#honest to god I would rather him never get a name. it would be so funny

[ladyloveandjustice]

And finally, the second and final part of this fic has arrived. It's long. So much longer than I thought it would be. God I got so carried away with the conversations and it took forever. Turned into a monster. But it's finally done. Again, not as funny as I'd like, but hopefully a little cute.

Thank you to @schrodingersauthorii for saying something in the comments to my post that inspired some of this second part!

Part 2

The atmosphere of the meet was a lot nicer than he expected. The other students were kind to him, many complementing them on his sports day performance. The team members and Coach Sakuragi were less, well, mean to each other than the team he’d briefly been part of, cheering each on rather than acting sullen when anyone outperformed them. The coach at his old school had always responded to any mistake with a torrent of frustrated criticism that made Natsume tremble in shame. But Sakuragi never acted disappointed or angry. She came off like she was giving friendly suggestions, and she pointed out what they were doing well at lot too. The team responded to her advice eagerly, rather than fearing her.

It was nice, and Natsume almost wished he was the kind of person who could be a part of this. But he knew himself too well. He’d feel terrible each time he missed out due to being sick or waylaid by yokai. And that would happen a lot. The nicer these people were, the worse he’d feel about letting them down. It didn’t matter if they were fine with it, he wouldn’t be. And to be honest, even if he liked his teammates, he didn’t like thinking about huge crowds watching him, he didn’t like the idea of watching other people cry in frustration when he beat them, any of it.

So when Sakuragi asked him if he wanted to do a practice run with the others, he agreed, all while planning to run much slower than usual. He’d explain to her after that the performance on sports day was a fluke, and he usually wasn’t that fast, and there was no way he’d be able to pull it off consistently. Sakuragi would hopefully stop wanting him to join the team, and even if she still asked him, she and the others wouldn’t feel bad when he turned her down.

He took a deep breath, as he stood at the starting line, closing his eyes and blocking the gaze of Sakuragi and the other students out. If he didn’t imagine a yokai was chasing him, running slower was pretty manageable, and he was experienced enough with doing it in phys ed that he knew he could pull it off without looking like he was holding back. It would be fine. He’d be fine.

He got himself into position, taking off when Coach blasted the whistle. He lagged way behind the others, while doing his best to look like he was really giving his all. It was going pretty well, he thought, until he looped around on the track and saw a yokai directly in his path.

It wasn’t a big one, not even coming up to Natsume’s knee. It was black, so it had blended in well with the track. It was sort of blobby and shapeless in form, like an inkstain, with beady eyes and a wiggly head.

Natsume’s heart raced and his mouth went dry. It might look small, but he knew better than anyone not to trust a yokai’s appearance. It could be dangerous. Was it here to get the Book of Friends, or was it trying to do something to the people here? It didn’t matter. He had to do something. He couldn’t just slow down, that would give it time to attack

Instead, he vaulted over the creature. His ankle twisted under him when he landed. He fell, knees and hands scraping the ground. He immediately sprang to his feet and ran as fast he could. He had to lead it away from everyone else.

His sneakers pounded on the rubber and intense vibrations raced through him with each step. It felt like his bones were shuddering. Somone was calling his name, but it was muffled and distant, everything was. He has no room in his brain for anything but his goal. I have to protect the people here. I have to protect the Book of Friends. He crossed the finish line and veered into the grass, ready to grab his bag and sprint out of school grounds. But he looked over his shoulder, he saw the blobby yokai hadn’t moved after him at all. It had simply flattened and spread out on the ground. It’s eyes were closed.

Was it…taking a nap?

Relief filled Natsume as he skidded to a stop. Yes, it was sleeping. Its breathing was even, and as sounds came back to him, he could hear some faint snoring. But he also heard something else, which was Coach Sakuragi screaming at him.

“NATSUME! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? WHY WOULD YOU RUN ON A SPRAINED ANKLE?” She shouted while running toward him.

Sprained…? Natsume looked down and saw his ankle was swelling. Suddenly, intense pain shot through his leg, his ankle folded under him, and crumpled. Sakuragi caught him under his arms before he could hit the ground. She lifted him up easily.

 Wow, she’s strong, Natsume thought dazedly. Bet I look pretty pathetic right now. He could see students had gathered around to stare at him, expressions worried or shocked. One girl called “Are you okay??”

“Y-yeah,” he said as his mind screamed in humiliation.

Sakuragi could have probably carried him, but thankfully she chose to simply pull his arm over shoulder. “Don’t stand on that ankle, keep it raised.” She commanded. She turned to the cluster of team members. “We need the chairs, the ice bag from the cooler, and the first aid kit. Go get them.”

The student’s responded quickly, three of them running off.

Soon they all came back with all the supplies, including two folding chairs. Sakuragi eased him into a chair. Natsume couldn’t help groaning in pain when a student propped up his leg on the chair in front of him, resting his ankle on a folded towel.

Natsume hated that he was disrupting the entire track meet and making so many people fuss over him, but he knew protesting would be ungrateful, so he softly thanked the other students instead. They smiled back at him.

Sakuragi placed the ice bag on his ankle. Natsume sighed in relief as the numbing cold broke through the pain.

 Sakuragi bent down to examine his foot. “It don’t think it’s broken, but you’re going to need to check it with a hospital. It’s badly sprained because of all the weight you put on it. Hopefully you didn’t tear the ligament completely.”

“A-a hospital?” Natsume’s stomach dropped. That was really going to worry Touko and Shigeru. He felt so stupid, putting them through all this because a harmless yokai was taking a nap.

Sakuragi straightened up and clapped her hands. “Okay, this isn’t a show, people. Give us some space and get back to practice.”

The team dispersed, and Sakuragi crossed her arms, frowning down at him. Natsume winced, thinking she was going to yell again. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Natsume.” she said calmly. “I don’t understand what you were thinking. This was just a practice run. Your first one, too.  I’ve seen students try to run on injuries before, but this wasn’t even an actual race!”

Natsume’s looked at his ankle, which was rapidly turning purple, burning with shame. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just want to know what’s going on. Why did you run on that ankle?”

“I-I didn’t do it on purpose. It was just kind of…instinct?” Natsume said. He instantly realized that how weird that sounded, and so, apparently, did Sakuragi.

“Instinct?” Her frown deepened and her eyebrows drew together. “Your instinct is to keep running even when you’re hurt?”

“No, no, it’s not like that, I’m just used to—!” He snapped his mouth shut.

What was wrong with him? He was usually better at covering things up. He’d almost said he was used to having to run while injured. He’d twisted his ankle running from yokai plenty of times, and at some point he’d learned to just block out the pain until he got to safety. But obviously he couldn’t tell the coach that.  He desperately searched for another way to end the sentence, but before he could, the coach bent over, looking him directly in the eye.

“Natsume, you looked very frightened when that “instinct” kicked in. Like you were being chased down. Are you used to being chased? Is it something that happens a lot?”

Natsume’s blood froze. Did she know? Why? How? What was going on? His ankle was throbbing so badly now, it was hard to think the haze of pain. His breathing got faster, his ears buzzed… He had to say something, anything to throw her off…

 Sakuragi put her hand gently on his shoulder, “Natsume, you can tell me anything. Is it someone who goes to this school? Or even more than one person? Have they been hurting you? I know it’s scary to talk about it, but I promise I can help--”

Natsume’s shoulders slumped as relief flooded him. She’d was asking if people were chasing him. Obviously she’d meant people.  What was wrong with him? Sure, his ankle felt like it was being hit repeatedly with a giant hammer, but that was no excuse to lose his head.

Doing his best to come off as relaxed, he said “Oh, It’s not like that, Sensei, you don’t need to worry. People don’t chase me at all anymore.”

Sakuragi narrowed her eyes. “Anymore?”

He clearly should just stop talking forever. Maybe he’d sprained his brain along with his ankle.

Yes, he’d been chased by people, of course he had. And not just enthusiastic track coaches. He’d had to run away from plenty of classmates looking to teach the liar a lesson. Running from bullies was usually a lot easier than running from most yokai though, since people eventually tired out. He’d only been caught a few times.

At least this slip up didn’t put his secret in danger, it just made every inch of him cringe. He didn’t want to talk about any of this with her. But he had to make her understand everything was okay. Even if it meant embarrassing himself.

“Sensei, ever since I moved here, things have been so much better. People are so kind to me, my friends are amazing, the Fujiwaras are so warm and giving…” He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. “I feel like I belong here. Actually belong.  I’m happier than I ever thought I could be….”

Sakuragi was listening to him intently, and when he trailed off, she smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that. Sorry for the interrogation.”

She took some bandages out of the first aid kit and started wrapping his ankle with a steady practiced hand. “It sounds running is really connected to some… difficult experiences for you. I’m a teacher who’s supposed to look out for you. I shouldn’t have pressured you to run. I should have considered your feelings. I apologize.”

“No no,, it’s not your fault Sensei, you’re honestly the nicest track coach I’ve ever—"

But his reassurance was cut off by a shout, “Natsume! What happened?!”

Natsume looked over his shoulder, and saw Nishimura, Tanuma, Taki, Kitamoto and Sasada all coming around the corner of school building

 What the heck are they doing here? His stomach dropped at the expressions of worry on their faces. Nishimura led the pack as they rushed toward him.

“How did you get hurt already?!” Nishimura exploded the second he was within talking range. “It’s been fifteen minutes since school let out! Fifteen! I bet you were doing some kind of crazy thing again, don’t you realize-?”

“Nishimura, calm down,” Kitamoto said, smacking him on the shoukder. “But seriously, Natsume, what happened?”

“I—"

“Did somebody trip you?” Sasada asked, fixing the scattered team members with a hawklike glare while they looked baffled in response.  “Are there bullies here?”

“No—”

“It’s not broken, is it?” Nishimura was wincing as the looked at the ankle. “It looks so swollen—”

“Guys!” Taki cut him off. “Why don’t we stop freaking out and let Natsume get a word in edgewise?”

“Well said. I know you’re worried, give him the chance to explain,” Sakuragi said in a slightly amused tone.

Nishimura, Sasada, and Kitamoro jolted, like they hadn’t noticed the teacher before.

“Sorry, Sensei,” Sasada said immediately, bowing her head,

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to yell at you, Natsume,” Nishimura mumbled.

Tanuma, who’d been quietly watching, stepped up and put his hand on Natsume’s shoulder. It was a timid, gentle touch, but Natsume could feel the weight of Tanuma’s concern through it. He smiled reassuringly at him, and then looked at the others.

“I just tripped, guys, that’s really all. I was doing a practice run and I stumbled and twisted my ankle. Though I uh, also…” He was going to freak them out if he told them he’d kept running on it, and he wasn’t sure how he’d explain it, but—

“He also bumped it a bit while I was guiding him to his chair,” Sakuragi cut him off, giving him a small smile. “That one was my fault.”

Natsume blinked at her, shocked she’d covered for him. She shook her head at him slightly as if to say ‘just this once’.

“See, Nishimura?” Kitamoto elbowed him. “You of all people can’t be mad at him for tripping!”

“Yeah…” Nishimura said sheepishly. “Sorry…”

“No, I’m really sorry for worrying you all,” Natsume said, guilt racing through him. “But, uh, what are you guys even doing here?

“We wanted to support you. The plan was just to meet you when you were done and walk home together,” Taki said gently.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before,” Tanuma squeezed Natsume’s shoulder slightly, looking bashful. “You just seemed kind of stressed about it, and I was a little… It was a last minute decision. I was thinking if you wanted to, we could even hang out at my place. I probably overstepped”.

‘It was one of those times his friend’s kindness and care filled him up so much he thought he would burst. Those times where he  wondered how he’d found people like them after all these years. When he ached to give them even a fragment of what they’re given him.

“No…” Natsume said, hoping he didn’t sound choked up, “No, I would have liked that, thanks.”

“That’s really sweet,” Sakuragi said with a grin, resuming with wrapping Natsume’s ankle. But then her grin dropped, and she looked at Nishimura questioningly. “Does he get hurt a lot?”

“Kind of. It’s all because he’s reckless, Sensei. He doesn’t think things through!”

“A lot of time he’s trying to help someone, though,” Tanuma said hastily. “It’s not his fault, really.”

 “You always go way too easy oh him, Tanuma. But yeah, he’ll do things like shove a girl out of the way when a bunch of heavy boxes are falling on her and get conked in the head. He’s too good a guy—"

“Come on, you’re embarrassing him,” Taki admonished, which immediately silenced Nishimura.

Sakuragi seemed to relax at this, and she finished up wrapping Natsume’s ankle. “Ok! Now, can one of you go fetch crutches from the nurse’s office?” Sakuragi took a key out of the first aid box and tossed at Nishimura, who caught it with a startled expression. Kitamoto went with him. Sasada looked around awkwardly, and then did a double take.

“Chiyo, what are you doing here?” Sasada’s hand immediately jumped to her hair, and she started twirling a lock around her finger.

The short-haired girl walked up, wiping her neck with a towel and flashing Sasada a crooked grin. “The track team lets me practice with them sometimes. Gotta train to beat you next time. What this I hear about you threatening everyone and calling them bullies?”

“I didn’t—”

“Oh, now I remember, Natsume, that’s your friend, no wonder you were all aggro!”  Chiyo waved at Natsume, who waved awkwardly back. “Sorry she’s so overprotective, man. She means well.”

“You—come on!” Sasada grabbed the other girl’s hand and dragged her away. Chiyo looked unreasonably happy about this.

Sakuragi had stepped away to chat with some other students too. Taki squatted next to Natsume and Tanuma leaned closer to him.

“Was there yokai trouble?” Tanuma whispered.

Natsume shook his head. “Not really. I basically overreacted. I saw a little yokai on the track, freaked out because I thought it was dangerous, and tripped. It’s harmless, though. It was just napping. I feel pretty stupid.”

“Did anyone notice anything?”

“Yeah, they noticed I was acting really weird. Especially Coach Sakuragi. She’s…intense.”

“Oh, I should have thought about that and warned you about that.” Taki sighed. “It’s really hard to keep a secret from her, especially if she thinks you’re struggling. Her heart’s in the right place, though.”

Natsume nodded. “I can tell. I feel bad that I worried her. I ended up saying some bizarre things while I was trying to throw her off. I think she thinks I’m traumatized from my childhood or something now.”

Tanuma cleared his throat and looked away. Taki studied her shoes carefully.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Natsume asked, trying to figure out if he’s said anything strange.

“Nothing,” Taki said quickly. “Hey, what does the little yokai look like?”  She looked off in the wrong direction.

 “Oh, uh…kind of blob-like…” he squinted at the sleeping yokai, examining it more closely. “Oh wow, I couldn’t pick it out before but it has ears actually, Oh, they’re kind of shaped like cat ears…”

Takis gasped excitedly “Is it cute?”

“Uh…maybe ugly cute?”

“Then it’s cute,” Taki said firmly. “I wish I could see it.”

Natsume suddenly realized that it was probably for the best Taki couldn’t see yokai, otherwise she’d be terrorizing every weird looking little monster non-stop.

Tanuma looked around at the team members looping the track, as others chatted and laughed on the sidelines. “Were you having a good time with everyone? You know, before everything happened?”

“Yeah…it was nice. Everyone was really great. I feel bad I ruined things.”

“You didn’t—"

“We’re back!” Kitamoto and Nishimura arrived carrying the crutches.

A shock of pain went up Natsume’s leg like lightningn when Tanuma and Sakuragi eased him onto his crutches, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. He couldn’t worry everyone even more.

“Okay, you’re good to go now. But make sure your parents to get you checked at the hospital right away. I will be asking Ms. Fujiwara about that our weekly grocery store chats.”

Natsume nodded meekly, filled with dread at the thought of Touko’s panic and distress. At the same time, he noticed she’d called the Fujiwaras his parents…not foster parents or guardians…just parents. It kind of felt nice. Really nice.

Sasada was still talking with Chiyo, laughing and swatting at her playfully. She noticed that Natsume was up, and reluctantly pulled away, giving Chiyo’s hand a quick squeeze before she left.

Sakuragi smiled as Sasada rejoined the group, observing all of Natsume’s friends clustered around him. “Take care of him, all right?”

“Don’t worry, Sensei, we won’t let anything happen to him,” Nishimura said confidently.

“We’ve got his back!” Kitamoto assured her.

“He helps us a lot. It’s the least we can do.” Tanuma chimed in unexpectedly.

“Of course!” Sasada and Taki finished things off.

Natsume stared at the ground, hoping nobody could see the expression on his face. Taki patted him on the shoulder.

“You’re right, you do have good friends.” Sakuragi ruffled Natsume’s hair. “Do you need me to get you a ride home? Or can your parents come get you?”

“Oh, it’s fine, I can just walk.”

“You’re seriously going to try to hobble all the way to the Fujiwaras?” Taki said severely.

“Okay, maybe to the bus stop…”

“That’s not coming for another hour,” Sasada tapped her watch. “You can’t wait that long.”

“The Fujiwaras don’t have a car, right?” Nishimura said. “My parents have a car, and Mom should be home. I’ll call her to pick us up.” He pulled out his battered cellphone, glaring at it. “If I can ever get service in this stupid town…can’t believe I begged for a phone and it’s useless…”

“Nishimura, no, I don’t want to drag your Mom into this…” Natsume said in a panic. “I really can just—”

“Natsume.” Tanuma said quietly but firmly, holding out his arm in front of him before he could hobble away. Natsume’s voice died in his throat.

“My Mom would be mad at me if I didn’t call her about this” Nishimura held his phone high in the air, face screwed up in concentration.

“Oh yeah, that’s right, you get your nosiness from her,” Kitamoto said lightly.

“Man, shut up. Aha! I got some bars!”  And just like that, Nishimura was on the phone with his Mom, and Natsume could do nothing to protest it.

Sakuragi laughed and started to turn away. “Great, I’ll see you—"

“Sensei, wait,” Natsume called quickly.

 She stopped, looking at him questioningly.

“I just wanted I wanted to say, I did have fun here. And, well, I don’t think I can join the team but…would it be all right if I came here once in a while? Just to practice, or I could help with whatever… unless that’s…

Sakuragi’s face split into a huge grin. “Of course, Natsume! Just having someone like you to race against is a huge help! But are you sure you--?”

Natsume nodded. “I want to.”

“Well then, do your best to heal up and we’ll look forward to seeing you.”

Nishimura got off the phone. “Mom said to out front.”

Waving goodbye to Sakuragi, Natsume’s friends flanked him as he slowly made his way around the school building.

“I’m happy for you, Natsume,” Taki said.

“Yeah, that’s cool!” Kitamoto agreed.

Thanks,” Natsume said. “I’m sorry I ruined the plans to get snacks and hang out…but maybe we could do it another time? Touko would probably be okay with you all coming over.”

“Of course!”

They all busied themselves planning  the get-together until they reached the bench out front, though Nishimura was oddly quiet.

After Natsume sat down, his friends gave their well wishes and reminded him to check in with them after the hospital, before dispersing to walk home. Taki caught up with Sasada and as they walked away, Natsume heard her say “So you and that Chiyo girl, huh? Do I detect some romance?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sasada said primly.

“Come on, it’s me. Come over to my place and tell me all about it.

“Fiiiine, if I must.”

Natsume laughed slightly. He looked over at Nishimura to see his reaction, but for once in his life, he didn’t seem interested in what Taki was doing. He was staring stonily into the distance.

“Nishimura, is something wrong--?”

“I’m sorry, Natsume,” he said abruptly, still not really looking at him.

“Huh? What are you sorry about?” He wondered if Nishimura was still feeling guilty about yelling earlier, and was prepared to reassure him, but—

“You’re hurt because of me.”

“What? What are you even talking about?” Natsume couldn’t help but laugh but stopped when Nishimura glared at him.

“It’s because of me. You don’tlike  running in front of people, I know that, but then you had to because I screwed up. And when you were talking to the coach, I could tell you were nervous, I could tell you didn’t want to go. And instead of returning the favor and helping you, I pushed you to do it anyway.” He put his head in his hands. “It was such shitty thing to do.”

“Nishimura, come on, you didn’t--

“I did. You were trying to say no, you can’t pretend you weren’t.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I just…got carried away because you were so cool when you won the race! And you’re kind of down on yourself sometimes,…so I thought maybe if you joined the track team, you’d see how amazing  what you can do is and people would see you’re…ugh, it was stupid.”

Natsume’s cheeks burned. “That’s.. it sounds like you were thinking of me, Nishimura, thank you—"

“No, don’t thank me!” Nishimura said fiercely. “I wasn’t considering your feelings at all, I just decided what I wanted for you without asking you.  I didn’t think things through. And God, I didn’t even think about injuries!”

Natsume stared at him in bafflement. “Why would you need to think about injuries? It’s not like I need special protection. I knew what I was getting into. People get hurt in sports all the time. It’s normal.”

“No, it’s different with you.” Nishimura slammed his hands down on knees, red blotches spreading on his face. “Because when you get hurt, you downplay it or try to hide it, and if you do that in track, it can mess you up for life!” Nishimura was talking faster and faster, the words just pouring out of his mouth “It’s dangerous because you act like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t matter, and you don’t get why we all care so much, and I know it’s because you’ve been through a lot and I don’t want to pry, but it makes me so---"

He stopped short, blanching. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say all that. U-uh, sorry, just forget it, It’s none of my business…”

A lump formed in Natsume’s throat as shame welled up, hot and bitter on his tongue. “No, I’m sorry, Nishimura,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t realize you were thinking all that, that you were worried. I never wanted to—”

“Natsume, no, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I know it’s not on purpose, I know it’s not your fault.” Nishimura pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is about me saying sorry, not you. I really am sorry. And I know you told Sakuragi you wanted to come back once in a while because you didn’t want to disappoint her, but you don’t have to go back there, I’ll talk to her—"

“You don’t have to talk to her.” Natsume swallowed his shame for now, determined to set things straight. “I liked the team. I really do want to come back.”

“You don’t have to pretend, I told you, don’t lie if you don’t have to—”

“Nishimura,” Natsume interjected gently, putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Nishimura finally looked over at him, eyes downcast. “It made me really happy. When we won, and everyone was cheering, and I saw how excited you were…I don’t know. Running is just something I do sometimes, and I don’t think it’s special or particularly like it. But being able to help you was the first time I felt like it was something…more.” More than survival. More than something I’m forced to do.

“Really…?” Nishimura hesitated, looking disbelieving.

“Really. And I really am glad I came here. I enjoyed it, you know, until I tripped. But even then, everyone was nice and helped me. It made me want to come back.”

Nishimura stared at him for a while, expression unreadable. Then he sighed and leaned back. “Okay, well, good.” Natsume could see Nishimura’s shoulders slump as the tension drained out of him. “But I still pushed you. You don’t have to make excuses for me. I’m just sorry I did it and I won’t do it again.”

“Okay, apology accepted.”

Nishimura looked startled, like he’d expected Natsume to keep fighting him on this, then his face broke into a grin. “Thanks, man.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for me either. I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you guys out when I get hurt. I’ll stop hiding it or trying to downplay it. I mean, I do want all of you to understand I…” Natsume knew better than to say he was “used to it” now, so he searched around for a less alarming but still honest way to phrase it. “I have a high pain tolerance, so sometimes it really doesn’t seem like a big deal.”

“Dude, that doesn’t make me feel better.” He could tell from how Nishimura looked at him he’d heard the “I’m used to it” even though Natsume hadn’t said it out loud.

“No, I know. Look, from now on, I’ll admit when something hurts.” He looked down at his ankle, wincing. “Like my ankle really hurts right now. I don’t want to go to the hospital but I’m kind of looking forward to getting painkillers.” He looked over at Nishimura. “Did that work? Or did it just sound whiney?”

“Nah, you need to whine a little more, man.” Nishimura punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m telling you, it feels good. When I sprained my ankle a couple years ago, I whined to everyone I knew. That whine was weak. Try harder.”

“It’s…uh, agony. I…might die? Was that good.”

“You need to work on your delivery, but it’s a start.”

They both laughed. Just laughing soothed something in Natsume, his stomach unknotted, and his racing heartbeat slowed. His ankle even hurt a little less.

When the laughter settled, Natsume looked down, twisting his fingers in his lap. “Look, I know I… kind of lie and hide things as reflex a lot. But I’ve been trying to be more open with the people I care about.”

Nishimura shrugged. “It’s fine. I mean, Kitamoto and I aren’t that stupid, we know there’s something going on with you, but you can take as much time as you need. I know you must have your reasons.”

“Thanks.”

Nishimura chuckled suddenly, looking past Natsume.

“Uh oh, here comes your cat. He looks mad! It’s almost like he knows something happened.”

Nyanko-sensei was indeed stomping towards them, his eyes narrowed.

“Agh, I’m really in trouble this time,” Natsume said. Nyanko-sensei jumped into his lap, making sure to throw his heavy weight around as he landed. “Oof.”

“Oh, your troubles have just begun. Don’t forget Touko!” Nishimura said cheerfully.

“Like I could.”

“I wouldn’t use the “I could die” line on her, she might believe you.”

“Amazing advice, thank you.”

Nishimura smirked. “I’d tell you to run, but, you know.”

Mmm…” Natsume said, stroking Nyanko-sensei, who was making faint, irritated noises. “That’s okay. There are some things I don’t want to run away from”.

---

And that's that! f i n a l l y. I'll add it to the running post, make a post with the complete thing, add it to ao3 etc later!

Running the Gauntlet: A Natsume Yuujinchou fanfic (Part 1)

Part 1 of my fanfic based on the idea I had in this post about Natsume's running abilities making his life at school difficult that blew up.

Includes a couple silly footnotes!

Running the Gauntlet

“I wish Natsume wasn’t our anchor,” a classmate complained.

Natsume flinched. It’s not like I wanted to be, he thought glumly. He pretended he hadn’t heard, hunching over and tying this shoe. So many students and teachers milling around on the grass, waiting for the big event, whoever it was probably hadn’t noticed he was nearby.

But then, Nishimura’s response made him feel even worse.

“Man, shut up. You haven’t really seen Natsume run. He’s friggin’ fast. We’re lucky to have him.”

Natsume appreciated Nishimura standing up for him, but inwardly he was screaming at him to please stop talking about this.

Then Kitamoto chimed in, “Yeah, one of the first times we saw him outside of school, he basically dashed out of the woods at warp speed. So don’t be rude.”

He saw Kitamoto glance quickly at him, clearly aware might be in earshot.

“Fast? Come on you two, I know he’s your friend, but the guy is sickly. You’re expecting me to believe someone who collapses every other day is a good runner? I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, I’m just not counting on him to win this”. The classmate, who rarely spoke to Natsume, adjusted his glasses.

“You’ll see,” Nishimura said smugly.

Natsume groaned inwardly, straightening up.

He eyed the various students hanging out in different colored headbands, the boy handing out water bottles from the tent, and some teachers talking off to the side.  There was even a chattering crowd on the small set of bleachers. A crowd that included parents.

But worst of all was the looping black track, sizzling in the sun before him. He, Nishimura, and the rest who’d been chosen for the relay race would be lining up on it soon.

He hated Sports Day.

To be fair, this was his least hated sports day so far. He’d never actually experienced sports day while having friends before. When he was a kid, he could expect being pushed to the ground and mocked, or having classmates complaining loudly to teachers about being paired up with the liar. Best case scenario was he’d merely have to feel lonely as he was left out of class celebrations, watching parents and friends cheer others on when there was no one to cheer for him.

But this year he’d been able to cheer wildly for Taki during the bean bag toss, laugh at Tanuma as he was forced to dance awkwardly with the rest of his class during their group performance, and smile as Tanuma got some sweet revenge by beating him at the scavenger hunt. He’d gotten to high five Kitamoto and Nishimura after every victory, and even Sasada once.

So many parents being here was still a little intimidating, though. He kept expecting one of them to yell at him to get away from their kid, even though he knew it wasn’t like that anymore. The Fujiwaras hadn’t been able to come, as they had a relative’s wedding to attend today. Natsume hadn’t even told them today was sports day, because he didn’t want them to feel bad about it. He was also kind of relieved they couldn’t come, because he would have been even more nervous if they were watching.

Overall, it had been a good day. He was basically enjoying himself.

But there was no getting over the dread of his biggest obstacle yet—the relay race. He was really going to have to pay attention to his running. It was such a tough balance…he didn’t want to let down the class, but he also needed to think of…

“Natsume, are you okay?” He blinked, noticing Sasada was suddenly next to him. “You were spacing out a bit.”

“I’m fine! Actually, are you okay?” She looked pale, and she kept fiddling with her glasses. It was strange to see her without the usual air of confidence.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. She’d been chosen for the relay race too, and was looking at the track with almost as much trepidation as he was.

“Sasada! Natsume!”  Nishimura ran forward before Natsume could reassure her. “It’s all up to us!”

“Yay,” Sasada said blandly.

“Whar’a wrong, Sasada?” Nishimura grinned smugly at her “Worried you’re gonna be the sports day cliché?”

“The…what?”

“You’ve seen it on TV, right? In anime and stuff? There’s always the one person who trips during the relay race. They scramble to their feet, tears in their eyes, and pass off their baton…” Nishimura imitated the gesture dramatically. “But don’t worry! You can trip all you want, I’m so fast it won’t matter! No need to be nervous!”

Sasada shook her head, putting her glasses back on. “You know what, your stupidity has calmed my nerves a bit, thank you,”

“Glad to be of service.”

---

Considering all that, Natsume wasn’t exactly surprised when Nishimura was the one who tripped.

Natsume winced when his friend went down, hoping he wasn’t hurt. It would be okay, right? Nishimura was so good-humored. This wasn’t a big deal or anything. He’d just laugh it off and…

Nishimura stumbled up, his knee bleeding, his face burning with shame. Natsume could see his eyes were brimming with tears. Of course he was devastated. Nishimura may act carefree, but he hated letting people down.

Natsume sighed.

Fine then.

“Nishimura!” He called out, offering his hand. “Don’t give up! I’ve got this!”

Nishimura’s face lit up instantly. He jogged as fast as he could and slammed the baton in Natsume’s hand. Natsume faced forward. The others had a massive head start, but that wasn’t enough to make him give up.

A yokai is chasing me, he told himself. A big one with sharp teeth.

And next thing he knew, he was crossing the finish line.

Cheers exploded around him as the other runners caught up, lagging after him. And then, suddenly, what seemed to be the entire class was rushing towards him. He had to resist the urge to put his hands up defensively.

Nishimura slammed into him from the side, embracing him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was whooping and laughing. Heat spread up Natsume’s neck and face. It was the first time Nishimura had ever hugged him. Or cried so openly in front of him. He knew it was considered fine for guys to cry and hug only when it involved sports for some reason, but it was still a surprise.  He wasn’t used to that kind of intimacy. Not that it was bad. It was kind of nice.

 The rest of his class gathered around him, yelling things like “way to go” and “that was amazing!” Even Sasada, her face still red and sweaty from her run, was screaming her head off and jumping up and down. Kitamoto clapped Natsume on the back and soon several classmates followed suit. Natsume was sure a red handprint was permanently etched on his back now.

“Dude, I knew you were fast, but I didn’t know you were that fast!!” Nishimura yelled through his tears.

“Seriously, do you have a secret running regimen I don’t know about, or is it just natural talent?” Kitamoto said.

Natsume heard some more cheering explode behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see an uncharacteristically excited Tanuma waving at him from the other side of the track, “Congrats, Natsume!”

“Tanuma, you could at least… pretend to care… that our class lost,” said the boy Natsume had gone up against, still doubled over and panting.

“Sorry.”

There was loud whistle from the stands and Natsume saw it came from Taki. The girl next to her had covered her ears. Taki didn’t notice, and let out another impressively strong blast, waving at him. She removed her knuckles from her mouth and shouted “Woo, Natsume!”

Natsume was torn between being happy his friends supported him and so embarrassed he could die.

“I owe you an apology, Natsume,” said the boy with the glasses, whoever he was.

“Hell yeah you do!” Nishimura responded.

“Nishimura…” Kitamoto’s said scoldingly, his eyes flicking to Sasada.

“Ah…I’m sorry too, Sasada,” Nishimura said sincerely. “You really showed me.” (Sasada had been fast enough to give Nishimura a head start, as Natsume suspected she would be, she’d certainly caught up to him out of nowhere plenty of times in the early days of their relationship).

Sasada wasn’t listening, she was looking at a fit girl with short black hair from another class, who was also still panting from the race. “How about that, Chiyo!” she called over to her.

“You win this one, but I’ll get you next time, Jun! Just you wait!” Chiyo called with a matching huge grin and an excited look in her eyes. For some reason Sasada blushed delicately in response*.

“Okay, okay, give him some room to breathe,” Kitamoto said, shooing at the others. They all stepped back, though Nishimura remained by Natsume’s side. Natsume was grateful for Kitamoto, he was dizzy and overwhelmed. He’d had no idea races like this were such a big deal to people. He was more grateful than ever the Fujiwaras weren’t here to add on to all this.

“Look Natsume!” Sasada had finally torn her eyes away from the other girl and was pointing at the stands. “Even the track coach looks impressed!”

“No wonder, you’re faster than half her team,” Kitamoto said. “Bet she tries to recruit you!”

Natsume’s stomach dropped like a stone. Indeed, the track coach, a woman with short brown hair and sharp eyes, was looking at him with interest. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. His personal hell had returned. Had winning a measly race been worth it?

Natsume looked over at Nishimura, who was still jumping up and down and hollering about how he was going to treat Kitamoto, Sasada and Natsume to some manju, not even minding when Kitamoto snarked at him about it how it must be a cold day in hell if the man who sponged off everyone was paying the tab for once. He flashed Natsume another ecstatic grin, and Natsume smiled back.

Yeah, it had been worth it.

--

Natsume had experienced a lot of reoccurring horrors, but the most annoying of them was being hounded by track coaches at every school he went to.

Apparently, spending most of his life running from yokai had made him faster than the average person. He’d been unaware of this until his first year of middle school. When it came time to run the track, Natsume had heard whispers around him, a couple of the kids placing bets on when he’d collapse. One boy had even smacked him on the shoulder and screamed “The liar’s gonna come in dead last!” in his ear.

Natsume hadn’t really done much racing against other kids on the playground, and he’d been sick during a lot of gym classes, so he’d also figured he’d struggle against the other kids. It had completely shocked everyone, himself included, when he blew past them all with ease. He’d reached the finish line only to find the other kids several feet behind him, panting and gawking.

The gym teacher’s eyes had gone wide, and he’d immediately started urging Natsume to join the track club. The man had even gone to Natsume’s current guardians about it.

His guardians had resented that he was getting attention while their real kid was an overlooked benchwarmer on the baseball team. They’d thrown lots of snide comments Natsume’s way. And…well, he hadn’t had a good time on the track team at all. When he’d inevitably had to move again after those same guardians got tired of him, leaving the track club behind had been the silver lining.

Upon transferring to a new school, he’d decided to keep his speed under wraps. But then a coach noticed him running when he was late for class one day and his troubles started all over again. At first he’d avoided the coach by coming up with excuses about responsibilities or detention or headaches, but eventually he was just reduced to hiding under the bleachers when he saw the man.

At another school, a coach tried to recruit him for her team SO aggressively he’d made the stupid mistake of running away when he saw her—and naturally, seeing how fast he could book it had just increased her interest.

So, when he was gathering up all the extra water bottles from the hydration station tent at end of the day, and saw the track coach approach him, his heart started pounding, He fought back his urge to bolt, even a flashbacks filled his brain.

“Natsume, right? I’m Sakuragi, if you don’t remember,” The woman had a wide, genuine smile. He’d only spoken to her a few times, but he was pretty sure she was Taki’s homeroom teacher. “You showed some impressive hustle today! Have you ever thought of joining the track team?”

Fortunately, Natsume had his excuses pre-prepared. “Oh wow, that’s such an honor, Sensei!” He said, continuing to gather up the water bottles while still maintaining polite eye contact. “But, you see, I get sick very easily, so joining a team is a bad idea. I’d just end up being absent a lot, and I’d let the team down.”

“That’s not a problem.” To his horror, the teacher bent down and started picking up the water bottles herself.

“You don’t have to trouble yourself—” He began quickly, but she cut him off, saying “ I’d never require you to come in when you’re not feeling well. You wouldn’t need to worry about calling out sick. We’re a fairly large team, so other students can easily sub in for you if you can’t make a race.”

What kind of laid back track team was this? Never mind, Natsume had a backup excuse. “Well, that’s great, but I’m also concerned about making trouble for my foster parents. It’s a lot to ask them, and I don’t want to put them out. I’d be around to help them less. They’d have to pay for expenses, like when overnight trips at the inn when we go to other towns, or shoes—”

“The school supplies the shoes and other essentials, and we can cover trip expenses if need be. Also, I chat with Ms. Fujiwara at the grocery store often, and she loves bragging about you. I can’t see her turning down a chance for you to develop your skills and enjoy some team spirit!”

Natsume looked down at his shoes, sure that he was tomato red right now. Touko bragged about him? What did he even do worth bragging about? “He only missed ten days of class this month”? “His grades were perfectly mediocre again”? “He hasn’t come home covered in dirt in a while”? “He made five whole friends in school, somehow?”*

Still, through his embarrassment, he felt a little warm inside. She was proud of him. It was a still a new feeling, and he wasn’t sure what to do with this strange, shy happiness.

“Natsume?” The coach’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Is there anything else bothering you, or would you like to come do a practice session with us? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to join. I’ll respect your decision.”

“I…” Natsume was searching for another excuse.  

 Nishimura jogged up. “Natsume, do you need any—" He noticed who Natsume was talking to and his eyes widened. “Oh, sorry to interrupt, Sensei! Natsume, are you being recruited? That’s so cool!”

“Ah, you were his teammate today, right?” Sakuragi smiled at Nishimura kindly.

Nishimura flushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Natsume really saved me out there. He’s a dependable guy! And he’s a great runner!”

Nishimura flashed a grin at Natsume, who was wishing he had telepathy so he could tell him to stop. He tried to send a signal by shaking his head slightly, but Nishimura wasn’t looking now.

“Well, that definitely sounds like track team material,” Sakuragi said jovially. She turned to Natsume. “Looks like your friends vouch for you. But it’s up to you, Natsume. Would you mind just stopping by?”

Natsume couldn’t bring himself to directly say no to a teacher in the first place, and now Nishimura and his enthusiasm had been added to the mix. “I’ll give it a try,” he mumbled, forcing a smile.

“Great! Just come to the track after school tomorrow. I think you’ll find it’s a lot more fun than you’re thinking.”

Natsume kept the smile fixed on as they carried the water bottles back into school. When the coach departed and they came ouside again, he and Nishimura met Taki and Tanuma. As always, Nishimura immediately started blushing and fidgeting , but as always, Taki failed to notice.

“I saw you with Sakuragi-sensei!” she said with a smile. “Impressing her is a big feat, Natsume! And don’t worry, she’s really nice.” She put her hand on Natsume’s shoulder, and Nishimura let out a strangled squeak. “She won’t get mad at you, whatever you decide.”

“Are you okay?” Tanuma said softly. Clearly both he and Taki had noticed he wasn’t actually happy right now.

“I’m fine,” Natsume said, letting the fake smile drop away and replacing it with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll just check it out. No big deal.”

---

“I don’t get why you’re whining so much about it,” Nyanko-sensei said, trotting beside Natsume as he walked to school the next day. “It’s just one measly meeting. What’s so bad about this running team thing anyway?”

“The people who took care of me when I joined the track team the first time were really bothered by it. They didn’t like having to drive me places, or the attention I got—”

“The Fujiwara’s aren’t like that, so that’s a stupid excuse.”

“That’s true, but it’s more than that,” Natsume sighed. “Last time, I was constantly late or absent. A yokai would attack me or I’d get sick...”

“Wimp.”

“Shut up, Sensei. Anyway, whenever that happened, the coach yelled at me for flaking out. I let everyone down.”

“But this woman said it doesn’t matter if you’re sick and can’t come, right?”

“She says that now, but she might change her mind,” Natsume mumbled.

“You’re so gloomy,” Nyanko-sensei shook his head. “It’s annoying.”

“Look, even if what she says is true, my teammates probably won’t like me. They didn’t last time. And I just…I just hated the feeling of all those people looking at me.”

He’d struggled a bit with just the sports day crowd watching him, but being on a real team was a million times worse. All those people judging, all their hopes riding on him not messing up… He shivered, remembering the way his skin had crawled, the way his breathing turned funny, the way his hands had shook. All those eyes on him…the weight of their gaze had made him want to curl up so small they couldn’t see him anymore.

“And there’s the actual reason. You’re bad with other people and you get stage fright. Boring.” Sensei yawned. “Just get over it. You have yokai trying to eat you all the time, why’s this scary?’

“I’d rather deal with yokai than the track team,” Natsume said emphatically.

Nyanko-sensei scoffed.

“A couple years ago there was this coach who was always chasing after me to recruit me. I was running from her, trying to get off school grounds so she couldn’t follow me, but then I saw that there was this huge yokai on the path out of school. Big fangs, sharp teeth, claws, all that.  I’d have to double back to avoid it, and the coach would catch me. So… I took the better option, and I ran past the yokai.”

“Idiot. Did it attack you?”

“I took a swing at me and knocked me out. But because of that the teacher was reprimanded for making the sickly kid collapse and they threatened to fire her if she ever chased a student again. She stopped trying to ask me after that. So it all worked out.”

“I don’t understand humans,” Sensei sighed. “Anyway, I’m in favor of the track team. If it helps you run faster, that means less of you getting snatched by yokai and less work for me.”

“Stop being lazy and trying to skip out on your bodyguard duties, Sensei. Yokai shouldn’t be chasing me down in the first place, it’s your job to take care of them.”

“I’ve got my own life to live! Stop being so selfish!”

“I’m the selfish one?”

They bickered all the way to the school gate, and though Natsume would never admit it to Nyanko-sensei, it did make him feel a lot better.

---

Part 1 complete! Part 2 to come. This is probably about halfway there, if not more.

Footnotes:

*Yes, Sasada has a sports and academic rival yuri storyline in the background. Yes I'm being self indulgent. It's what she deserves. It probably won't come up much more, I just thought it would be funny. Sasada's having this whole romantic epic while Natsume's worrying about track.

*Touko has been bragging about how kind and helpful you are, Natsume, you dummy. And about the garden he made and how it was good it was and other things Natsume does really well he hasn't noticed. She's also probably noticed he's fast and relatively strong for his size, he's always fetching and carrying stuff for her, but Coach thought she was exaggerating. UNTIL NOW.

[numberfiveisback]

y'know I haven't once seen any confirmation for The Crying Child's name... Is it actually Dave/David? I keep seeing people say that it is

[beggars-opera]

On the road leading into the center of Concord, Massachusetts, there sits a house.

It is a plain, colonial-style house, of which there are many along this road. It has sea green and buff paint, a historical plaque, and one of the most multi-layered stories I have ever encountered to showcase that history is continuous, complicated, and most importantly, fragmentary, unless you know where to look.

So, where to start? The plaque.

There's some usual information here: Benjamin Barron built the house in 1716, and years later it was a "witness house" to the start of the American Revolution. And then, something unusual: a note about an enslaved man named John Jack whose epitaph is "world famous."

Where is this epitaph? Right around the corner in the town center.

It reads:

God wills us free; man wills us slaves. I will as God wills; God’s will be done. Here lies the body of JOHN JACK a native of Africa who died March 1773 aged about 60 years Tho’ born in a land of slavery, He was born free. Tho’ he lived in a land of liberty, He lived a slave. Till by his honest, tho’ stolen labors, He acquired the source of slavery, Which gave him his freedom; Tho’ not long before Death, the grand tyrant Gave him his final emancipation, And set him on a footing with kings. Tho’ a slave to vice, He practised those virtues Without which kings are but slaves.

We don't know precisely when the man first known only as Jack was purchased by Benjamin Barron. We do know that he, along with an enslaved woman named Violet, were listed in Barron's estate upon his death in 1754. Assuming his gravestone is accurate, at that time Jack would have been about 40 and had apparently learned the shoemaking trade from his enslaver. With his "honest, though stolen labors" he was then able to earn enough money to eventually purchase his freedom from the remaining Barron family and change his name to John, keeping Jack as a last name rather than using his enslaver's.

John Jack died, poor but free, in 1773, just two years before the Revolutionary War started. Presumably as part of setting up his own estate, he became a client of local lawyer Daniel Bliss, brother-in-law to the minister, William Emerson. Bliss and Emerson were in a massive family feud that spilled into the rest of the town, as Bliss was notoriously loyal to the crown, eventually letting British soldiers stay in his home and giving them information about Patriot activities.

Daniel Bliss also had abolitionist leanings. And after hearing John's story, he was angry.

Here was a man who had been kidnapped from his home country, dragged across the ocean, and treated as an animal for decades. Countless others were being brutalized in the same way, in the same town that claimed to love liberty and freedom. Reverend Emerson railed against the British government from the pulpit, and he himself was an enslaver.

It wouldn't do. John Jack deserved so much more. So, when he died, Bliss personally paid for a large gravestone and wrote its epitaph to blast the town's hypocrisy from the top of Burial Hill. When the British soldiers trudged through the cemetery on April 19th, 1775, they were so struck that they wrote the words down and published them in the British newspapers, and that hypocrisy passed around Europe as well. And the stone is still there today.

You know whose stone doesn't survive in the burial ground?

Benjamin Barron's.

Or any of his family that I know of. Which is absolutely astonishing, because this story is about to get even more complicated.

Benjamin Barron was a middle-class shoemaker in a suburb that wouldn't become famous until decades after his death. He lived a simple life only made possible by chattel slavery, and he will never show up in a U.S. history textbook.

But he had a wife, and a family. His widow, Betty Barron, from whom John purchased his freedom, whose name does not appear on her home's plaque or anywhere else in town, does appear either by name or in passing in every single one of those textbooks.

Terrible colonial spelling of all names in their marriage record aside, you may have heard her maiden name before:

Betty Parris was born into a slaveholding family in 1683, in a time when it was fairly common for not only Black, but also Indigenous people to be enslaved. It was also a time of war, religious extremism, and severe paranoia in a pre-scientific frontier. And so it was that at the age of nine, Betty pointed a finger at the Arawak woman enslaved in her Salem home, named Titibe, and accused her of witchcraft.

Yes, that Betty Parris.

Her accusations may have started the Salem Witch trials, but unlike her peers, she did not stay in the action for long. As a minor, she was not allowed to testify at court, and as the minister's daughter, she was too high-profile to be allowed near the courtroom circus. Betty's parents sent her to live with relatives during the proceedings, at which point her "bewitchment" was cured, though we're still unsure if she had psychosomatic problems solved by being away from stress, if she stopped because the public stopped listening, or if she stopped because she no longer had adults prompting her.

Following the witch hysteria, the Parrises moved several times as her infamous father struggled to hold down a job and deal with his family's reputation. Eventually they landed in Concord, where Betty met Benjamin and married him at the age of 26, presumably having had no more encounters with Satan in the preceding seventeen years. She lived an undocumented life and died, obscure and forgotten, in 1760, just five years before the Stamp Act crisis plunged America into a revolution, a living bridge between the old world and the new.

I often wonder how much Betty's story followed her throughout her life. People must have talked. Did they whisper in the town square, "Do you know what she did when she was a girl?" Did John Jack hear the stories of how she had previously treated the enslaved people in her life? Did that hasten his desperation to get out? And what of Daniel Bliss; did he know this history as well, seeing the double indignity of it all? Did he stop and think about how much in the world had changed in less than a century since his neighbor was born?

We'll never know.

All that's left is a gravestone, and a house with an insufficient plaque.

[azrielbrainrot]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: A seemingly innocent confession ends with you in Azriel's bed.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, some dirty talk

Word Count: 1,2k

Notes: I've been having a bit of writer's block and decided to just finish this little prompt I had in my notes since forever ago. Hope you enjoy!

It's hard to remember how you ended up here. It's hard to remember your own name to be honest. You think it would even be possible for you to forget how to breathe when Azriel's fingers have set such a mind numbing rhythm, stretching you out so deliciously.

One minute you were confessing to your friend about how no male had ever made you finish, and the next you were lying naked on his soft mattress, his hazel eyes half lidded with desire as he cooed down at the mess you were making and all the sinful noises you were letting out.

“Are you still with me, pretty?”

You let out a loud moan at the question, one he punctuated with a deeper, sharper thrust. Hands clutching onto his soft hair to pull him in closer, his lips meeting yours, allowing you to indulge yourself for a moment. You can't believe you've lived this long without the feeling of his lips on yours.

Azriel pulls away far too soon, your lips chasing his in a hopeless attempt of keeping him close, a whine escaping you when he moves completely out of your reach.

“I asked you a question,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he watches the way your pussy swallows his fingers greedily.

It takes you a moment to remember that he even spoke up let alone what he asked you. “Yes. Gods, yes. Please don't stop,” you find yourself begging when you do.

Azriel lets out a satisfied hum, leaning down to leave little bites and wet kisses all over your chest, almost purring when your fingers tangle in his hair, fingers alternating between massaging his scalp and pulling hard when the pleasure he's bringing you gets too much.

It doesn't take long for you to get impatient, drunk on the sensations he's bringing you, but still greedily needing more, your hips chasing his fingers, silently begging him to go faster, harder.

“Az,” you whimper when it's clear he won't listen unless you ask him to. “I need more.”

He abandons your chest with one last bite, looking up at your heavy lidded eyes, a smirk growing on his face.

“You think you're ready to cum?”

“Please.”

It's amazing how fast he reduced you to begging. You can't believe this whole thing started because you thought there was something wrong with you, or that you just couldn't cum with a partner when Azriel had reduced you to a pool of pleasure in a couple thrusts of his fingers. He hadn't even fully undressed you, simply pulling your dress up to your hips and then down your chest to keep his mouth busy. You can only imagine what else he could do if you gave him the chance.

“You don't have to beg. I told you I'd take care of you,” he says, looking down to your dripping pussy as he speeds up his thrusts, curling his fingers just right.

You were so, so close. It felt like you were staring down at the top of a precipice, only needing the slightest nudge to jump down into oblivion.

“You've been doing so good for me. Making such a pretty mess of my fingers.” He trusts his fingers in sloppily, showcasing just how much of a mess you're making, the sinful sounds echoing around the room along with your pathetic pants and whimpers. “Can you hear it?” You think you could be heard down the hall.

Azriel was never particularly talkative, even as you grew closer, he always prefered to listen rather than speak. You really could have never imagined him to have such a dirty mouth. It never occurred to you how attractive his voice was either, probably overshadowed by everything else, but now you think you could listen to him talk forever.

“You're so wet I think I could just slip right in,” he adds more to himself than to you, but it has a destructive effect all the same. A needy whimper escapes you, your cunt instinctively clenching around his fingers at the thought.

Of course, this doesn't go unnoticed by him, making him look up with a curious and feral glint to his eyes, “You'd like that?”

The reality of the situation sobers you up for a moment, realizing that this would have a noticeable shift to your friendship, one you cherished, but as his fingers threaten to slow down their pace, likely noticing the seriousness that you felt, you grab onto him.

“Yes, I would,” you confess, looking deep into his eyes.

He picks up his pace again, those burning hazel eyes never straying from yours. “I can fuck you. I can show you every little thing those bastards never did, bring you pleasure you never thought possible,” he says, “but first you need to cum for me, alright?”

Dropping a quick kiss to your lips, Azriel moves down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses as he goes, his fingers never stopping or giving you a moment to breathe properly. He stops for a moment, lingering around the waistband of your panties, sucking a mark right above where you needed to feel him so desperately.

You're not sure if he's waiting for permission, but your hand falls to his head when it's clear he won't move on his own, giving him a more than encouraging nudge. He complies with a chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine, his warm breath ghosting over your wet flesh.

When his mouth closes around your clit, you feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure rush over you, lasting only a couple slow circles of his tongue around the sensitive spot before you cum, head falling back against the mattress, back arching into him as your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a silent moan of his name.

Your fingers tighten around his hair though you're unsure if you were pulling him closer or trying to push him away in the middle of the mind numbing sensations. The resulting groan he releases sends vibrations over you, only adding to the already destructive orgasm you were experiencing.

It takes you a bit to come down, and when you do you find Azriel looking down at your face, pride distinguishable in his eyes, his fingers still working inside you softly, fucking you all through your orgasm.

He smiles at you when he catches you watching him through heavy lidded eyes, “So,” he stops his movements, bringing his face, still covered in your release, closer to you. “Do you still think there's something wrong with you?”

The idea is laughable to even consider now, and you can't help the disbelieving chuckle that escapes, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a kiss.

“No, I think I just have terrible taste,” your murmur, caressing his cheek with the pad of your thumb, “Thank you for this, Azriel.”

“You don't have to thank me, love. I was more than happy to help,” he pecks your lips, a suggestive smile taking over his features, “And I still am, whenever you need me to.”

“Actually,” a grin of your own growing, your legs wrapping around his waist, almost moaning out when you felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against your sensitive heat, feeling insatiable even though he just gave you the strongest orgasm you've ever felt, “I think you just said you had a lot more to show me, right?”

[back2bluesidex]

We Need Practice - JJK (18+)

A Sequel to Novice.

Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: Fluff, smut

Wordcount: 2.1k+

Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

Masterlist | Patreon

“Don’t judge a book by its cover” 

You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life. 

But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be. 

Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like. 

With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it. 

And that is exactly what he does. 

Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious. 

But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story. 

After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place). 

If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him. 

Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen. 

It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient. 

As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again. 

So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now. 

“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do. 

The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?” 

“Me too. Can’t sleep.” 

You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?” 

Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.” 

Wait. is he? Taking you out? 

Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest. 

So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place. 

Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 

The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 

Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 

Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 

Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 

His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 

“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 

“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 

“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 

You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 

Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 

“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 

The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 

Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 

The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 

He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything. 

5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake. 

It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches. 

Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side. 

You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it. 

Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.” 

When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?” 

“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.” 

His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.” 

Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?” 

“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes. 

“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words. 

Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.” 

Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?” 

“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips. 

Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I think I would love it too.” 

And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this. 

He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth. 

His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer. 

And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two. 

He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.” 

“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands. 

It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today. 

You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible. 

“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance. 

Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.  

“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly. 

“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit. 

“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now. 

“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence. 

“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him. 

His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet. 

Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck. 

Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little. 

“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again. 

One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest. 

Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat. 

“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again. 

“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors. 

“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you. 

You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done. 

“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly. 

Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.  

“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit. 

“What? I-I don’t..” 

“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off. 

He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock. 

“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length. 

At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast. 

“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is. 

You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless. 

Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day. 

You really are a novice. 

Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly. 

As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself. 

Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself. 

With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed. 

And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic. 

“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself. 

“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again. 

You certainly need more practice with him. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[kisses4kaia]

patrick likes his girls mean!! he loves the stuck up, entitled, princesses who demand their every need be catered to. so when he meets you, all designer rackets and chanel sponsorships, he’s gotta bite.

you’d heard of patrick, of course. whom of your peers hadn’t? the effervescent tennis prodigy with a blinding career practically inscribed in his fates.

you couldn’t lie, learning about his reputation as not only a tennis god, but as a sex one, too… you had to bite.

hell if you were going to make the first move, though. that was quite literally never happening, and so you bided your time.

luckily for you, patrick was rather impatient—much differently to yourself—and would never miss the opportunity to make his way towards you at one of your dad’s events at your exorbitant, cherrywood-littered, home.

“that’s your third glass of champagne.” his voice startled from behind you. you swiveled on your heels to face the owner of such a bold tenor. “excuse me?”

patrick smiled to himself, nodding towards your glass. “tough night?” he’s suave, a large, single, step and he’s right next to you.

about to spit at him the meanest offended verbiage you could offer, your eyes found themselves catching onto his broad shoulders, and then practically raving all over his figure. his forearms, worked and muscled, were cut off from your view at the wrists, hands shoved deep into his pockets. there was a shock of dark, gelled, curls on his head, pairing dangerously fine with the honest and abyssal ultramarine of his eyes.

“you gonna keep checking me out or are you gonna answer my question?” he wore a stupid, smug smirk that had you scoffing. “sorry, do i know you?” you wished you could have looked down at him when saying this, but even with your heavy platform versace heels, you still had to crane your head to meet his eyes.

and of course, your question was redundant, but from the sounds of him thus far, he could do with a little ego death.

“patrick, zweig. i play tennis. and you do, too, don’t you?” he knew the answer to that question and he knew exactly who you were, because your father’s foundation that this very event was being held for, was titled in your name. “oh, that’s right. yeah, your parents were, i think.. third place at last year’s st. jude’s fundraiser?” his face twisted up in shame so satisfactorily, you had to physically bite back an evil giggle of victory. “well, patrick. it was really nice talking—“

“i’ve got something stronger than champagne in my car.” his tone was flat, practically monotonous, but his words had an implication of sheer fun, and who were you to skip out on that?

so, here you were, orange vodka bottle in your right hand as you jerked a whining patrick off with your left. “god, you’re so fucking pent up. what is it, tennis? or is it that no girl wants to fuck you, so you haven’t blown a decent load since back at school?”

ooh, he would tell it to you so straight, spit out evidence-backed statements of how easy it was to get a pretty girl on her knees for him whenever he wanted, he would. he would, if his mind wasn’t so fogged up with the pleasure, and the drinks, and mostly you. you you you.

“fuck—t’s so good, so good. please, i wanna cum, wanna cum,” he’d plead through the thick steam growing in the increasingly too-small cockpit of his car.

“how bad?” nipping at his ear, you were waiting to hear him beg, and he was waiting to swallow his mass of pride enough to get it out. “so bad, really fucking bad. i need it, need you, fuck. shit—please, need it so much,” he was so convincing, and it would’ve swayed a kinder soul, but then again, patrick likes his girls mean.

“no.” with your hand lost on his stupidly bricked length, patrick groaned, and bitched, and whined, and complained about how unfair you were being, and how he’d never do that to you, and blah blah blah. “well, i can’t say i care, so. maybe i’ll see you later. bye, patrick,” your fingers twinkled goodbye in a wave, and you were out of the vehicle and back inside the party without another word.

it wasn’t over then, of course not, and you knew it. thus, it came as no shocker when an unknown number randomly applepays you $1000 in the middle of the night, along with a text that reads as follows.

had a great time. hope we run into each other again sometime soon. and, don’t spend it all in once place, yeah? - 💸

[luffysprincess]

LIE DETECTOR TEST : BACHIRA MEGURU

⊹ summary : the blue lock boys are invited to take a lie detector test, but they’ve got to answer twitter’s unfiltered questions

⊹ pairing : bachira meguru x reader (established relationship)

⊹ wc : 640

⊹ warnings : fem!reader with she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as a “wife”, suggestive/nsfw. MINORS DNI

⊹ a/n : i recommend reading isagi’s version first for more context and a hugee thank you to @nymphsdomain for finding the link to a rb and to aali <3 (@tteokdoroki ) for reblogging this and isagi’s parts in the first place bc shes the reason these could even be found again!! 

⊹ isagi’s version I kunigami’s version

Isagi could only huff out as he tucked his phone back into his pockets. He should’ve expected this honestly, considering he’s known the man for years now.

It’s been quite some time since Bachira’s been hooked up to the machine. Only a few minutes were spent calibrating it with some straightforward questions, but since then, he’s gone into full, honest detail to every question Twitter had for him. And it had every person in the room looking at him with either pure shock and/or amusement.

“…and that’s when I had her squirting all over the back of the team’s bus”

Kunigami spit out his water, and Isagi’s eyes grew wider than ever before as they both turned to him.

“What?! When did this happen?!”

Bachira chuckled at their reaction, “Last match ♡”

“Milo?”

“No lies so far,” Milo laughed.

“Wait…don’t Rin and Barou always sit in the back…“

“Yup” Bachira answered proudly.

“Oh my god. They’re gonna kill you when they watch this.”

“That’s if they watch it. Which they won’t.”

“Alright next question! Twitter user @/bachirasbitch asks What’s your wildest sexual fantasy and why does it include me?”

Kunigami whistles, “Your fans are just as shameless as you”.

“They’re right though. It does include them. And the rest of my fans too.” Bachira chuckles at the looks he’s getting from his teammates before continuing, “I’ve always wanted an audience for what me and Y/N do behind closed doors. I think it’d be pretty exciting knowing someone’s watching me pleasure my wife.”

“You should make an only fans account then,” the interviewer suggests. “Your fans would probably love that.”

“Now who says I don’t already have one,” he winks back.

“Well do you?”

“I don’t have to answer that. I’m here to answer Twitter, not you” he grins.

“Fair enough,” the man sighs. “Let’s see, we’ve got time for one more question for you. @/bluelickmyclit asks What’s the most awkward thing that’s ever happened between you and one of your teammates?”

“Ooh I like this question.”

“I don’t” chimed Isagi.

“So before my wife and I moved into our apartment, we used to be next door neighbors with Yoichi. The way the floor plan was had us sharing a wall between our bedrooms. I know, silly design. Now this happened quite some time ago; before I got married, and back when this guy—” he points his thumb over to Isagi who’s hiding his face in his hands “—was single. I don’t know if I’d call this the most awkward incident but it was pretty awkward, ‘cause there wasn’t a single night we went to sleep without hearing him moan out Y/N’s name. And I mean every night—“

“Ok!” Isagi interrupted, cheeks and ears tinted pink. “I think they get it”

“I don’t know why it took him so long to realize the walls were paper thin. Y/N and I aren’t exactly the quietest people out there. He had to have heard us every night too— ow” Isagi cut him off with a punch to the arm, sick of his teasing which only furthered Bachira’s amusement.

“I hope you know Y/N found it very flattering”

“Shut up and take the cuffs off.”

“She thinks it was cute”

“Kunigami, hurry up and connect to the machine.”

“I’m rather enjoying this, actually. How often was this happening again?”

“Every night” Bachira and Kunigami continue to tease Isagi, laughing at him as he attempts to unhook one teammate and attach the sensors to the other instead.

Bachira had never had so much fun in an interview before. He couldn’t wait to go home and tell you all about it and then watch it with you when it aired. But for now, he’d enjoy messing with his friends like this. And now that Kunigami was up next, he was looking forward to it even more.

[sweet1delusi0ns]

What they call you in bed ──☆*:・ﾟ

Fem!dom!reader + suggestive/smut obviously

This is for all y’all fellow doms out there😋

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

He’s vocal so honestly he will call you anything you want or find attractive~

He mostly calls you ma’am though, ever since he started calling you ma’am during argument he found it very hot to call you ma’am while you dom him~

Other that that it’s mostly just your name!

He loves being ‘punished’ for being bad just so he can say things like “yes ma’am~ I’ll never d-do it again AhH~” “what are you gunna do to me ma’am?~” “no ma’am I would never disobey you~” (he would)

Sasuke🗡️-*

He’s timid but kinky when it comes to you, calls you authority like names like miss or ma’am, and sometimes just your name with a whimpering tone~

“Miss…please…I need y-you” or “y/n, can you please help m-me…” is mainly how it started. He likes your authority even though you barely use it, He’s a good listener so there is no need to use your authority

Itachi🥀-*

He wants to act like all he wants to call you is just your name, but in the moment he sometimes lets a little ‘mistress…’ out

“M-mis…y/n… don’t stop please..” “what were you going to say?~” “M…mistress…” “Mmm oh I like that~”

Other then that he’s relatively quiet other than moans n cries (cutiee)

Kakashi🍃-*

Doesn’t admit it but he loves the idea of you ‘owning’ him during private moments

Naturally he calls you master sometimes but also calls you mistress as well. Sometime puts on a necklace of some sort just so you could pull on it and call him a good boy~

“I’ve been a good boy master I promisee~” “mistressssss pleaseeee i cant wait any longerrrr!” He’s not shy necessarily, he’s more shameless than confident mostly, so he isn’t scared to get your attention by calling you names only reserved for the bedroom~

Kiba🐺-*

Also calls you mistress, he does it to tease since he is VERY confident (borderline bratty honest) and he just likes the name, but also calls your name as well

“Don’t be a brat with me Kiba I’m in no mood!” “Ooo is mistress gunna get rough if I don’t listen? Ohh no!!” He openly likes it when your rough we all know. Also such a tease sometimes he just gets on his knees in front if you And start biting your thighs and when you tell him to stop he really goes “oh but y/n~ I’m not doing anything wrong though~” then continues to nibble at you until you lose it

Shikamaru🀄️-*

Mama’s he 100% calls you mama’s. Mommy isn’t his thing mama’s is more laid back he feels. So when you start pulling his hair or overstimulating him he always praises about how hot you are

“Oh god~ your so sexy mama’s~! M-more~” or “your so hot when your pinning me down mama’s~” he finds you so attractive when you dom him so he’s gotta make it known. He’s such a sweet talker😋

Shino🪲-*

He isn’t the best with names so the main pet name he calls you is also what he calls you in bed, which if flower obviously! But just because he isn’t good with names doesn’t mean his vanilla. One of his favorite things is overstimulation but that’s for another time

“I-it’s too m-much flower p-please…” or “don’t stop!!! Please flower dont stop Ahh~”

Neji🎋-*

He doesn’t like you being rough, he’s rather you be gentle and sweet, so he calls you sweetheart! Of topic but I feel like he doesn’t cuss during sex idk why but it’s cute!

“Sweetheart ngh…please c-can you go a little harder…” even though he likes it soft he sometimes wants it a litter rougher “OH~~ Gosh~ NGHH S-SWEETHEART…”

Lee🥋-*

WORSHIPPERRRRR! He can worship you ALL DAYYY so obviously he calls you ‘beautiful goddess’ or just goddess. He’s a worshipper but is so energetic to the point he doesn’t know what to do

“My beautiful goddess can I PLEASEEEEE pleasure you!! I’ll be good this time I promise!!” “Y-your so beautiful NGHh~ g-goddess please~” he’s so hyper you literally have to tie him up just so he stays still long enough for you to do anything!

Choji🍥-*

He’s also a worshipper but different from Lee, Lee can worship all day long but Choji needs diversity, one second your ‘goddess’ the next your ‘master’ and even ‘mommy’ but rarely

Also he gets very drained easily but get regain the energy when he eats, so sometimes you have to stop just to feed him which he loves “open up baby~” “yes master~” he would gladly eat off of you while calling you “goddess”

Gaara⏳-*

Mommy issuessss, he also isn’t good with nicknames but one day ‘mommy’ slipped out while you were leaving marks all over him and it stuck

He doesn’t mind you doing literally everything but sometimes he wants to help but doesn’t know how “mommy…I don’t really know what I’m doing uhm, can you show me…?” Other then that he’s a classic softy sub!

Kankuro🪆-*

Mommy issues + brattyness! He starts off all teasing and bratty. One time he dead ass called you “dommy mommy” other then that it’s either ‘master’ or ‘mistress’

I’ve said it before he loves being a bad boy so he can get punished. Punishments are expected from you. “Ooo I’ve been a bad boy master~ please pull my hair!! Tie me up!! anything!!!” “Well your not shy huh?” “Nope I just want my dommy mommy to rough me up~” “don’t ever call me that again, seriously your slutty side is showing-” “FUCKK CALL ME THAT AGAIN MISTRESS~”

[pia-nor481]

She…what? Chapter One

Lando norris x reader (hints at Daniel ricciardo x reader

1.7k words | Series Masterlist

"Pardon?" Lando exasperated, looking towards his friend. They were sat in his hotel room, even now, no longer teammates, they made a point to go out together, or at least see each other every week. "I'm serious." Daniel replied, unsure as to why his friend reacted in such a way. "I'm not doubting you, I'm having issue comprehending what you've said." Lando spoke quietly, taking a sip of his drink. "She gives the best blow jobs." Daniel stated simply, looking at Lando's raised eyebrow. "Good for you man, but why are you telling me this?" He stood up quickly, to retrieve another drink, and hide his slightly red face. "Come on, I know you've not been laid for a while, plus I think you'd quite like her." Lando was at a loss for words, he walked back towards the bed as slow as possible, it wasn't strange for them to talk about their most recent hook up, but it was never like this. "I'm sorry, you're asking me to fuck some girl you're seeing?" Daniel's immediate response was to roll his eyes, not understanding Lando's struggle. "No, well I'm not seeing her per say. It's a little agreement of sorts."

"So she's a hooker?" Lando said, sounding slightly disappointed, not that he wouldn't be up for it, he was just expecting something different. "No, god no. She's a girl I've been sleeping with? yes. Do I pay for it? No. But it's not a relationship either. It's kind of hard to explain." Lando was sipping his drink throughout Daniel's small speech, he gained a small amount of clarity.

So here Lando was, currently hungover, after a night in a club post race, it was four in the afternoon and he was panicking slightly. Daniel had given him a room number and said that he'd understand everything when he was through the door, but it took a while for him to knock. Realistically, what was he supposed to say? His whole body was filled with a mix of emotions that made it hard to function, he was nervous, shy, and slightly embarrassed. He'd never spoken to anyone with in this context before, so to say he was struggling would be an understatement. The shuffling behind the door got louder and louder until he was met with a beautiful woman. "Hello?" Lando was stunned, she was truly enticing, especially when she spoke. "And who are you?" She said with a warm and sweet tone, a light smile adorning her face. "Lando." He struggled to get his words out, he could see why Daniel would not stop speaking about her. "You're Daniel's friend?" She turned away from him, walking further into the hotel room. It was only now Lando was able to see her fully; She adorned a silk robe, one that framed her so well. She poured him a glass of wine that he took, but chose not to drink. "Yes, I am."

"So, Lando, What did he tell you?" She emphasised his name, making eye contact with him, sipping her drink slowly. "To be honest not much." He looked almost bashful as the words left his mouth. "What would you like to know?" she practically whispered, moving closer, then placing her hand on his knee. She pursed her lips slightly as she began to run her hand further up his leg, making it harder for Lando to think. "What this really is, or what it will be." In all honesty, he didn't know how to act, or what to say. "Whatever you want, well, with in reason....Just not tonight." She jumped up rather quickly, swaying her hips as she walked to the other side of the room, pouring another drink. "Why?" Desperation laced his voice, eyes wide. "There is a lot of things we must sort first, and that will take quite some time." While her back was turned, Lando took this as an opportunity to look around the room. Claiming it was vast would be an understatement. Filled with the hotel's finest furniture with the lights set to a dim, sensual level would be the best way to describe it. But, this coupled with just the sight on her, was slowly turning Lando on. "What do we need to sort out?" His patience was wearing thin, but he was yearning for her already. She paused for a moment, but Lando was too focused on the mirror on the ceiling. "I have to learn about what you like, and you about my limits... You will also have to sign an NDA, no matter your decision." He was surprised with her proposition. 

"NDA?" Lando needed her to elucidate, why would she need him to sign such a thing, and not just the other way around. "You are not the only one with things to lose." She stopped speaking again, and walked into another room, leaving Lando to his thoughts; He had no right to ask about her personal life at this moment in time, however, that didn't stop his curiosity. What did she have to lose? How did she get into this situation? All those questions would go unanswered for a long while. He began to hear her footsteps once again, this time there was a paper in her grasp. "I'll give you a while to read through it." Lando had never read something so fast in all of his life, and so, was quick to reach for a pen. He was feeling warm, but not as dizzy as before, he was certain in is sobriety.  "So....Where do we start?" the driver had never asked so many questions in one day, but he just couldn't help it. He tried not to asked closed questions as he wanted o hear her seraphic voice. "Tell me about what you like, Lando, I promise I wont judge." She winked as she sat beside him again, keeping her body closer than before. He knew what she was asking but he just could not form a coherent response. His brain became foggy, but she waited for a while, trying to coerce him into relaxing slightly. "Let's start simple, do you have any kinks that you have? Or would like to try? It can only be a few for now." She tried not to overwhelm him, knowing this can be quite the stressful situation. With how personal this is, she knew that no matter how confident or extroverted the person was, it would still be very hard. His nerves were overt, so she began to run her hand over his arm and shoulder, waiting for a response. "Um...I like blindfolds...and...mirrors." He was hesitant, but as soon as he saw the smile on her face, his shoulders lowered slightly. "Well, isn't that convenient." 

Lando pulled her closer, practically forcing her into his lap, not that she wasn't pleased with the gesture; happy with his confidence back, she let him speak. "Anything I need to know about you?" His hands slowly danced up her back, trailing along her vertebrae. "A few things, I don't have many hard NOs. But you'll get to find out about that at a later date. I will say, I use the traffic light system. I'm guessing you're familiar with it?" His hands travel back down, groping her ass. "Yeah...Woah, you are responsive." He could feel her shifting in his lap more frequently now. "So, hows this supposed to work?" Lando began to move his hips slightly meeting hers. "I call you, or you call me, and if I'm not busy, you will have my room number, and we go from there." Lando smiled ear to ear, squeezing her thighs slightly rough, testing the waters. "If you're not busy?" He said in jest. "Yes Lando, I'm in very high demand." She laughed lightly, grinding harder. "Oh, so I'm one of the lucky few?" Lando's lips met her neck rather quickly, he began kissing and sucking lightly. "Exactly....Knew I'd like you." He laughed into her skin, waiting for another statement, but it never came. 

She pulled away from him, and he was once again dumbfounded. Lando licked his lips as his eyes raked over her body, he was so excited. But doesn't like to be teased. "Oh come on Sweetheart. Don't do this to me." He stood up, walking towards her, but she just backed away, walking towards the actual bedroom. "Oh Lando, I can't give you everything now, then nothing will be bring you back." She giggled, eyeing him up, she was excited to play with him. But it would be better if she made him wait. "Such a tease, I'll be punishing you for that." He threatened her with an opposing tone. Lando reached for his phone resting on the table as she spoke. "I look forward to it." She said in a sultry tone, backing away from his view. Lando walked towards the hotel door, feeling his phone buzz in his hand. 

"Considering how long you've been, I'd say you liked her" -Daniel 

Lando chuckled, choosing to leave his friend on read, the walk to his hotel room was short, it was only now that he noticed how close her and Daniel's rooms were. Lando continued to ponder until he was met with the number 303. He knocked lightly, knowing his friend was waiting. "So... What happened?" Daniel said, ushering him into the hotel room. Lando was hesitant to say, he was unaware of what happened with them, and didn't want to either say something he's not supposed to, or upset Daniel in anyway. It was a sensitive topic, and although he signed the non-disclosure agreement stating that he could discuss this with Daniel, it all felt a little strange. "We discussed a few things, and she had me sign an NDA. But other than that, not much." Daniel smirked, looking back towards Lando, offering him another drink. "That's good, you were gone for quite some time, so I'm guessing you liked her." Lando nodded, looking away for a brief moment, "Yeah, we uh...made out a little bit." He didn't know how to feel, so many emotions were running through his body, it was making it hard to focus, his hands were shaking slightly, and his eyes unfocused. Lando felt almost intoxicated with her. "Just wait until you're in her mouth." 

Chapter Two

[wriothesleysgf]

pretty boy. — gojo satoru

notes: some domestic gojo, because god knows everyone needs it today.

content: no angst, here we just reject canon and embrace fluff. implied non!sorcerer reader, but can be read either way. established relationship. not proofread. this post is leak/spoiler free! this song is the vibe i was going for, if anyone is interested.

"honey, i'm home!"

the familiar, ever-joyous tone of one gojo satoru rang through the apartment; it was always the highlight of your day. you, however, didn't respond. it concerned him a little, to be honest, but as soon as he heard the sounds of soft music echoing from the kitchen, he knew just where to find you.

you were too busy gently swaying to whichever song the radio station was playing to notice gojo. so, like any adoring boyfriend would, he leaned against the doorframe and watched.

he never thought he'd be lucky enough to have a love like you. with his position in the world of sorcery, and the prestige that his name carried, gojo always thought he'd be alone. hell, he was absolutely petrified of catching feelings for somebody, since there would likely be people willing to hurt the people that he loved in order to get to him. rationally, he knew he could defeat them, but the thought always lingered.

thus, he was incredibly grateful for peaceful moments like this. moments where he could forget that he was the honoured one, and feel like all he is is yours— because that's all he desires anymore.

gojo knocks on the doorframe, not wishing to startle you as you cook. you jumped a little, but immediately settled the very second you saw those blue eyes and messy white locks. he looked so effortlessly attractive, even after a full day's work.

without even saying a word, he saunters over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. his chin rests on the top of your head, and he continues to sway you to the rhythm. as he hums softly, you recognize that he's probably had a difficult day. it's not like him to be so quiet.

you relax under his touch and let him hold you, knowing he needs it right now. "i love you," he mumbles. each words is sincere with him. the tone is more sombre than usual, almost like you'd have expected the words to come from nanami instead.

you get to a point that you can leave the food alone for a moment as it cooks, and turn around to face gojo. his arms remain around you, but you can see his face more clearly now. he's exhausted, and trying to mask that. you move a few stray hairs out of his face, carressing his cheek. "i love you too," you finally reply.

the returned sentiment puts a smile on his face. it's not the regular, goofy grin he displays around others. it's something more real, and it makes you feel like you're one of the few people that gojo really lets in on how he's feeling. if anything, you quite literally are, as his infinity was lowered the second that he stepped into the threshold of your apartment.

since your guard is so far down, gojo begins to move you with ease. he guides your body around the kitchen, causing the pair of you to fall into a rather messy slow dance of sorts. both are content, at peace in each others' arms. there's a blissful silence, a rarity for the gojo household, where nothing but the calming music fills the air.

the two of you remain in this little, serendipitous bubble for a while. the only thing that pops it is when the food on the stove makes a concerning noise, and you notice that you were so caught up that it began to burn.

"shit!" you squeal, leaping out of gojo's arms to try to salvage your meal. he just chuckles, finding your hectic movements amusing.

"baby, don't worry about it," he says, smiling as he pulls out his phone. "i'm ordering in, we can deal with this mess tomorrow,"

gojo then moves closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms so that you can't escape with ease. he waddles backwards towards the living room, not stopping until you're both plopped down on the couch (of course he's on top of you, pinning you down yet somehow not suffocating you with the mess of long limbs that he is).

he flicks on the screen, which is showing some older and kind-of sappy romcom, and presses a few buttons to order your food. the night ends with the coffee table littered in takeout boxes and some movie still playing— you weren't sure what, as you had both fallen asleep in each other's embrace long ago.

[san8ny]

robber ellie falling in love with victim reader😭

Something.

?: tried experimenting with angst / Older!Divorced!Reader x Younger!Robber!Ellie / Bi!Reader

“and you decided on here of all places?” You ask for what seems like the hundredth time, cleaver in your hold waving in the air all too closely for Ellie’s liking.

“Fuck— yes, lady, like I said, I just get paid to do this shit.” She groans, struggling against the ropes you had her embraced in, “What kind of knots even are these?..”

“Now, i’ve never really had to use this up until now..”

She feels her eyes widen, color draining from her face at the implication, “Woah! H-hey, you wouldn’t need to. We can find a compromise—

“You tried stealing my father’s urn.

Ellie’s winces at the weight of your words, her soiled plan gone to waste, “I thought it was a regular vase.. but— but with that being said, I didn’t succeed so you don’t need to be so brutal! Eh?‘Whaddya say?”

You stare at her for a rather long time before taking the knife and inching it towards her,

Ellie’s entire body tenses up, teeth clenching and her eyes shutting to prep for her seemingly inevitable demise—

Instead, you lightly poke her chest with the knife experimentally, “You’ve got like, no boobs.”

“WHAT THE FUCK? O-oh my god, you’re a pervert..”

“You’re in my house.”

“THAT DOESN’T JUSTIFY IT!”

“Back on topic! Why my place?”

“Needed the cash, how else?” She spits, gaze still never meeting yours fully

“That bad?”

“Wouldn’t be robbing people if I didn’t, would I?” She snaps aggressively, though it was expected

“You know, you should be nicer to me.” You say, reaching over back for your knife threateningly. She seems to quiet down at that, relaxing her shoulders as she obediently nods,

“I think i’d rather you just call the police at this poin, lady..” Ellie whispers, not having the willpower to deal with your manical interrogations, “My dad is sick, alright? He’s on the verge of dying, and I need that money for his treatment. Content now?”

After a brief pause, you speak up,

“Tell you what, you give me proof of this.. and I might be graceful enough to do something for you.” You thumb her bangs, separating each strand to reveal the glistening beads of sweat that pool at her auburn hairline.

“Huh, why?” Her head raises at your all-too gracious proposal, what exactly were you playing at? Pay the person trying to rob you? It’s laughable.

“Well..” you tilt your head, “You’re interesting”

Eventually, you do let her go, informing her of an easier way out than she came in. However, a deep pit in her stomach tells her she’d had been safer with cops than with whatever you were.

The following week, she’s being put to absolute work once she’d validated her father’s bills with you— from scrubbing floors to literally helping you wash your hair in that stupidly huge bathtub you have— she wants to hate you. no, she does! She hates you with every fiber in her. So, why does she feel so strongly opposed to seeing you interact with your husband everytime he’s back from his job? Maybe she hates him too? Yeah, that must be! Ellie hates everything to do with you by proxy, including your husband.

“Have you ever considered marriage, Eleanor?” You ask out of the blue, politely cutting your steak as you two sit across from each other at the dinner table, your husband not being present, per usual, not like he ever is. “My name is Ellie, not..whatever that is.”

You grin at her response, “Aren’t you too old to be going by a nickname though? Especially one as infantile as Ellie? It sounds like a pet-name if i’m being honest.”

She feels a vein threatening to pop as she points her fork at you, “Well, it’s my name so either call me it or not.”

There it is. The way you stare at her even when she’s slightly out of line. It’s a mixture of both amusement and surprise. Like she was some sort of entertainment for you.

“Ellie it is.” You softly say, smiling as you chew your food.

She hates the way it rolls off your tongue smoothly, no sign of condescension in it despite your previous words.

She hates how she feels something else stirring other than supposed hatred.

The other time she’s noticed this odd-feeling of hers rear it’s ugly head, was when you two had visited a bath-house, you stripping with ease as you walk the small steps they have before relaxing into the steamy water. Ellie stands there awkwardly, watching as you let your hair-bun down, all stress exiting your body once the sensations of the water settle around you.

“Well, aren’t you joining me, Ellie?”

She bites her bottom lip in an anxious fashion, almost fighting herself whether or not she’d let herself get that close to you. Regardless, one overpowers the other so she, like you, quickly sheds her clothing, stepping into the pool experimentally, however, she maintains a moderate space inbetween you two, careful not to ever let her body even touch a bristle of hair on yours.

Facing across from you, she studies the way your eyes are closed, soft crows feet at the corners— you were only 31 as she learnt, and already seemed so tired of the life you lived, having to run an entire estate while your— fuck, she couldn’t even recall his name— husband, ran business elsewhere. Ellie saw and took care of you more than she’d ever seen him done. I mean, what did you even see in him— ..what is she saying?

At the realization, she turns her gaze away from your face, eyes instead busying themselves with the small ripples the water makes.

“You never answered my answer.”

She doesn’t seem to want to avert her gaze from the water just yet, but speaks, “I don’t answer alot of the questions you ask if you haven’t noticed.”

“So will you answer one if I ask now?”

“Why should I?” She scoffs at your bluntness, if she didn’t want to answer a question, it’s not like you’d force it out of her.

“I see.” You say, before standing up to dry yourself off with a towel. At this, Ellie seems alarmed. What happened? Why’d you leave so suddenly? Why— why does she seem to care recently more than she’d like?

A reasonable amount of time had passed since the bathhouse, and you seemed to forget about it reasonably quicker. Almost immediately, actually. Currently, you were hauled up in your study while Ellie sweeped the hallway flooring. Upon arrival to your door, she’s met with a quick ‘I’d like to be alone, thank you!’ She rolls her eyes, knocking again. When ignored again, she opts for a 3rd time, before you open the door in irritation, “What— Oh, it’s you, Ellie! Hello!”

“Yes, yes, it’s me, can I come in? I have to tidy up this room before I can clock it for the night.” She says briefly, attempting to enter the room before you block her way with a nervous smile, “I don’t think this room is obligatory, you can just skip it and leave.”

“Uh, no, I’d like to it now rather than have it pile up tomorrow.”

“That’s really not necessary, I mean it, i’ll clean it even.” You try one last time of persuasion. However, this earns you a blank state and an occasional eye-twitch.

Sighing, you step to the side, “If you insist..”

Ellie looks around as you return to your desk, massaging your temples as you seem focused on a slight-stack of documents. I mean, she hadn’t seen you this stressed since the time you were told the oak-tree in the grand-garden had to be cut down because the neighbors were complaining about it obstructing sunlight to their meek vegtable plants. You went though with it, with the help of Ellie’s shoulder and a couple of shirts she had to run through each time you soaked them with your tears.

“I thought you said you had an accountant for taxing?” she asks, dusting the bookshelves, “I do,” You say, biting the cap of your pen as you twirl yourself in the swivel-chair, “these are divorce papers.”

It’s almost like time itself stops when those words dawn on Ellie. You’re..divorcing whatshisname? It’s like a fever dream. Almost surreal. Sure, you two never seemed all that in-love but you had your moments like when you’d kiss his cheek before he departs for whatever country he had shit to do in, I mean, that’s..romantic, right?

“12 years i’ll never get back down the drain. This, is why I ask you if you’d ever marry. Could you ever dedicate your life to another for it to be wasted like this?” You snap your fingers to signify time, bitterly laughing at Ellie’s solemn expression, “Don’t look at me like that, I liked you better than the others because we mutually agreed not to pity eachother.”

There it is, that feeling she faces when these moments spring up on her.

It’s not pity, it’s more like understanding where you’re coming from— but that’d be sympathy. Ellie doesn’t feel quite sympathetic about it, I mean, rich people don’t exactly feel that anyways but, she wants you to be the exception. You’re not like whatever the bunch are. You don’t frequent country clubs and you don’t go seeking elaborate affairs to spice your life. You’re an unsatisfied woman.

“I was young, you know? When my family heard of the marriage, they immediately called me mentally unwell— his family? Even worse. Guess what they immediately came to as reasoning? Witchcraft. It’s comical, isn’t? Me using spells to make a man of all things want me. If I did that, i’d be with Christian Bale, I tell ‘ya! I should’ve taken my signs then when he wouldn’t defend me, but I chalked it up to his fear of confrontation. ” You share, sipping your tea, “Older Men do nothing but leech off your youth. Don’t be like me, Ellie.”

“I won’t.” She finally says, though her throat tightens up, making her voice extra quivery rather than the assertion she was going for.

“Oh dear, don’t tell me my cautionary tale scared you?”

“No! No! It didn’t. I was just wondering, does your rule .. also apply to women?”

A brow is raised in response to the question, “I’d say so, though it’s a more common practice among that accursed other gender.” You kid, smiling. Ellie’s lips slightly pull into their own smile, her worrying expression now relaxing when she thinks you hadn’t caught onto her words yet.

“Do you like older women?”

At that question, Ellie feels the embarrassment return double the amount, slightly ruffling her short hair as she feels the hotness reach her cheeks, “I’m indifferent.”

Ah.

You look out the window before looking at your ring, “I don’t suppose your answer is supposed to imply dual-affection?”

She sighs, continuing to sweep, “I only like women, miss.”

…

“I suppose a women as a lover would be nice.”

Ellie’s heart races at this, is..this an opening? What exactly were you trying to do by saying this?

“Have you ever been with one, Ellie?” You tease lightly

Oh, how she wished the ground would swallow her whole.

After a brief pausing to catch both her breath and recollection of thoughts “..No, ma’am.”

“Want me to be your first?”

How this turnt into many illustrious nights with Ellie warming your the bed had become something both of you couldn’t come with an answer for other transactional sex.

How scandalous would this be if it got out? A well known older, recent divorcee seeking comfort in the arms of her 20 something year old house-hand. It would only intensify rumors, not that you ever cared, but..

“I won’t let you ruin yourself.” You softly whisper, sweeping a light tucking of hair behind her ear, “You’re too sweet for your own good, Ellie..”

That night, while Ellie slumbers, you pull together her seemingly last paycheck, wads of cash together into an envelope that could easily total above 20,000 as you place them near her pillow.

When she does awake, she’s brought to the empty idea of you, slot next to her feeling cold and empty. Where did you go?

Instead of a verbal answer, she’s given one in the form of payment and a brief letter:

‘Will be enough for your father’s bill. Collect your stuff at once and leave.’

Even when she does leave— she says nothing, catching a glimpse of you sat on the stump of the old oak-tree in what seems to be deep thought.

As per usual, Ellie’s last to saying everything

“Anyone could have seen she wasn’t in the right of mind.” The elderly ladies exchange amongst themselves, “I just didn’t expect it to be in such bad taste. Nobody is going to buy that home.’

Ellie’s fingertips brush against the ‘SELLING HOME’ sign they’ve posted up, the other 20 she’s ran off with clearly not stopping the process of this house being sold.

How long has it been since you left her behind again?

[hysteria-things]

SUB NATHAN DOE PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏

also based off of this

DESPERATE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!nate x sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were in L.A. with your brothers all week. when coming back to boston, your boyfriend can’t seem to control himself.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, dry humping, p in v, overstimulation, small good boy kink, a little cockwarming

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 698

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: SURPRISE NATE NATION HERE’S A FIC😁

nate hates when you go to L.A. with your brothers. the main reason is because you're his girlfriend and he loves you, but what you don't know is that he does something that you don't even know about; despite dating for almost a year now.

he never touches himself when you're gone. no matter how desperate he is. poor boy will get hard if you post on instagram or if he scrolls through your saved chats on snapchat, but because you're not there to take care of it, he has to deal with the pain.

if he's in severe need, his hips will have a mind of their own and start moving to thrust against the pillow that sits between his legs. the fabric will rub at just the right spot through his pajama pants, squeezing tight around the pillow to rut into it harder.

closing his eyes tight, he'll bite on the pillow to muffle his pathetic sounds. it'll be embarrassing if his family could hear what he's like behind closed doors. aw, his pants will be ruined by the end of the night.

or how about that one time when just the thought of you would have his dick twitching. he'd be standing there, eyes closed, and imagining the dirty things he wants to do to you. underwear getting soaked from how much he cums in them by the thought of you.

nate knows that you'll find this behavior pitiful, hence why this is his dirty little secret.

although, he couldn't be happier right now. you, nick, matt, and chris got back to boston this morning, and of course, nate's the first one you wanted to see.

"i missed you," he says, smiling at how stunning you are when he pulls you into a hug.

"i can tell," you smirk, referring to the hard-on that's poking your thigh.

the touch of each other's skin feels soothing, and the way he thrusts softly into your cunt has you moaning lowly. nothing can beat 'i miss you' sex.

you already came once, but he’s fucking you through that high.

that’s when his movements quicken so suddenly, causing your eyebrows to furrow and for your nails to dig crescents in his shoulders.

“ah— nate, wait.” you gasp. it’s not like you guys never do it rough, but in this case, you want it to be something sensual rather than intense.

his head buries more into your neck, panting at the rhythm he’s going. “i love you so much.” he whispers into your ear.

“i-i love you too.” you groan, body rocking at the animalistic pace he’s going. it’s not like it hurts, but it was so out of nowhere that, to be honest, you’re starting to worry. “n-nate, please—”

“i don’t touch myself when you’re gone, you know that?” he whimpers, tears welling up in his eyes. “i missed you so fucking much.”

“s-slow down,” you whine, legs shaking when your g-spot gets hit.

he sobs quietly, interlocking his hands with yours. “i love this pussy so much! i-i was made for you. oh my god, i need to cum in you so bad. p-please let me—”

“baby, hey.” you say softly, cupping his cheeks to bring his head up. “look at me.”

finally, he slows before fully stopping. his eyes pool with tears.

you take your thumbs and wipe them away, pouting sympathetically. “i’m right here. you have to relax, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”

he takes a few deep breaths to calm down. he nods, moving his hips again but this time calmer.

biting your shoulder, your nails gently graze down his back. he makes eye contact with you the whole time, loving how you feel wrapped around him. arching slightly, you moan.

“i’m close.” he mewls, the tip deep into your clenching hole.

“be a good boy and cum for me.” you coo, nate shivering at the pet name and immediately releasing deep inside you. he smiles contently, collapsing on top of you to cuddle. his cock stays buried, wanting to keep his cum in where it belongs.

toying with his hair, his eyes flutter closed. now that you’re here with him, everything just feels right.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore

[byhuenii]

WHEN YOU KNOW YOU KNOW

synopsis! when you knew logan was the one for you and when logan knew you were the one for him (WC: idk..) pairing! logan ‘wolverine��� howlett x fem!reader warnings! usage of name instead of yn. stubborn logan. black reader in mind. probably ooc. soulmate au kinda. 🧏‍♀️ a/n! this was just some random thought i had and it turned into a mini fic of sorts, it’s alright but too BE HONEST this was so cute to write..

Hugh Jackman wolverine so that = him being tall as hell.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

To you. The idea of love at first sight was stupid, it wasn’t real and neither was soulmates. who would want to be bound with someone for their life—there was very few who you believed were soulmates and that was mainly jean and scott, they’d practically been inseparable

you could say it’s jealousy, and it’s not because you’re in love with one of them but rather because you wanted what they had. no matter what they were always mature about their relationship and always talked to each other; you had met logan after he was brought from the crash his personality was brash and off putting but his love for rogue is what made you want to get to know him more, it made your heart feel fuzzy..but in the best way possible

love at first sight was something you didn’t believe in but watching logan fight and risk his life to save this little girl he had just met turned something in you

and suddenly you believed in the thought of love and first sight moreover you believed in soulmates, he had slowly taken over your mind. he took over your daily life, it was embarrassing. you had never been this bad with anyone you had talked to

the sound of your heart beating roughly against your ribcage; the sight of him made your heart go a little insane. the small conversations you had, the littlest touches those were the ones that lingered those were the ones that stuck with you. you hated him you hated how he made you feel like you were going to explode like you wanted to scream into a pillow at night. you were in desperate need of advice, you had stormed yourself right to the lab.

“jean!!” your voice had boomed throughout the lab, jean had been in your mind lately she just hadn’t expected you to catch onto those feelings so quick. you were pretty stubborn, “when did you realize you were in love with scott..?” the loud call of her name to the normal tone yet desperate question made her have some whiplash

“when? i couldn’t tell you that” jean thought back to her first time meeting scott and their bond they had. “if this is about you and logan—”

yours brows furrowed “had you been reading my mind.” “[name] even without reading your mind your stares at him were enough to tell me everything”

jeans heels clicked against the floor as she put her hand on your shoulder, “i can’t tell you when or how i found out i liked scott but when you know you know” her eyes were soft. the question you had been trying to look for so long was right in front of you. you had always known you knew.

the minute you saw logan hold rogue so dear to him sacrificing his healing abilities so she would be able to stay alive was when you knew. “oh my god.”

But to logan, that was so much harder and took so much longer to simply admit he had fallen for you, he was 200 years old he was too old for you.

logan also had a gruff to him he always held people at a distance, he didn’t want to hold someone too close. he didn’t want to lose another person who he sought was important to him so he held you from a distance, it didn’t take much for you to work your way into his life

the xmen had treated him much like an outcast maybe much to his fault for being such a prick. you never let that get to you, a ray of sunshine that was just too nice—you actually cared about rogue, you wanted to help him you wanted to save rogue. maybe that’s when he started to grow somewhat fond of you

that was up to question he never took that as the sign, he’d saw you as a friend from that someone who was just nice to everyone. rogue had grown so fond of you she had always mentioned you in their conversations, it warmed his heart. to see rogue go from someone who held herself at a distance to being so comfortable in her own way especially with the help of you

logan had a smile on his face, one that could be missed. he had started to think about you a lot, your smell filled his nose. it was almost comfortable in such a way it’s as if your presence was able to comfort him, he knew you were there he knew you were safe; he’d catch himself staring at you more, lingering his touches a little more, he had this urge to hold you near him

“the way you look at [name] it’s different logan” rogue came from behind giving him quiet a scare, “jesus kid..” he grumbled. he couldn’t even notice that rogue was behind him at all,

rogue let out a small laugh putting her hand on his shoulder “you’re so in love with her, it’s sickening” she teased. logan refused to admit to no such thing “am not, you’re thinking nonsense kid”

“refusing to admit anything classic logan. when you have your ‘when you know you know’ moment do thank me”

his brow furrowed, a gruff smile as rogue had been right “don’t you have a class to be heading too?”

rogue rolled her eyes leaving him alone to head to class. logan had felt like his mind was going to explode, he needed a drink although it was school hours he opted for a dr pepper. “logan..!” your voice cause his head to turn behind in a rapid speed. “shit you scared me” he didn’t know why he lied he was just too excited to see you

a laugh escaped your lips, “did ya need something bub?” he put the dr pepper up to his lips sipping the carbonated beverage—“oh no no, i was just coming this way and i saw you” the damn smile you always wore, he could feel his shoulders relax his whole body relax

your scent filling up the room, honey, vanilla, and the smell of coffee you had always had with you. it was a comforting smell; the sun beamed through the windows casting this angelic look onto you, you were some kind of angel that saw the good in him and never judged him too harshly. his heart felt like it was beating harshly against his chest, he didn’t know how long he had been staring at you but it felt like hours. you were just so beautiful, it was a beauty in all his 200 years of living that was different

“logan” you waved your hand in front of his face, he seemed zoned out, “you still there..?” your face wore with concern. he laughed “yeah i’m still here bub”

“i was going to make some cookies since the kids really seemed to like them..” he watched your movement, the way you spoke so highly of the kids the way you held yourself to a standard never faulting to that. it made him feel weak, if he had been completely honest he hadn’t been listening to a single thing you said. he was just in a different world

a different world admiring you, he wore a small smile “so this is what she meant by when you know you know..”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

a/n — im still getting the just of writing again please bare with me </3

[oneshlut]

Oh my God.

I had a very funny and slightly strange idea...

Imagine that there is mutual sympathy between the reader and Jax. In short, Jax have crush on reader, but the reader... don’t know it (or just don’t see it.)

So, a new person appears in the circus. It doesn't matter who it is, what it is, what their name is, etc.

So, newbie and the reader became very close friends. I mean, sometimes spending the night in the same room, hugging, holding hands...(I mean friends not like lovers)

Look, I just want to see Jax get jealous, okay...?

Thank youuu🫶💋❤️

A/N: awwwww we love a jealous jax,,, thanks a bunches for requesting!! i've been getting OVERLOADED with requests (which is why i closed them for a while, dw, i've got a schedule goin for me now), i'm just so happy you guys enjoy my works!! yesyes, enjoy! <33

Overly Warm Welcome (Jax x Reader) [Imagine]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Imagine: Reader gets a bit too close to a new character, and Jax gets jealous. How does he respond?

You and Jax have always been close. Everyone in the circus knew this. Mainly because you were partners in crime, pranking everyone in sight together.

Jax would never admit it--not to you--but he had always enjoyed your company. You didn't think of him as some 2-dimensional asshole, but rather someone who actually had a life before. He felt.. seen.

On good days, you'd spend a bit of time in his room with him, chatting about nothing in particular.

Yup, I'm lying. The two of you gossiped about everyone all day. Bantering, teasing, joking.. Jax found himself growing increasingly fond of you. Eventually, he had put his full trust in you.

One day, a new sucker joins the circus. It happens every now and then, but not often, so he finds himself intrigued. Apparently, not as much as you were.

You and the new person became friends immediately. Jax is glad you were able to find someone to relate to, as you were both still pretty new.

Doesn't think much of the two of you at first. He's not immediately jealous, don't worry, his confidence is still intact.

So you start spending more and more time with them. Jax does miss you, but he's, again, not that fragile. He doesn't really care, neither does he care to know the person's name that you started spending all your time with.

He will get slightly more antsy around you, though. Doesn't ask you to join in on pranks anymore, since he thinks you're too busy. Okay, he's just dragging himself away from you at this point.

Jax will watch from afar as you and your friend chit chat and what not.. hoping you still cared for him, and then he just happens to spot the two of your hands were interlocked with eachother.

Surprisingly, that wasn't his final straw. Although, when you had talked to him earlier, he was much more tense with you. He forced laughs, and had a constant envious glint in his eyes.

He would've been fine, if you had just went up, introduced yourself to the new fella, and went on to your day. You could've stayed in a safe relationship with them where you only talked sometimes because of circumstance.

But that's not what happened, huh? Now, you had only spent about two minutes a day with him. And he missed you. There, he admitted it. And if he was being honest, he always wanted you and him to be something.. maybe something more. He's not too confident that's going to happen now, though. He felt overlooked.

You just now begin to notice the edge to his voice. Suddenly, he feels a lot more hostile to be around. He'd mumble about nothing in particular, be lots more rude around you. Ruder than usual, at least. And sometimes, he didn't even want to look you in the eye. Part of you thought that it was something you did.. and a small part of you thought he was just close to abstracting. But you knew him better than that. He had a better mental state than Kaufmo ever did.

One night, he decides to approach you about this. He didn't want to live in silence forever, did he? He also didn't want to.. live without you. But when he knocked on your door, his response was a hollow room.

Jax goes to Ragatha for answers, and tells him that the last she heard of you, you were on your way to the new fella's room. If anything was his last straw, this would be it.

But how else is he supposed to drag you away from them? He'd need a reason, and all he's got right now is.. either admitting he missed you, or admitting to something even more mushy and gushy. He did not feel like doing that at the moment.

Instead, it ends up accidentally slipping out in one of your conversations. Not the liking you romantically thing, but the, uh, missing you thing.

Hearing that he missed you left your heart soaring a mile a minute. I mean, sure, you were close, but.. Jax doesn't normally care for anyone. Except for.. you, apparently.

After you were able to silence the flush look on your face, you questioned him about it. He told you about how much time you've been spending with the "newbie", and how he just misses your company, is all. It didn't seem like everything, though. You decided to save that question for another conversation.

So, he was jealous? Hah, he denied it, but you knew better. You had apologized to him, and agreed to set up a prank on Zooble later that day. His voice no longer felt as tense, and you saw a glint of his usual cheeky grin coming back to him. You smiled back. Not before teasing him relentlessly about it, though.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Do I? - Beau Simpson x Reader

a/n: I've been wanting to write for Beau for a while (I love Jon Hamm and this is a hill I am willing to die on), so here's my first one for him. Inspired loosely by Do I? by Luke Bryan.

pairing: Beau Simpson x reader

warnings/content: angst to fluff, mentions of divorce if you squint, Beau being kinda soft, allusions to smut, allusions to child ab*se, Beau doesn't always know how to show his emotions but damn it he tries his best.

word count: 1.9k

taglist: @nouis-bum, @jessicab1991, @b-bradshaw, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

Do I turn you on at all when I kiss you, baby? Does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy? Do I have your love? Am I still enough? Tell me don't I? Or tell me, do I, baby Give you everything that you ever wanted? Would you rather just turn away and leave me lonely? Do I just need to give up and get on with my life? Tell me, baby do I get one more try?

Beau grumbled as he walked through the door, his keys dropping into the catch-all dish on the table with a clatter. His brows knit together as he looked around the room, searching for any sign of you being home. His tired blue-green eyes blinked as he raked a hand over his face, trying to wake himself up as he searched the house for you. Calling your name to no response, he furrowed his brow as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He frowned as he saw there were zero missed calls and zero missed messages from you, a sign that you were truly mad at him this time. 

He let out an exhausted sigh as he slumped into the armchair in the living room, picking up a discarded baseball your son had forgotten to put away and rolling it in his hands, over his fingers and back as his mind ran over the events that unfolded that morning.

He hadn’t meant to be cold towards you or Dylan. He’d been stressed and overworked, struggling with an upcoming mission that he had to plan out, trying to ensure the right team was put together for the job. Combing through dozens of personnel files until his eyes were sore, staying up all hours of the night trying to create an action plan, briefing notes - he rarely left base anymore. He knew you’d felt neglected, and God, he hated making you feel that way. He hated that you felt unwanted, unloved, and yet, you did everything you could to still make life easier for him. He knew he didn’t deserve that. In fact, he knew he didn’t deserve you–your patience, your understanding, your love and affection. He didn’t deserve to be Dylan’s father either, not that he’d been a particularly good one anyway. 

Dylan had a baseball tournament coming up, and you’d asked Beau if he’d be able to make it. Dylan’s team had never been invited to play before, but they’d managed to make it to a statewide tournament, teams from all over California would be there with their children, ages 8-10. The Coronado Crowns were having a record season, and Dylan had begun to emerge as their star pitcher. When you’d asked him about it, he’d had a dozen other things on his mind - he couldn’t even remember you mentioning it in the first place, if he was honest. He figured he’d hummed along in response, not hearing what you’d said, but not wanting to give off the impression he wasn’t listening. 

Unaware of what he’d agreed to, Beau bounded down the stairs this morning, his footsteps heavy as he headed to the kitchen. He was running late, and barely had time to have coffee with you, but he was determined to at least kiss you good morning before heading out the door. You’d frowned at him when you saw him in uniform, and immediately, his mind began to race, running through a list of scenarios that could have upset you. He wasn’t the most romantic husband - he knew that, but he was sure he’d never forgotten an anniversary or a birthday. It wasn’t until Dylan came down in his baseball uniform, his duffel bag packed for the four-day tournament slung over his shoulder. His face fell as he looked at Beau, an instant wave of guilt washing over Beau’s face.

“I’m sorry, I forgot, buddy, listen, I really have to get this done at work, I have a briefing scheduled for today, I can’t miss it,” Beau had explained, trying to reason with his 9 year old son. 

“I get it, Dad, it’s ok,” Dylan shrugged before sitting down at the breakfast nook for some scrambled eggs. 

“We’re leaving at 10, get to Oakland for about 8 tonight,” you explained, nodding your head as you forced a smile in Dylan’s direction.

Beau let out a frustrated sigh, of course you weren’t home now - you left four hours ago. You were halfway to Oakland by this point. He leaned his head back against the chair, shutting his eyes for a moment as he dragged his hand over his face once more. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he’d let you both down. He checked his phone again. If he left now, he could probably make it to you and Dylan by 11 if he made minimal stops on his way. He could make this right, he could show up tonight, surprise you - surprise Dylan in the morning when he woke up, spend the weekend being the father and husband he’d failed to be for the last month or so. 

Beau bolted up the stairs, quickly changing out of his uniform and into more relaxed, civilian clothes. He grabbed a bag from the closet and began to shove some clean clothes inside, showing little care about keeping them neat or organized. He headed to the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and his razor, tossing them all into the bag in a hurry. Bounding back down the staircase, he stepped into his running shoes and flew out the door with his keys and bag in hand. A well-loved baseball cap from his college days sat in the front seat - a relic he’d meant to bestow to Dylan but forgotten about. He placed the cap on his head, sporting it backwards, just as he would have done 30+ years ago when he got it. 

As he drove down the interstate, he thought about the ways he could apologize to you. His mind ran through all the things you liked, the romantic gestures he’d heard you mention, the different romcom tropes you loved - anything he could think of that could make up for what he’d lacked in as a husband. When he stopped for dinner, pulling into a fast-food restaurant just off the highway, he contemplated what he’d say when you asked him if he was insane, knowing that was exactly how you’d respond to hearing that he drove down after all, determined not to miss a minute of Dylan’s tournament. He thought about how he’d pull you in close, giving you an emblazoned, passionate kiss as he held you in his arms, giving a rare, dramatic, public display of affection. He yawned as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel you were staying at with Dylan, finding an open spot next to your car. He got out, smiling fondly as he spotted the bedazzled steering wheel cover that he always teased you about - the one he’d begrudgingly bought for your birthday when you’d asked for it, pretending to find it ridiculous when really, he was admiring you for it, for being so unashamedly yourself. It was a quality he was jealous of in you - he’d been brought up in an old-school military family, taught to be seen and not heard, to blend in with everyone else and to remain reserved the majority of the time. He rarely cracked a smile outside of the house, and really, even wearing a baseball cap outside of a Padres game was unlike him. 

He approached the front desk with a look of pure determination on his face, his bag clutched in his hand. Once he made it to your room, he rapped on the door with a gentle knock, trying not to make too much noise in the hopes he didn’t wake Dylan. You opened the door, looking ready to chew out whoever it was knocking for waking you, but your look of anger quickly dissipated as you wrapped your arms around Beau tightly. 

“You flew down here?!” You whispered excitedly, arms draped around his neck.

“No, flights were booked,” Beau shook his head with a chuckle, a soft smile forming on his lips, “I drove.”

“You…you drove?”

“Mhmm, all nine hours. I’m surprised I made it before midnight, I finished my briefing early, managed to get the plans set for the mission, and then got home and realized I had time to fix things with you and Dylan.”

“He’ll be so excited. He was devastated at the thought of you not making it to see him play.”

“Look, I have to talk to you, ok?” He began, shaking his head as he let out an awkward chuckle, frowning as he tried to collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been the worst husband to you. I know I have. I know I’ve made you feel unloved, and unwanted, and unimportant, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’ve never wanted our marriage to be strained over my work, and I know my job is demanding and it’s difficult some days for me to put you and Dylan first - but believe me, I love you two more than anything. You know that, right? And, I know you probably aren’t happy with me - I don’t blame you. I know you probably wanted to divorce me ten minutes ago, and you’re complete right in thinking that - I would have deserved it.”

You pressed your lips to his gently, interrupting his rambling with a soft, tender kiss. He pulled away gently, reaching up to take the baseball cap off of his head before ducking down to kiss you again. He pulled away after a moment, breathless and blissful as he gazed at you.

“So, am I still enough for you? Do you want me to leave or do I get another chance?”

“You’ve always been enough, Beau,” you shook your head, beaming up at him, “Even when you forget commitments and you get caught up with work, or when you don’t always say the right thing, you always make up for it and try to fix things, and that’s one of the things I love about you. You drove nine hours when you realized you couldn’t catch a flight down here because you realized how much it meant to Dylan and I for you to be here. I don’t know many other men who’d drop everything on a dime to do that.”

“I guess that’s true,” he nodded, shaking his head in disbelief before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I mean it though, I really think you could have done better than a middle-aged Admiral who can’t show his emotions very well and doesn’t know how to prioritze anything correctly.”

“You’re right, I could have, but where’s the fun in that?” You teased, taking the baseball cap from his hand and placing it back on his head, backwards.

“By the way, Beau, you should wear a hat like this more often.” 

“Yeah? You think so?”

You bit your lip seductively, holding back a wicked grin as you looked up at him, nodding your head, “Kinda makes me wanna show you just how much I love you.”

“Dylan’s asleep in here,” he laughed, shaking his head as his cheeks flushed.

“Dylan is sleeping in Ryder’s room, three doors away, actually.”

Beau’s eyes widened slightly, his hands drifting down to your hips. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, turning his head to the side to scan the room, seeing that, you were in fact, alone. When he turned, you caught a glimpse of the salt and pepper streaks that ran through his hair on the side of his head, the sight alone almost enough to make you melt. 

“Well, in that case, let me show you just how sorry I am.” 

[fictionlovingnerdgirl]

Can I request Scott summers x reader where he has a very intense infatuation with the reader

The Red Means I Love You

A/N: Hello there, this is my first time doing something like this so I hope it turns out okay, I couldn't think of a name so I decided to just do song lyrics. I hope that's okay, and if anyone has any better name ideas do tell me!! Oh and I'm tiptoeing around using "Y/N" cause I'd rather die 💀

Warnings: Cursing, intense infatuation over the reader, obsessive thoughts, etc.

Scott felt like he was going insane, he hadn't even properly met them yet but he was going crazy over them. The way their hair fell, the way they walked, the way they teased, oh God.

Jean was gonna have his head for this one, sure they broke up, but she got weird when others flirted with him. How would she react to him showing interest in someone else? At this point he barely cared, they were all in the kitchen together. Him, Jean, Logan, Storm, Hank, and you. Talking about stories from the field, near death experiences, missions gone wrong, all that fun stuff.

You were wearing a cute set of pajamas, the pants had their X logo on the side, and the shirt was a yellow that complimented your- Damn it this was gonna get him caught. He could already see Jean's eyes flicker to him and her face lacing in suspicion.

"So I was on my way back to the jet, right? And right before I got there I heard this noise, I looked behind me and- Scott do you remember this?" You look his way and it's like his whole world was shaking, and he was too if he was being honest.

"Uh- yeah, yeah I do." He says, trying to reel himself back into reality, but your eyes were dancing around his face and he felt like he couldn't breathe. But then you smile at him and he lets out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding. His hands are a bit shaky but he's crossing his arms so you don't notice. You won't notice.

"Yeah, I turn around and I go to attack and I see Scott-" they laugh, everyone in the room is listening intensely to you and Hank was leaning into the island across from you, too close. "And I swear I almost took his head off, I didn't know it was him I swear!" They laugh like an angel "Tell them Scott!" You smile, turning towards Scott and tilting your head. Scott could never ignore you, he would do anything for you.

"I believe you." he laughs and smiles back at you, he feels like someone spiked his drink but he knew it wasn't possible. You have that effect, he guesses. As the others start talking and taking their turns telling wild stories he realizes your eyes don't fall from him, you're still looking at him, taking him in.

His face heats up and he rearranges his stance under your gaze, swallowing and looking around at everyone else but his eyes fall back to you almost immediately. You're making little glances at everyone around you, but he can tell you're focused on him. And it's driving him crazy, do you know he's looking at you? Is he being weird?

"Scott, Scott are you listening?" Jean groans, making him jump a little, turning to look at her. "Yeah sorry, sorry. I just have a headache."

But Jean doesn't buy it, instead studying his face and reaching into his mind. "Whatever, Scott. Have fun with your little crush." She rolls her eyes and walks out of the room, giving an awkward feel to the air. Before he notices your eyes on him again, concerned, confused, and mesmerizing once again.

"Sorry, guys I- I don't know what that was about." he knew. "It's alright Scott, I should get going anyway, goodnight guys!" Hank nods and waves before walking away. After awhile a few others leave, obviously the mood was brought down. Damn it, you were probably next.

You watch Scott, and after a while you go to the fridge, bringing him a drink. "So, Summers." You take a drink from your drink, licking your lips after, he can't help but watch everything you do. "Wanna explain that?" Oh. No. He can't explain that, if he did she would be calling him a stalker or something.

"Uh, I don't know what you're talking about." Good one Scott, just play stupid. But then you do that thing, the small tilt of your head to signal your confusion. Pretty pretty pretty.

"Whatever you say, Summers. See you tomorrow." You sigh and look him up and down before turning to leave. And he just watches you through his red tinted glasses. Anything else would just end.. Badly for him.