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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 5 months ago

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I WANT YOU CLOSER, CLOSER EVEN STILL ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.

word count; 6.1k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((

a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple

geto looks beautiful in the rain.

it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.

you can’t help it, though.

it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.

those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life — splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled, hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. oddly at peace. when his eyes meet yours, you see a flash of recognition — a tiny spark in the amber hue.

you take that as your cue to move closer.

he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.

you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions.

you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.

(you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid.)

nothing can dampen your spirits right now. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.

”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.

”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”

with a smile, you lift the plastic bag, grabbing his attention. clasping it tightly, with your wet fingers. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”

”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?”

silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head up, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips. exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained.

maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.

(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)

”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”

the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though.

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, soles weighed down with dew. sort of sheepish.

geto chuckles, raspy and soft. the sound makes your heart skip a beat. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”

”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”

silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.

geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour.

”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”

geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”

you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over.

it makes you feel oddly flustered.

in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much.

suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that.

there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.

… but then there’s that gap.

the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.

waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.

(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)

”… oh.” a pause. ”no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”

geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.

then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”

and with that, your shoulders drop.

right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you to take summer classes ad compensation. that exam.

a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”

geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head.

”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”

he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue.

you’re still a little hesitant. but…

(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)

silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.

pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her.

it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

all you do is murmur out a quick thanks, as you begin to walk, in tandem.

geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable.

just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. to his relief, you don’t seem to notice. he’s pretty sure you’d protest; and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.

you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed.

he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with satoru’s shounen jump issue.

it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.

so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.

so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more.

(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you —

if you’re willing, that is.)

”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”

you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.

”… uh, sure!”

geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.

they’re pretty.

”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.”

he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.

”why did you come here?”

you blink.

silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”

geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”

ah.

that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.

(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)

”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”

a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed.

geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.

geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.

you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster.

so you accepted.

(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)

what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.

an escape. that’s all it was.

a way out.

he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you.

you want to give him a genuine answer.

”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.”

the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard.

he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed.

for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes.

he doesn’t look at you when he answers.

”… i get that.”

there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —

a growing connection.

(it makes you feel oddly bare.)

all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”

geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.

fleeing from the past.

it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.

maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness.

(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted —

control.)

it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.

geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.

everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.

geto inhales a breath.

”by the way —”

”— have you studied for the exam?”

you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.

then he barks out a laugh.

”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”

”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”

geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.

”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”

”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”

geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”

a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”

now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today.

”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”

”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”

all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”

“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”

and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.

”and that makes me an honour student?”

”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”

geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.”

his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that.

then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist.

you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him.

geto blinks, tilting his head.

”hm?”

“you and gojo, i mean.”

a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics?

what do you see in him?

he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.

(then again, he’s…)

”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.”

and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires.

satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before.

his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal.

is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.

but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one.

one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.

it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —

it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his.

but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.

geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.

(satoru is a lot of things.

most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)

geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”

he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity.

he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.”

”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”

geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”

you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement.

”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”

geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”

”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”

a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.

after a tiny pause, you speak up.

”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.”

you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper.

”… he’s not the worst.”

geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”

something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.

and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.

noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”

this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now.

a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure.

(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)

”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”

”right. of course.”

geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.

standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.

you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world —

you think you’d be happy.

so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.

(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)

you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.

”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.

”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”

”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating.

for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin.

finally, geto takes the leap.

when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”

you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

after a moment or two, you fumble for a response.

”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.”

a brief pause.

”… if you want to.”

geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.

so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him.

geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.

”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru.

(what a pretty name.)

suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.

finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.

and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.

”oh — right!”

swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him.

”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”

suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite.

did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though?

maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in.

he wants to know more, about you. he really does.

but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before.

it’s a small step, but in the right direction.

the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.

you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you��re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.

you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.

on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.

“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”

suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.

it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #geto fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x yn #jjk fluff #getou x reader #geto suguru x reader

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kitasgloves · 2 months ago

Note

Zero idea if its been asked already but can you do a Dazai x innocent golden retriever gf, i just know that man has the biggest corruption kink

alright folks we're back at it again!

— ♬ NSFW

As I have stated previously in a drabble, I'd like to think DAZAI OSAMU can get sweetly sadistic with an innocent/golden retriever type of gf. He views your purity and naivety as a sweet little treat for him to feast on and devour. You have the most sparkling personality that rivals the sun. And Dazai is greedy, he likes to keep sucking in your warm innocence until you run dry.

He adores your enthusiasm and free thinking. You're like a breath of fresh air with the way you smile and cling to him. Dazai's ego inflates when you praise him for how clever and knowledgeable he is about various things. Sometimes, he'd treat you like a little kid and talk to you like you're a toddler, cooing about how you're too naive for the world.

This bitch would tease the fuck out of you. He likes to make you pout and hear you whine. He'd make fun of every little thing about you. Your massive height difference, the way you snort when you laugh, and every silly habit you have, he'd pick on it all. Dazai can get obsessive with tracking all your likes and dislikes. He probably keeps a little notebook with lists like your favorite flavors, most hated dating spots, the books you found interesting, the brands of your underwear, etc. This mf keeps track of everything and keeps receipts so it's impossible to keep a secret from him.

Speaking of secrets, Dazai knows every told and untold secret about you. He loves to get into your personal space. He wants to know what makes you laugh until you cry, what makes you blow a fuse, what makes you blush like a strawberry, and especially what makes you cry in pleasure. The brunette would gaslight himself into thinking he's not that cruel. No, he's a sweet and loving boyfriend who adores his bright girlfriend! Yep, he just wants to corrupt your innocence, it's not that cruel, right?

"Hghh—Oh—Osamu—"

"Stay still for me"

He whispers against your ear. Dazai leans back to admire your naked and sweaty figure on the bed, your hands gripping the sheets, your legs spread apart, and his limber fingers fucking deep into you. He chuckles as he watches you turn away with a flushed face as he fingerfucks your wet cunt. The squelching sound of his fingers curling in and out of your pussy filled the room. The way you were so reactive with every movement of his fingers made his pants tight.

"Look at you, sucking in my fingers like a greedy little whore"

"...I'm not—ah!"

You go crossed-eyed when he brushes against that special spot inside of you again. Dazai pulls his fingers out to hear you whimper. He's been at it for an hour now, fingerfucking you only to pull away when he can feel you coming close. Tears have been already rolling down your cheeks with how much you plead for him to make you cum already. Dazai smiles darkly as he goes to caress your breasts before delivering a sharp slap on your cunt.

You flinch and shuddered in pleasure when that delicious stinging sensation stimulates your clit. He slaps your pussy a couple of times until it turns puffy.

"Osamu, please!"

"Please what? Come on, use your words, honey"

"Please make me cum already!"

"Hmm, I don't know. Do you deserve it?"

A cruel smile spreads on your boyfriend's lips as more tears begin escaping your glassy eyes. You looked so precious and pathetic begging for him to make you cum that he almost loses his restraint. His hand goes to grab your jaw before sneering down at you.

"Does a slut like you deserve to cum?"

You sobbed and nodded frantically. He clicks his tongue.

"Answer me properly"

"Yes! Please, I'll be good!"

Fortunately, Dazai grants you mercy as he slips his fingers back inside of you again. You throw your head back and moan when he starts to rapidly finger you. Your vision goes blurry as you struggled to catch your breath with how deep and fast his skilled fingers was fucking you. The brunette watched you with unblinking eyes as he felt your juices trailing from his fingers down to his wrists. The way you clenched around his fingers as your moans went up into an octave signaled an overwhelming orgasm from you.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Osamu—"

Dazai watched breathlessly as your release crashed down on you with you gushing around his fingers. He holds his breath as you squirt immensely during your orgasm. He tries to bring out more by rubbing your clit which makes you overstimulated as your eyes rolled back. The moment you regain your vision and catch your breath, you realize that you have stained the sheets and your boyfriend is staring at you hungrily.

The next thing you knew, Dazai was hastily slipping off his pants and aligning his cock with your wet entrance. You try to push him back, telling him you're too tired for another round but he dismisses you by shoving his cock inside your cunt. Dazai's eyes almost rolled back with how tight and wet you felt. Immediately, he grabs your hips and sets a brutal pace.

"Hah—sl-slow down! Shit, I can't—"

"Shut the fuck up and take my cock like the pathetic slut you are"

He grins devilishly when you are unable to reply with how your jaw is slack and how drool is seeping down your lips. Dazai keeps aiming his cock deep until it bruises your cervix, every thrust violently rips out the oxygen from your lungs. You looked perfectly fucked out. His sweet innocent girlfriend is fucked dumb by his cock. Your hair was tangled, your cheeks were flushed, and your eyes were glassy.

Your boyfriend keeps pounding into you, mindlessly reveling in his pleasure as he used you like a fucking sex toy. Eventually, you begin to clench around him again but he decides to slow down his pace. You stare at him wide-eyed before your lip begins to wobble.

"Aww, were you going to cum again?"

Dazai teases. You hiccuped as you started to sob.

"You have to make me cum first, slut"

The brunette switches the position with him lying down and you on top of him. He was ordering you to bounce on his dick and make him cum. Eager to please him and reach your release, your steadied your thighs and began bouncing on his cock.

"Hah! Fuck, you look like you're made to bounce on my cock"

He muses. Dazai watched as your ass slapped against his thighs. The tip of his dick kept kissing the deepest part within you. He watched with wicked amusement as your thighs began to shake with every bounce as your hands desperately clawed on his stomach. You began to grow tired as you abruptly stopped making him click his tongue.

"What a pathetic cockslut. Do I have to do everything myself, hm?"

"Please, Osamu, I can't—"

Suddenly, Dazai thrusts his hips upwards making you squeal and throw your head back. His hands fiercely grab your wrists as he continues to thrust upward into you. He laughs at how absolutely cockdrunk you were letting him use you. Sooner, Dazai's thrusts began to go sloppy as he gritted his teeth.

"Shit, gonna cum! You better take all of it like the cumslut you are"

With every moment the tip of Dazai's cock abuses your cervix, it brings you close to your peak. His grip on your wrists tightened and with a couple of hard thrusts, his seed spills inside of you. Your orgasm followed next as your eyes rolled back and your thighs quivered. You collapsed on top of Dazai as you tried to catch your breath. The exhaustion consumes you though as you fluttered your eyes shut.

"Looks like my cute little slut got tired"

Dazai brushes your hair back and pulls his cock out, he could see his excess cum dribbling out of your cunt as his eyes glimmered in delight. All he could think about as he watched you sleep was more ways to make you cry and beg for him to make you cum again.

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heliianth · 3 months ago

Text

mini meta because i cant get this fucking scene out of my brain:

its one of my fav Alluka scenes because its a sneak peek into her frankly miraculous emotional intelligence that simultaneously contextualizes it. She's still a little kid. Alluka is a smart cookie who can properly recognize and identify what people are feeling, can generally guess why they're feeling it, and get an idea of what would make them happy. But that "feeling" is hate for her, and what would make them happy is her disappearing. Really heartbreaking.

but the way Killua responds is also pretty fascinating to me? like, he pivots so fucking hard LOL. And I get it, it's such a loaded question. Would the Zoldycks be happier if Alluka was gone? Realistically, the answer is no... but admitting that would require a self-awareness about his family and his abuse Killua doesn't have yet. He probably doesn't even know how to answer, doesn't know what the answer even is.

So instead of digging into that can of worms, Killua cocks his own shotgun and fires back another loaded question: "If I were the only one who loved you in the whole world... would that make you sad?"

There were like a dozen other, much safer ways to both avoid this question and comfort Alluka. It's not even a full dodge, it's directly related to Alluka's fear via implication (the rest of the family doesn't love you). And it's not like Killua hasn't verbally weaseled his way out of tougher conversations. So... why?

I'm gonna try to truncate my full thoughts because I literally have a WIP 5k+ meta about it and I don't want to go down that rabbit hole, but Killua projects onto Alluka and Nanika a lot in this arc. Keeping that in mind, I think this question is his best, most earnest way of comforting Alluka because this train of thought is what's comforted him in the past.

I mean, think about it. Someone who will love and accept you no matter who you are or what you've done? Just one person who doesn't care? He's putting himself in the position of Alluka's Gon-figure here. And if you buy into that, the followup—"I'll always be there for you. Don't worry about anyone else"—reveals how a portion of his subconscious saw his emotionally dependent relationship with Gon as well; that is, as a comforting means to psychologically avoid confronting harder questions about himself, his upbringing, or how other people view him. It's kind of no coincidence that the minute Gon is wholly and totally incapacitated and Killua starts mucking around with the revolutionary idea of boundaries, he immediately starts thinking about his family again (in some manner).

And as an indulgent aside, I want to point out that when he ends up sending Nanika—who is, unlike Alluka, a subject of Killua's darker and more self-hating projections—away and Alluka fights back instead of internalizing it, Killua immediately recognizes the irrationality...

...because it breaks the mirror.

anyway. squeezes and shakes them like squeaky toys

#heliichats #hxh #im obbsessseddd with the way killua sees nanika (extremely lethal and dehumanized dark entity being) and goes #ohhh. so just like me :3 (unintentionally derogatory). and he doesnt even realize it lmfao #hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck #alluka zoldyck

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dixons-sunshine · 28 days ago

Text

A Risk | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an attempt to hide from a herd, Daryl sought cover in an abandoned cabin. However, he stumbled across a woman that threatened him, and he soon figured out that there was more to her than meets the eye.

Era: Prison, pre season four.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to near death, walkers.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: Requested by @nikkicloudie. I hope you like this!

“I said: Lower. Your. Fucking. Weapon.”

Against his better judgement, Daryl slowly and hesitantly lowered his crossbow, allowing it to drop to the floor with a dull clink. Once his beloved crossbow was out of his grasp, he raised his hands above his head in surrender.

“I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble, lady,” Daryl spoke up, his ocean-coloured eyes flickering between the gun in your grasp and your face. He was searching for any change in your demeanour, for any sign that you would attack. “Jus’ passin’ through. M’hidin’ from that herd that’s ‘bout two miles from here. M’waitin’ ‘em out.”

Daryl could see the contemplation on your face. With a mere glance at your face, and the way your grip slightly loosened around the gun, the archer knew he was not in any immediate danger. However, he still did not let his guard down. Perhaps you were a master of deception, and you were simply playing him. He did not want to risk it.

“Go.” you finally voiced after a good while of silence. “There’s another cabin about a mile up from here. If you leave now, you’ll make it before the herd gets here.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah. I ain’t riskin’ it. M’not leavin’.”

“Well that’s too damn bad, buckaroo,” you retorted, your gun being raised and aimed at him once more. “I’m not about to risk my s—my life for some stranger. Leave, or I’ll shoot you, I swear to god.”

“Listen, lady. I ain’t—”

Before Daryl could finish his sentence, a loud crash came from another room, followed by a cry. Was he going insane, or did that sound like a little kid? However, before Daryl could do anything, you turned around and bolted towards the source of the sound.

With a frown, Daryl picked up his crossbow and slowly walked towards the room you had disappeared into. He raised his weapon, fully prepared for an attack, but the sight that beheld him had him stopping in his tracks.

A walker laid dead by the window. You were down on your knees, your gun discarded a few feet away from you, and in your embrace was a little boy; the little boy looked no older than three years old. Suddenly, it all made sense to him. The new world gave everyone all the reasons to be extremely defensive, but you had another reason. You had someone you wanted, needed to keep safe.

Your eyes flickered up to meet Daryl’s, and the archer could clearly see how glassy they had become. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that the little boy had almost been that walker’s next meal. If you had not appeared when you had… Daryl did not even want to finish that thought.

“You’re okay, Chris. I got you, Baby. Mama’s got you,” you murmured to the little boy in your arms. You gently picked him up as you raised from the floor and allowed him to bury his face into your neck, his quiet whimpers and sniffles being muffled. You looked back at Daryl, your expression less guarded, but more broken.

At that moment, Daryl had already made up his mind. You were clearly just a mom trying to defend her son from the harsh reality that was the world outside, and you had viewed Daryl as a potential threat, and you had every right to be wary of him. He supposed he did not look like the most warm, inviting person ever, and he definitely did not blame you for wanting him as far away from your son as humanly possible.

“M’from a place not too far from here,” Daryl spoke up after a few moments of contemplating his options. He continued when he noticed he had your full attention. “S’a prison that we converted into a community. It’s safe and secure, with ‘bout fifty people walkin’ around and makin’ due.”

“Is that an offer?” you inquired, your hand rubbing soothing circles over your son’s back. “I mean, I just threatened to kill you.”

Daryl shrugged and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. “I would’ve been more terrified of ya if ya didn’t point yer gun at me, considerin’ the world we live in now.” Daryl’s lips involuntarily twitched into a small smile when he heard your light chuckle. “I only have three questions for ya, though.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Sure. Shoot.”

“How many walkers have ya killed?” he began, studying your expression closely.

It was your turn to shrug. “I don’t know. A lot.”

“How many people have ya killed?”

A small beat of silence passed. “One.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t about to allow him to kill my son.”

Your answers were more than sufficient, considering the questions you were being asked. He was about to say something, until he heard groaning coming from outside. He ushered you down, and quickly sprung into action. He closed the window and lowered himself down against the wall, right next to you. He turned his head to look at you, and saw how you quietly tried to shush your son, who had started fussing once he picked up on the shift in the mood.

“Mama,” he whimpered, instantly being shushed by you.

“It’s okay, Baby. Shh. It’ll be over soon, okay?” You turned your head and looked at Daryl, your expression desperate. “I don’t know if what you’re saying is true or not, but I can’t live like this anymore.” For added emphasis, you motioned towards the window, where dozens of walkers were walking past. “My son isn’t safe like this. Your offer is just a risk I have to take.”

Daryl nodded. “I know ya dun’ trust me, but I’d never endanger yer lil’ one like that. Ya have my word on that.”

A few beats of silence passed. “I’m Y/N, by the way. This is Chris.”

“Daryl,” Daryl told you. “M’Daryl. And I promise m’gon’ make sure ya get yer lil’ boy to safety. Ain’t gon’ let nothin’ happen to him.”

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landograndprix · 10 months ago

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ iv

part iii - part v

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ they're making it way too easy for you two to fall into each others arms

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ 🥺 that's all I have to say. ( yes, I just figured out there a picture I used before but can't be arsed to change it 😭) also, if you haven't been tagged know that I either wasn't able to tag you or simply forgot to add to my list, I'm not ignoring you!

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, joris__trouche and 372,433 others

y/nusername à propos de la semaine dernière ♡ (about last week)

tagged: manon_roux

view all 1,787 comments

charliecharlie zoë is growing way too fast 😫

leclerc_16 love watching y/n get more comfortable in her skin again, like yes babe you're hot glad you figured it out!

↳ bott_ass she no longer is just mom, she entered the milf era for real 😍

ikemike did charles fumble this already or not?

norrizz sexy mamma 😍

carlandooo what kind of half-assed bouquet is that?!?! Charles do better 😭

↳ norry4 looking like they were plucked from a garden he passed by on his walk 💀

carlandooo I know that it's the thought that counts but was there even thought put into this??

maxmaxmax he should take some notes from max and the bouquets he gives to kelly!

joris__trouche j'ai besoin de Zoë pour arrêter de grandir (i need zoë to stop growing)

↳ y/nusername je suis d'accord (I agree)

manon_roux pretty mamma with her pretty baby 😍

wagfits love the outfit! 🔥

charles_leclerc mon monde ❤️ (my world)

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Doha, Qatar

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 378,791 others

y/nusername 🇶🇦

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 1,189 comments

charlesgirlies finally some dad charles content again 🥰

↳ maxieverstap he finally realized he got a daughter back at home..

noellepicard oh zoë, she so pretty 😍

bott_ass cunt is going to be served this weekend with y/n back on the grid

leclerc_16 zoë 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

hamilt44n can't wait to see you pop up on my TV again!

yukisan if my kid doesn't end up as cute as zoë, I don't want it :(

landonorris papaya?

↳ y/nusername still not putting my daughter in your mclaren merch

landonorris man 😔

norrizz pls put zoë in some mclaren merch to stop him from nagging you 😭

charlos16 he really ain't leaving without a fight 💀

f1wags will you be on the track everyday or just the race?

manon_roux oh I want to eat that little girl so bad

↳ y/nusername babysitting rights revoked, we don't tolerate cannibalism in this house

manon_roux not fair 😫

carlandooo anyone noticed that she's been ignoring Noelle lately? 👀

landoscar impressed by how consistent lando is with liking everything y/n posts

↳ chilisainz post notification for sure

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #lando x reader #charles x reader

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lovebugism · 5 months ago

Note

Hiiieeeeee may I maybe recommend a fic with Stevie and maybe his ditsy/clumsy gf?

And maybe she tries a new recipe and cooks/bakes something different and gives herself a nasty burn and maybe it’s the first time Steve hears her swear and he’s so concerned over her because she’s clearly hurt and crying but she’s more upset about messing up the dish instead of how badly the burn actually is?

hope u like it angel xoxo — steve patches you up after you burn yourself making breakfast for him (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of minor injuries, 1k)

French toast sizzles on a hot pan. You stand in front of the stove, in nothing but a stolen t-shirt and a modest pair of underwear, and watch it cook with your features pinched in a distant concentration. Your Stevie wanted breakfast — “’s the only thing I want in the whole world,” the boy whined dramatically into his pillow — so you were gonna make him breakfast or die trying.

Steve sits quiet at the kitchen table, sipping steaming coffee from a Count Chocula mug, and hissing every time it burns his tongue. He decides to flip through the Sunday newspaper, mostly ‘cause he feels the honeyed domesticity calls for it. He only finds real interest in the cartoon page.

“Alright. Put ‘em up,” Charlie Brown threatens in the first panel, dressed head to toe in cowboy gear. Snoopy’s in the second one, with both of his black ears sitting straight in the air.

Steve chuckles to himself, a sharp exhale through his nose, and opens his mouth to call you over. “Fuck!” he hears you squeak before he can. It makes him laugh for real this time. “Hey. Watch the language, babe,” the boy teases.

“Sorry…” he hears you murmur in response. With your back still facing him, obscuring any view of the hot stove, he figures you must’ve burnt the first batch of toast.

It wouldn’t be the most surprising thing, anyway. You’re the clumsiest person he’s ever met (more than Robin, which he didn’t think was even possible). You’re not much of a chef either, bustling around the kitchen with a floundering air of confidence.

“Such a naughty word from such a pretty girl,” Steve jokes in an attempt to make you laugh. He hears his sensitive girl sniffle to herself instead, like you’re crying — or about to. His crooked smile ebbs. “Hey… I was just kidding, babe. You can say whatever the hell you want— I don’t care.”

His chair scrapes the tile when he stands. His socked feet pad against the floor on his way to you. “I swear all the time,” Steve says and embraces you from behind. His scruffy chin bobs on your shoulder. “I mean, you’ve heard me— I basically make up new words.”

He scoffs a faint laugh before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You sniffle again. “I messed up,” you murmur, voice wet with unshed tears.

“What do you mean?”

“The french toast. I put too much egg in the mixture, and now everything’s all sticky— It’s gonna be so gross now.”

You ramble mindlessly and gesture with your hands. Steve catches a glimpse of a red and raging welt on the outside of your thumb. The sight of the fresh burn makes his chest twist.

“Holy shit, babe.”

You meet his concerned gape with a doe-eyed look. “What?”

“Your hand— Let me see.”

He takes your fingers in his gentle, softly calloused ones. You shrug off his palpable worry but let him examine your stinging skin nonetheless. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt,” you lie through your teeth. “I barely even felt it.”

Steve’s peers at you beneath his lashes, bushy brows raised until his forehead wrinkles. “It’s gotta hurt, babe,” he insists in a monotone.

“My bruised pride hurts more.”

He grins before he means to. “Come on, weirdo— let’s get a bandaid on you,” the boy chuckles and turns off the burning stove-eye. You gasp when he tugs you out of the kitchen with a gentle hand around your wrist.

“But breakfast!” you whine in protest.

“I’ll drive us to the diner after, alright? I promise,” Steve assures as he leads you down the hallway. “That way neither of us has to die to put some food on the table.”

“Well, that’s just dramatic.”

He shrugs and flips on the bathroom light. “Maybe a little.”

You sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, per Stevie’s instructions, while he fishes for the first aid kit in the cabinets. He fits just perfectly between your thighs, you notice, as he rubs ointment onto your finger with an impossibly gentle touch. You quickly forget about the raised welt on your thumb — too focused on the pretty boy who holds all his love in his hands.

“There you go. Good as new,” Steve smiles once he’s stuck a plaster flush to your skin. He doesn’t notice the small pout scrunching your pretty face until he’s closed the first aid kit. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’…” you murmur, gaze averted as you pick at the fraying hem of your oversized tee. “I just… I wanted to do something nice for you, but I messed it all up, and you ended up having to do something nice for me…”

Steve scoffs. “You do nice stuff for me all the time.”

Your frown deepens.

“You tidied up the house when I was working late yesterday,” he tells you. “And you did the dishes even though you hate doing the dishes—”

“Everyone hates doing the dishes,” you insist.

“Exactly!”

“Well, you said death would be easier than doing them, so I thought it’d make it easier on you by doing it while I was off…”

“Exactly,” Steve repeats, settling between your legs once more. He smooths a pair of wide palms over the outsides of your thighs and flashes you another pretty smile. “You make everything easier on me. Even when you don’t mean to.”

You peek at him beneath your lashes, gaze glimmering with something short of hope. “Really?” you wonder in a mousy voice.

“Yeah! All the time!” the boy scoffs without thinking.

He wraps a pair of golden arms around your shoulders and pulls you in for a smothering hug. Your hands curl into his sweatshirt as you bury your face in his neck — inhaling the sweet scent of sleep and leftover cologne lingering there.

Steve noses at your hair, still a bit wild from your slumber. “Except for when you accidentally burn yourself and act like it’s not a big deal,” he teases with a smile curling at your temple.

Muffled against his neck, you grumble, “It wasn’t.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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targaryenluvs · 10 months ago

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— PROTECTOR

pairing: yandere!percy jackson x fem!gf!reader

summary: percy can’t seem to grasp the idea that you can survive just fine on your own.

warnings: arguments, combat, injuries, kinda backwards views/manly views, kind of dark (protective) jealousy, obsessed?? smothering/coddling

a/n: basically he can’t stop worrying, lmk if u want a part 2! sorry it’s short - i already did part two heheh just now

PART TWO

specially for the amazingly talented @lady-ashfade

percy was incessant.

ever since you’d reached camp and gotten settled in, he seemed to be everywhere. whether it be in the mornings at breakfast, at training, when you hung out with your friends, your boyfriend always found away to be right there with you. spacial boundaries be damned.

everyone noticed, they all chalked it up to adorableness. the two of you couldn’t stand to be apart from each other for too long, how adorable was that? but that was only the start. the following along you could put up with, it was quite easy to escape when needed. letting him talk to your friends and get engrossed in the gossip of the ares cabin. excusing yourself from him for lady reasons which never failed to make him red in the face.

it wasn’t as if you were sick of him or anything but you felt smothered. everywhere you turned he was right there, shining smile and ready to talk your ear off. you figured as your relationship progressed and he made more friends, that he’d have his own time.

why would he need friends when he has you?

but your rude awakening came in the form of a training session with a friend.

harry was one of the first people who welcomed you into your cabin, open arms and a warm smile. and percy hated him most. he hated the fact that someone else was able to provide you with the comfort he assumed only could originate from him. anytime the two of you were hanging out hed always inject himself in between the two of you.

“are you trying to burn your marshmallow?” harry laughed at your words whilst retracting his stick, “no but i like it crispy, chocolate melts easier with it.” the two of you had a long day, training with new campers and helping them settle in with luke. even if you didn’t have to, solving a dispute with the ares kids. and even solving the mystery of the stolen shoes. percy had been in the infirmary as a punishment for being out later than usual and accidentally falling from a tree.

he was trying to make sure you were safe in your cabin.

he’d been annoying the apollo kids into letting him out early and at some point they couldn’t take it anymore so they let him go. coming to see you, he didn’t expect to find you sitting next to harry, sharing a marshmallow. of course most people would just see it as a normal sharing but for percy? he wanted to drown the boy. who does he think he is? making a move on his girlfriend just because he’s in the infirmary?

“y/n.” his stern voice drew you from your conversation as you got up, “perce! you’re okay!” you smiled as you walked over to him, percy’s eyes were still trained on the kid. “perce?” you waved your hand in front of his face as percy grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you along, “what the hell? if you want me to come with you then just say so!” you were infront of his cabin now and he did not look happy, “i’m stuck in the infirmary and instead of coming to visit me, you’re hanging out with him?” his voice was filled with disgust, as your expression screamed puzzled.

“i was the first person who visited you! straight away, but you were unconscious for hours! there’s no point in me sitting there, since it’s not going to help you. so i got out of the way and let them do their work. my world doesn’t stop spinning because you’re not there percy.” you were too busy looking at him, his curling fists going unnoticed.

“i’m your boyfriend, not him. i don’t want to see you around him.” your hand slapped over your mouth as you laughed, from far away you might’ve seemed insane. your hands clutched your head, then abdomen as you laughed, “ahaha! oh my god! you’re crazy! you don’t own me, nor control me percy. if you want to be my boyfriend, you need to learn that i am my own person. when you change your attitude, then come back to me.” you walked away from him, before turning around.

“and until then i’m not sleeping here.” you ran inside to pick up your clothes and bag as percy stood in the doorway, “are you serious?” you clutched all of your belongings, as if he’d try to steal them, “yes i am.” surprisingly he let you go, watching you walk back to your own cabin.

the rest of the night he spent thinking of how he could get you back in his grasp. capture the flag was tomorrow, and he had a plan to make you see just how much you needed him.

#pjo x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson imagine #yandere percy jackson #yandere percy jackson x reader

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bigfan-fanfic · 6 months ago

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Bats in the Web (Spider-Man!Batdad x Batfam)

What if batfam meets a version of Batdad who is Spider-Man in his universe??

"We can't interfere!" Bruce growls. "I know you want to help, but after the last world we jumped into, we can't take chances."

Dick sighs. The last world they went into, they nearly ruined everything because Gotham had no Batman yet.

But luckily, something descends upon the mugging in progress.

But it isn't Batman.

A strange silver cable zips into view and slams into the assailant's back, spreading in a strange geometric pattern. He stumbles forward at the force of the blow, before the cable springs taut, and the mugger is flung into the air.

Someone lithe and graceful sails through the air, trailing more silver cables and quickly wraps the stranger up in them, robotic arms emerging from their back to assist - almost like a four-armed... spider.

The mugger dangles upside down from a traffic light, completely mummified in silver, and the figure, in a black bodysuit with light-catching silver filaments in a web pattern shining along the whole thing, and what appears to be a yellow hood and short jacket, crouches atop it.

"You get home safe, you hear?" they call. "We'll just be... hangin' around."

The would-be victim grins up at them. "Thanks, Spidey!"

But the Bats are looking shocked.

Because that was clearly your voice, only slightly altered by a voice changer - the voice you use when you broadcast to negotiate with people while they're on patrol.

Before they can speak, though, you've flung yourself through the air, opening your arms to reveal the gliding wings attached from your sides to the arms of your jacket so you can sail through the air.

"Pops is... Spider-Man?" Dick yelps.

From what they can surmise, in this universe, Bruce still lost his parents at a young age, but he didn't develop the desire to become Batman.

Instead, while on a field trip, you were exposed to some kind of radioactive spider, and Bruce did what he could to keep your secret and develop his technological aptitude to help you.

It was Alfred's death that convinced you to become a hero - his last words to you being that with great power came great responsibility.

You and Bruce are still very young in this world, barely old enough to have adopted a young Dick Grayson. It's probable that Damian won't be born, and Tim won't be adopted by you.

You're so much more cheerful than Batman - Gotham's Spider-Man quips, sometimes with dark humor, and inspires her citizens to fight back against the oppressive darkness of their city with good humor and clever tactics.

The Bats make their way to Wayne Manor, only to find the harsh brickwork and traditional architecture has made way for modern-quality of life improvements, fiber optic light fixtures, glass bay windows, and high tech at every turn. It barely resembles their Wayne Manor.

In fact, the caverns beneath the estate aren't even utilized, with there instead being a high-tech laboratory on the grounds with a launchpad to fling you over the bay and into the city.

It's a shock to see them - Bruce Wayne, his body in shape but much softer: he obviously works out hard but he's clearly not a fighter. His movements are relaxed, even sluggish compared to the constant vigilance of the Bat. And he wears an unfamiliar expression on his face - a genuine lazy grin.

Meanwhile there's this world's you - lithe and strong, battle-worn and with the at-rest tension of a vigilante.

Alt-Bruce and you have an easy banter, a love very much like two young people - you're only a little older than Dick, after all, which he finds weird - especially when he and Tim babysit his younger version.

Jason is utterly touched when Alt-Bruce asks about all the kids, so he can make sure to adopt them - he wouldn't want them going homeless in this world. All Jason knows is that young Jason Todd in this world might just be saved from years of trauma.

You're still the strategist, but Bruce is your mission control and the gear/science guy - he helps with upgrades and is the one to suggest a way to get the Bats back to their world.

But you'll need their help.

You fly through the city that night accompanied by five gliding shadows. Shadows that brutally subdue the henchmen of Black Mask as you soar above their heads, connecting some power towers with a filament web, forming a major circuit Alt-Bruce can use to power a tachyonic collider, which should launch them back into their world.

They return to their world, but Jason pulls Bruce aside.

"B... you owe him."

"Owe him what? Who, Jaybird?"

Jason sighs. "Pops. You owe him a chance to see that smile. On you."

Bruce looks at him. "You think my face can still do that?"

"Hey, I was surprised that you were actually funny! But... yeah, I do."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you're right..."

#batdad reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #spiderman reader #batman x reader #batman headcanons #dc headcanons #headcanons #male reader

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nervoussagittarius · 7 months ago

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hey, let’s not be alone tonight

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt introduces his girlfriend to the world through a video on his personal channel, request

warnings: extreme fluff, maybe some swearing who knows lol

matt sat in the driver seat of his car looking down at his lap. his face displayed a slightly distraught look as he glanced up into the camera.

“hi guys welcome backs to my personal channel…god i hate filming by myself.” he said with a sigh.

his gloomy look soon brightened into a smile as he stated “luckily i’m alone tonight” and turned the camera hoping both of you were in frame. you simultaneously laughed at his little bit before realizing that the camera was in fact very much crooked.

“hey matt,” you said pointing to the lens.

“oh fuck, let me fix it. hang on guys” he said holding a hand up to the camera in a “wait” motion .

matt quickly got out of the car making his way around to the front. he conducted you on which way to move the camera so both of you were evenly in the frame.

you tried to concentrate at the task at hand, but everytime you looked at matt for direction he made a funny face back at you, making you laugh.

“is that good? i can’t tell” you said calling to matt. he sent you a thumbs up in response, and made his way back to his seat.

matt and you were in sync as you looked at each other, then to the camera, and then back to each other.

“you ready?” he questioned reaching down to hold your hand over the center console.

“absolutely” you replied.

“guys, you were all wrong…. i’m coming clean and telling you that i’m still as single as i’ve ever been” matt said with a very serious look on his face.

“what?” you exclaimed with a slight giggle, looking at matt. he tried not to break character, but didn’t last very long as you poked his cheek getting him to smile.

“i’m just kidding,” he said “this is my girlfriend y/n. all of you have been speculating so we thought it was time to announce it.”

”you can talk you know” he chuckled softly squeezing your hand.

“i know, i just didn’t want to cut you off” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes as they softened at your statement.

“hi guys, i’m y/n” you finally repeat waving at the camera.

matt couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you looked so perfect sitting under the lights of his car. he didn’t want to pressure you into having to succumb to parts of his lifestyle, but your willingness to participate in a video with him made him love you even more.

matt was very private with his personal business. he didn’t like people speculating or starting rumors. for the longest time he didn’t want to expose you to the hate that came from his job, but he wanted nothing more then to be able to show you off to the world. you were everything to him and he wanted to celebrate that.

“matt..” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “do you want to tell them what we’re doing today?”

“oh yeah, so i was gonna make an instagram story asking you guys to ask us questions, but i couldn’t figure out how to do it, and then i realized it would spoil the suprise. so nick and chris wrote us a couple questions that they figured you’d want us to answer.”

you released your hand from matt’s with a giggle at his statement, picking up your drink. this caught his attention as he quickly grabbed your drink from you, putting it in your other hand, and grasped the left one back in his.

this made you give him a “really?” look but he just responded with a shrug and a brief kiss to your cheek.

“alrighty” he said dragging out the y. “we’re gonna start out simple and take turns answering questions. y/n is going to go first with the question ‘how did we meet?’”

you laughed, “so matt and i actually have different views on how me met, but nick cleared it up for us because he has a better memory of the situation.” matt jokingly rolled his eyes and he looked at you intently.

“i know that we originally met at a vintage thrift store when i had complimented nick on his shirt. i was wearing this vintage leather jacket and he loved it, so he wanted to show matt and chris. that’s actually when we met, but matt claims he wasn’t there for that, so to him we met at a small gathering one of our mutual friends had for their birthday.”

“i promise i was not there when you first met nick and chris”

“how did they get to that vintage store then matt? you drive them everywhere.” you broke out in laughter at the dumbfounded look on his face.

“okay you may have a point, but i’m still sticking to my original story.” he said passing you the phone to ask the next question.

“okay baby, whatever you say.” you patted his cheek as he once again rolled his eyes at you lovingly.

“how long have we been together?” you asked.

he pretended to think for a second before saying “seven months. literally the best days of my fucking life.”

“really?” you said looking up at him with a small smile on your face.

“of course. i love being with you”

you guys stared at eachother for a few seconds before you cleared your throat looking away with a slight blush on your face.

“okay, next question.” you got out quickly, not being able to make eye contact with matt.

you and matt have been together for a decent amount of time, yet he still manages to suprise you and make you nervous daily. he thinks it’s cute, but you find it a little frustrating. he loves seeing how he can still make you blush just by looking at you. it boosts his ego and tells him he’s doing something right.

“how do you manage a healthy relationship? i feel like nick and chris are asking this questions for themselves because neither of them can stay in a relationship” matt laughed.

“i think it’s all about how you communicate and developing a flow that will bind both of your lives without disrupting the previous routine.” you said through giggles.

“it’s definitely important to make time for each other, but you also have to make time for yourself. especially with matt’s job being very time consuming. we’ve done a lot of trial and error to figure out what’s best for us and our relationship. matt and i also have a rule that we can’t go to sleep mad at each other so it kinda forces us to figure our shit out.”

“i agree.” matt says looking at the camera giving them a slight head tilt. he leaned his head back on his seat turning to look at you.

“okay last question for the night. would we ever start a channel together?”

“do you want to answer this together?” matt asks. you nod.

“on three” you reply.

three counts are made before you both answer. “fuck no” “absolutely not”

the serious faces you’re both making are soon broken as you fall into eachother laughing. a few seconds pass before matt lifts his head first placing a kiss to your hair.

“listen, we’re not saying that y/n will never appear in a video again, but neither of us want the hassle or the constant publication of our relationship on the internet”

“yeah, we’re definitely not one of those couples.” you say with a smile, still leaning your head on matt’s shoulder.

matt finally released your hand, grabbing the camera off the dash. you took this time to take a sip of your drink as matt placed the focus on you.

“any last words for the viewers?”

“we love you all and i hope you’re prepared for matt’s constant talk about me, because nick and chris complain about it all the time.”

you grabbed the camera pointing it at matt.

“and what are your last words mr. matthew sturniolo?”

he looked over the camera to you and then back to the lens.

“let’s kiss the camera, babe” he said.

you both leaned forward to place a short peck on the camera lens. pulling back, you both laughed at the fog and matt wiped the lens clean as he ended the video.

“do you think they’ll like it?” you asked softly.

“i think they’ll love it because you’re perfect, and funny, and beautiful, and i love you.” matt rambled.

“i love you too, matt,” you smiled.

you took his hand, once again, as he started the short drive back to his house.

comments:

i’ve never seen two people more perfect for eachother

the fact that matt wouldn’t let go of her hand the entire time did something to me

i don’t blame y/n. i too would get nervous if i was in the presence of matt sturniolo

nick and chris being the biggest supporters of their relationship and making them questions is so cute.

i can’t wait to see all of the posts matt makes about y/n now

crying at how adorable they are

an: i’m in love with this one and them. i hope y’all enjoyed it as well🤍🤍

#matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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racetowrite · 2 months ago

Text

Miami, baby

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader

Tags : slight edging, uprotected piv (fuck them kids)

Word Count : 3.2k

After years of painstakingly saving every penny, you finally had the chance to attend an F1 race. Today was the big day, your first-ever experience at an event filled with adrenaline and excitement. You wandered around, searching for some indication of where to go, when suddenly you accidentally bumped into someone.

He was moving with purpose, clearly rushing to get somewhere, and the impact was so significant that you stumbled and fell to the ground with a gasp.

You looked up, disoriented and a little dazed, to find yourself staring into a pair of intense green eyes. The man who had accidentally knocked you over appeared before you. He was tall, strong, and exuded an air of dominance and control. For a moment, the world seemed to move in slow motion as you gazed at him, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and concern, perhaps realizing that he had knocked you off balance. You weren't sure how to react, your body still feeling the impact of your fall. But then, he spoke, his voice deep and commanding yet gentle.

“Are you alright?” he asked, offering you a hand to help you stand up. His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the concern in his tone contrasting sharply with the authoritative quality he exuded.

Despite the confusion caused by the collision, you quickly realize that the person who helped you up is none other than Lando Norris, one of the most popular Formula One drivers on the grid.

Your eyes widen in recognition, but unlike other fans, you don't immediately erupt into a fit of screaming or gushing. Instead, your reaction is more subdued, a mixture of shock and reverence.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going," you apologize, your voice a little shaky. You're still feeling the aftershocks of bumping into such a famous figure, but you manage to maintain your composure.

"I'm glad I didn't hurt you badly," Lando replies, his tone still gentle despite the accident. He seems relieved that you aren't hurt, his gaze sweeping over you to make sure you're alright.

You offer him a grateful smile, still trying to process the fact that you're actually face-to-face with Lando Norris. "Thank you for helping me up," you say, your voice a little hoarse.

Lando is struck by how unlike other fans you are. You're not screaming, begging for a picture, or losing your composure. Instead, you're standing there, calm and collected, even after the unexpected collision. This catches his attention and intrigues him.

As he looks at you, he can't help but notice how beautiful you are. There's an innocence and purity in your expression that draws him in, making it difficult for him to look away.

His gaze becomes almost predatory, drinking in every detail of your features. He's captivated by your lack of hysterics and the way you're handling yourself in his presence. Lando is used to fans becoming tongue-tied and overwhelmed in front of him, but you seem completely unfazed.

You realize that the clock is ticking, and the qualifying session is about to start. You hesitate for a moment, knowing that it's time to part ways. You offer Lando a smile and say, "Well, it was nice meeting you, and good luck in the qualifying."

Lando's expression changes slightly. He doesn't want this encounter to end just yet, and the thought of you leaving his side gives him an unpleasant feeling. Without thinking, he finds himself saying, "Wait, why don't you come watch from my box?"

"You could have a better view from there," he adds, hoping that you'll agree to his invitation. Lando doesn't want to admit it out loud, but the idea of having you near him, cheering him on, is strangely appealing.

You feel a pang of guilt as Lando invites you to the McLaren box. You're aware of how expensive those tickets can be, and you don't want to impose or be a burden. But at the same time, you're oddly touched by his invitation, and you can't bring yourself to outright refuse.

Instead, you try to brush off his concern, saying, "Oh, you really don't owe me anything. You didn't knock me that badly, I'm fine."

Lando is taken aback by your response. He’s used to people jumping at the chance to be nearby, especially women who usually throw themselves at him. But you're different. You're not flustered or falling over yourself to accept his invitation. Instead, you brush it off, telling him he doesn’t owe you anything.

For Lando, it's a novel, exhilarating feeling. He finds himself strangely captivated, more intrigued by this unexpected exchange than by any race he’s ever competed in.

Your indifference piques his interest even more. He's suddenly feeling challenged, like he's faced with a puzzle he needs to solve. No one has ever rejected his offer, let alone so nonchalantly. It's frustrating, but in a strangely addictive way. Lando can't help but find himself fascinated by this interaction, his mind more focused on you than on the impending race.

Lando's mind is racing, trying to find a way to keep the interaction going. He doesn't want to let you walk away, not yet. Thinking quickly, he comes up with an excuse.

"Hey, listen," he says, his tone slightly casual, "You should give me your number. Just in case, you know, if you need anything or... something like that."

You can't help but let out a soft laugh at Lando's insistence. You find yourself touched by his concern, but also amused by his persistence.

"Seriously, I'm fine," you assure him again, your voice filled with a hint of humor. "You didn't knock me down that badly. I'm not some damsel in distress, you know."

Lando can't help but chuckle a little at your playful response. He's never met someone so unfazed by his presence, someone who actually has a sense of humor.

“Yeah, I guess you’re not,” he replies, his tone becoming more relaxed. "But still, I'd feel better if I had a way to check up on you. Just in case."

Despite your earlier protests, you can't argue with Lando's insistence. There's something earnest in his tone, a genuine concern for your well-being that’s hard to ignore. Reluctantly, you find yourself agreeing.

"Alright, fine," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You can have my number if it'll make you feel better."

Lando's face lights up at your words. He hadn't expected you to give in so easily, but he can't deny the feeling of victory that floods through him. With a satisfied grin, he pulls out his phone and hands it to you.

"Great, beautiful. Put your number in here."

As you hand back his phone, your fingers briefly touch, and Lando feels an unexpected spark of electricity shoot through him at the contact. Just before you say goodbye, Lando suddenly hesitates, looking at your tousled hair. With a sly grin, he takes off his signature cap and places it on top of your head, adjusting it slightly so it sits comfortably on you.

"Wear this. Maybe it'll bring me luck," he grins. "And make sure you're cheering for me, okay?"

You can't help but feel a sudden rush of warmth at the gesture. The cap feels oddly comfortable on your head, like a piece of Lando is somehow with you now. You offer him a small smile, your fingers gently touching the cap.

"I'll be your biggest cheerleader," you promise, a hint of amusement in your voice. "Good luck, Lando."

Lando heads off to the McLaren garage, his thoughts whirling in his mind. Although he should be focused solely on the upcoming qualification, he can't keep his thoughts off you. Your nonchalant attitude, your lack of fangirling, and the way you've agreed to give him your number - it all leaves him slightly off-kilter.

He tries to shake off the distraction, to concentrate on his car and his performance. But the image of your smile, and the feeling of your touch, linger in his mind, making it difficult for him to fully immerse himself in the usual pre-qualification anticipation.

Lando quickly snaps out of his thoughts, though. He knows he needs to get in the zone. He puts on his driving gear, his mind focusing on the qualifying ahead, pushing you out of his mind. But even as he does so, his heart beats a little faster than usual, eager to impress you, the mysterious girl who captured his attention from a simple accident.

After placing p1 in qualifying, Lando's heart is still racing with adrenaline. He's thrilled with his performance, but there's something else he's excited about. He remembers the promise you made, that you would be there cheering him on.

As soon as he has a moment, Lando pulls out his phone and types out a quick message to you: "Hey, I placed p1. See you tomorrow at the race, yeah?"

Lando hits send on the message, but a moment later, he realises he's forgotten something crucial. He doesn't know your name. This thought sends a pang of frustration through him. How could he have forgotten to ask for your name?

With a small sigh, Lando types another message, this time asking, "By the way, I never got your name."

Lando's attention is now fully focused on his phone, waiting anxiously for your response. When your text comes through, he's slightly surprised.

"Y/N," he repeats to himself, testing out the name in his mind. "I like it."

He's about to reply when he sees you mention that you'll be watching him tomorrow. A sense of satisfaction and anticipation fills him, knowing you'll be there in the stands, cheering him on.

Lando sends a quick reply: "Can't wait. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

“I promise to be there.”

He can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing you again, in the stands, cheering just for him. The thought of impressing you with his race only fuels his determination to win even more.

The day of the Miami Grand Prix arrives, and Lando is filled with a mix of excitement and determination. As he steps into his car, he can't help but think of you, a silent motivator in his mind. The race is intense, a chaotic whirlwind of speed and strategy. But Lando's focus is unwavering, thanks to the thought of you in the stands, watching him, cheering him on.

As he crosses the finish line, first place, Lando feels a rush of triumph. He's won his first Grand Prix, right in front of you.

Lando's heart is pounding as he climbs out of the car, the sounds of the crowd and the congratulations of his team a blur around him. All he can think of is finding you in the stands, seeing your reaction to his win. Lando quickly finds his way to the stands, searching for you amidst the sea of fans. And when he spots you, his heart stutters for a moment. You're standing there, a wide smile on your face, and the sight of you makes his victory even sweeter.

Lando is floating on a cloud of triumph.

The whole time, from the interviews to the celebration, Lando's gaze keeps flicking to the crowd, looking for you. Every time he locks eyes with you, a wave of excitement washes over him, making his victory even more meaningful.

Land of has to go through the usual routine after the race - interviews, press conferences, team debriefs. By the time he's finally free, it feels like hours have passed.

He hurries to the McLaren garage, his heart racing with anticipation. When he spots you outside, he feels a mix of relief and excitement. He quickly walks over to you, a wide smile on his face.

"You waited," Lando says, a hint of surprise and gratitude in his voice. He's still in his race suit, dusted with champagne and the exhaustion of the race. But he's too excited to see you to care about how he looks. You smile back at him, the sight of his boyish grin warming your heart.

"I promised, didn't I?" You reply, your tone light.

He takes a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "That you did," he nods, his eyes dancing with a mixture of adrenaline and amusement. He looks around, suddenly aware of the curious glances from the crew and other drivers. He grabs your hand and leads you away from the crowd, to a more secluded spot.

Lando's hand encloses around yours, and a small shock of electricity shoots through you at the sudden contact. You're surprised at how warm his hand is, how firm his grip is. It's a simple touch, a brief moment of skin against skin, but it leaves you feeling a bit flushed.

You look up at Lando, who's still leading you along, and see a hint of a smirk on his lips. He's aware of the effect his touch has on you, but you're unaware that he's equally affected.

The night progresses, and somehow, you end up in Lando's hotel room, the adrenaline from the race still coursing through his veins. As the door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts, a charged tension filling the air.

Lando looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. He steps closer, his proximity making your heart race in your chest. The space between you feels electric, the air between you taut with desire.

Lando doesn’t wait any longer. He moves closer, his hand cupping your cheek, his gaze burning into yours. "I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you," he murmurs, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine.

A couple of hours later, Lando feels like he’s in heaven.

Your head has been between his thighs for what has to be an hour now, his hand buried in your pretty hair, dragging your lips up and down his dripping cock. From the position, you on your knees beside your shared bed while he sits atop it, Lando fucking your face, it seems like he has all the power. But he knows better. He knows you’re letting him do this; that you, even with your bruised knees and puffy lips, have control over him. Over his mind, his body, his fucking soul.

“Baby, baby, please let me cum,” he whimpers into the quiet of the room, the only sounds echoing in his ears are his little grunts and moans and your obscene slurping around the length of him. “Can’t hold it anymore, y’feel so good, sweetheart.”

But you pull off his cock as soon as the words leave his lips, leaving him aching again. The whine he lets out is demeaning, embarrassing, but you wrap your hand around his cock, jacking him slowly while Lando hears you giggle softly.

“Are you gonna cum before you’ve even gotten my pussy?” You’re teasing him, you’ve been teasing him for the past few hours since you’ve been in his hotel room “Come on baby, you want to be inside me? You’ve been so good.”

Lando nods frantically, unthinking and delirious. “Please, please let me have you baby? I need it so bad. Please sweetheart, ple-”

“lay back for me?” And Lando shoves himself backward, laying himself onto the soft silk sheets. He barely has a chance to prepare himself before you’re standing and straddling him, working the tip of his cock into your dripping cunt.

And Lando knows, he knows, that this is the closest he’ll get to heaven. You moan as you sink down onto him, tight pussy clenching as you work your hips, and Lando almost rips a hole into the sheets with the effort not to thrust up into you, not to fucking cum inside you, right then and there. He’s mumbling nearly incoherently, little praises of “Baby, your pussy feels so good, you’re so tight, so fucking warm, god.”

And you can’t help but think how pretty Lando looks, all flushed and red, nipples still puffy from how you played with them hours earlier, chest heaving with his labored breaths. You rock your hips against him, running your nails down his chest as Lando chokes on a moan.

“You’re so good, baby,” you say, and Lando keens under the praise. “Your cock is so big. Fills me up so good. You stuff me so full, Lan.”

“Please” Lando groans, lips red and puffy from his biting.

“What, baby,” you ask, leaning down to nuzzle under his jaw, leaving soft kisses on his sensitive neck. You’re still grinding your hips, his balls and thighs all sticky from your sopping pussy.

“What do you need, Lan?”

“I need, I need-” Lando stutters, struggling to take a breath. “I need to fuck you baby. Oh god, please, please let me fuck you? Need it so bad.”

Lando knows that it's a long shot, that you could easily refuse him, and he’d let you, just as he’s been letting you refuse him for hours. But you grin between the kisses you’re leaving on his neck, your hips finally coming to a stop. “You’ve been so good. You’ve won the race. Come on, baby, you can fuck me.”

Lando doesn’t need to be told twice.

He tries not to mourn the loss of you around his cock as he slips out of you, quickly rolling you over. He slots himself between your spread thighs, shoving himself back into your gaping cunt, relishing in the pretty moan you let out. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head, a sharp gasp escaping his throat at the overwhelming heat of you.

He bucks into you uncontrollably, slamming into your pretty cunt with reckless abandon. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, hips working endlessly into you, balls slapping against your ass as he mouths at your soft skin.

Your nails are digging into his back as he ruts into your pussy, punching little ah, ah, ahs, out of your chest with every thrust.

You clench so fucking tight around his cock when you cum, a garbled “Lan, fuck, oh god-” leaving your lips as your hips shake and your vision goes white.

Lando is just babbling feverishly into your neck, a long string of “Thank you, thank you, oh god. Love your pussy, thank you for giving me your pussy, you make me feel so good, shit-” and he’s cumming, thick cum shooting deep into your pussy, all while he thanks you.

He doesn’t let you go for a long time, his strong arms wrapped around you as he twitches with the aftershock of his orgasm. You run a calming hand down his back, lightly tracing his scars while you wait for him to breathe normally again. You praise him softly, whispering into his hair, “You did so good, Lando. Made me feel so good baby, you’re so perfect.”

After a few minutes, Lando pulls you closer, his arms encircling you, his body warm and solid against yours. He buries his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.

"You're the real win this weekend," he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I might have won the race, but finding you, this moment with you...that's what really matters. And I'm not letting you go now that I've found you."

#f1 smut #formula one #formula 1 #smut #formula one smut #lando norris #formula 1 smut #lando norris x female reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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izzystizzys · 3 months ago

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Echo’s world has gone decidedly… wobbly. Blurry. Fuzzy at the edges, and what-will-you-else. He can’t feel his fingertips, is his first thought. Kriffing overdid it on the glowing green shots, is his second.

“Holy kriff, Echo, that manhole-cover underneath you is moving!”, Fives exclaims, third. Or more like slurs into Lt. Jesse’s shoulder, who is himself moaning indistinctly into the Captain’s pauldron, who is in turn swaying back and forth gesturing at Commander Cody.

And it really is - the manhole cover, that is, once Echo stumbles off it with a shriek. Jumping up into the now open air with sudden force, steadying and then scraping across paveme-

“Are those kriffing hands?!”

In an instant, seven highly drunk pairs of fists and one blaster, courtesy of Commander Cody (the only one present who’s sober enough to be legally handling it) are aimed in a circle around the cover slowly being shuffled to the side, then the hands reaching up to palm at the edges of the hole -

- and are slowly being lowered again when two white-red painted helmets are heaved into view, along with chest-deep groaning and grunting. Two armored Corries collapse in a heap at Commander Cody’s feet, who stares down at them in open-mouthed shock.

Slowly, Echo blinks. Slowly, he raises a hand to snap his fingers in front of his face. No, still there. Slowly, Fives grabs for a piece of flank underneath his blacks and twists. Echo yelps, and slaps his hand away hard enough to hurt himself. “OI!”

“B’have, boys”, Captain Rex makes a brave attempt to slur out as he sways on his feet, still staring down at the trembling heap of armor at their feet. Whoa, Echo didn’t know they had those kinds of funky armor designs in the Guard. Very avant-garde.

“That’s blood, Ey’ika”, says Appo.

Oh.

Slowly, Hardcase raises his right foot, inching towards-

“Don’t even think about it”, Commander Cody snaps, and Hardcase’s foot whips back to the ground next to its companion. Fives chortles. “Yeah, genius, those are Commander kamas - they’d put you down in a second flat!”

“Why would two Corrie Commanders go crawling out of holes in front of 79’s, huh, genius?!”, Hardcase retorts, somewhat justly, Echo feels. Next to him, Commander Cody frowns, and kneels carefully. “Good question, trooper. Fox, can you hear me? Fox’i-“

Which is when one of the bodies - Commander Fox, Echo realizes with a shudder, The Marshall Commander Fox - convulses on the ground, and an arm rears up to nail Cody face-first with the back of a hand, sending him sprawling back into the pavement with an undignified squawk.

“Thorn”, the sad figure that is the highest decorated clone in existence groans, still faceplanted into pavement, “Thorn, I’m hallucinating Cody. Thorn, tell him to shut up.”

“Shuddup”, Commander Thorn heaves, loyally. Cody makes an affronted noise, braced back on his shebs. “Sdubid Codeh.”

Commander Fox’s visor scrapes against the ground with his nod, a sound that sends the surrounding vod’e cringing. “Yeah, you go, Thorn. You’re my favorite.” A considering pause. “Oh, kark. I need to call in medevac - Fox to Stabby, Fox to Stabby - the kriffing Narglatches are back on the lower levels.”

The Commander’s comm crackles to life, as he heaves himself over with a punched-out moan - oh, yup, that dark patch’s definitely not paint, and are those teeth marks?! On plastoid??

“I’m going to wring Senator Hliii’s neck, and then I’m going to twist him into a human kriffing meat-lasso to catch every last one of his little pets with”, sounds through Fox’s comm, who just hacks out a laughcough in response. “Pinging your location now. Where’s Thorn?”

“Pr’snt”, slurs Thorn.

“Concussed”, adds Fox, “We crawled out forty levels to behind 79’s, so no one would see us.”

Awkward silence follows.

“Uh, about that”, begins Rex, only to be interrupted by a deep groan from Fox.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kriffing kidding me! As if Cody’s ugly mug wasn’t - WHAT THE KRIFF ARE YOUR KRIFFING ARC KARKHEADS DOING IN MY HALLUCINATION, REX?!”

“Shuddup, Rex”, Thorn moans bravely.

#sw tcw #commander fox #commander thorn #commander cody #captain rex #tcw fives #tcw echo #tcw jesse #tcw hardcase #tcw kix #tcw appo #fox is very annoyed by the news that he miscalculated sewer exits by two alleys #‘out of my way kote’ he says and drags thorn two alleys over #why didn’t he kill the narglatches you wonder? so does cody #cody. cody. sweet cody. am i sentient? asks fox. no? are the narglatches classified as protected animals? yes? then what the kriff #do you think they’ll do to the non sentient military weapon that murdered a pack of protected creatures in the middle of coruscant?#good talk #NO screams cody HORRIBLE TALK ACTUALLY. VERY BAD NO GOOD HORRIBLE TALK #you’re delirious from blood loss fox. your vitals are concerning fox. pah. tell me something i don’t know #i love you and am worried ahout you fox says cody #….motherkriffer whispers fox through tears #and that’s how cody and rex fix coruscant once they get fox to a medbay with bacta and recover from ‘their’ hangover #stabby not only sends them foxs full unredacted medical file but also speederload of handcuffs and industrial rope #to keep him contained he says with a smile #rex and cody slowly inch back #thorn is fine don’t worry <3 #he does keep telling various people to shut up on the way to being fine tho #obi wan thinks it’s hilarious #anakin thinks it’s very confusing #no i don’t know what this is either bear with me i’m not sleeping lmao

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pickingupmymercedes · 1 month ago

Text

Agora Hills - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Agora Hills - Doja Cat - @greedyjudge2

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff, bits of angst

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Y/n sat on the balcony of Lewis’s Monaco apartment, the soft hum of the city below blending with the rhythmic sound of waves hitting the shore. The yachts floating in the harbor cast glowing reflections on the water, the sea shimmering under the moonlight like it didn’t care that the entire world now knew she was with Lewis.

The view was breathtaking, but her mind was elsewhere—trapped in the chaos that followed her latest Instagram post.

Her fingers absently scrolled through the comments, her feed flooded with reactions. Some were congratulatory, filled with heart emojis and well wishes. Others, not so much—there was shock, skepticism, those who’d convinced themselves this day would never come, and, of course, the inevitable chatter about their age difference.

She sensed Lewis before she saw him, the familiar sound of the sliding door breaking the quiet of the night.

He stepped onto the balcony, barefoot and shirtless, the sea breeze tousling his loose curls. He wore only a pair of workout shorts, his skin still humid from a shower.

Without a word, he dropped into the chair beside her, his body naturally leaning into hers as if they’d done this a hundred times before.

And they had, in private, away from prying eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten this many comments on a post on my personal profile,” she quipped, handing him her phone. There was a slight edge to her voice, but her expression stayed neutral, calm.

Lewis took the phone, scanning through the flood of responses. His lips curled into a familiar grin. “People love a good scandal.”

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, we’re a scandal now?”

He gave her a playful side-eye. “A prominent young interior designer from LA and an old F1 driver? Babe, we’ve been a scandal since that first photo of us on the beach leaked.”

She let out a laugh, the sound light, but laced with the weight of the truth. “They don’t even know half of it.”

“And they don’t need to,” he said simply, lowering her phone onto the small table between them. His voice was calm, but the meaning was firm. “What we have? It’s ours. No one else.”

Y/n sighed, tilting her head back to look at the stars—ones she could never see clearly in LA, hidden behind the glare of city lights. “It’s just... It’s always about how everyone things we’re in different stages of life. Like I’m not supposed to have my life together because I’m younger.”

Lewis shifted, facing her more directly, his eyes catching the moonlight. “You know what you want and you stated that to me, very clearly, from the start. We’ve always been on the same page.”

“I know,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “But sometimes the noise gets loud. I mean, I’m 25, Lewis. They act like I’m some kid figuring things out, but I’m not. I’ve worked for everything I have.”

He smiled gently. “You’re killing it. You’ve got major projects lined up, your business is growing, I don’t think there’s anyone out there who could say you don’t have your shit together... and” he added with a grin “I don’t care what they think. I care about us.”

Y/n reached out, running her fingers along his jaw. “And we’re good. We’ve always been good. There’s just something about seeing it all out there now. No more guessing, no more rumors. It feels big.”

“It is” he said, taking both of her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “But I truly I want to show you off. Brag about us.”

“Now you sound like a boomer” She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk forming on her lips.

“Yeah? Well, I am. And I want to be the guy who brags about his girl to the whole world.” He laughed, a deep sound as his eyes softened. “I mean it, Y/n. I want the world to know how lucky I am.”

Her teasing smile faltered as his words sunk in. There was a sincerity in his voice that made her heart swell, a reminder of just how long they’d been dancing around this moment.

The nights spent apart while she worked late and he traveled for races, the quiet dinners in hidden corners of different cities, the whispered phone calls in hotel rooms where they’d talk about everything except the world waiting outside the door.

And yet, through it all, they had been steady. Solid.

“I want that too” she admitted quietly. “I want everyone to know I’m with you. That I’m happy with you.”

Lewis smiled; his thumb tracing circles on her hand. “And if people don’t get it, they don’t have to. I’m not looking for validation from anyone but you.”

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a slow, deliberate kiss. The kind that made everything else—the comments, the headlines, the opinions—fade away.

When she pulled back, there was a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You always know just what to say, don’t you?” she teased.

“I’ve had practice,” he replied with a grin. “But you’re going to have to get used to this. Especially if you keep dropping hints like that caption.”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “You mean ‘tie the knot’?”

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. “They’ve been asking me that since I started racing. At this point, I’ve got answers for every version of the question.”

“Do you?” she asked, her tone shifting, becoming more serious. Her gaze searched his face, looking for the truth behind his casual words.

His expression softened, the playful tone giving way to something more genuine. “You know I do. But only when you’re ready. We’ve got time, Y/n. I’m not in a rush.”

She let out a breath, feeling the tension ease out of her shoulders. “Good. Because I want it to be on our terms. Not anyone else’s.”

“It will” he promised, pulling her closer. His arm wrapped around her waist, warm and solid, the weight of it a comfort. “Everything we do, it will always be on our terms.”

They sat wrapped in each other for a while, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. The lights from the yachts flickered on the water, the city humming in the background, but it all felt distant—like the world could wait just a little longer.

Eventually, her phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with notifications. Y/n glanced at it, her expression an amused smile.

“Yeah” she said, holding the phone out for him to see. “I too would be losing my mind if I found out you were taken”

Lewis took the phone, scrolling through the latest flood of comments. He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Good. They’ll figure out eventually that we’re not going anywhere.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice calm and certain. “They will.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you #ella1k

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loveinhawkins · 1 year ago

Text

Thinking about Eddie, who’s known he’s gay since the first inkling of burgeoning crushes in middle school, but who still has partial blinkers on when it comes to how he views Steve.

Because to him, Steve fits right into the picture perfect story of high school. It’s easy to play a game of self-denial whenever they cross paths by the lockers, and Eddie’s eyes are drawn to him; easy to say it’s just because it’s the Steve Harrington, everyone takes notice if he’s around, it’s just the way it is, it’s…

And Steve in The Upside Down, listening to Eddie weave this lyrical picture of an archetypal popular boy, feeling a tinge of amusement and a growing vulnerability, an ache in his chest; he smiles when Eddie enthuses, like a reverent narrator, about tales of The Harrington House, where his parties were apparently the stuff of legend.

And Steve kinda laughs a bit, even though he feels… not sad exactly, but…

The thing is, he’s only ever had one proper party: in freshman year, just a kid, so eager to be liked. It had been gatecrashed by seniors and college students who took advantage of a large empty house with no authority figure.

Since then, sure, he’d acted all cocksure, still called them parties even if it was just him, Tommy and Carol.

In Steve’s eyes, he’s sort of always been a little try-hard, perhaps—reaching for something he could never quite grasp. Something he wasn’t even sure he wanted in the first place.

He doesn’t know how to express that yet. It’s too much to chip away at, while him and Eddie are tiptoeing over vines. Tiptoeing around each other.

It comes out as a scoff, “I don’t think I’m as cool as you think I am,” which isn’t what he means, really.

“But people adored you,” Eddie says sincerely, and he’s off on another tangent, another one of his stories.

But this one feels a little different.

He’s talking about winter, about how some teachers would ask Steve to help set up Christmas trees in the cafeteria, how girls would watch him with stars in their eyes; how Steve would pause and hold up the ornaments, in a world of his own, waiting for them to catch the light.

When Eddie’s finished, Steve realises that somewhere along the way, he’d started holding his breath.

“Yeah, I, um. I really don’t think people noticed all that, Eddie.”

“Well, they should have,” Eddie says, almost indignant, thinking, why the hell wouldn’t they? There’s so much to notice about you.

And then he stumbles, narrowly missing a vine; Steve flings out a hand to keep him upright, and oh.

The story—the big one—falls away.

“I noticed,” Eddie says softly.

Steve’s hand is still on his forearm.

“I know,” Steve says, struck by the thought that he’s been seen by someone—perhaps before he even really knew himself.

#Eddie getting caught up in his own romantic storytelling but then still ending up truly seeing Steve in the end #a combination of headcanons and analysis i keep ticking over. they are so layered ❤️#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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loving-barnes · 9 months ago

Text

LOGAN HOWLETT - REVELATION

A/N: Here comes chapter FIVE! Wow, I can't believe I am still writing this. But I am here for it. I do this for fun and share my fun with you. So, enjoy. Thoughts are appreciated.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: angst

Summary: Scott decided to be a dick and share something he shouldn't.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 4300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Four

LOGAN HOWLETT - REVELATION

Y/N’s body twitched in her sleep. Her mind was filled with the scenes of the moment she used her forcefield in Salem. In the dream, she felt her power radiating through her body. And then, the power engulfed her. She felt powerful like never before. As if she could defeat the whole world that was against her. Her body glowed like a star in the midnight sky.

She gasped and opened her eyes, panting. “Y/N?” she heard her name. Her eyes found Logan staring at her. His hand was on her shoulder, gripping it tightly.

She blinked a few times. “Where are we?”

“Back at school,” he said.

Logan leaned a bit closer to her. He noticed something strange. It appeared her irises changed colour for a second. It was faint, but it was there. “Are you okay, kid?”

Her breathing calmed, and she nodded. “Yeah. It was just a dream.” She turned behind her.

JJ was asleep in the back. After such a long time, he was able to sleep peacefully. His legs were resting on the seats, and he was hugging himself. He had the whole back seat for himself. It brought a smile to Y/N’s face.

She reached for him and gently tapped his leg. “We’re here,” she whispered to Jerome. The boy yawned, and his eyes met her. She helped him out of the car.

“This is the school?” he asked. What he saw was a garage full of cars and two motorbikes.

Logan walked to Y/N. He lifted her head up to have a better look at her eyes. They were back to their regular colour. She wanted to say something. However, Logan was faster. “You look like shit,” he whispered.

Y/N got annoyed by that. “Have you seen you?” she raised a brow and pointed at his bloodied clothes.

Jerome grabbed Y/N’s hand when they moved from the garage. All three walked to the main hall. It was still early. The hallways were empty, and the school was dead silent. The day would slowly start in about an hour. “Where is everyone?” Jerome asked.

“Asleep.”

They heard someone run down the stairs. First, it was Jean who appeared. She wore a red robe wrapped around her body, and her hair was tousled. Her mouth almost fell on the floor when she saw Logan and Y/N with the boy they planned to save. “Oh my god,” she gasped. As a telepath, she knew when they arrived. This, she couldn’t see. “How?”

Scott was right behind her. He wore his long pyjama pants and a white tank top. Anger was evident on his face. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said crossly.

More footsteps followed. Of course, Jean called them through telepathy. Kitty and Bobby arrived together. Bobby had workout clothes on, and Kitty was in a long t-shirt that ended under her ass. Finally, Storm ran to them, already dressed for the day.

It wasn’t a pleasant view seeing them covered in blood. They knew Logan was fine. Y/N, on the other hand, bled like everyone else. “Are you alright?” Storm approached Y/N, grabbed her chin between her fingers, scanning her face.

“We are fine,” Logan answered for them.

“You don’t look like it,” Storm scowled. “What the hell happened?”

“Take the boy and check him up. We need to figure out how to take off that damn thing around his neck,” he pointed at the collar Jerome had.

Jean walked to the boy with a smile. She reached her hand to his. “Come with me,” she said gently. He didn’t want to let go of Y/N’s hand. She was his secure place.

“JJ,” Y/N looked down at him. “This is my friend Jean. She’ll have a look at you and see the bruises, okay? These people will only help, I swear. I will come to you once we finish some business here.” Her other hand gently stroked the boy’s cheek.

“Promise?” And she nodded.

JJ let go of Y/N and took Jean’s hand instead. She walked him through the hallway into a hidden elevator. She kept talking to him, explaining everything on the go. Jean was lovely to him and patient.

Y/N closed her eyes. She felt a pulsing sensation happening inside her body. She grunted and stretched her neck. Huh, that’s new.

Logan stepped closer to her, noticing the change. Something was off. He could feel it. That’s why he decided to stay close, in case she needed help. His eyes moved to Scott. His anger filled the room. He knew a big fight was about to start. As pissed as Logan was for recklessly getting the boy out, he understood it all. It was a ‘now or never’ situation.

“How did you get the boy out?” Kitty was the first to talk. She appeared to be genuinely curious. “Wasn’t that supposed to be a team effort?”

“Clearly, Y/N doesn’t know that word,” Scott scoffed. “If she did, she’d known to wait for orders and let us handle the situation. You know, we are more experienced than you. We’ve been doing this for years.”

“And while you did absolutely nothing, Logan and I got him out,” she talked back and took a step closer to him. Y/N wanted to show Scott she wasn’t afraid of him. “It wasn’t the plan, but it had to be done.”

“Can’t believe you talked Logan into this,” said Scott. “I thought at least someone would have more intellect. I guess I was wrong.”

Logan pushed through Y/N, stepping right in front of Cyclops. He grabbed him by the tank top. “Watch your mouth, Scotty. You have no idea what happened and how it happened. Before you point fingers and accuse anyone of anything, try to find out information about things.”

“Look at you,” Scott laughed. “She’s got inside your head, hasn’t she? She whistles, and like a good dog, you come to her leg and sit.”

Y/N frowned. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Logan’s claws were out, his fists clenched tightly. Y/N decided to intervene before there would be spilt blood. She ran to Scott and shoved him. “What is your problem, dude?”

“You are my problem,” he snarled. “Ever since you came here, everyone has been running around you. As if you were some kind of miracle among mutants. Well, guess what? You are not special.”

“Scott, what is the matter with you?” asked Storm. It was weird acting like this. “No one has given her any special attention like you think. We treat everyone equally.”

“Ah, Scott, you are jealous, eh?” Logan smirked. “Look at ya, bub. It’s kinda sad.”

“What the fuck?” Y/N raised her voice. “I don’t get this, Scott. Why are you acting like this? What have I ever done to you? You don’t even know me.”

He took a deep breath, grinning. “I know what you did,” he said darkly. “I can’t believe the Professor let you stay here among all these kids. You are a danger to them.”

“What?” they all asked in chorus.

“Hold on, what are you talking about?” Bobby asked Scott.

Y/N’s heart dropped. Her eyes widened in fear, and she took a step back. How did he know about it? Did the Professor tell him about her past? Her fists clenched. “It was an accident.”

“Was it?”

All eyes moved to Y/N. They waited for an explanation. She didn’t want to talk about it, not like this anyway. Her hands were cold, and her body shivered. Why did it have to be like this? She would tell them once she was ready. She shook her head and pursed her lips. Y/N’s heart beat fast. She could hear it in her ears and feel it in her throat.

“How do you know about it?” she muttered. “Who told you?”

“I did some research. Do you know there is an article about what you did?” Scott grinned. He felt like a winner. Everyone would know who she really was - a murderer. “At first, it was presented as a gas explosion. Later, your own father revealed the truth.”

The world was falling down on her. She forgot it was out there, on the internet, for the whole world to see. Her lower lip quivered, and Y/N wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted to scream, cry, even throw a tantrum. Some wicked part of her wanted to snap his neck for opening his damn mouth.

“You killed your own little sister,” Scott revealed her past, the darkest secret she owned.

When he said the words out loud, Y/N felt like drowning. She couldn’t breathe. The pulsing sensation got stronger. Her head hurt, and her insides twisted and turned. Scott’s words echoed inside her mind. “Stop!” She screamed from the top of her lungs.

With that scream, she unleashed the emotions in the form of a forcefield that burst out of her body. It hit everything around her, everyone standing in the hallway with her. The people who took her in were thrown against the nearest walls and stairs. Storm hit her body against a door. Kitty and Bobby were thrown into the stairs. Logan’s body flew into an ancient statue that broke under his weight. Scott got thrown out the nearest window and farther away into the gardens.

That forcefield drained Y/N out of all the energy she had stored. It caused her to collapse on the hardwood floors, unconscious. More blood came running out of her nose.

The first person who got up was Logan. Thanks to his fast healing, he was able to shake it off. “Shit,” he cursed when he saw what happened. Everyone was down. Kitty and Bobby were moaning from the stairs. Storm was still out. His eyes found the damaged window. And in the middle of it was Y/N.

Beast ran to them, already in his fancy suit. He must have been in the labs. “What the hell happened here?” He fell on his knees next to Storm, gently tapping her cheeks. When she opened her eyes, he was relieved.

Logan peeked out of the broken window and saw Scott lying on the ground, groaning in pain. “Scott decided to be a dick,” he said.

“What was that?” Storm’s voice caught Logan’s attention. Her eyes lowered. “Oh, god, Y/N.”

That set of information made everyone question who Y/N was. Storm’s head was filled with doubts. If Y/N killed her little sister, was it safe for her to be here? On the other hand, it could have been an accident.

Logan tried to be neutral in this matter. There had to be an explanation for everything. Y/N said to him she had blood on her hands. He knew he shouldn’t judge her. He also made mistakes and killed people. But he never killed a kid.

. . .

Murderer..! Psychopath..! You killed her..! Freak..!

“Y/N?”

A ringing sound echoed in Y/N’s ears. There was even something that reminded her of a whistling train. And then someone said her name. Who’s voice was that? She wasn’t able to open her eyes and have a look. Her body wasn’t strong enough. Or maybe she didn’t want to face the reality.

You killed your little sister, Scott’s voice rang in her head. Y/N huffed loudly. The person who was present in the room with her heard it.

“Y/N?” The voice belonged to the Professor. “Can you hear me?”

She rolled her head to the side, following his voice. When her eyes opened, Charles had a concerned expression on his face. Y/N didn’t express any feelings. She had her eyes locked with his. Maybe she tried to find something in them, anything. No one was present except for them.

There was a prodding sensation in her head. It didn’t hurt. It felt as if someone was gently tapping on the door. “Are you trying to get inside my head?” Y/N asked him after a minute of silence. “I won’t let you in.”

The man sighed. “I want you to remain calm while we talk.”

Y/N sat up and stretched her neck. “How long was I out?”

“A few days,” Charles replied. “Your power shut down your body. It needed time to recharge.”

“Don’t like you care,” she scoffed.

“I do. We all do.”

“Bullshit.” Y/N turned her body to him, feet dangling in the air. “Cut to the chase, Professor. Say what you want to say before I leave.”

“Leave?” Charles was confused.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m a danger to the kids, aren’t I? I should not be here, in a school, where I can hurt more people, young people. Scott said it clearly.”

You killed her..! You are a monster..! Murderer..!

“Scott doesn’t know the whole story,” Charles said calmly. “He should’ve never talked to you like that - accuse you of something he knows nothing about.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said strictly. “People know, and opinions were made. I am not welcome here anymore.”

He sighed. “Why don’t you tell them how it actually happened? It’s your story to tell.”

“They won’t listen,” she clenched her fists and pursed her lips. “Not now. Besides, I don’t want to persuade them about anything. Telling my story was taken away from me. Scott wanted to give everyone a reason not to trust me.”

Y/N took off the cables stuck to her body and then stood up on her feet. She noticed her clothes were changed into a different one. Someone must have done it while she was unconscious. “Promise me you’ll take care of JJ. That’s the only thing I want.”

“I won’t let you leave, Y/N,” Charles wheeled before her, grabbing her by the wrist. “I’ve seen the good inside of you. Everything that happened with your sister was an accident. You didn’t know what you were doing. You were fifteen.” It was rare to hear Charles with a stern voice.

“Don’t…”

“I have talked to Scott once he could leave the bed. Nothing can excuse his behaviour towards you. But I know Scott. I know he’s a good guy,” Charles continued.

“The fuck he is,” she growled. “If he was, he’d act like a good guy and not a dick. He would wait or ask or say it between four eyes. This was pure spiteful. As if I was the one who hurt him in the past. As if I killed his sister or a child. That’s how it feels to me. He wanted to show everyone that I was a harmful person.”

“Y/N,” Charles said her name gently. “Scott doesn’t trust easily. After everything he went through, he’s careful and observant.”

“That doesn’t excuse his behaviour,” she said through teeth. “He did this. He made me hurt everyone around me.”

“And that is another thing we need to discuss,” said the Professor. “Your mutation is evolving fast. Logan told me you created another forcefield around the boy while you had one around yourself. That is impressive.”

Y/N yanked her wrist out of his hold. “Are you trying to say my mutation has made me unpredictable and dangerous?”

“No,” he shook his head. “All I’m saying is, I want to help you to reach your full potential and learn how to control it.”

“How can I trust you?” she glared at him. “After everything that went down, how can I know you are not lying? What if it was you who told Scott everything?”

The Professor shook his head. “I told you it is your story to tell. I’d never do anything to break your trust. What I told you when you arrived still stands. This is a safe place for mutants. No one will harm you here-”

“And yet someone did,” she said. “It started a chained reaction. Scott hurt me emotionally, and I hurt everyone physically.” Those were her last words. She left the professor in the infirmary and walked back to her room.

She tried to find a way to not be seen. She was not in the mood to talk to anyone. Y/N wanted to hide in her bedroom and think about what to do next. Leaving would be the best option for everyone. Why stay in a place where people hate you or fear you? Yes, they gave her a home and provided her with food. She should be thankful. She was thankful. In the end, Scott took a piece of her. Now, she wasn’t able to trust them.

“Hello, sleeping beauty.”

Y/N stopped walking. She wasn’t surprised to hear Logan’s voice. Of all people, he would be the first to find her walking around the school. She turned her head to the side, signing she acknowledged his presence. No words left her mouth.

He walked closer to her. “How you doin’, kid?”

“Fine,” she uttered and continued walking to the upper level.

Logan didn’t like that as an answer. He quickly followed her, trying to reach her before she got to her room. “Come on, Y/N, talk to me.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” she sighed.

“You kiddin’ me, right?” he reached for her shoulder and made her turn around. “There’s a lot to talk about, Y/N.”

“No, Logan, there isn’t,” she shook off his hand and stepped back. “Enough has been said. You’ve all heard what I’ve done, and I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t give a shit what you all think of me. So, leave me alone.”

“You are goin’ to leave, aren’t ya?” Logan stated, eyes never leaving her.

“Don’t act like you care,” she turned on her heel and continued walking.

Logan breathed heavily but decided not to follow. His eyes watched her until she was out of his sight. That woman was something else - strong, stubborn and a survivor. He wouldn’t let her go that easily.

. . .

Y/N remained in her room until late evening. She had a backpack where she packed only necessary clothing. Her whole body screamed to run, leave and never look back.

Murderer..! Killed her little sister..! Freak..!

It pained her to leave JJ in this place alone. He was a child, and he needed stability and education. That’s something she couldn’t provide for him. Y/N knew he would be safe in here. She was dangerous. What if she also killed him?

Y/N opened the door and peeked outside. The hallway was empty. At this time, the students were asleep. She left her room and silently ran down the stairs to the main entrance.

The plan was simple - leave the school and walk as far as her legs would take her. What if this was supposed to be an interchange? All she could do now was speculate.

Once she closed the entrance door, she took a deep breath of the cold air. The sky was dark, and this part of the world rested again. She walked from the school and headed to the main gate.

Y/N thought about leaving for New York. It was a gigantic city with maximum opportunities. She could find a job, start a new life and forget about everything that happened in the past. There was a slight chance she could find love, be happy and build a family. It was not something she dreamt of, but now, it was something she could focus on. One step at a time.

She was almost at the gate. Her new life was only seconds away. However, she found Logan leaning against the metal gate. She sighed, annoyed.

“Took you long enough,” Logan commented. He had a cigar in his hand, smoking it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest.

“You think I’d let you leave?” he raised a brow and took a drag. “Ain’t happening, kid.”

“You do realise I’m not a kid,” she frowned at him.

“You are acting like one,” he said back. “Instead of talking, you are running away. Have you ever tried facing the problems?” When she didn’t give him any snarky comeback, he chuckled. Logan opened the gate. “Come on, let’s have a walk.”

Y/N tilted her head, confused. “Why are you still talking to me, Logan? After everything that I’ve done and you’ve learnt. You should be glad I’m running away.”

“You are a stubborn woman, you know that?” he laughed.

“I’ve been told before,” she winked at him and walked through the gate with him close behind.

They walked through the driveway in the middle of the night. They couldn’t see much. The moon was in its Third Quarter and hidden behind the trees. The surroundings were peaceful. Some would say it was weirdly romantic.

“Scott is an ass,” Logan said after a while. “Can’t believe he’d do that. I thought many things about him, but this is just another level of being insecure and jealous.”

She laughed. “I hate Scott,” she stated. “Sorry, but what he did is inexcusable. He told you all something he knows nothing about.”

“Listen,” Logan stopped and patted her shoulder. “Would you tell us in the future?”

Her hand found his hand on her shoulder. “In time, I would. I’d need to be sure I can trust you. I’d want you to know who I was and what I did.”

Without thinking, Logan pushed her closer to his body and gave her a side hug. “You can trust us. Or at least trust me. I’ve been through shit. I’ll understand ya.”

When Logan pulled away, Y/N was glad he couldn’t see her flaming hot face. They continued walking down the road.

“Have you killed a child?” she asked boldly.

“No. That I didn’t.”

She clapped her hand once. “There you go. Don’t get me wrong, I would never hurt a child. I would never hurt my own sister. Until I did.”

“I know.” And then came the dreaded sentence. “Tell me what happened, Y/N.”

She took a deep breath. As much as she hated digging into her past, she wanted to tell at least someone what happened that day. It appeared before her eyes like a movie. This time, she didn’t run from it. She faced it like her greatest fear.

“It was the day my ability appeared,” she started slowly. “It was Saturday afternoon when it happened. I remember I was on edge since morning. I couldn’t explain it then. I was moody and irritated by everything. I got grounded for my behaviour and had to watch my sister in the afternoon.

“Jill wasn’t even six. She was a spoiled child. Jill wanted all the dolls. She wanted my CD player and music. That day, she was extremely annoying. I remember her jumping on my bed, screaming something. I wanted to finish an essay for school. Jill wanted to be a brat and get on my nerves.

“I started to scream at her. Words flowing out of my mouth. She fought back, and then it happened. The forcefield flew out of my body. It damaged my whole room, ruined a wall, and my sister was nowhere to be found.”

Y/N was there again. When she opened her eyes, she found the room in ruins. A wall was missing, dust flew in the air, and everything was a mess. Her body was shaking. She was in shock. What the hell happened? She took a few steps forward. She went closer to a wall that was now missing. People from her neighbourhood were staring at the scene, gasping and pointing fingers. Her eyes fell down on the front yard, where she found her sister lying without any trace of life.

“All rescue teams came to our house. News stations filled our street. Everyone wanted to see what happened,” she recalled. “Because my bedroom was above the kitchen, people believed it was a gas explosion. However, my parents immediately knew who was at fault.”

They walked to the crossing. No cars were passing by.

“My parents threw me into an asylum where I stayed for a few years until I escaped that place,” she added. “I can still hear my parents screaming at me. Their voices are a reminder of what I did.”

Logan grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. Our mutations awaken when we are kids or teens, and we are in emotional distress,” he explained to her.

“Back then, I didn’t know it,” she said. “One remains the same: I killed my sister. It was unintentional. I would never hurt a five-year-old. I would never hurt a child,” her voice shook.

“I know. I believe you,” Logan affirmed her. His hand never left hers. “That’s why you needed to save JJ, right?”

She quickly nodded. “Yeah. To even convince myself that I don’t kill kids for fun.”

They looked at the main road. This was a crucial moment for Y/N. It was up to her to decide whether she wanted to stay or leave forever.

“I want you to know that you have a friend in me, Y/N,” he said after a while. “And there are more of us who did some bad shit.”

“I know,” she whispered. Y/N was conflicted. She couldn’t decide what to do. Now she wished to see Logan’s face, to know how he was looking at her.

His presence was magnetic and radiant. Y/N had noticed it while they were driving to Salem. He made her feel something new, unknown. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

“Is this a goodbye?” Logan asked. “Or can I drag your ass back into the mansion?”

She laughed. Yes, at least she had a friend in him. That’s when she realised Logan was still holding her hand. “Will you continue to train me?”

“Imma kick your ass tomorrow,” he pulled her hand, and she collided with his hard body. He patted her head as if she was a dog. Together, they started to walk back to school.

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