong with you,” he reassures you, his voice soft. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just the opening Jisung was waiting for. His words stumble out before his brain can catch on to what is happening.
“I can help you, y’know,” Jisung offers you, his words make you almost choke on the sip of wine you just took. Spluttering your wine out in a not-so-charming way, you try to come up with an answer.
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he continued, setting down his own glass. He subtly scoots closer to you, his hands carefully reaching out to yours. His mind is working in overdrive while his heartbeat speeds up. This newfound adrenaline pushes him to act on the feelings he’s been keeping in for too long.
“Jisung, do you hear yourself? Why— why would you—", you stutter out. Your eyes are finding his, questioning him. His boba eyes just stared back at you and shrugged.
“You’ve been complaining about how no guy can ever satisfy you for so long. I’m just saying, I can help you out.”
Bewildered, you keep staring at your friend, questioning his motives. “And you think you can help me? Really?” You question him out loud. He tuts at your response, shaking his head lightly.
“I’m not trying to stroke my own ego here, really, but most of my bed partners have expressed that I know how to make a girl cum, hard.”
Again, you have thought about it before. Quite a few times, actually, your best friend was gorgeous. Despite the fact that you might not want it because he is still your best friend, it occasionally happens just like that.
Often it was already too late to stop your thoughts and your best friend was starring in your fantasy what helped you come, if it would happen.
“Look, I don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want to do. I just want to help you out. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Y/N. You’re a catch, and everyone is lucky if only you give some of your attention to them. I want to make you realise that you are much more than a hook-up or a few dates.”
His words hang in the air, heavy and charged, but with a hint of excitement. You couldn’t deny the tension that was built up with just a simple statement from Jisung.
I can help you.
He sees your eyes glaze over with lust and his pulse quickens. The words are still swirling through your mind, but your eyes already tell him everything he needs to know. Still, he wants to hear you say it out loud.
“Do you want that too, princess?”
The pet name was rolling off his tongue so easily, that it made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. It also made you wonder what else he could do with his mouth.
Your head already spinning at the thought of what he could possibly do to you, you nod shyly. “Yes, please.”
Scooting closer to you, The side of his body pressed against yours. Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. His hand comes up to your face, holding it carefully while searching your eyes for any doubts or signs of distress. “Please, Ji,” you plead. “Please kiss me.”
The sound of your sultry voice asking — begging him — to kiss you went straight to his dick. Lust clouds his mind, and if he wasn’t out of his mind before, he certainly is now.
With his hand still holding your face tenderly, he pulls you in for a soaring kiss. Feeling his lips on yours makes you dizzy, and lustful.
Your hands wander from his neck to his chest, and you feel the muscles under his black shirt that you love so much on him. His hands start to wander, too. First, you feel his hands skim over your breasts, grabbing the flesh as if his life depended on it. His hands wander further down towards your sweatpants.
With his fingers toying with the waistband of your sweatpants, you feel him move past it. With his hand in your sweatpants, he cups your heat over your panties. You let out a gasp against his mouth, before kissing him deeper than before.
Lightly pressing a finger against your clothed core, your body immediately reacts to his featherlight touch. “So responsive,” he purrs against your mouth, before giving you another soaring, open-mouthed kiss that makes you feel butterflies.
“Jisung, please,” you pleaded with him. “I love it when you beg for me, even though I haven’t really done anything to you yet.” In response to his words, you let out another gasp as he finally pulled your panties aside and dipped his fingers between your folds.
“Hm, so wet already, pretty girl?” He teases you with his words, and with his fingertips.
“I haven’t done anything besides kissing you, and you’re already this wet?” He teases you further. You huff out in frustration and wiggle in his embrace. Your hips bucked up to his hands, just to feel his fingers inside of you, or something — anything.
Capturing your lips in another hot kiss, his fingers finally slip fully into your pussy. He immediately gets to work, and he watches as you let out an erotic gasp. The urge to have his way with you became stronger as he felt you clench around his fingers and your eyes roll back. You clung to him as he pumped his fingers in and out, your slick spreading and making obscene noises along with your moans.
You feel your arousal dripping down as Jisung keeps his fingers working you open. “Fuck, Ji,” you cry out in pleasure. As you hold onto him, your back arches from the couch. Jisung pulls your mouth to his again, swallowing all those pretty, erotic noises coming from you.
“I can’t wait to be inside you, pretty girl,” he says, nipping at your mouth, and down to your neck. It felt like your skin was on fire, everywhere his mouth touched it. Blissed out, you look at him with half-lidded eyes. If him fingering you on his couch feels this amazing already, you couldn’t wait for how it would feel if he finally buries himself in your pussy.
“I really want to use a toy on you and your pretty pussy, show you how it can feel. Make you cum with it.” His vulgar words went straight to your wet core. Taking your bottom lip into your mouth, you bit on it, hard. Nodding your head in response to his words.
Jisung occasionally slips out his fingers to rub your clit. The alternation of feeling his fingers stretch you open and putting pressure on your clit made you whine out in arousal. The pleasure keeps building in your lower belly.
Up, up, up...
But still, not enough to have you see stars and give you that orgasm you’ve been thinking about since Jisung started talking about using sex toys.
Jisung sensing your frustration, slows down the pace of his fingers but still gives enough pressure to feel the pleasure of it. “It’s okay, princess. I’m gonna get you there, don’t worry about it, pretty.”
He slips out his fingers, and the loss of contact makes you whine. His eyes remain on yours as he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them in. His eyes close as he feels the intoxicating, sweet, and tangy taste of your arousal on his tongue. Watching him, you moan at the erotic scene in front of you.
Sliding his fingers out of his mouth with a ‘pop’, he pulls you onto his lap. His eyes were on yours, filled with lust, but also something else you couldn’t decipher yet. His hands wander up your body, and he pulls you to his mouth. His lips capture you in a sweet and heavy kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue.
Making out with him, still aroused, you start to grind your hips down onto his. His hands quickly grab your hips to help you set the pace, as your already wet and sticky panties become even wetter than before.
With your hands gliding through his hair, you grip it as if your life depended on it. And maybe it does feel that way at that moment because being so close and intimate with Jisung makes you feel tingly all over. It felt like you were floating, and even the slightest friction between your heat and his groin let pleasure ripple through your body.
His hands travel to the hem of your shirt and tug it over your head. Letting him help you out of your shirt, he throws it somewhere in the living room, not caring where it landed at this moment.
He’d ridden himself off his shirt, too, as his mouth was back on yours again. As you try to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, he parts from your mouth. Heavy breathing is heard, and he softly pushes you off of him.
Feeling the need to hold you and touch your skin, he did so as he stood up from the couch. With his eyes on yours, he pulls down his sweatpants, leaving him in his boxers, the last a layer restraining his cock.
The outline of his cock already has you drooling. Knowing he’s skilled with his fingers makes you very excited to find out what he could do with his cock. And you will find out soon enough.
Lunging forward again to kiss you and hold you, he’d let you back to his bedroom. His hands pull down your sweatpants as you clumsily step out of them, holding onto his muscular shoulders.
Reaching his bedroom, he pushes the door open. Not wasting time, he gets you onto his bed seconds after stepping into the room. Lustful eyes bore into yours as his fingers teasingly pulled your panties down.
Disregarding your panties over his shoulders, he stares in awe at your body. Spreading your legs with his hands, he looks at your body as if you hung the moon and the stars. Getting flustered, you try to hide yourself from him, even though you have nothing to be ashamed or flustered about.
“Don’t hide pretty,” his voice dripping with sweetness and his mouth watering at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him. “Just one taste,” he murmurs before kissing your clit. He sticks his tongue out and flattened it against your wet hole, rolling back his eyes in pleasure.
Seeing Jisung lose himself and feeling his wet muscle against your aching pussy, pleasure shudders through your body. Your hands are gripping his hair, making him groan against your core. The vibration of his groan, together with him licking up all your arousal and eating you out like a starved man, makes your toes curl and your head dizzy.
The familiar pleasure of your orgasm creeps up again, but it still feels so far out of reach. Jisung kept licking and slurping at your aching pussy, and the feeling intensified, but it never seemed to finally snap.
Bucking your hips out of frustration up to his face, almost riding it, Jisung lets you take the lead. Honestly, he was just happy to be here. With his face between your legs, get used by the prettiest girl who has his whole heart, even if you don’t know it, yet.
Seemingly getting more frustrated by the second, as the tension was fading away and the pressure of your orgasm seemed to lessen, Jisung gave you one more lick before parting. He needs to help you get to your high, and show you that you can do it. And he also couldn’t wait any longer to be inside of you.
Wiping his mouth, he speaks up, “On your knees princess, let me take care of you.” He nods his head to turn around. With heavy eyelids and a lust-filled body, you get up and turn around. Jisung quickly turns to his dresser to get the toy he wants to try on you — the magic wand.
Before you can get on your hands and knees, Jisung’s hands softly push you forward. Your elbows catch your upper body as you feel the mattress dip behind you.
You feel his hands run up and down your body, while he leaves hot kisses all over your spine. He grabs at everything he can, your soft skin feels heavenly in his hands.
Then Jisung grabs his cock at the base and slides it between your wet folds. With his thumb, he spreads out the wetness around the head of his cock, before pumping himself a few times.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess, make you see stars,” he says huskily, as he lines up his cock with your anticipating entrance.
As he eases his cock into you, a twinge of pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure. With your eyes rolling back and your mouth agape, he begins to thrust his hips forward softly before bottoming out. “You good baby?”, he asks while his hands hold you softly. You nod and reply with a muffled hmm before Jisung picks up his pace and starts to pound into you.
The sound of skin slapping on skin mixed with your moans, and his groans fill up his room.
His hands roam over your body, from your ass to your shoulders. The touch of his fingertips makes you feel tingles and adds to the pleasure you already feel. You feel his hands push your shoulders down, so now you lay on the bed with your upper body. Your face is in his pillow, catching all your moans.
Pleasure shudders through your whole body as you feel Jisung filling you even deeper than before. His pace doesn’t falter once. With his hands back at your lower back, he pulls you back on his cock.
“Fuck,” he groans out. You turn your head so you can look over your shoulder, just enough to see Jisung throw his head back while biting his lip. His grip on your sides grows stronger as his thrusts become harder and harder. “You’re so fucking tight, princess.”
“Ji, please, please,” you moan out, your hands trying to grab anything they can to hold you steady. Twisting your upper body just enough so you could see him, you see him smirk. Leaning down to kiss his way up your shoulder blades, his right-hand grabs your hair. He pulls just hard enough to lift your head up from his pillow.
“I wanna hear those pretty moans when you come around my cock, princess,” he says, leaving another burning kiss on the back of your neck. “Turn your toy on and press it against your clit baby,” he says — or rather demanded.
Scrambling up on your elbows, his hips still meet yours with sharp thrusts. He doesn’t stop his brutal pace, instead, he keeps going. You gasp out at his thrusts, and you can barely grab the toy. Fiddling with it, you try to find the button to turn it on while pleasure is still soaring through your body.
Finally finding the button to turn it on, you press it and the toy comes to life. The vibrations are already making you feel jittery. You lean forward on his bed again, getting comfortable on your upper body. Your head to the side, while you took your lower lip between your teeth. With shaky hands, you carefully press the toy to your clit.
The feeling of the vibration mixed with Jisung’s cock filling you up just right made your eyes roll back, and your mouth hang open. Jisung never heard a more pornographic moan and couldn’t believe he was the one making you feel this way—with the help of the beloved magic wand.
It might be the alcohol, or maybe the love you’ve always felt for Jisung, but this is the best feeling you’ve ever felt. When he said he’d take care of you — he meant it.
His hands grip your ass as he keeps thrusting into you at a brutal pace. With furrowed eyebrows, you try to listen to your body. Yes, you feel immense pleasure from both being filled up and the vibrations on your clitoris, but you wonder if the feeling of your orgasm will build up anytime soon.
Jisung feels your body stiffen, just a tiny bit. But it was enough for him to notice you aren’t fully letting yourself go and enjoy the pleasure you feel. Slowing his pace down, it changed to sharper and deeper thrusts instead of just pounding.
“Let go, baby, just enjoy the feeling,” he gritted out. And you try, you let the bliss feeling overcome you. The dragging of his cock against your walls feels heavenly, as you focus on the vibrations the toy gave you.
Hearing his groans and feeling his soft hands gripping you so tight it might bruise the next day, you finally feel that familiar feeling building up.
“What do I need to do for you? Hm?” he huffs out, dragging your body back onto his cock. You moan out in satisfaction of the feeling. “How can I make my princess feel good, hm?” He grunts out, grabbing your hair at the back of your head and lifting your head again so he could bite and suck on your neck.
Your flushed face with your mouth hanging open, letting out little gasps of pleasure, imprints on his retina so that he will never forget this sight of you.
Jisung flooded all your senses. His touch, his mouth on your skin, and his hot breath in your ear grunt out your name over and over again, leaving you with goosebumps.
Grabbing the sheets with your free hand, so hard that your knuckles turned white, you moan out, “Just like that, baby.”
Rolling back your eyes and burying your face into his pillow, you feel yourself drool onto his pillowcase. The tension in your lower tummy is becoming stronger and stronger, and you feel your legs beginning to shake. “Jisung, oh god, please— right there.” Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt so close to the edge, and your orgasm was creeping up on you.
“Let go, pretty girl, come all over my cock. Make you feel so good.” keeping his brutal pace, your orgasm suddenly plummets through you. Shaking and mouth-agape, you moan out Jisung’s name like a mantra in a high-pitched moan.
The feeling of being so full with his cock and the vibrations of your toy intensified your orgasm, creating black spots in your vision.
You squeeze your eyes shut at the intense pleasure you feel throughout your whole body, as if ecstasy is running through your veins.
And all because Jisung suggested using a toy to stimulate your clit as he’d fuck you.
You feel like your prayers had been answered, and you finally had someone making you feel so fucking good, and that being Jisung made this experience even better.
Shit, you think. You might be in love with him.
Jisung fucks you through your intense orgasm. Feeling your walls convulse around his cock while he fucks you through your high, the vibrations bring him closer to his release, too. You’d let him use your body to chase after his own release, your walls clenching around his cock.
“Fuck, where do you want me to cum, baby?” He grits out as he keeps his pace. He had rather seen your beautiful face contort in pleasure when you were brought over the edge, but that would happen another time. After feeling you so tight around him, his body begged him for a release.
“Inside Ji, please come inside of me,” you slur out, still dazed from your orgasm. Fully relaxing your body, you feel Jisung thrust roughly into you a few times more, before groaning loudly in your ear. “Fuck-”, his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as he comes down from his high.
You feel his hot mouth on your back again, leaving soft and gentle kisses while whispering how good you’ve been for him. He caresses your back as he softens and slips out of you. Falling on the mattress, he pulls you close to him, laying on your side. Draping your arm around his chest, you feel your erratic heartbeat calm down.
His release still dripping out of you between your legs, but he doesn’t care if his sheets get stained with it.
“How was that?” Jisung asks you as he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. He is running his hands through your hair, and getting some of the lost, sticky strands of hair out of your face.
You let out a deep breath and look at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. “So good, so, so good, Ji.” At your words, a cocky smile appears on his lips. “I knew I could make you feel good pretty,” he answered as he gave you another kiss on your head.
“Thank you… For doing this,” you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Always, baby, for you always.”
“If you want to try more things, I’m your guy! But preferably, I would be the only one you’d try them with?” Jisung whispers out the last part, causing your heartbeat, which had just finally become a normal pace after this intense high, to speed up again out of anticipation.
“I’d like that idea, only with you. If you would do those things only with me,” you reply softly, as you gaze up at him. His eyes are staring back at you, full of warmth, and this time you can see the love he holds for you in his eyes as well.
Nodding excitingly, Jisung leans forward to capture your lips once again in a sweet but tender kiss. Pulling away, he lets go of you and climbs out of his bed. Whining at the loss of contact, you pout at him. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can cuddle all night long.”
Snuggling back into his bed, you still need some time to process everything that had happened tonight. Who knew that ranting to your best friend about not being able to come during sex turned into the best sex of your life?
You finally feel satisfied. Not only did you finally come during sex, but you also finally have Jisung in more ways than you could ever imagine.
. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁
Ⓒ︎ 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.
#han jisung#jisung#han#han jisung x reader#jisung x reader#han x reader#han jisung x you#jisung x you#han x you#han jisung scenarios#jisung scenarios#han scenarios#han jisung imagines#jisung imagines#han imagines#han jisung fanfic#jisung fanfic#han fanfic#han jisung smut#jisung smut#han smut#han jisung fluff#jisung fluff#han fluff#han jisung skz#jisung skz#han skz#skz#stray kids#skz x reader
364 notes
·
View notes
Text
milk and sugar
pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au part two
word count: 5.1k
summary: “Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one. And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “no.” or - it’s your first date with your alphas.
warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, reader has insecurities, steve and bucky are adorable and caring, steve is very nervous bc he’s a romantic, like it’s almost unbearable how much of a pure puppy he is, bucky is extremely fond and a little teasing (bc of course he is), omegaverse, kissing, there are bits where it’s just steve and bucky
a/n: this fic doesn’t contain smut, however, due to the nature of my blog this is strictly 18+
milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar
‘Good morning, darling.’
That’s the text you received from Bucky at nine that morning - in the group chat he’d made with Steve and you. And while you normally sleep in on Sundays since your studio is closed, you’d woken up early - seven to be exact - due to the anxiety you’ve been feeling ever since your art class ended yesterday.
Truthfully, you didn’t really sleep well anyway. Going on a date with not just one, but two Alphas at the same time has you on edge - though, not in a bad way. No, not at all. These are the good kinds of nerves, the exciting kind.
Well, okay, not all of your nerves are positive. Being naturally shy and reserved has caused you to overthink every single interaction you’ve had with the Alphas, both together and separately. And now that you’re going on this date, you can’t help the way your insecurities come creeping in faster and faster as it gets closer.
Because what if they decide they don’t like you after they actually get the chance to know you? What if they don’t even pay much attention to you and treat this as a date with just them since that must be what they’re more used to? What if you say or do something wrong and they get scared away?
Now, logically, you know those first two outcomes are absurd. Over the past few weeks, they’ve each shown extreme interest in getting to know you, they show how much care they have for you, and oh boy does that knowledge make your heart flutter. It makes you feel good, really good about yourself.
But that last point? Well, that is a big insecurity of yours. As a child, you weren’t that open and didn’t have many friends. And it was hard to make new ones when you would always stutter and trip over yourself, causing many of the kids you’d gone to school with to laugh at you. You were so shy, always the shortest kid in your class which made you an easy target for bullying, especially since you couldn’t hold a conversation well and you’d constantly accidentally bump into someone. It’s honestly a surprise that Tori had stuck around this long.
And, to be completely honest, you think you could deal with them maybe not finding you as interesting as they probably thought, maybe even them telling you that it just wouldn’t work out. Yes, it would hurt for a while, but you would deal with it. However, you absolutely could not live with the Alphas finding you annoying. Because this whole thing already feels like a fever dream, and if you were to fuck it up by doing or saying something embarrassing it would only serve as proof that you aren’t fit for Alphas like them.
It’s nine-fifteen when you respond with ‘good morning :)’
And not even a minute later, Steve texts back. ‘how are you feeling about today?’
Well, isn’t that a good question? Because you want nothing more than to go on this date, you want this to work out so badly that you feel like your heart might burst out of your chest. But, again, those fucking insecurities are messing with your mind.
It’s maybe a few minutes later when you reply with ‘Feeling okay, you guys?’
A bubble pops up at the bottom of the text thread, Bucky typing for a good thirty seconds before it disappears. And it stays like that for another full minute, your heart hammering in your chest as your anxieties are jumping to the worst possible outcome. What if they cancel? What if they-
Your phone screen comes to life when Steve calls you. He’s calling you. And for a moment you want to let it go to voicemail, you don’t want them to hear how nervous you are. But you also don’t want them to think you’re ignoring them, so you answer with a timid, “Hello?”
“Hi, honey,” Steve says calmly, his smooth voice doing a good job of soothing some of your worries.
“Hi!” You hear Bucky yell in the background, causing you to giggle.
“Hi, guys.”
You hear a thud in the background before Bucky yells “Put her on speaker, punk!” And then you can hear both of them clearly, Steve laughing as Bucky huffs in what you assume is a fake annoyance.
“So, uh, I’m just wondering. Um, where are we going today?” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so awkward, for tripping over your words while talking to the two most handsome Alphas you’ve ever met.
“That’s a surprise, honey,” Steve says, the smile on his face is evident in his tone. “Just wear something comfortable.”
“And warm!” Bucky adds, coming closer to the phone. “We don’t need you getting cold, okay?”
The hint of authority in his voice makes your heartbeat pick up speed and the care that’s so evident in just the way he speaks kind of makes you want to cry a little. When was the last time any potential partner showed even these small acts of concern for your well-being? Too long.
“Yes, sir,” You joke, having to bite your lip to keep your smile from widening even further when both Alphas laugh. Butterflies are swirling in your stomach, forming a tornado of anticipation and nerves for the day’s festivities.
“Alright,” Steve says with a hint of laughter. “We’ll let you go get ready and we’ll pick you up in two hours, okay?”
Two hours? That seems like too long yet not long enough. You’ve already showered, all you really need to do is find something to wear and then fix your hair - maybe throw on some mascara. But, still. Two hours seems like the perfect amount of time to have a full-on breakdown over this date. But at least that should also give you some time to recover from said breakdown.
“Yeah, that works!” Internally, you cringe at how eager you sound. Because even though you’re nervous beyond belief, and a tiny part of you wants to cancel the date out of fear of anything embarrassing happening, you don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself if you let these two slip through your fingers without giving it a fighting chance.
“Great,” Bucky says, clearly smiling. “Just send us your address and we’ll be there.”
Once you bid your goodbyes to each other you make sure to send them your address before deciding to freak out over what to wear. Luckily for you, and as though the universe knows you need the help, your doorbell rings soon after. Confused as to who would be at your door this early, you make your way to the door, and when you open it you see Tori standing on the other side with a wide smile.
“Alright, girl,” She says happily, ignoring the incredulous look on your face as she pushes past you to walk into your apartment. “We have to get you ready, where are they taking you?”
“Hello to you too, Tori,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes as you close the door.
“Hey, babe!” Tori grabs your wrist and all but yanks you towards your room, not really caring about the fact that you’re nearly tripping over yourself in an effort to keep up. When you both get to your room she lets go of your arm and heads for your closet.
“So, where are you guys going?”
“I don’t know, they just said to dress warm and comfortable.” Your shoulders shrug, fingers nervously fiddling with each other. You’re not too sure what exactly to wear based on those being the only two requests. Sure, you have plenty of sweaters and jackets and scarves - it’s New York after all - but you don’t know what will impress the Alphas.
You want to impress them so badly. You don’t want them to regret asking you out, and while clothing choices aren’t a ‘make or break’ type of thing it’s still important to you that you look the best you possibly can. After all, anyone who’s seen Steve and Bucky in person would agree that they’re most definitely the two most handsome men to ever exist.
Something soft hitting you in the face knocks you out of your thoughts.
“Hey!” You yelp, looking at the ground to see the thing that hit you - your light brown sweater with a cute graphic of a pumpkin patch on the front. Seconds later, a pair of leggings hit your chest. “Tori!”
Tori simply laughs, then heads to your shoe rack next to the closet door.
“How do you know this will be good for the date?” You ask as you pick up the sweater to inspect it as though you haven’t worn it hundreds of times. But, again, today needs to go perfectly so any stains you might’ve missed would not go down well with you.
“I don’t,” She admits with a shrug of her shoulders. “But that sweater accentuates your boobs and the leggings make your ass look great.”
Your whole body goes hot, the implication of them looking at those parts of your body doesn’t make you shrink away like it normally would, though you can barely stop your insecurities about your body from throwing the items to the side and picking something else to prevent that from happening.
“I-I don’t know, Tori…” You sigh, going over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. “What if they don’t like it? I mean, they’re-”
“Stop it,” Tori says forcefully, walking over to stand in front of you. “You’re beautiful and kind and wonderful and they’re going to love you. And if they don’t, then that’s not your fault. As long as you give it your all, everything will be fine.”
Coming closer, she places her hands on your shoulders so she can shake you a little bit. “I love you, girl. You’re my best friend and I want to see you happy. And it seems like they make you happy, but you make them happy too. I’ve seen it in the way they look at you, how they talk to you. It’s going to be fine, babe. I promise.”
After a long pause where you think over her words, you decide that she’s right - at least about your feelings. You like them so fucking much, so it wouldn’t be fair to them or yourself if you didn’t try your best.
“Okay… Okay, then. Let’s get me ready.”
And with that, Tori smiles brightly, leaning down to squeeze you in a tight hug before releasing you.
____________
It’s a few minutes before eleven when Bucky and Steve park out front of your apartment building. Steve is practically vibrating out of his skin, Bucky even had to convince his mate that he should drive to pick you up since Steve could barely keep his knees from bouncing.
“Baby,” Bucky says, shutting off the engine and twisting in his seat to face Steve. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to just be ourselves and treat her like she deserves, there’s no way she’s going to not like us.”
Steve nods, though he doesn’t look super convinced. It’s clear from how he spent fifteen minutes this morning in the flower shop picking out the perfect bouquet for you that he really, really wants this to work. And even though he doesn’t show it, Bucky knows Steve would be heartbroken if it didn’t. His mate’s always been a softie, and there’s something about you that makes him feel different - better than any other omega ever could.
Bucky knows exactly how he feels. Because, although he’s not as outwardly anxious, he just knows that you’re perfect for them, and he wants to do everything he can to make you see that they can take care of you, they can protect and love you. Your smile and sweet giggle haunt his dreams, his nightmares have long been replaced with his memories of him and Steve - and now you. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to wake up next to you and his Alpha, to cuddle with you two in your nest as you all trade kisses and talk about anything and everything.
“You’re sure?” Steve asks with a timid voice, fiddling with the flowers in his lap. “I - we really like her.”
Bucky sighs, then reaches over the console to place his hand on the back of his mate's neck in a comforting manner. And even though it’s uncomfortable, Bucky leans over and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips.
“I’m sure, Stevie.”
Steve sighs too, leaning forward to kiss Bucky again before pulling back.
“Okay, Buck.”
With that, they both share a small smile and then get out of the car. It’s about a minute-long elevator ride up to your floor, Bucky holding his mate’s free hand the entire way and sending him feelings of calmness through their bond. It works until they get to your front door because now Steve is practically fumbling with the flowers as he figures out the best way to hold them while Bucky knocks.
It’s about a minute later when the door swings open, but it’s not you. It’s Tori with a wide, knowing smirk on her face.
“Hello, boys,” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Those for her?” She nods towards the sunflowers and daisies Steve is holding.
“They are,” Bucky says with a smile of his own. Glancing at Steve to see him nod. “Is she ready?”
“Yes!” You say, quickly running up behind Tori to gently push her to the side and give her a side glare. You’re fiddling with your clothes, tugging at the bottom of the sweater in order to smooth out the fabric.
However, in the Alphas’ eyes, there’s no need for you to do so. Through their bond both of them feel the other go kind of dumb - you always look pretty but today’s outfit just hits them differently. Your eyeliner makes the color of your eyes pop, and the shiny lipgloss makes your lips nearly impossible to not kiss.
They don’t, though. Not yet. The last thing either of them wants to do is make you uncomfortable, especially with Tori standing behind you. So, instead, Bucky smiles and elbows Steve to get him out of his trance.
“Hello, honey,” Bucky says, his smile turning into a smirk when you fail to suppress a squeak.
“H-hi, guys,” You say nervously with a small smile. “Are those for me?” You ask when you notice the flowers in Steve’s hand.
“Oh, um, yes,” Steve stutters ever so slightly, reaching out to hand you the bouquet. “You once said you love Sunflowers.”
____________
“You once said you love Sunflowers.”
Something about this gesture makes you want to tear up. Flowers may not be a big deal to some people, but they mean everything to you. Receiving gifts from partners has been rare for you, so the beauty of the petals and knowing that they’re for you just makes you preen a little bit.
“I do,” You say softly, almost like you can’t believe he remembered. “They’re beautiful, thank you. Really.”
“Just like you,” Steve blurts out before a redness covers his cheeks.
And you absolutely cannot be blamed for the embarrassing squeak you let out. You try being called beautiful by Steve fucking Rogers and not want to bury your face in his neck to inhale his scent.
“Th-thank you,” You say with a giggle, handing the flowers to Tori and giving her a grateful smile as she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek.
“You guys have fun,” She teases, waving you off with a smile. “Treat her well or you’ll have hell to pay.”
“Of course,” Bucky says with an assuring nod. “Wouldn’t treat her with anything but care.” He says this while looking at you though, the twinkle in his eyes making you want to bare your neck to him.
When the door closes behind you, you step closer to the Alphas.
“Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring, though clearly a little anxious. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one.
And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “No.” How can you be nervous now when the feeling of the men’s warm hands on you and their clear concern for your wellbeing makes your heartbeat quicken in anticipation?
“Let’s go?” You ask, face growing warm in slight embarrassment for your enthusiasm.
“Let’s go,” Both Alphas say in unison. And then all of you are off to the truck - a very nicely kept, sleek black truck. Steve opens the back door for you before, to your surprise, sliding in next to you.
“We agreed he could sit in the back with you on the way there as long as I could sit next to you on our way back,” Bucky pipes up at your questioning glance.
Feelings of warmth fill your entire being, and you already know that today is going to be the most fun you’ve had in a while.
____________
It’s about a thirty-five-minute drive before you finally arrive at a park - a beautiful stretch of the greenest grass you’ve ever seen with orange and red-leafed trees surrounding two sides of it. It’s big, but if you look close enough you can make out a trail off to the left. That half hour was, surprisingly to you, filled with pleasant conversation. Now, your previous interactions with the men proved that they were wonderful company, but you’re surprised that you’re not as nervous as you thought you’d be. Everything was moving smoothly, there wasn’t even a single moment of awkward silence.
“We’re here,” Bucky says, pulling into a free parking spot closest to the entrance of the trail. Steve opens the door as Bucky gets out as well and goes around to the back of the truck. And Steve, ever the gentleman, holds your hand as he helps you climb out of the backseat, only letting go when you begin smoothing out your clothes.
“Are we ready?” Bucky appears next to you holding a large blanket and a stereotypical wicker basket.
A small smile forms on your face, and your heartbeat increases ever so slightly. How are they so fucking sweet?
“Yes!” Immediately, your face goes hot, self-conscious of your enthusiasm. But the Alphas don’t seem to mind, in fact, Steve takes the blanket from under Bucky’s arm and tucks it under his own, then grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers together.
“Let’s go then,” Steve says, smiling softly down at you.
With that, the three of you head off to the trail, walking under colorful oak trees that flank both sides of the dirt path. A comfortable silence falls over all of you, only the sounds of birds chirping filling the air. You walk for a few minutes, the leaves crunching under your feet as you take in the beauty surrounding you, your eyes wide with wonder.
The environment is comforting, calm, puts you at ease in a way you don’t normally experience. It’s freeing to feel so content - so happy. It takes about five minutes before you come upon a set of wooden stairs leading down to the most beautiful lake you’ve ever seen. The water is nearly clear, the colorful trees reflecting over the surface, and even though it’s a clear day out, you can’t help but notice the golden hue filling the air. You don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking until Steve tugs on your hand.
“Do you like it?” He asks, almost nervous as he waits for your reaction.
“I…” You trail off, tears filling your eyes. This whole thing is just - just perfect. “I love it,” you say as you look at Steve, a wide smile spreading across your face. And you look at Bucky when you say, “It’s perfect.”
____________
“It’s perfect.”
Bucky can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. They’d both wracked their brains trying to figure out where to take you, what to do. They want to wow you, to show you that they can - and hopefully will get the chance to provide for you, they can make you happy. You’ll never go without, if you want something, they will figure out a way to get it.
“Good,” Steve says softly, smiling down at you before looking up at Bucky and nodding his head.
With that, the three of you make your way down the stairs, Steve holding on to your hand tightly to make sure you don’t fall, and Bucky places his free hand on your back. He can hear how your heartbeat speeds up when he does so and tries so hard not to puff out his chest when you glance up at him through your eyelashes coyly.
Once you’re down by the lake, the men lead you to a large oak tree merely ten or so feet from the edge. Steve is quick to unfold the blanket and spread it out under the tree - large enough to probably cover an entire California King bed. Bucky then places the basket down as his mate takes your hand and helps you sit near the edge of the blanket leaving enough space for the men to sit on either side of you.
The Alphas quickly open the basket and pull out containers of food, opening the lids and placing them in front of you. When they finally sit down - obviously with you in the middle - Bucky notices how wide your eyes are, how you seem transfixed on the array of fruits and sandwiches and cake. It’s when Bucky pulls out the jug of homemade lemonade that you choke back a cry.
“Honey?” Steve asks, turning his body to face you with a concerned look in his eyes.
“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Bucky places a hand on your back, sweeping it around to hold your waist. And can you really blame him if his whole body goes hot when you lean into his side and turn your face so it’s halfway buried in his neck?
It takes a few seconds but you’re finally able to gather yourself and pull away.
“You guys are just… I can’t believe it.”
“What can’t you believe, sweetheart?” Steve scoots closer to you, placing his hand on your head to smooth out your hair, and unconsciously turns your head so he can look directly at you. “Tell us what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”
____________
You want to scream. You want to yell until your voice gives out. It’s nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Them preparing food - by hand - and bringing you to this beautiful spot might just be a normal thing for most people, but considering you’ve hardly ever been shown this much affection and thoughtfulness. Shaking your head, you look away, unable to withstand the Alpha's intense gaze.
“It’s nothing,” You mumble, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not, honey,” Bucky says, giving your waist an affectionate squeeze. “If you’re upset, we want you to tell us.”
“I’m not! I promise!” You assure them, hesitantly reaching both of your hands out to place them on the Alpha’s legs. “I guess I just… I’ve just never been shown this much… care?” It’s phrased as a question, because you’re unsure if that was the right word to use, but it’s all you can think of at the moment.
“I know it may not seem like a lot,” You continue, taking a deep breath before looking up at Steve, and then Bucky. “But this means the world to me. You guys are just so sweet and thoughtful and I’m not really sure what to do, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, let alone two people.”
Both of the men sigh, and you can almost taste the scent of disappointment wafting off of them. Suddenly your nerves spike, did you say something wrong?
You must have said that out loud because Bucky starts shaking his head. “No, no darling. You didn’t say anything wrong, I promise.”
“We’re just… I guess we’re disappointed that you consider this the height of romance because this is the bare minimum. You should be used to this, you should be loved and worshipped because that’s what you deserve, nothing less. And it’s not your fault, it’s every other person’s fault for not treating you like the perfect Omega you are.” Steve sounds upset, and your heartbeat increases to a degree that you’d think you were having a panic attack if it weren’t for how damn happy you are.
For a moment, you’re unsure as to what to say, it’s just baffling to you that one person, let alone two, can make you feel this way, this joyous and carefree. But luckily Bucky speaks up so you don’t have to.
“And we’d love to have the chance to do that for you,” He says softly, picking up your hand to cradle it in his own so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. And when you stare up into his eyes, you can’t help but gasp at how loving his gaze is. “Will you give us that chance?”
“Yes.” And this time, you’re not embarrassed by how quickly your answer was to come. How can you be when both men sigh in relief and lean into your body so they can wrap you in their arms? It’s warm and comforting, filling you with happiness and care for these men.
When they lean back you really can’t be blamed for the way your gaze finds Steve’s, then drops down to his lips momentarily. At this, you’re a little flustered, suddenly overcome with the want to feel how soft they are.
Steve seems to read your mind because he places his hand on the back of your neck and forces you to hold his gaze.
“Can I kiss you, honey?”
“Please,” You whine, staying in place as the Alpha leans down slowly. Your eyes close when he gets close enough that you can feel his breaths against your mouth. And for a moment, neither of you moves, and your nerves climb higher and higher as the seconds tick by.
You’re about to speak when he finally, finally kisses you. At first, it’s just a simple peck, a chaste kiss on your lips, and then he pulls back by merely a millimeter. It’s you who leans forward to press your lips together again, and you let him lead as you lose yourself in the kiss. Though, it’s over far too soon for your liking by a soft groan.
Pulling away, both you and Steve turn to look at Bucky, who is now sporting a sheepish grin.
“Sorry,” He mumbles with a flushed face. “I just… I love seeing you two together. I love us all being together and having the two people I care about more than anything sharing your feelings. I know it’s-”
“Sweet,” You interrupt him, turning your body so you can face him better and slip your hand out of his. Placing it on his cheek, you smile when he nuzzles into your palm and gives it a little kiss. “I think it’s sweet, Bucky.”
“Can I kiss you too?” He whispers hopefully, smiling when you nod. Unlike his mate, Bucky doesn’t waste any time capturing your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. It’s clear he’s trying to hold back, and something in you just can’t help but feel wanted, desired. This kiss lasts a little longer, and although you can feel Steve’s gaze on you, you’re not in the least bit self-conscious. You know they wouldn’t lie to you, so you find comfort in knowing that you can show affection to both men without either getting upset or jealous.
When you do finally pull away, you can’t help but lean into Bucky’s chest, reaching behind you to grab Steve’s hand.
“I really like you guys,” You mumble into the Alpha’s chest.
“We really like you too,” They say in unison, causing you to smile.
With that, everything seems to fall into place, the men divvy up the food - giving you most of it - and you all eat in comfortable silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Once the food is eaten, Bucky wraps his arm around your waist, causing you to look up at him.
“Come here,” He says with a smile, guiding you to sit sideways on his lap, facing Steve. And there is absolutely no way in hell you could contain the squeak forcing its way out of your mouth. “Is this okay?” He asks as Steve scoots closer to sit right next to Bucky, picking up your legs and resing them in his lap.
You’ve never nodded faster in your life. You’re nervous, sure, but the utter happiness you’re feeling far outweighs it. That happiness only grows when Bucky nods to his mate, and you watch as the other man picks up the container with the cake. Your eyes widen when Steve picks up a fork and takes a small bit out of one of the slices, carefully leading it up to your mouth where you automatically open it.
Slowly, he slides the fork out, allowing you to chew the cake with a pleased smile on his face. It goes on like this until the slice is completely gone, with Bucky pressing kisses to your temple occasionally and bathing you in his warmth. It makes you preen having these Alphas take care of you like this, providing for you.
You’re content to stay here forever, wrapped up in their light, and by the time you’re done eating completely, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, a yawn forcing your mouth wide open.
“I’m sorry,” You say remorsefully, a little embarrassed by how tired you’ve become now that your stomach is full and you’re comfortably resting against Bucky’s chest.
“Don’t be, honey,” Steve says, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “You can nap if you want, we’ll be right here when you wake up.”
A smile spreads across your face, and you instinctively bury your head into Bucky’s chest and reach out so you can hold onto Steve’s hands. “Are you sure?” You ask, peeking an eye open so you can look up at the blonde Alpha.
He smiles as he nods, pressing another kiss on the top of your head. “Go to sleep, pretty girl.”
It doesn’t take long for you to float off into dreamland, and the last thing you hear is, “I told you she’s perfect for us.”
tagging: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @meteorshowercoffee / @wandaneedstherapy / @buckysbarne / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @p1ut0smoon / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @clownsbf / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @sweater-bee / @stuckysbike / @lovelylittleleigh / @buckyshbic / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @emeraldfairy23 / @lethargicluv / @kinsssss / @perfectlyboring / @glistenuplove / @monicachic13 / @bbellen1411 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @ladyravenclaw / @sadsadbabygirlrob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @sweetmoonlove0214 / @yesprettypleasesir / @duckies16 / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @xonickibaby / @matchat3a / @hereticdance / @animegirlgeeky / @rippedpiece
#let me know what yall think!#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky fic rec#stucky#steve rogers#stucky imagine#stucky x reader#steve rogers imagine#stucky x reader imagine#alpha!bucky#alpha!stucky#alpha!steve rogers#omega!reader#omegaverse#my writing
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)
Chap. 1 : Your Name
Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')
Masterlist
PROLOGUE
You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.
Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway.
The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion.
Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes.
You’d never love again.
“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.
By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.
“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road.
You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays.
Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life.
Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love.
Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake.
“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded.
“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.
“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”
You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.
“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”
Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.
“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”
“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”
“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”
You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved.
The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough.
Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil.
It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better.
Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long?
You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again.
**
You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement.
“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.
“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.
You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.
“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.
Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks.
“Really, Maria. You do.”
“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.
Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.
“Is that her dad?” You asked.
He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone.
“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”
“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.
Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.
“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”
“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.
You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled. And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance.
And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest.
“What was that?” Maria chirped.
You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you.
“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”
“It looked like something.”
You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you.
Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles.
“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”
“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”
You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.
“Miss Smith!”
“Shit,” you muttered to yourself.
With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes.
“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked.
“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally.
“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.
“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement.
“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”
His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.
“Joel,” he insisted.
You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?
Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home.
The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.
The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit.
You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.
“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.
“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”
“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.
“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.
Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.
“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.
“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”
“It’s my fault. I can fix it.”
You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true.
“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”
He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before.
“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled.
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.
“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”
Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”
His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours.
“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”
“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”
“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”
There was a lot of harm in it.
You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly.
“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.
You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.
“Yes, Mr. Miller?”
“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there.
“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.
Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous.
“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”
“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”
His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in.
“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.
“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.
“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.
“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”
That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.
“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”
“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch.
“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”
“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”
“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”
Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.
It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget.
The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.
“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”
“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk.
“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated.
“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”
She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents.
“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.
“I don’t know,” you sighed.
“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”
There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.
You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out.
The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see.
Joel Miller.
He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here.
“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.
You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing.
“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”
She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip.
“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”
“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”
“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.
You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.
Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.
You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—
“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.
“Mr. Miller,” you said.
“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased.
“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”
Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body.
“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips.
“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”
“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”
“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned.
“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer.
“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?”
Was he… flirting with you?
You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment.
“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care.
“What other flavors do you like?”
He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.
“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.
Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered.
“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered.
“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”
“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered.
Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency.
Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality.
“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”
Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away.
“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.
“How do you know? Were you watching me?”
“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?”
He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends.
“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach.
“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked.
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.
You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.
“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.
Joel peered around you and huffed loudly.
“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”
“He doesn’t look too happy.”
“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.
Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.
“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”
“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.
“Wait!” Joel called out.
“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”
You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built.
You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot.
“Fuck,” you groaned.
As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.
“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained.
“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you.
The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer.
“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”
Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins.
“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud.
Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.
“No,” he whispered softly.
Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door.
“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder.
The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car.
“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear.
“I’m—.”
“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”
He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner.
“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck.
“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”
You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior.
“Get in.”
His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar.
You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness.
Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile.
“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light.
You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”
“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”
A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably.
“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”
You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction.
“This is me,” you sniffled.
“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”
“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”
“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.
“It’s all formalities.”
“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”
Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.
“Can I just know one thing?” He asked.
You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.
“What’s your name?”
Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.
#joel miller x reader#joel x female reader#joel x f!reader#joel miller x teacher!f!reader#joel miller fanfic#joel tlou#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel miller#pre outbreak!joel
866 notes
·
View notes