#i would cut off my arm if it would make me someone’s favourite
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ew 5am vent on main pls ignore this
open communication is only so difficult because you have to be vulnerable. “hey can you stop doing (normal thing) because i’m so stupidly insecure and emotionally immature that it absolutely ruins me every time” ?!?!?! i’d literally rather die than admit that to anyone
#i can confront people about objectively bad shit no problem#and i can talk it out with anyone#but the second my qualms are subjective? i just bury them deep and try to pretend they dont exist#i’m afraid that if i ever let anyone know how damn jealous i am that i’d scare them away#it’s not like a malicious jealousy i don’t wish harm upon anyone#but rejection makes me malleable#i would cut off my arm if it would make me someone’s favourite#and knowing that just makes me more disappointed in myself#for lacking the self esteem that comes so easily to others#ugh. i’ll delete this later
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jason todd x reader
warnings — mentions of blood, death, violence, weapons, jealousy. unedited!!
a/n; i have to fight myself not to make reader have certain traits of mine like my anger issues but sometimes she deserves to be a little crazy. as a treat.
JASON TODD with someone that matches his freak.
You have so much patience and grace for him and he loves you for the way you make him feel less broken every day you’re together. But he won’t lie that he enjoys it when you’re the one who goes a little crazy.
He teaches you self defence pretty regularly, because he knows he can’t always be there, protecting you on the streets of Gotham and he’d rather you be prepared for any given scenario.
You’re a good student, listening to his every word and successfully mastering most of the manoeuvres he teaches you. He enjoys teaching you for many reasons, one of them being that he has an excuse for keeping his hands on you. But his favourite thing is the way your eyes light up when you manage to knock him off his feet or land a hit.
You ask him if he’s alright because there’s a pink flush kissing his cheeks and he mumbles that he’s fine, but really he’s blushing because he’s embarrassed about the sick thoughts he’s having about you being able to physically hurt him. That is until you grab one of his knives off the table.
You twirl it between your fingers, seemingly fascinated with the way the warm lighting of your apartment reflects off the blade, showing off its fatally sharp edges.
“Would you teach me how to stab a guy?”
He feels like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. Your voice is so sweet, asking him such a question so politely and who is he to deny you?
Never in a million years will Jason think he deserves you, and there’s always going to be a little voice in his head that says you could leave him at any given time for any one of your choosing. Which is why he gets jealous really easily, but he tries his best to hide it as not to scare you away.
Not that it would, since you never bother hiding the scowl on your face when you catch another girl throwing glances at him now and then. Jason doesn’t even notice the other girl until he looks over at you and sees the dark look in your eyes and suddenly his blood runs hot.
God forbid a girl tries to talk to Jason in a flirty way, because you’re immediately there, wrapping your arms around his waist, fingers sneaking under his leather jacket.
“Hey, babe,” you say, voice deliberately sweet as you look up at him. “I was looking for you.”
“That so, sweetheart?” he murmurs, amusement flickering across his blue eyes as his arms naturally find your waist. He completely forgets there was even another girl talking to him until you turn around to stare her down.
“And you are?”
“Oh, uh, no one,” she says, faltering slightly, her eyes still glued to Jason. “I was—”
“Right,” you cut her off, a smile gracing your face, but your voice is flat and devoid of any emotion. “We were just leaving.”
You don’t bother waiting for a response before you’re dragging him out of there and he’s gladly letting you.
Your smile drops as soon as you’re both alone and you’re letting go of him, walking faster ahead of him. He catches up to you easily, trying not to laugh when you bat his hands away. “I hope the two of you are very happy together,” you snap, refusing to look at him.
Jason grins, stepping in front of you to stop you. You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “You could have shut that down, you know.”
He exhales a laugh, tilting his head and smiling even wider at how pissed off at him you look. “There was nothing to shut down,” he says truthfully, stepping closer to invade your personal space and uncrossing your arms to pull you closer. “Plus, I like seeing you a little jealous.”
A little is a bit generous since you look downright murderous, but he’s not complaining in the slightest.
You still refuse to look at him. “I am not jealous. I could have easily beaten her ass,” you mutter.
Jason huffs out a laugh, and when you scoff and turn away, he catches your wrist and tugs you forward so you stumble against him, using his chest to steady yourself. His lips ghost against your ear, making you shiver slightly as he whispers, “My money’s on you, babe. And for the record, you’re the only one I’m ever looking at.”
Your irritation melts into something else entirely and you playfully roll your eyes at him. He knows he’s got you now, just like he’s aware of how much you pretend to hate that he knows how to handle you.
When he comes home, covered in blood finally allowing his shoulders to sag with exhaustion, you don’t even flinch at the sight of him. You smile when he enters your apartment, dropping a kiss to his cheek in greeting and guiding him to sit.
“Any of this blood yours?” you ask, calmly. He doesn’t miss the concern in your voice and the way you’re subtly checking each area covered in blood for any hint of a wound.
He shakes his head and your body relaxes. “Good,” you mutter, focused now on scrubbing away a spot of dried blood from out of his suit. You don’t bother attempting to clean his hair since you’ll get it out in the bath a bit later.
He watches you, waiting for you to ask a question that never comes. The question that he feels like the members of his family are always asking in an attempt to morality check him.
You’re not like them, though. Your expression remained unfazed when the washcloth in your hands is more red than whatever colour it was before.
His jaw tightens. “You’re not gonna ask?”
“Ask what, Jay?” You tilt your head, pausing in your movements. He hesitates for a second.
“How many?”
Understanding dawns on your face and you slowly nod. “Ah. Well. Do you want me to ask?”
He studies you for a long moment as you resume your work with the washcloth, moving to the areas that the blood seeped through a gap in his suit to coat his wrists. The quiet hum of your shared apartment settles around you both. Then, he shakes his head. “No.”
“Alright then,” you say softly, setting the washcloth down. His bloodied shirt is next, torn in some places, damp with sweat from overexerting himself. You grab the hem, pulling it over his head and he lets you. Tossing it to the ground, you hesitate for the first time tonight when you catch sight of his torso. You frown, fingers skimming over his bruised ribs. Your touch is light, careful. You finally meet his eyes, unflinchingly. “Every single one of them deserved it.”
A sharp exhale leaves his lip, something between relief and something else — something darker. He shudders out a breath and finally allows himself to touch you, knowing you won’t break.
Pulling you closer, he rests his head against your chest, melting into you when your fingers start to lightly scratch against his scalp.
You aren’t scared of him. You never would be, he was pretty certain of that. He even sees some of that same darkness in you that he used to wish he could rid himself of. And he loves you for it.
Jason has never been more fucking gone for anyone in his life.
a/n cont.; only difference between reader and a psych ward patient is that she’s outside
#i promise I’d match your freak jason…#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd scenarios#jason todd fluff#jason todd drabble#jason todd imagines#jason todd smut#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood fanfiction
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game on 02 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2.9k
genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l
rating: 18+
warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man
summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.
a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋
read chappie one here
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"Just kiss me."
"Hold on a second."
"We really need to practise this."
"I know, just give me a minute."
You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.
You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.
You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.
"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."
"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."
"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."
"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."
Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.
Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.
Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.
But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.
In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.
Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.
"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.
"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."
Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."
The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.
Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?
While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.
Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.
Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.
You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.
"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."
You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.
Taesung slid a document across the desk.
"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"
Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."
"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.
"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."
"It’s okay," you assured him gently.
Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."
After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.
Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.
But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.
Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.
"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."
You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.
"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"
A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."
"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"
"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"
You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.
"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."
"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."
"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."
Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.
"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.
"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."
He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.
After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.
Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.
And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.
"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."
Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."
You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.
"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."
You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.
"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."
You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.
"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.
"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."
"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.
"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."
"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."
You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.
Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.
"I think you do."
With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.
"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."
You frown upon hearing him complain.
"What, you want to make out with me in public?"
Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."
"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.
Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."
The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."
His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.
Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.
Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.
The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.
Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.
When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.
"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."
You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"
"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."
Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."
"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."
He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.
"Are we done practising?"
"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"
It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.
The sound grabs his attention. "What?"
"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."
"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.
He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.
Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.
You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.
"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."
"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.
"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."
"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.
"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."
"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.
“We have to practise hard, then," he says.
You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."
"Oh, butterflies."
"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.
"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."
You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."
~
Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.
"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.
You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.
"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.
He holds up one finger. "Just one."
You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.
"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."
You scoff at his bratty words.
"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"
"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."
"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."
"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.
"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.
It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.
You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.
You follow Jungkook to the door.
"You think she’ll believe us?"
"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."
Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.
You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.
"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."
#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook scenario#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook best friend#jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#bts imagine#bts scenario#bts fic#bts x you#bts x reader#bts smut#bts scenarios#bts jungkook
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Be a Brat and Find Out | Quinn Hughes
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summary: there is only so much of bratty you that Quinn can take before he teaches you a lesson.
request: yes/no
warnings: mature themes, p in v, swearing, cock riding?
word count: 0.95k
authors note: hello and welcome to the first part of the one shot wonder event! this was so much fun to write, I am not someone who usually writes blurbs let alone smut ones so I really do hope that this is enjoyed by you guys. the idea for this one stuck in my brain for a while so it was about time I got it written out!
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This was a sight Quinn swore would have been in his dreams.
Your whimpers echoed off of the walls of your bedroom “fuck baby you could have had such a good night.” Quinn sighed keeping his hands on your hips, making sure that you couldn’t stop your movements.
You sat in nothing more than your Canucks scarf tears stained your cheeks with your lipstick practically gone now. The folds of your pussy wrapped around his cock “please Quinny.” You begged cutting yourself off as he brought his hand up to tug at your scarf “don’t make me out to be the bad guy doll.”Quinn shook his head.
The captain raised his free hand up to smack your ass “ahh.” You whimpered feeling him massage the area of your skin that he had hit.
You had pushed him over the edge that night after particularly rough game. It toppled over the tower of close interactions you had with Cole McWard over the last week. Quinn swore that he was close to killing his younger teammate if you laughed at another stupid thing that came from his lips. But now it was you that felt the brunt of Quinn’s anger.
That’s how you ended up on his cock because after a long ride home where you were dangerously close to pulling his cock out in the car, when your hand edged dangerously close to his upper thigh. Quinn refused to believe that you deserved to be properly fucked, that’s why you weren’t sat with his cock inside of you. You had fucked yourself on his thigh before, in fact it was one of your favourite things when you craved his attention.
But now Quinn sat watching how your folds swallowed his cock, desperately rubbing your clit against his length. It was selfish, even you knew that but god were you loving how the hunger in your stomach felt.
Your eyes screwed shut feeling his cock throb against your clit “shouldn’t even fucking let you cum.” Quinn scoffed as he wrapped his arms around your throat slowly the blood flow to your brain “no!” You yelled shaking your head.
The boy cocked his head “you think that’s the right attitude to get what you want?” He asked squeezing his hand “please Quinny.” You begged almost wondering how coherent words came from your lips.
Quinn smiled, you were on the right track, “please what?” He pushed your buttons now feeling his strength wavering “wanna cum so bad.” You pleaded with a soft sniffle.
Your body jolted feeling the head of his cock brush against your let, his precum spreading against your sensitive bud. His hand forced your hips back down, you weren’t allowed to get off that fast “even after you were such a brat all week?” The captain taunted you, using the hand that stayed around your throat to keep you upright.
You tried everything to rest your head against his shoulder “sorry.” Was all that escaped from your lips “for what?” Quinn chewed at his lip seeing how your slick coated his cock.
It shone like it screamed to actually be fucked, to be given the chance to feel the walls of your cunt stretch to allow his cock in “just wanted your attention.” It was no secret that the Canucks weren’t doing their best, but Quinn was on edge because of it.
Quinn frowned at your words “and you thought that this was the best way to get it?” He shook his head watching you drive your hips with even more desperation now.
You nodded gnawing at the inside of your cheek “please Q.” You begged refusing to let yourself cum into he said you could.
The boy felt his eyes flutter “you promise you’re gonna behave?” The question stuck to your skin like sweat.
You were never going to listen to that, like Quinn shouldn’t have been surprised if he was hoisting your ass over his knee next week “promise.” You nodded watching Quinn bring your face closer to his.
His lips pursed together “open that mouth f’me love.” This was the first time that night he said something with love.
So naturally you clung to it, your jaw went slack as your tongue rolled out. But what you didn’t expect was that Quinn would let a glob of saliva go from his lips. It landed in your tongue and he swore he saw stars watching you pull your tongue into your mouth as you swallowed what he had deposited into your mouth.
A grunt escaped from his lips “make a mess sweet girl.” He cooed sending you a nod. That was all it took for you to drive your hips harder, feeling how the very inch of his cock felt against your clit. You were desperate to fuck him but this was all he said you deserved.
Your eyes screwed shut when your mouth fell open “right there baby.” Quinn grunted taking over as he began to feel his own high coming fast at him.
It was almost pornographic how your moans mixed into each other as they painted the walls. Quinn didn’t know who exactly came first as his cock shot warm sticky ropes against his stomach. Your legs shook as your cunt gushed against his dick, not letting your thrusts stop because it was unclear if it was you or him controlling your pace.
You had barely come down from your high as you kissed at his shoulder “shit!” You groaned feeling his cock thrust into your cunt.
Quinn laughed pressing a kiss against your head “you really thought that you’d get away with all that this easy?” The captain asked, flipping you both over so he could remind you who was really in control.
#ambers one shot wonder#quinn hughes blurbs#quinn hughes x y/n#hockey blurbs#nhl blurbs#hockey smut#nhl smut#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes imagines#quinn hughes x reader#amber writes blurbs
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my man | aizawa shouta X reader
[oneshot; (part 1) . (part 2 will be out soon)]
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.
It's bittersweet walking through the gates of the school building you would run around in with your friends almost a decade ago now.
Not a thing has changed, you can still imagine yourself chasing Shirakumo to get back your lunch while the other girls leave you behind not wanting to deal with what comes next.
This 'next' is Yamada's loud calls. Obviously, the whole of the school would know who he is looking for during the breaks. His voice made it from one end of the school to the other and that, when U.A. covers a massive swathe of land.
One of the only unfamiliar places of the school is where you're headed now– the teachers' lounge.
It's going to go well.. relax.
You're nervous, not because you've now chosen to teach in the very school you yourself became a hero but because you will finally be in front of the faces you haven't seen in ages having needed to move abroad immediately after school for your mother's cancer treatment.
The door opens before you can hold the knob revealing the same principal from years ago, you wonder if he ever ages at all.
"Just in time, (L/n)-san. I just briefed the other teachers about you." his lips curve to the same smile you've known forever and instantly, one rises up your face, he continues, "How have you been?"
"I've been doing well." you smile and enter as he open the door thereby coming into sight of all the people sitting in the room.
"That's brilliant to hear." Nezu lifts his paw, but before he can say anything else, a way-too-loud call of "(Name)-chan! You're the new teacher?" cuts in.
Nezu doesn't hold you both back from having your moment. Instantly, Yamada hurries in for a hug, "You're back– wait, I should be mad at you for not keeping in touch!"
Midnight is next, she calls you her favourite Kohai from school times and brags to everyone about the fun you all would have fun after basically lifting you and swinging you around in the hug.
The others teachers chuckle and them and tell you they haven't been their chaotic selves in some time before this.
It is during the talk with the new people around that you notice Aizawa Shouta leaned against the wall in the corner of the room, his face turned to the ground in front and a conflicted look adorning it.
Your lips twitch– he hasn't even come to greet you despite you having returned after almost a decade.
Something tells you you shouldn't be surprised, however. He has always been his 'stay out of attention' self. Maybe he didn't want to draw too much of attention to the fact that he knows you too?
But he is a teacher here so he shouldn't be complaining about attention in the first place.
Oh, whatever reason it is.
You make your way to him while the fuzziness from years ago enters your chest again. It's alright– you know you feel exactly the same way for him as you did years ago.
Or maybe whatever this is more intense. You've longed for him for almost a decade now after all.
"Shouta-kun." his name sounds melodic as it leaves your lips, "H-How are you doing?" there is a small pause, "I mean.. y-you remember me, right?"
The indifferent, unfamiliar look in his eyes makes your throat fill up with an acidic doubt. You swallow hard.
"I don't have the memory of a goldfish, (Name)-chan." he sigh and turns his head to the side, "Of course I remember you. You were way to noisy to forget back then."
"I can't tell whether that's a compliment or an insult." the laugh that escapes your lips is more of relief than amusement.
He hums, then steps away from you, turning to say, "Go figure out." before he walks off.
You halt, blinking a few times at his figure leaving the room.
"It's time for class." Yamada's arm falls on your shoulder, "It's not that he's running from you or something, okay?"
You let out a snort, "As if I'd assume that." but you partially have.
"Lie to someone else." he shakes his head, then holds his hands in front of his face, "Shouta-kun's mind is tunnel visioned to his students like this during work hours here. All of ours are– minus Nemuri-chan because she's.. well forget it, you'll get to know –but, point is, you'll have to work hard here, (Name)-chan."
"Oh, hit me with anything, Hizashi-kun." your lips tug upwards.
He frowns, "But that day I hit you with the iron rod, you cried."
.
_______________________________________________
.
"What does go figure out even mean?" your head rests against the glass window. Classes ended half an hour ago and you're proud to say you did pretty well for a first time.
"It means go figure out." Yamada gives you company to act like an idiot in front of the departing students, "What do you think it is, a compliment or an insult?"
"Totally an insult." you deadpan at him.
"At least your retardation hasn't gotten worse over the years." Aizawa's voice walks past the both of you and you and Yamada immediately jolt straight and turn to see him walk away with test papers.
"A test on the first day of school after summer break?" you shiver, "Shouta-kun's the devil to his students."
"Oh," Yamada shakes his head pitifully, "he is. Before the last year, he always told the whole class they've failed and are expelled from the school just to give them a near death experience."
"That idiot.. " your gaze lingers on his figure walking further away in the corridor. The boy you knew was just nineteen when you last saw him.
He's a man now.
They both really did age well.
Your mind prefers to place Aizawa on the top of this 'aging well' hierarchy until Midnight comes into your mind and you have to readjust with a chuckle.
To celebrate your return, Yamada drags you all into a restaurant he owns for dinner later that evening.
Partially, you hope he would have given you time to get dressed pretty for a certain pair of tired black eyes but the other part argues you've lose your head in stress of what to wear and what to not if that happened.
Conversations drag on at the table while plates empty into all of your stomachs. Being heroes means a massive diet after all.
"And then there was this weird self-obsessed-ish kid." you did try to eat decently in front of the others but they remembered how rabid you are so it was no good.
"Who– wait, I know. It's Monomoa." Yamada laughs, "No one else in 2B fits under that terminology."
"He's not self obsessed, come on." Aizawa sighs and shakes his head, "Are you seriously considering teaching at U.A. a joke?"
"I mean.. " you shrug, "they took you in so it would be pretty lousy here, wouldn't it?"
Yamada and Kayama laugh.
"Oh?" Aizawa's eyebrows raise, "Says the girl who lost a Sports Festival match because a bug got into her costume."
"For your information, it was a worm." you gag at the memory, "And it reminded me of you and your yellow sleeping bags, Shouta-kun. Now tell me then, do you want something that reminds me of you to be wiggling around my boobs?"
Yamada snorts out a glass of water to the side. Aizawa scoffs though he clearly is surprised to see you're just as shameless as you were back then.
"When will you ever grow up?" he rolls his eyes.
"When you get your hair cut short." you place the glass on the table with full confidence, ignoring the way Yamada signals you to change your statement from the side.
"Tomorrow then." Aizawa nods, his lips pulling into his signature shit-eating grin, "If you don't grow up tomorrow, you're responsible for cleaning up all toilets in the staff room."
You realize he would definitely have his hair chopped if it means rubbing this into your face, "Don't you dare touch your hair, Shouta-kun." you life your knife up at him, "Those luscious locks must stay."
While Aizawa facepalms, Kayama laughs out loud in laughter. You tell her she's laughing at anything and she replies telling you you're hilarious.
"And," you turn back to Aizawa, "if that's your way of inviting me to your bathroom, Shouta-kun, I accept the offer." the way he rolls his eyes is enough to make you stop using the playfully seductive tone.
Yamada rubs his cheeks, "Man, living with Shouta-kun's going to give me depression. I haven't laughed much yet but my cheeks already hurt. I'm so glad you're back, (Name)-chan."
"Me too." your expressions melt like butter, you flash them all a beautifully genuine smile, voice getting the slightest bit heavy, "I missed you all so much."
"If you cry, I'll puke." Aizawa comments.
"If I puke, I'll make you lick it all off." you comment back, expressions stoic and staring into space.
Aizawa makes a disgusted face. Kayama has almost actually puked out something at the thought. This sort of talk while eating effects Yamada as little as it does you.
"You took general studies too?" Aizawa sighs and decides to change the topic before you say something more gross.
"Yep."
"Anyone noticeable?"
"If you mean that purple turnip head boy with eyes as head as yours, yes. If you mean anything other than the fact that he's probably an insomniac, no." you shrug and take a bite of your food.
"That's Shouta-kun's son." Yamada snidely mentions. You choke and cough out the contents of your mouth.
"Stop it, Hizashi-kun." Aizawa tiredly leans in his chair.
"You know I won't, don't you?" he grins, "That's the kid Aizawa gives personal lessons too because the kid's quirk is brain related and– oi, he's not actually Shouta-kun's son."
"Oh?" you'd been moments away from hyperventilating and talk airily, "O-Of course.. I-I mean why would he be.. Shouta-kun's too young to have a kid that old."
"Shouta-kun wouldn't have a kid at all because he would sleep through the wedding." Kayama repeats an OG joke from the childhood and you and Yamada laugh nostalgically.
Aizawa's head lolls back tiredly, "So this is a one-sided bullying session against me?"
"Aw, don't be sad about it, Shouta-kun." you coo, "They say only the prettiest people get bitched about. I'm sure you wouldn't mind."
He turns to you, "What stupid romance novel did you read this in now?"
You blink, "What do you mean romance novel?"
"Considering your life outside fantasy is non existent." he tilts his head, "What was that fiction you would read back in the day? You remember it, Hizashi-kun?"
"Ah.. " his eyebrows raise as your ears glow red, "I'd totally forgotten.. don't remember what it was about, though."
Aizawa's grin returns, "A weird hero with silky black hair saves a girl from death and they fall in– " you cut him off before he can say something more to embarrass you.
Just as fucking oblivious about it now too, aren't you, Shouta-kun.
"You paid a lot of attention to me back then, eh, Shouta-kun." this gives you the responsive pause you need, "You even remember the details of the story. Oh my, you weren't jealous, were you?"
Take that, bitch.
The voice in your head says it in too adoring a way for you to be able to muster any sassy expressions. A soft look adorns your face instead.
Aizawa's expressions have dropped to zero. His ears well hidden under his own hair are radiating heat now, it's obvious by the unusual tint against his pale skin.
"Exposed." Yamada snickered, "Poor boy Shouta."
"Shut up, will you?" the man frowns and drops himself against the chair once more, "Fucking noisy, both of you."
"Oh my," your hand comes to your mouth, "did I just hear sensei swear? How dirty."
"I will kill you." he threatens, head turning away.
"Oh," you say in a dramatized tone, "don't you already?"
Aizawa huffs, his scarves covering his cheeks to hide the tint of pink. Kayama realises she wants to see the same colour on your face.
"First day back and she's already flirting with Shouta-kun." her snicker punches your guts, "How obvious you make your crush on him, (Name)-chan."
The effect is immediate, hot red pumps into your face. You pass her a betrayed look but she and Yamada are too busy grinning at each other to care.
Aizawa doesn't interfere or even choose to take a shot against you at this. He pretends to not have heard this at all.
Your lips curve low, it bothers you that he would not react in any way on hearing something like this.
Even if he is not interested in you, you still do wish to have some or the other sort of response from him whenever you gather the courage to confess to him but this firsthand scenario doesn't bring in much.
The cold look from the teacher's lounge appears in your mind momentarily.
You find the need to take a bathroom break.
.
_______________________________________________
.
It's been some time since you've been teaching at U.A., though it was mostly a behind-the-curtain work schedule.
Nezu has decided to make you an official homeroom teacher the next year which means you get teacher training.
"What are we doing?" you're not very sure about what Yamada is leading you into. Principal Nexu did say there is going to be a new task for you today and that your loud friend would take you to it but it definitely has nothing to do in front of Aizawa's classroom, right?
Yamada barges in, "Yeeaah!" he's just as full of energy as ever, "Good morning my lovely little listeners!"
There is a decently energetic response.
While Aizawa tells him to get out, Yamada makes an annoucement, "I'm going to introduce a new teacher to you all today! She's your sensei's very special friend."
You're not the only one who has facepalmed. Aizawa tiredly begs you to take him away with the look on his face.
The students beat you teachers to making a move, though.
"Are we talking about the new teacher you were standing beside with your head against the window with yesterday?" a girl asks.
"Bingo!" Yamada's hands point to her, "This new teacher is," you're dragged inside with one hand, "(L/n) (Name) sensei! The one person in the world who knows how to bully your sensei!"
Aizawa claps sarcastically, "Wow, what an enlightening introduction."
"You really could have done better, Hizashi-kun." you feel embarrassed to be pulled in front of everyone like this, "That's just.. "
"Whatever it is, out, both of you. Now." Aizawa orders.
You hold back from making a 'hot sensei giving orders' joke about him in front of the kids and choose to focus a little longer on the way his hair hangs around his face.
"Oi, her training session briefing is under your surveillance." Yamada tells him and Aizawa mutters something about wanting to be dead, "Take care of the both of them, you all!" he turns to the students.
They don't immediately understand.
"They could either A, fight and kill each other or B, make out and be kicked out from the– " you grab his arm and throw him out, then instantly turn to the class with a strict look.
"Don't you all dare get any funny ideas."
They all clearly push the gossip for later when they reply with a "yes ma'am".
Aizawa behind you looks like he's about to bang his head to the wall. Clearly, he isn't very eager to see his students get the wrong idea and thereby become a topic of gossip.
You honestly wouldn't step in that pit either.
"I'll only be joining you all for training session today." you have your strict face on, "If you think your sensei is bad, I'm a nightmare." but it just so happens that Aizawa snorts at that spoiling the seriousness behind your words.
When you turn to him, you find him trying to make a straight face through amusement. That, but the students can see because he's turned away from them and is walking towards you.
"Grab your suits and hurry down to training." he tells them, "And you, nightmarish teacher, come behind me."
Your jaw drops, "Are you ridiculing me, Shouta-kun?" of course the kids wouldn't mind some drama from you too, right?
Well Shouta's fault, not mine.
"Yes. I'm surprised your pea sized brain can tell." he walks out of the class leaving you behind but not any chances for you to cause the drama until the students turn to you.
"Good luck, new sensei." one of them says, "Go turn the look in your eyes to words and he'll say yes for sure.. maybe.. "
"Hey, what the hell?" you snap your head towards this blond boy with the black lighting bolt in his hair, "Behave." but he looks too conflicted to pay attention.
"Actually, he's definitely going to reject you." he speaks up a moment later, "B-But that's because Aizawa sensei has zero romance drive, not because you're not cool or something. You're super cute— ah, nevermind."
His face buries in his hands.
You don't understand whether to coo at the kid or just laugh out loud. Aizawa peeks in from the side of the door a moment later and you decide to just escape the odd situation.
Some strict nightmarish teacher you are.
.
_______________________________________________
.
"Oh, you fucking monster." your body is sore, "This was supposed to be training for the kids, not me."
"Right?" Aizawa lazily examines the papers, "It's such a shame you're so out of shape. How good you were back when we were kids."
"Says the guy who always defeated me in the sports festivals." you frown.
"You never even tried to fight." he hums, eyes focused on the training report sheets he made the students write, "Never understood that. I do remember how mercilessly you threw Hizashi out of boundaries."
"Couldn't hurt your pretty face, you know." you shrug, heat rising to your cheeks but you play it cool, "Plus Hizashi was just annoying during sports festivals."
"His quirk is being loud, (Name)-chan." Aizawa's eyes roll over to your for a moment. You find yourself admiring how well he has matured once again, "But that being put aside, how come you're this out of shape?"
I'm not out of shape, Shouta-kun..
"I was distracted by how handsome of a man you've become." you word it in a ridiculing tone but there isn't an inch of your statement that isn't true, "Oh, the jawline, the super pull-able hair and the muscles."
Aizawa rolls his eyes.
"And the eye rolls." this comes out a lot softer and warmer. You've missed his eye rolls for so long now.
"Uh-huh?" Aizawa takes half his pile of papers and gives them to you to check promising lunch if you help him with it, "What, has being single for so long started getting to you?"
An amused giggle leaves your lips, you cuddle into the couch ignoring the papers completely, "People think you're such a nice, serious guy, Shouta-kun. Me and Hizashi know."
"Know what?" his eyes linger at the papers for a little, then on a cut on your ankle.
"That's you're such a dirty little boy." you lean towards him, "Being single has gotten to me? Oh no, babyboy, you've gotten to me."
He makes a face, you immediately dramatize gag at your words to not make him doubt your words to be true.
"You're disgusting." he tells you.
"You're disgusting too. What was the need to toss me around like that in front of the students?" you frown, "I've got cuts and bruises all up my legs."
His eyes rest on the little cut on your ankle again, "Why didn't you go see recovery girl?"
"Recovery grandma?" your eyebrow raises, "She's still here?"
"Oh she is." he drops his pen and leans back into the couch too. Aizawa is tired, he needs his coffee. It's already the time of the day when Hizashi comes in with a cup of coffee for him, Aizawa doesn't understand why he's late today.
"There isn't much that has changed." you hum, head turned up towards him while leaning against the couch, "It's just you and Hizashi."
"We've changed?" his head rolls to you.
"Physically." you say, "Plus Hizashi-kun said he's seeing someone so that has changed.. are you?"
"Am I seeing someone?" Aizawa's eyes blink lazily, irises focused into yours, "The only thing I'm seeing is papers." he pulls his boots off, "So many of them."
"Do you not take breaks?" your eyes focus on the bags under his, finger going up immediately to touch the skin, "I'm worried you'll get too stressed like this and— " you're cut off by him.
"What are you doing?"
You blink, "What?"
"What are you doing? Your hand is on my face, (Name)-chan." there's a pause as he pulls his head away, "That's.. weird."
Your lips tighten, "R-Right.. sorry."
"It's fine.. " tension fills into the air, "Just.. don't do it again."
"Sure.. " your head droops along with your expressions. It's odd hearing this— it could still be him messing around with you but he'd give you an indication then.
You feel dejected, as though he's throwing you off before you even tell him how much you'd wish to drown into him.
Should I.. ?
But how can you indirectly relay your feelings to him just to make sure he doesn't actually with to reject you if you ever do.
It may just be under the tag of friendship, but there is still warmth in Aizawa's eyes when he looks at you. You know to not classify this as just friendship.
"Ah.. " your hands cover your face, "Life is moving forward, no?"
"Obviously." his head rests back.
"I knew you as a young boy, Shouta-kun. You were nineteen when I had to leave." a smile slips up your face like butter, your tone is adoring, "You've become a man now."
"What else do you expect me to become?" he shifts to the side to get better view of you.
You roll your eyes, "You probably feel what I'm talking about too, right? I was just a little girl when you last saw me."
"It just so happens that you've not grown at all." he shrugs, "Not by brains, not by height," his eyes lower from your face for a fraction of a second but Aizawa happens to have the best control over himself, he doesn't let his expressions show this at all, "so, no. I can't tell."
You, on the other hand, are shameless. Mostly.
"If what you want to say is that my boobs and hips have grown, don't be shy, Shouta-kun." you wave your hand at him, "It's not like I don't notice when you stare."
He makes an odd expression again, then turns away.
"That's weird, (Name)-chan. It's not right, don't say stuff like that."
You blink, "Not right?"
He shifts uncomfortably, gaze flickering in the air before he gets up and walks away muttering something about you stepping over boundaries.
You frown, instantly getting up and following after him.
"What's weird, Shouta-kun? What boundaries am I stepping? Let me know at least."
He doesn't stop, neither does he reply. When you don't stop following him, Aizawa just walks into the men's bathroom.
"Bitch." you cuss under your breath, eyes getting glassier for some reason. It's odd to see such behaviour from his side.
It's already been some time since the both of you have been spending breaks together, it's a coincidentally convenient schedule.
Every single time, however, there is either one or another moment where something odd crosses over Aizawa and he wouldn't talk to you anymore.
You hate it when he does this.
You hate him not talking to you and treating you like you're just any friend.
"Oh, (L/n)-san?" Toshinori Yagi steps out of the bathroom, "How come you're standing in front of the men's bathroom?" he chuckles, "Am I getting fangirling for going to the bathroom this time?"
"O-Oh.. nevermind." you're not in right headspace to pay heed to what he has just said, "Wait.. actually, please just drag Shouta-san out, sir."
He blinks, "What?"
There's only one way to end the whirlpool of anxiety in your guts.
"Just.. please drag him out of the bathroom. He's only waiting for me to leave, I'm sure."
All Might blinks but doesn't say anything as he turns and reenters the space restricted from you.
Luckily, he manages to succeed. A tired looking Aizawa steps out and sighs, "What?"
Your eyebrows twitch in annoyance, "What do you mean what, Shouta-kun? You— come with me." you grab his arm and drag him away into the pantry of the teachers' lounge.
"What do you want, (Name)-chan?" he wouldn't look at you now.
"I want to tell you you're a bitch." you huff, "A-And.. " your lips press tight, "I.. w-want to tell you.. "
"Hurry up, I have papers to check." he's clearly looking for excuses to avoid you but you don't intend to let him get his way.
"Shouta-kun.. I.. " it's so much harder than you thought it would be, you feel like crying.
Oh fuck, just let it out.
"I just.. I've always.. " a shaky breath leaves your lips, eyes closing to avoid your eyes from popping out with how fast your heart beats, "I love you."
Absolute silence follows.
When you can't take it anymore, you shoot your eyes open only to find a look of conflict and frustration on Aizawa's face. It's spontaneous– something stops in your chest and a loud ringing fills your ears.
"You.. shouldn't have said that." Aizawa's words are the only that make way to your ears though the buzz, "That's not good. It's– we're not doing this, (Name)-chan. You.. shouldn't be doing this."
Your lips shut tight, throat too dried up to speak all of a sudden.
Aizawa inhales, his face turning away and voice low and heavy, "I don't feel the same, (Name)-chan. It's concerning you feel this way.. it's hilarious of an idea in the first place."
His words act as daggers stabbing your heart.
"And.. I don't think.. I mean, of course you know I wouldn't fall for a person like you even in my nightmares." a hollow, dry chuckle escapes his lips before his head drops to the floor with his lips pressed in a thin line.
The worse they can say is no?
A voice inside you laughs at your stupid self.
" ..Right.. " your voice barely makes it out. The tear rolling down your cheek beats it, " ..Uhm.. I-I'm just gonna go.. " your feet drag you away silently.
It's hard to walk through the teachers' lounge without breathing at all. The moment you've stepped out into the empty hallways, a deep, broken exhale brings down streams of tears.
Your legs beg to give out, chest throbbing painfully making ripples of stress travel throughout your body.
Somewhere to your side, Yamada's voice calls out to you. The next moment you know, you're running out of the school building towards the teachers' dorms.
.
"How long is he going to take today?" Shinsou's feet tap against the ground, "Sensei's here around this timegenerally."
Yamada hums, his gaze focused on the ground, "You know.. I think there might be some connection to (Name)-chan and Shouta-kun's spoilt mood recently."
Shinsou blinks, "I'm not going to act like you saying that should mean anything other than them being on bad romantic terms considering there is no other sensible interpretation to your words."
The hero nods, "Yup."
"What?"
"A few days ago, I saw her running away after crying outside the teachers' lounge. I chased after her and talked but she didn't say much. Shouta-kun was gloomy that day."
"What did he say?" Shinsou throws his mask to the side and hurries to sit in front of Yamada, "You did try to talk to him, right?"
Yamada shrugs, "He wouldn't talk. Quietly walked away. He hasn't been talking much to anyone since then."
"He wouldn't even say much in class." Shinsou's head falls to his lap, "What do you think could have happened?"
Yamada turns to the side, "I know them enough to say this, I'm sure either one confessed or proposed and the other said no."
"But Aizawa sensei– (L/n)-sensei was crying, you say?"
"Yeah." the man sighs, "Two of my best friends getting off with each other. What am I supposed to do?" the both of them share looks for a moment.
Shinsou nods, catching the signal Yamada has been trying to give him all this while, "You're right, what are you supposed to do?"
It takes a couple of days to set everything up but he manages to "coincidentally" make Aizawa and you end up together for dinner with Yamada.
Neither of the two of you are happy with this, it doesn't take a genius to figure that out.
"Sit, you both." Yamada knows you both are hiding whatever happened from him so wouldn't refuse now that you both are already only so he wouldn't know.
"So you planned dinner?" your voice lacks any emotion at all, it is hollow and low, and is addressed only to Yamada as if sarcastically commenting on his decision.
"I did." he smiles, "Hope the both of you don't mind. I realised we need to have a talk over something."
Neither you nor Aizawa look up. Over a week of avoiding him does nothing at all to ease the pain, and you don't wish to increase the weight in your chest by catching sight of his unaffected expressions.
Yamada doesn't speak up for some time, he allows the tension in the air settle to the ground until there is more of pain, guilt and longing at the table than suffocation.
"We met first in the sports festival of the first year." he begins once the waitress has left. He's hesitant to bring this up but there's no other way, "Shirakumo-kun was against (Name)-chan. She lost but was introduced into class A and shifted from class B."
"Yeah.. w-we know the story.. " you look to the side, eyes glassy and fingers fiddling with each other.
Clearly, you're not in the mood to get nostalgic.
"It was funny to see you fall for Shouta-kun while Shirakumo-kun flirted with you all day long." Yamada lets out a chuckle as Aizawa's head snaps up at you.
You, on the other hand, widen your eyes at him in shock– you'd never expected him to bring this topic up. It feels like betrayal.
Yamada inhales, then exhales deep, "Shirakumo-kun had a crush on you, you know."
"What?"
"Yeah.. " he gives you a small smile, "He did, but he noticed your feelings for Shouta-kun and then his behaviour changed. You remember when– "
___________ May, Second year at U.A. High ___________
"Hey Shouta," Shirakumo says, "It's just ice cream. Stop licking it as if it's Yamada's popsickle."
You begin giggling, drawing attention to yourself. Aizawa feels his lips twitch into a small smile, he loves it when you laugh though this isn't something he wishes you find amusing.
He composes himself immediately and turns to Shirakumo with a frown, "Don't open your dirty mouth like that in front of a girl at least. Have some shame, Shiro." but he is ignored.
"(Name)! (Name)!" Shirakumo is busy coming up with more nonsense, "Okay, I got an idea." the rest of you turn to him, while still licking all your ice creams.
"How about you give us some advice?"
"What sort of advice?" you ask and he smirks.
"We're all poor little dreaming boys who all definitely have some or the other crush on some or the other cute friends of ours, don't we, Shouta-kun?" the boy in questions freezes, "Why don't you rate us.. or give us an overview from a girls' angle? If we're in luck, it might help some oblivious idiot see through".
"That's random." you hum, "But," there is a pause, "I'll say.. Hizashi-kun is bright, awlways optimistic and loud one. You're gonna be probably.. well, charismatic, energetic and you know what, there's some girls in our class who call you husband material."
"They do?" Shirakumo is pleased, "Did you hear that, guys?"
"Go on, bitch some more about your friends, (Name)-chan." Aizawa rolls his eyes at Shirakumo's smug expression, "You're snitching on them."
"Sometimes you should take that stick up your ass out and try some fingers." you close your eyes and give Aizawa a firm nod. Shirakumo and Yamada burst out laughing.
"What about Shouta-kun, though?" Shirakumo elbows the boy and turns back to you when his laughs dies down to chuckles.
You hum, "To me, he's like.. the definition of manliness. If testosterone is something, it's him. You know what, it's not my choice at all– Shouta-kun in general looks like a sexy tsundere guy who the girl would call daddy or something, you get what I mean?"
"Boy boy, someone's all red." Shirakumo laughs at Aizawa who just grunts and looks away. You don't have the confidence to look towards his face after all you've said either.
"He'll get lots of options for wives.. only if he didn't doze of mid-wedding." you crack the OG joke and everyone other that Aizawa snorts.
"Ay, don't be too rough with him (Name)-chan." Shirakumo exaggerates scolding you, "Our sweet sugar daddy is blushing. He might just burst if you keep this up."
Aizawa turns to him instantly and mutters a "what the fuck?" under his breath.
But Shirakumo isn't the only cheeky bitch in the group.
"Come on, sweet daddy.. " you exaggerate a coo, "Don't get mad. I'm scared you'll be too rough." and as you do, you realise Shirakumo isn't lying when he says Aizawa might burst.
His ears are steaming, cheeks blood red already. You doubt he'd be able to take another tease.
"Little kitten's blushing." Shirakumo laughs, "If I were gay, I'd be totally into him. It's too sad I'm not a single girl among us four who can crush on him."
Shirakumo gets a glare from you, you're thankful Aizawa hasn't heard him well.
___________ - ___________
"Why would you suddenly bring that up today?" Aizawa understand your behaviour from back then now only now that he has been confessed to, "Things of the past should stay in the past."
"Misunderstandings of the past should stay in the past too." Yamada looks up, "Shirakumo realised (Name)-chan's interest in you too early on. He liked it, actually. He always thought you were perfect for her and the other way around."
Aizawa's expressions drop to zero at the revelation.
"Actually.. " Yamada clears his throat, "He'd always known you push your feelings for (Name)-chan down because of his crush on her."
Your head snaps up at what you've heard.
..Shouta-kun had feelings for me back then.. ?
"He'd been trying to set the both of you up for over an year already before he.. died." silence spreads at the table, "You don't need to reject your feelings for (Name)-chan anymore, Shouta-kun."
Aizawa stares hard at the table, you look between him and Yamada. Nothing seems to set properly in your brain, you don't know what's going on.
"You don't need to reject her in loyalty to our dead friend. He didn't die loving her, he died hoping the both of you would give each other a chance.. "
Aizawa doesn't know what to say, his lips part to speak but no voice leaves.
"She's not his, dude. Don't label her like that.. just.. free yourself from this burden. Shirakumo-kun didn't die loving her."
Silence prevails at the table for far too long. Yamada looks uncomfortable with this silence. He keeps on looking between your and Aizawa's fallen faces.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Aizawa's voice is so low it barely feels the words have left his mouth.
Yamada sighs, "I thought you knew.. " he waits for a little more time before getting up with an "enjoy dinner, you two. Talk it out." and leaves.
Neither you not Aizawa says anything for even longer– you're losing your patience now. Tears build up in your eyes.
You do understand that he needs time to digest the revelation as much as you do but the past week of heartache has barely left anything for you to stay silent with.
The only desire you have is to know how he feels about you now. That, but you don't know how you'll ever talk to him again after all he has said.
Aizawa looks up a moment later, his eyes unusually and surprisingly glassy, "I'm sorry.. " he begins, " ..for everything."
And though you did not think this could ease any of your pain, you find yourself crying into your hands a moment later. This time, he's there to calm you.
#mha#bnha#aizawa shouta#aizawa fanfiction#shouta aizawa#aizawa x reader#present mic#eraserhead#aizawa shota x reader#aizawa#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou x reader#aizawa headcanons#aizawa x y/n#my hero academia#shirakumo oboro#dabi#hawks#aizawa smut#oneshot#todoroki#aizawa oneshot#bakugou katsuki#shigaraki tomura#manga#tokoyami fukimage#kirishima#aizawa shōta#mha aizawa#bnha aizawa
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When Jake Met Polly
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
Warnings: Not much, fluff, flirting and refs to sex.
Note: This is just a short little idea i've had for agesss... reader has a 'name' but it's just her callsign, Polly, as in, short for Polaris. Ty to @hangmanssunnies i wuv u <3
“Hangman to Tower, I am coming in hot.”
You roll your eyes at the all too familiar voice that crackles through your radio, a smile pulling at your lips as you adjust your microphone and briefly throw a glance over your shoulder, just to make sure your commanding officer wasn’t lingering.
“Tower to Hangman. We are appalled at the gross lack of radio etiquette on display,” you respond. Barely a few seconds pass before you receive a reply.
“Come on, Polly, we've been working together for over a year now, what’s a little informality between colleagues?” Hangman says, and despite his jet only being a blip on your horizon still, you know he’s grinning.
“A commercial airline, Lieutenant.” You deadpan, your own smile growing as his laughter comes down the line. “You are cleared for landing, proceed to runway B,” you continue, not wanting him to have to ask again seeing as his approach was cutting it close already.
“Polly, have I ever told you that you’re my favourite Controller?” He asks as you watch him enter the pattern, and click your pen.
“Only every day we work together, Lieutenant.” There’s a beat of quiet as he expertly manoeuvres his jet toward the correct runway.
“And how sexy your voice is?” He goes on, sounding vaguely distracted.
“Once again, Lieutenant, this is not a commercial airline.” You respond, twirling your hair around your finger at his compliment anyway.
He doesn’t reply, and a shock of horror flickers through you as you watch the jet touch down once, something happening with his landing gear that makes the jet shudder, then seem to bounce momentarily before it drops back onto the tarmac and skids to a stop.
“Hangman, do you require the emergency crew?!” You ask quickly, eyes scanning the aircraft as it powers down fully. You wait tensely as the canopy pops up, and a broad figure jumps out, scrambling down the ladder, and once on the ground, he bends low to get a look at the problem.
“No, Polly, thank you. Seems the landing gear malfunctioned, must’ve been in a position to sustain damage once I landed…” his voice trails off, and you watch him straighten, and greet the ground crew who’d raced over to help.
“Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant. Tower out.” You say as he begins discussing with the crew, but briefly turns up toward the tower and raises a hand.
You let out a sigh of relief and settle back in your seat.
–
Around lunch time you make your way down to the tarmac. Hangman’s jet had been cleared off some time ago, and by now you know reports would have been filed, including your own, and his aircraft will have been taken in for inspection and repairs. You’re milling around the ‘crash’ site, inspecting the scrape marks left behind when you hear footsteps from behind approaching you.
“Can I help you ma’am?”
You know his voice immediately, but you know his face too, and when you at last turn back to him you’re graced by the sight of it, bright and unworried, despite the accident he’d had earlier.
“Oh, don’t mind me! I just watched someone bounce their jet off my tarmac earlier, just checking for potholes,” you tell him wrly. It takes a moment, but his face flashes with recognition and soon he’s taking a step towards you.
“Polly?!” Hangman asks, sounding surprised. You hum in response, then round on him.
“Where is it that you found your qualifications, Liuetenant? We should probably return them,” you tease him. Hangman only takes up a stance and stretches his arms out, his flight suit stretching desperately around his biceps as he does.
“Oh, Polly, if I’d known that was all it took to get you down here, I’d have started chipping bits off months ago,” he flirts shamelessly. You smile at him but don’t speak and after a moment, he drops his arms again, crossing them over his chest instead and blinking at you curiously. “What?” he asks.
Your smile grows, and you shake your head at him.
“Your terrible lines work better when I can see you, that's all,” you inform him, making him uncross his arms and laugh.
“I would say that’s generally the case, even if a guy ain’t me,” he replies coolly. You only shake your head again, and look back out at the expanse of tarmac ahead of you.
“Thanks to you getting your pilots lisence off the back of a cereal box, we’ve ruined our Sleepless in Seattle thing,” you say with a forlorn sigh.
When you look back at Hangman he’s frowning at you in confusion.
“Our what?” he asks. You roll your eyes and turn to face him fully at last, waving your hand as you speak.
“You know, our Sleepless in Seattle thing. We talk all this time, but never meet, and if we cross paths, we don’t realise it? It’s ruined now,” you accuse him lightly. Hangman hums, and seems to think for a moment.
“I get to be Meg Ryan in this situation, right?” he says, making you chortle.
“Well you’d have to be. No way I’d leave 90s Bill Pullman!”
“Well, what if we’re not Sleepless in Seattle? What if we’re more… When Harry Met Sally?” he suggests. You squint at him.
“Have you seen that film? I’m not sure that’s the implication you want to go for…” you ask him, making him falter for a moment.
“That’s the one with the emails right?” he responds unsurely. You laugh again, and shake your head.
“No, that’s You’ve Got Mail.”
“What the hell did I just suggest, then?”
You stare at him for a moment, and can’t stop yourself from grinning up at him.
“More or less not speaking for like ten years, but on the rare occasion we do meet up, we argue,” you tell him, watching him frown even deeper, and shake his own head this time.
“That would be kinda hard, considering you’re the voice in my head,” he says.
“Oh, so we’re doing Her now!”
Hangman fixes you with a deadpan expression and a slightly smirk.
“I don’t even want to know.”
You laugh at him, and begin walking, unsurprised when he immediately joins you, falling into step at your side. “So,” he begins again after a moment, peering down at you. “Despite playing hacky sack on your tarmac, you still gonna let me take you out?”
You falter briefly, but keep walking, this time glancing up at him.
“I didn’t think you were being serious all those times you asked me out,” you don’t bother hiding your surprise. Hangman looks back at you, squinting, and cocks his head.
“At this point I think you’ve shot me down more than Dagger combined, why would I not be serious?” he asks you, sounding oddly serious. You chuckle.
“Right, so, say if, I don’t know, Rooster got a few more hits on you, you wouldn’t leave me hangin’ would you?” you know you’ll say yes, but you can’t help but tease him a little longer.
Hangman raises an eyebrow at you and grins wide and beautiful.
“You? Never,” he says. “Mostly because I’m legally obligated to respond when you speak to me.”
You lift your own eyebrow and fix him with a wry smile.
“I like that in a man.”
Hangman laughs.
–
“I mean it, your voice is sexy,” Jake tells you once he’s sat back down from replacing your drinks. You can’t help but chortle and stir your cocktail with the straw.
“Really? Me telling you to line up and wait in the pattern gets you going?” you ask. Jake grins, but nods very seriously as he takes a short sip of his beer.
“Absolutely. I also like when you tell me about the weather and conditions, and direct me to land.”
Leaning forward with your elbows on the table between you, you put your chin in your hands.
“I liek when you flirt with me,” you begin, waiting for him to smirk at you before continuing on. “And you don’t realise my boss is in the room, so I just have to respond ‘roger’ and ‘acknowledged’ whenever you say something stupid,” you finish. Jake rolls his eyes and leans forward to meet you.
“To be fair, I’d probably be saying something stupid anyway,” he tells you.
You have to let out a laugh at that and finally lean back again.
“Oh yeah, that reminds me, are you ever gonna tell us all how to ‘bury a fossil’? You know, those things that you famously dig up and do not bury?” you tease, earning another eyeroll. Jake shrugs and copies your movements.
“I foretold Mav’s career comeback, didn’t I?”
You laugh again, but this time, get a good look at him sitting casually across from you, out of uniform and seemingly more relaxed than you’ve ever seen, or heard.
“I like your voice too,” you tell him at last, smiling a little at how he seems to preen at your praise. “Your accent is more pronounced face-to-face though, and you don’t sound like you’re performing all the time.”
Jake takes a sip of his beer and shrugs again.
“Can’t be Hangman all the time,” he says. You make a face.
“I like Hangman. He entertains me at work… but I think I like the guy who hasn’t seen When Harry Met Sally, and has a Fisher-Price pilot's lisence even more.”
Jake laughs and nods at you.
“Splash one,” he says before he leans in to you again. “Toddler’s generally have pretty good taste, in my opinion, they’re all about shapes and colours and boobs… can’t fault ‘em!”
You have to laugh and concede that at least, the two of you clinking drinks before you continue to flirt and chat for the rest of the evening.
When Jake drops you back at yours, you invite him inside, under the guise of lending him your DVD copy of When Harry Met Sally, but when he simply lingers in your living room, you start to consider other tactics.
“Jake?” you say, standing up from ‘searching’ your stack of DVD’s and facing him. “This is the part where you save me from admitting I don’t really own a physical copy of the film by having sex with me,” you inform him dutifully, watching as he straightens up and blinks at you. Then, he’s shaking his head, smiling, and taking a step closer toward you.
“I guess every good rom-com does have an earth shattering lie at its core, doesn’t it?” he steps closer, and this time, anchors his hands at your waist, tugging you into him a little more.
“Let's skip the conflict part and go straight to the happy ending, shall we?”
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin#hangman x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun maverick#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic#jake hangman seresin#top gun fanfiction
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too soon to tell you I love you!
Ewan Mitchell x f!reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e86fa2b760a351c3ad3550413d3b0de6/aec9afc2a8d5da4d-b6/s540x810/7d41837c1ee71808cf62bc2d16e16c0616ed10d3.jpg)
a/n: another random Ewan oneshot, as a result of @seamaiden indulging my delusions 💛
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It's not often that you bump into one of your favourite actors at the pub... or he bumps into you.
It is just another night out on the town, and your mates managed to convince you to have a couple of drinks out in Covent Garden.
There's a really good pub you haven't been to apparently, but you know your friends, and they would think a pub is stellar as long as there is free-flowing alcohol inside.
It's a pub, you typed in the group chat, what could be so special about it? I kinda want to stay in tonight.
It will be special cos we'll be in it, one of them replied.
And that was the end of it. No room for negotiation when a night out is involved, but you adore your close-knit band of rascals, so you're hardly fazed.
The three of you are snug in a booth, the first round of drinks already imbibed and wreaking havok in your livers.
"Another round, guys, c'mon," Paul says, slamming his hands down on the wooden table, ever the charming instigator.
"You want another, you be the one to fetch it," Gracie smirked, wagging a finger at him.
"But I got this one! Lay off me, mate. It's someone else's turn now, that's how the system is, let's be civil about this—"
"Oh my god," you cut him off with a teasing laugh, "you really will say anything to get out of getting another round, won't you?" You share a conspiratorial wink with Gracie.
Paul gapes like a blubbering fish. "Hey! But I got the first round—"
"Alright, alright, drama queen," you stand from your seat, patting his shoulder in a mock comforting manner, "I'll cover this round."
"Huzzah! I love you!"
You roll your eyes fondly. "Oh, get a grip. I'll be right back."
It's a Friday night, so traversing the cramped confines of the pub feels like walking into a battefield. You have to shimmy past patrons filing in and out, those standing around tables like flocks of flamingo instead of sitting as they should, lads too focused on the match on the telly to notice when you first mutter excuse me, pardon me.
Then someone, much to your increased annoyance, bumps right into you from behind. You're thrown off kilter when you feel an elbow shoved in between your shoulder blades, making you step on your own damn foot.
You turn sharply. "Hey, watch it—"
"I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"
"I... I..."
"Are you okay?" he asks. His sharp, angular face and intense, piercing gaze make him instantly recognizable. He has that quietly powerful presence, standing a bit taller than you expected, with striking cheekbones and the slightest smirk playing at his lips, framed by the littlest bit of dirty blonde scruff.
"Here, come on." He gently tugs at your arm, his other hand occupied with a full pint. You let him pull you away from the warm, inebriated bodies and into a more secluded corner to the side of the main bar. "Much better, eh? Sorry, I didn't think you could hear me back there. Pub's proper packed tonight, innit? But... yeah, I'm sorry for bumping into you like that."
"It's... not a problem."
"Really?"
You nod, forcing a smile, your throat so constricted you can barely form a coherent sentence.
"Well... I, uh... how about I make it up to you anyway, huh? I could get you a drink? And your mates too if they're around?"
"Yeah, they're..." You raise a hand and wave at your table, but they're already keenly watching you, intrigued looks on their faces. You'll never hear the end of this later. Or ever.
"Is that them?" He waves politely, smiling in amusement. He knows that they recognise him, and how could he not, when they're practically gaping in his direction.
And finally— "Oh, uhm, I'm... Ewan, by the way." You shake his extended hand, introducing yourself in turn.
"Nice to meet you," you croak, "and... uhhh... I actually—"
There's a spark in his eye, and either it's the ambient lighting or his cheeks turn flushed. "Do you watch the show?"
"Yes. I'm a huge fan of yours..." you exhale in relief, a weight off your shoulders as if some secret is finally revealed, but then you hear your words again. "...and the show! I mean, I love the show—"
"Thank you," he grins, saving you from blabbering on too much. He leans forward and nudges your upper arm in a friendly gesture. "Thank you so much, really. I'm glad to hear it."
"So can I ask what's it like to film—"
"You here with just mates or a boyf—"
"Oh, you go ahead," you quickly say, but he blurts out, "Sorry, what did you say?" at the same time. Again.
Just two cluckering hens unable to speak to each other.
Feeling your composure returning, you hold a finger up, telling him to listen for a moment. He laughs softly at your faux stern expression, and the sound is so warm and genuine that your attempted seriousness melts away instantly. You could so get used to that.
"I just wanted to ask, and I hope you don't mind, what is it like to film the show? To be Aemond?"
"Oh, it's an absolute dream," he starts, turning his gaze away for a brief moment as one does when they're tapping into a memory. His blue eyes are cast in another direction, and you're grateful for the momentary reprieve. You catch yourself letting out a shaky breath, no longer arrested by those magnetic orbs of his. But only a few seconds pass before you already miss gazing into them.
You get a hold of your thoughts, and tune in to his words as he continues, "Aemond has become very dear to me... Well, he's definitely a part of me now! And the cast is just the best group of people to work with and I couldn't be more grateful so... Who's your, uhh, favourite character then?"
"Well," you shrug, "you could say he's standing right in front of me!"
"Oh really? And why Aemond?" He places his pint down on the bar and takes a step closer, leaning against the varnished mahogany ever so casually. You have half a mind to chug his pint in order to deal with the intensity of simply being this close to him.
What can you say? Because he's the most beautiful boy you've ever seen? Because he's your tortured little war criminal who is precious and can do no wrong? Because you want to be his ladywife and consumm...
You decide none of those are usable.
So you jump into a brief explanation of how Aemond is a compelling character, a mix of ambition and vulnerability, constantly at odds with others and even himself.
All the while, Ewan stares at you intently. All the while, you pray that your heart won't stop.
When you finish, the smile that is already present on his lips stretches even wider. "You're not just saying that because I'm here, are you? Like, you wouldn't say Criston is your favourite if it were Fabien you bumped into tonight?"
You give a sardonic nod, a slight smirk playing at your lips. "Sure, Ewan. I can easily reuse everything I've said and apply it to Criston Cole. Is Fabien with you? Maybe he can bump into me, and we can start the whole thing all over again."
"No way," he says smoothly, "you're mine."
Your prayers didn't work. Your heart stopped.
He clears his throat, ears reddening. "I mean, you're on team Aemond, come on now. You must prefer him over Cole."
"Well, I do."
"So there, you are mine," he cheekily repeats. Shy then brazen. Embarrassed then flirty.
Just who is this man? You've seen dozens of interviews, heard many a tale of fan encounters, but with every passing second, you feel as if you're discovering someone new altogether.
And it's the type of exciting that stirs you at your core.
"Sorry, am I keeping you from company? I don't want to monopolise— "
He hurriedly shuts that down. "No, no, it's okay. I'm just here with my brother and..." A group of lads erupts in cheers at a goal. "...girlfriend."
"Oh," you mumble. Your heart did start working again, only to clench uncomfortably in your chest. "Well, you should get back to your girlfriend. It was really nice to meet—"
"Wait, hold on," he pleads, reaching for your hand to stop you from turning away, "Not my girlfriend. My brother's. I'm kind of third wheeling them actually. But he's only in London until tomorrow so he wanted to meet me anyway."
"Oh. Okay—"
"I don't... I don't have a girlfriend."
"Uhm, okay," you offer a small smile, unable to deny that his statement gave you some ease.
For no particular reason.
It dawns on you that his larger, rougher hand is still caging yours. When you finally lift your eyes to meet his, a gentle smile plays at his lips, his gaze unwavering.
He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone meant only for you. "Listen, could I—"
Something flutters in your peripheral vision, distracting you, albeit you thought it impossible to have your attention diverted if you would ever meet Ewan.
But it was. You turn to see Paul waving an arm frantically at you, likely having waited far too long for his precious pint. Gracie, bless her, tries to get him to simmer down, reaching across the table to slap his arm. Her hand comes into contact with his skin, resulting in a smack loud enough to reach you across the pub.
"Ow!" Paul yelps.
"Leave her alone, mate!" Gracie snaps.
You can't help but laugh at their antics. When you turn to Ewan again, you lose track of what you were going to say, as he's watching you with an unexpected softness, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
"So..."
"Hmm?" How Aemond of him.
"I think I should do my duty and fetch those guys a round," you sigh, jutting a thumb at your table.
"Oh, I'll get it," he quickly offers. "Don't worry about it, darling."
"Are you sure? I really can—"
"Wait here," he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear that a shiver ripples through you, goosebumps prickling along your skin in response.
You watch as he effortlessly navigates the line, his steady confidence drawing your attention as he orders three pints when it's his turn. You can't help but wonder how no one else has recognized him yet. Luck must be on his side, the footy match on the screens rendering everyone oblivious to the presence of a celebrity in their midst.
Their loss, your gain.
The aforementioned celebrity gestures to you with a tilt of his head, and you weave through the crowd idling by the bar to reach him.
"Here, hold this for me, darling," he says, handing you his own half-empty pint. He balances a full tray with both hands, heading to your table, where Paul has most likely turned into a dry husk.
"Thank you for buying a round!" Gracie exclaims, bouncing slightly in her seat. "You are Ewan from House of the Dragon, right?"
Ewan smiles, shirking slightly under the attention. "Yeah, and hey, I'm just doing my part," he replies with a friendly shrug.
As they gush about House of the Dragon, you try your hardest to disappear into your chair, feeling your cheeks heat. Paul, however—of course—has other plans.
"So, Ewan, you have to know that my friend here—" He gestures dramatically toward you. "—has the biggest crush on Aemond. I'm talking full-on obsession, really.”
"Oh my god, Paul!" you groan, burying your face in your hands, mortified. "Why would you say that?"
Ewan chuckles, and you peer at him to find him leaning back, a smug yet handsome look on his face. "An obsession, you say?" he teases, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
You shake your head, laughing despite your embarrassment. "Okay, okay, that's a severe exaggeration."
Ewan says with a grin, looking between you and your friends. "I'll have to be on my best behavior, then, won’t I?"
"Oh, absolutely," Gracie replies. "If you mess this up, you'll ruin Aemond for her forever!"
Ewan raises his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "No pressure, then! But, I hope you don't mind if I steal her away for a while," he says, turning his gaze back to you, his tone softening. "I'd really like to sit and talk to her more."
Alys Rivers has got nothing on you.
"What about your brother?" you ask.
"Oh, I see him all the time," he says, all nonchalant, standing from the booth and offering his hand for you to take.
"Are you sure? I don't—"
"Oh my god, just go with him, mate! You know you want to," Paul groans loudly, then he throws Ewan a wink, adding, "You two would look so cute together, you know?"
You're about to chastise him for yet another pert remark, when Ewan replies, "Oh, yeah, I know."
As the night wears on, he recounts behind-the-scenes stories from filming, your shared laughter echoing in the back area of the pub. You lean in, captivated by the way he animatedly gestures, and by the absurd fact that you're casually talking to Ewan Mitchell.
Your Tumblr moots are going to have an absolute field day with this if they found out.
"You wouldn’t believe how many takes it took me to get that scene right with Vhagar," he says, shaking his head.
You can't help but laugh, picturing the scene. He watches you with a look that sends your poor heart fluttering.
The pub has just announced last call when he places his hand atop yours on the table. "Listen, darling... can I ask for your number? I would really love to see you again sometime."
Does he even have to ask?
"Uh, yeah, of course!" When you hand him his phone back, his fingers brush against yours, purposefully lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
"Brilliant," he says, glancing up at you with that charming smile. "I'll text you right now so you know it's really me."
True to his word, it doesn't take long before your phone buzzes in your pocket. You're met with a notification that an unknown number sent you a message—
Hey, beautiful. How about you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night? – your obsession, apparently
Your head shoots up, and you lock eyes with Ewan, who is already laughing to himself.
"Ewan! Are you kidding me?" you exclaim, but surrendering to the humour of the whole thing, laughing with him.
"Please say yes, darling?" he tilts his head, pouting adorably, drawing nearer to you.
Yes. Of course. Most certainly.
"Well... since I'm obsessed with you, I guess you already know my answer."
#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader
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MY PERSONAL STYLIST | y.jw
kinktober day 2! back to the masterlist here!
☆ stylist!jungwon x model!reader
; jungwon always finds the most fashionable pieces of clothing for you to try out, but when one day he decides to wrap you up in his own hands, well that becomes your new favourite fit.
genre ; smut
taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma
“i don’t think that fits well,” you complained loudly, without any sort of shyness. “i want something that screams that girl, you know? something to turn heads when i walk by, something that no one else has”
what a hard life, indeed. you pouted while laying down on the leathered sofa, throwing away the last piece of dress you’ve tried on. unhappy, disappointed and frustrated. these were 3 amazing words to describe the exact way you were feeling. it did, although, make sense, as the [brand name] fashion week was approaching by and all you could do was pray you will find something unique before that.
on the other side, jungwon snorted at your gesture and picked up the delicate dress from the floor, making sure to get rid of any dirt before putting it back on the hanger. it’s been nothing less than 6h since all the wardrobes in the building were emptied out for you to try every single item, but your expectations were somehow higher than the 24th floor you were on.
“look, giving their most recent collection, i believe we need to definitely include denim. it’s basically their signature, we couldn’t not take advantage out of it” the stylist explained in his simplicity while closing the doors of the closet. “what about a denim skirt? that’s both stylish and comfy; although going for a sleeveless denim top would be just as great”
you nodded, having a look around you. there were now low chances to try something new on as you were more than 99% sure you put on everything already. "i shouldn't be doing this," jungwon mumbled under his breath, casting a quick glance over his shoulder as if someone might walk in at any second. your interest piqued immediately, sitting up straighter on the sofa, eyes glued to his every movement. he turned his back to you, walking towards a wardrobe that had a small lock to it. he effortlessly took the keys out from his pants' pocket, following to unlock the mysterious closet.
the soft clink of the lock turning was like music to your ears—something forbidden, exclusive. jungwon swung the door open with a sense of purpose, pulling out a garment that instantly caught the light. a smile tugged at his lips as he walked over, holding up a stunning denim corset.
"now this—this is what you've been waiting for," he said, carefully laying the piece across his arm like a treasure. it wasn’t just any denim. it had the perfect balance of structure and softness, the kind of piece that would mold to your body, hugging your curves in all the right places. the corset was minimal in design but bold in impact, with sharp seams and an impeccable cut that made it scream sophistication. there were no buttons or zippers, just a sleek back, held together by what looked like a barely noticeable magnetic closure.
"oh my god, jungwon," you gasped, practically leaping off the couch to inspect it closer. your fingers itched to touch the fabric, running across the smooth denim that was far softer than you’d expected. "this is perfect. no, more than perfect. this is exactly what i was talking about." he chuckled at your excitement but quickly added, "there’s just one little thing... it’s not out yet."
your head snapped up, eyes wide in disbelief. "wait, what? this is from the new collection?" jungwon nodded, grinning but looking a bit mischievous. "yeah, technically, it’s part of an unreleased line. i’m not supposed to show it to anyone just yet." you blinked at him, utterly floored. "but... you’re showing it to me?"
he shrugged, smirking like this was all part of some grand conspiracy. "i figured, if you’re just wearing it for the fashion week—after the official release—then we can make an exception, right? besides, this is the piece. the one no one else will have."
you could barely contain your excitement. "oh my god, yes! no one else is going to have anything like this!" you practically snatched the corset from his hands, already picturing how it would look paired with just about anything. the versatility of it was unreal—denim, but with an edge that made it feel couture.
“try it on,” he urged, standing back to give you space.
with a grin, you quickly shed your current outfit, slipping into the corset like it was meant for you. as jungwon helped close the back, the magnetic closure clicked seamlessly, feeling almost like magic—no fuss, just an instant fit. you turned to the mirror, barely recognizing yourself in the best way possible. the corset cinched your waist, accentuating your figure in ways that made you feel like a walking masterpiece. your reflection practically screamed that girl, exactly as you had wanted.
“how does it feel?” jungwon asked, watching your reaction closely.
“it feels…” you twirled, taking in every angle. “it feels like i’m going to break every neck at fashion week.”
jungwon smiled, a mix of pride and amusement. "good. that’s what we’re going for."
you couldn’t take your eyes off the mirror, completely mesmerized by your own reflection. the denim corset hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating every curve. the sharp lines of the piece sculpted your silhouette, making you feel powerful, like you were already walking down the runway at fashion week. a smile tugged at your lips, growing wider with every second you spent admiring yourself. you had to admit, jungwon had completely outdone himself with this.
but as you stood there, swimming in the confidence the corset gave you, you found yourself subtly adjusting it. your hands instinctively moved to your chest, pulling the corset up a little each time. it fit your waist perfectly, but around your chest, it felt like it was slipping ever so slightly, not quite sitting the way you wanted it to.
jungwon, who had been silently watching from behind, couldn’t help but admire the way the corset shaped you. the way the denim cupped your waist, accentuating your figure—it was flawless. his gaze trailed over your body, lingering on the soft curve of your hips and the way the fabric contoured to your form. his breath hitched as his eyes moved upward, taking in the way your cleavage was framed by the low-cut neckline. it wasn’t just the fit; it was the way the corset transformed you into something almost untouchable.
"wow," he muttered, voice low, almost like he was speaking more to himself than to you.
you caught his reflection in the mirror, his expression a mix of fascination and appreciation, and your smile widened even more. "you like it?" you asked playfully, even though you could already tell by the look on his face.
"it looks incredible on you," he said, stepping closer. the admiration in his voice was undeniable, and his eyes never left your figure as he moved. "every curve, the way it fits your waist—it’s perfect."
his gaze shifted to the neckline, noticing how you kept adjusting the corset. "except maybe here," he added, gently reaching up to pull the fabric up a bit for you. his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "feels like it’s not fitting you quite right up top."
you nodded, looking down at your chest and laughing softly. "yeah, it keeps slipping a little. not the best fit for my, uh, chest."
jungwon tilted his head, his eyes still locked on the way the fabric clung to you. "we could probably make a small adjustment to the top. just enough to keep it secure without losing that sleek look."
he stood directly behind you now, his presence warm and steady as he eyed your reflection in the mirror. his hands hovered near your waist, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel the energy between you. "but honestly," he added, voice dropping, "it’s hard to notice anything wrong when it looks this good on you."
you met his gaze in the mirror, cheeks flushing slightly at his words. there was something about the way he looked at you—like he was seeing more than just an outfit.
your heart fluttered as jungwon's words hung in the air. his gaze, warm and intense, never left your body, and it felt like every second he spent behind you made your skin tingle. you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and before you knew it, you were looking down, trying to steady your breath. your fingers played with the hem of the corset, pulling it up again, even though that wasn’t really the issue.
get it together, you thought to yourself, chewing the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning too wide. it’s a professional relationship. he’s your stylist. this is what he does.
but every time you dared to glance back at the mirror, your resolve cracked just a little more. jungwon was still there, standing close behind you, his eyes lingering on you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. and it wasn’t just the way he looked—it was the way he felt standing there, like the air between you was charged with something you couldn’t quite name.
your heart skipped a beat, and despite trying to keep your composure, you couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping back onto your face. god, get a grip, you scolded yourself, but it was impossible not to feel something when his gaze was that intense.
he seemed to realize it too. there was a moment—a brief flicker in his expression—where he caught himself staring. almost like he forgot for a second that this was supposed to be all about fashion. jungwon blinked, then let out a soft, almost embarrassed laugh, quickly brushing his hand through his hair. his fingers tousled his dark strands, and he turned away from you, moving toward one of the racks like he was suddenly very busy.
"so," he began, his tone light and casual, as though he hadn’t just been admiring your every curve moments before. "should we go with shorts or a skirt? i feel like either could work with the corset, but we should go with whatever makes the most impact for fashion week."
you exhaled quietly, feeling the tension ease as he busied himself with the clothes, his back now to you. he was already flipping through hangers, acting like nothing had happened, but you could still feel the lingering energy between you two.
jungwon rummaged through the rack with practiced precision, flipping through various fabrics before his hand landed on something. "ah, here it is," he said, pulling out a sleek skirt with a satisfied grin.
you watched as he held it up for you to see. the material was a smooth, structured twill—something that could perfectly complement the denim without clashing. the fabric had a bit of shine to it, just enough to elevate it beyond casual wear, but what really caught your attention was the unique detail at the waist. there was a thin, adjustable thread running along the top, almost like a drawstring but far more elegant, allowing you to tighten the fit as needed. it added a subtle edge to the skirt’s design, making it feel more versatile and modern.
"this could be perfect," jungwon said, his excitement matching yours. "the material’s got just enough weight to balance the denim, but it won’t overwhelm it. and with this thread detail," he ran a finger along the waist, showing how it worked, "you can adjust it exactly how you want it to fit."
your eyes lit up the moment you saw it. "oh my god, yes. it’s perfect." without even thinking twice, you reached for the skirt, your fingers brushing against his as you took it from him. "i’m trying this on right now."
he stepped back with a grin, giving you space as you slipped out of your pants and into the skirt, the fabric sliding smoothly over your legs. you turned to the mirror again, adjusting the waist with the thread until it sat snugly against your hips. it hugged your body in just the right way—tight where it needed to be but still comfortable, and it gave your whole look a balanced, polished feel.
you couldn’t help but smile, feeling an overwhelming sense of satisfaction as you twirled slightly to see how it moved with you. "what do you think?" you asked, your voice barely hiding your excitement.
jungwon was watching you again, eyes filled with approval as he nodded. "it’s everything. the corset and the skirt—it’s like they were made for each other." his gaze lingered just a moment longer before he added, "and they were definitely made for you."
you looked at your reflection once more, the outfit transforming you into exactly the vision you’d had in your mind since the beginning. "i love it," you said, beaming. "this is it. this is the look."
you couldn’t contain your excitement. the outfit was perfect—beyond perfect, and it made you feel unstoppable. without even thinking, you spun around and practically launched yourself into jungwon's arms. "oh my god, you’re the best!" you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck in a burst of joy.
he barely had time to react before you were in his arms, your body colliding with his in a tight hug. His grip instinctively tightened around you to steady the both of you as he let out a soft, surprised laugh. "whoa, okay, glad you like it!" he said, still smiling, clearly amused by your reaction.
but just as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, something unexpected happened. you felt a soft click behind you. for a split second, you didn’t understand what it was. then, suddenly, you felt the denim corset loosen completely.
your eyes widened in horror as you realized what had happened. the magnetic closure had come undone, and before you could even react, the corset slipped down, hitting the floor. you froze, every muscle in your body stiffening as the air around you seemed to stand still.
"oh my god," you whispered into his chest, your voice muffled and filled with embarrassment as you buried your face deeper, cheeks burning. you wanted to disappear, to melt into the ground and pretend this wasn’t happening. "oh my god, oh my god…"
jungwon’s body tensed at first, clearly just as surprised, but then, almost instinctively, his hands found their way to your waist. the warmth of his palms rested gently against your skin, holding you in place as if to steady you, even though both of you were standing perfectly still. his breath hitched for a moment, but he didn’t say anything.
the two of you just stood there, glued to each other, neither knowing what to do. you could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, a steady rhythm that seemed louder in the silence, while your own heart raced wildly, your face still hidden against his chest.
you let out a shaky breath, unable to move or even think straight, trapped in a whirlwind of embarrassment. "i—i didn’t mean for that to happen," you mumbled against him, voice small and apologetic, barely above a whisper.
jungwon, who had been frozen for what felt like an eternity, finally spoke, his voice low and soft. "it’s okay," he said, his hands still resting on your waist, as if anchoring you both in the moment. "it was the magnet."
you both laughed nervously, a quiet, shared moment of awkwardness but also something else neither of you could quite name.
jungwon's hands still rested gently on your waist, his touch warm and steady, grounding you in a moment that felt anything but. your heart was racing, and you could feel his pulse thudding just as strongly against your cheek. the awkwardness between you grew thick, heavy, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.
but then, without saying a word, jungwon's hand moved from your waist, gliding up slowly. your breath caught in your throat as his fingers gently tilted your chin upward, coaxing your face away from where you’d buried it against his chest. your eyes reluctantly met his, wide and uncertain, your body instinctively pushing closer to him to keep your chest covered.
his touch was soft, yet there was something deliberate about the way he held your chin, guiding you to look at him. you could feel the heat from his fingers, his thumb grazing the edge of your jawline, and for a moment, the world outside of the two of you didn’t exist. it was just the quiet, the subtle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hands, and the intensity in his eyes as they locked onto yours.
but he couldn’t stop himself. his gaze flickered, almost unwillingly, sliding down from your face, tracing the line of your neck before settling lower. his eyes dipped, just for a heartbeat, to where the corset had fallen away, and though you’d pressed tighter into him, he could still catch the soft curve of your bare skin. his eyes did a slow, unintentional marathon—from your eyes, to your chest, and then back again, as if he was trying to fight it but losing that battle with each passing second.
you felt a shiver run through you, your entire body hyper-aware of his presence, the closeness, the heat between you. his fingers still held your chin, his grip gentle but firm, and the way he looked at you—like he was seeing you in a way he never had before—sent your heart pounding even faster.
"jungwon…" you whispered, your voice barely audible, not even sure what you were asking, or if you were asking anything at all. maybe just for the moment to slow down, or speed up—something. your cheeks burned with embarrassment, your arms still wrapped around his waist, pressing tighter as if that would somehow make everything less exposed, less vulnerable.
jungwon’s gaze was intense, almost overwhelming, and you felt your pulse quicken under the weight of it. his eyes seemed to linger just a moment too long on every part of you, tracing your features with a softness that made your breath hitch. unable to take the intensity any longer, you instinctively turned around, trying to break free from the moment, hoping to gather yourself.
but in your flustered state, you didn’t realize the full gravity of what you’d just done.
the cool air on your bare skin suddenly felt more noticeable, your nipples hardening in an Instant, and before you could react, you were standing there—completely uncovered—facing the massive mirror. your heart skipped a beat, panic flooding through you as it hit you: jungwon was right behind you, already facing the mirror. his eyes had a perfect view of everything reflected back at him.
"oh my god," you gasped, realization crashing over you like a tidal wave.
before you could move, jungwon was already there. his reflexes were quicker than you expected, and without hesitation, his hands shot forward, gently but urgently covering your exposed chest. his palms pressed against your tits, shielding you from both the mirror and himself, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through you.
the room seemed to freeze for a moment, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. you could feel jungwon’s breath behind you, shaky and uncertain, his hands resting protectively over you. your pulse raced beneath his fingers, the intimacy of the situation more than either of you had anticipated.
“i knew they would fit just right in my hands” jungwon whispered merely for himself but your ears couldn’t ignore it either. his hands were warming up your chest a lot in that moment, and if before you’d be positive that your nipples are the hardest they could be, well, jungwon decided to prove you wrong and circle his palms around them to make them even rock hard. he couldn’t stop staring at the mirror, at the way your body was glued to his, at the manner in which there was only one obstacle from seeing your beautiful chest and that was his own hands.
you bit your lower lip, resting the back of your head against his chest as he lowered his head to place a wet kiss against your exposed skin. you trembled under his touch as his plumped lips left saliva on your beautiful neck, following to be licked off by his long tongue, going all the way to your ears. and because he couldn’t leave them just like that, he bit your earlobe, still, so gently. his hands continued to tease your nips against his palms, now your shoulder being devoured by his hungry lips, kissing, licking, sucking and nibbling all over.
naturally, one of his arms went lower to unwrap the thread along your skirt, causing it to fall down so carelessly, exposing your simple, pale pink panties, along with a wet stain against them. “do i turn you on, y/n”? jungwon asked, eyes locked on the mirror, pushing his hand lower to cup your pussy completely. he rested it there, using his middle finger to press against your hole, hidden behind the drenched piece of lingerie.
“mhm” you nodded, closing your eyes as arching your back in response, unable to resist to his soft, attentive yet dangerous touch. you pushed your chest up, the lonely left breast showing off its round and perky shape. jungwon smirked at the view of that, turning you around and pressing you against the mirror. the cold touch of the glass gave you a short shiver, followed by another one coming from jungwon, who couldn’t help but get on his knees in front of you.
“as a model, you should control yourself regardless of the circumstances, is that true?” he asked you on a deliberate sarcastic tone, a mischievous smile appearing on his face. he stuck out his tongue, licking his lips like a hungry animal. “let’s see if you can keep your moans to yourself then, sweetheart” he added, just before pulling down your panties, his hot breathe hitting your soaked pussy immediately. you felt your legs getting weaker already, but jungwon made sure to hold you still, his mouth taking a full bite of your dripping wet cunt. if before he presented himself to be the greatest gentleman, now he surely proves the contrary. jungwon aggressively sucked on your clit, using a finger to push inside you unexpectedly.
you whimpered out, loud enough for the whole staircase to hear. “shh” he whispered to you, pushing his finger as high as possible and taking it out to make you desperate. his lips were taking over your folds, giving each of them their own turn, leaving wet kisses and fainted marks. additional to his index finger, another one joined him, pushed hard inside you again, letting another moan out, even louder this time. jungwon smirked, and curled them inside you, making your legs tremble. you clenched around his fingers, his tongue giving your clit now all of his attention.
at this point, you had no more strength to stand still and kept going lower, his fingers deeper inside you. “ride my fingers” he urged you, raising his head to see your face full of pleasure, rolling your eyes back with each movement. he stopped moving his hand now, and waited for you to do your turn. with a small gulp, you pushed you body lower until his finger were all hidden inside you again, biting your lips not to let another sound escape from you. it felt so good you couldn’t raise anymore, legs still shaking in pleasure. that’s when jungwon’s patience went down to 0 and his fingers curled again inside you, this time his thumb rubbing your clit in sync.
“do you like how i finger you, sweetheart? your wet sounds say it all”
his smirk couldn’t leave his face at all, not for a second, nor could his gaze let go of yours. he was obsessed with the way you rolled your eyes back, the way you pushed your chest up and the way your shaking legs couldn’t help you stand still anymore. all of this because of him, because of his hands, his fingers, simply him, his voice, his touch.
“i feel so close” you whined, the words barely coming out of your mouth correctly. but to be fair, how could you say anything right when all you could feel was pleasure? hearing your statement, jungwon stood up and pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, revealing his hardened length. “then cum around my cock” he imposed as he pushed his dick covered in precum inside your cunt. he pressed his hands against the mirror, pumping himself into you. he threw his head back, speeding up his rhythm as your tits jumped up and down.
“j-jungwon” you moaned aloud his name, crying along with it. you did not have a single thought on your mind anymore, all you could feel was jungwon’s cock hitting your g point a million times, until your body couldn’t take it anymore. “jungwon i-“ you started saying, but before you could finish, he was already painting your walls white. you let go of your pleasure and came on his cock, throwing your arms around his neck to find some support.
legs shaking, you were still trying to catch your breathe. completely naked against the dressing room mirror, you felt a shiver down your spine and a moan was shouted out again when jungwon pushed himself inside you one more time. he chuckled, seeing your reaction and lifted you up, walking effortlessly across the room to the leathered sofa. he sat down on it, you still on his lap, his cock still buried inside you.
“round two?”
#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen smut#enhypen hard#sunoo hard thoughts#enhypen#enha smut#enha x reader#jungwon hard hours#jungwon enha#enhypen jungwon#jungwon smut#jungwon#jungwon x reader#jungwon hard thoughts#enha imagines#jungwon imagines#smut#kinktober
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UNDERCUT
a/n: based off a tweet that said gojo would purr if u touched his undercut. listened to peace piece while writing ✶
there is something about lying on sheets that match gojo satoru’s hair, while the gentle breeze of the autumn morning filters through your blinds. there are both birds singing in the trees and butterflies in your stomach from merely having your lover close to you; it’s second nature to wake up and crave his warmth.
undercut’s getting long. we’d have to trim it soon.
and when your silence and thoughts are interrupted by someone’s morning groans and hums from the glare of the tokyo sky, a smile naturally graces your lips. even now, your hand hasn’t stopped brushing through his locks.
“good morning, my love,” the expression he gives matches yours exactly: his chest immediately feels tight when he sees you, morning breath and all, he gets giddy and tingly and wants to kiss you all over. you’re wondering why he hasn’t done it yet.
slow like the morning, slow like these words, satoru props himself up with his elbows, easily reaching for your face before you both sink into a gentle, slow kiss. it’s so sweet that you’re sure it could turn (faux) insult into ardour and you don’t even notice you need air until the both of you break away and giggle softly at your flushed faces.
“your undercut is growing fast, y’know. we’d have to cut it soon,” the tips of your fingers run over the short strands of hair subconsciously, mouth gaping open a little when satoru closes his eyes and hums at the feeling.
“do it again.”
you laugh, “okay,” and you do, softly guiding your hands over the fuzzy hairs and gaining content sighs and soft moans from the man. gojo has to hide in your stomach, needing to be closer to you as you continue your hypnotising gesture.
“like it when your hair’s touched, huh?” the other hums yet again.
“only when my baby’s doing it.” there’s a ghost of a smile in your stomach, possibly from hearing the flutters of the butterflies in your tummy.
his embrace tightens around you when he sits up, towering over you now as the sky turns dark for a morning shower. fickle-minded weather, satoru would say, click his tongue and shake his head and you grin harder imagining it; your lovers asks why.
“nothing, just thinking.”
“of me? you better be, darling,” gojo thumbs your waist under the shirt you’re wearing, sleep still evident in his voice in the way he slurs his words — it could also be that he’s terribly, deeply in love with you and is simply high off of your presence.
and if that wasn’t the case before, it is now when he leans in again for a rougher kiss, moaning into your mouth as you continue to stroke his undercut. he can taste the sun on your mouth and the imminent rain to come all on you.
“i love you like how poets write,” satoru whispers against your lips in between kisses, and he runs hot, the back of his neck heating up from how much he adores you; it almost burns like flames licking at paper. “how the rain chases the sun.”
gojo tears a little because how the fuck would he have gotten this much love under the home of one of the most powerful clans? essentially nothing — and now he has the closest resemblance of a deity in his arms who knows exactly how many spoons of sugar he likes in his tea and how kikufuku is made from one of his rambles.
“you’re okay, i got you.” you mumble, fingers prepared at his eyes (you heard him sniffle). “i love you too.”
gojo’s heart is full when you reply to his confession, kissing you again (favourite thing in the world) and stifling smiles as the rain makes its first fall in the serenity of your room. he thinks of declaring his love, but is certain his love would overflow later at breakfast, at reading hour, at movie night.
satoru merely settles for calling you his sweet, sweet girl in between saccharine pecks and making sure he loves you louder than that morning downfall and every other downpour that’s sure to come.
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if you know me i think you’ll know i have a problem with this gojo obsession
#gojo fluff#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo satoru drabble#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru jjk#gojo satoru imagine#satoru gojo#satoru gojō x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#jjk drabbles#jjk headcanons#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x black reader#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo imagine#geto fluff#gojo x you#jjk gojo x reader
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yn: stay home— pham hanni
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hanni pham x reader! established relationship
synopsis: yn had been wanting to go out for the night after a week of stressful office work so she decided to attend a friends party but it seemed like someone was begrudgingly opposed to that idea so hanni decided to make matters to her own hands to sabotage that.
The apartment was buzzing with the faint hum of weekend energy—the muted bassline of distant music, muffled voices echoing from the street below. yn stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, appraising her outfit with the critical eye of someone who hadn’t been to a proper party in ages. A fitted black top and her favourite pair of jeans—it wasn’t revolutionary, but it was reliable.
“You’re really going out,” Hanni’s voice cut through the room, flat and unimpressed.
yn glanced over her shoulder to find Hanni sprawled across their shared bed, her face half-buried in the pillow, dark hair sticking out in every possible direction. She looked utterly at home, her oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, and her legs tucked up like she had no intention of moving for the rest of her life.
“Yes, I’m going out,” yn replied, turning back to the mirror to adjust the collar of her top. “It’s just a party, Han. I won’t be gone long.”
Hanni made a sound—a cross between a groan and a sigh—that was so dramatic it would have put a soap opera actress to shame. “You’re abandoning me.”
“Don’t be a baby,” yn said, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “You’ll survive a few hours without me.”
“No, I won’t,” Hanni shot back, her voice muffled by the pillow. Then, suddenly, she sat up, her dark eyes narrowing like a cat spotting its prey. “In fact, I don’t think you’ll survive without me.”
yn didn’t even have time to react before Hanni launched herself off the bed with a speed and precision that could only be described as terrifyingly athletic.
“Wait—Hanni, no—”
But it was too late. Hanni tackled her mid-sentence, her arms wrapping around yn’s waist as they both toppled backward onto the bed. The impact sent the neatly folded pile of clothes on the edge of the mattress tumbling to the floor.
“Hanni!” yn protested, her voice high-pitched with a mix of laughter and exasperation.
“You’re not going!” Hanni declared, pinning yn beneath her with the determination of someone who’d just decided to stage a sit-in. “I forbid it.”
“Oh, you forbid it?” yn shot back, arching an eyebrow as she tried—and failed—to wiggle free. “And what exactly gives you the authority to forbid anything?”
Hanni grinned down at her, unrepentant. “I’m your girlfriend, duh. That’s, like, my whole job.”
“Your job is to support me, not tackle me like a linebacker.”
Hanni gasped, feigning offense. “I am supporting you! I’m supporting you by saving you from a terrible decision. Parties are overrated. They’re loud, sweaty, and full of people who think ‘vibes’ is a personality trait.”
“I don’t care about the vibes,” yn countered, still squirming beneath her. “I just want to dance and have fun for a couple of hours!”
“We can dance here,” Hanni said, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.
“Oh, yeah? Are you going to DJ for me?”
Hanni smirked. “I might. I’ve got a killer playlist called ‘Certified Bangers to Stay Home To.’”
“Of course you do,” yn muttered, her voice dripping with mock disdain.
“Hanni, come on,” yn groaned, trying—and failing—to pry her off. “I told people I’d be there!”
“They’ll survive without you,” Hanni mumbled, tightening her grip. “I, however, will not.”
“I’m simply saving you from an utterly terrible decision of your life, baby,” Hanni confidently declared, no thought of letting go.
“This isn’t a decision!” yn huffed, squirming. “This is a hostage situation!”
Hanni smirked. “Call it what you want, but you’re not going anywhere.”
yn let out a long sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet, you love me,” Hanni replied, leaning down just enough to press a quick, teasing kiss to yn’s nose.
yn stopped struggling for a moment, realizing the futility of her situation. Instead, she tried a different tactic. She sighed dramatically, slumping back against the bed. “Fine. You win. I’ll stay home.”
Hanni froze, pulling back just enough to peer at yn suspiciously. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” yn replied, her tone just a little too agreeable. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s order pizza or something.”
Hanni’s face lit up, her grin smug as she released yn from her grip. “That’s right. No party for you. We’re having a cozy night in.” She rolled off yn, flopping back onto the bed with an air of triumphant satisfaction.
But yn wasn’t giving up so easily.
As Hanni turned to grab her phone, presumably to start browsing for takeout, yn slid off the bed as quietly as possible. Her boots barely made a sound as she crept toward the door.
“Hanni doesn’t need to know,” she whispered under her breath.
She was almost there—her hand brushing the doorknob—when a voice rang out behind her.
“yn.”
She froze. Slowly, she turned to find Hanni sitting up on the bed, her arms crossed and her expression caught somewhere between a pout and a glare.
“You lied to me!” Hanni accused, pointing dramatically.
“Hanni, I—”
“Don’t even try it,” Hanni interrupted, sliding off the bed with a speed that was honestly a little terrifying. Before yn could react, Hanni had crossed the room and wrapped herself around yn like an octopus, her head resting firmly on yn’s shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Let me go!” yn protested, laughing despite herself.
“Nope!” Hanni said, her voice muffled against yn’s neck. “You lied to me. Now you have to stay. Permanently.”
“Hanni, this is absurd!”
“So is leaving me for a party,” Hanni shot back, tightening her grip.
yn huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, she let herself relax into Hanni’s hold, realizing she wasn’t getting out of this any time soon. Every time she so much as shifted, Hanni’s grip tightened like a vice. Escape was futile.
Eventually, yn gave up entirely, letting her head fall against Hanni’s shoulder. “You win. I’m staying.”
“Good,” Hanni happily said, kissing you on the cheek, grabbing the nearest blanket and draping it over them both. “Now, pizza or ramen?”
“I hate you,” yn muttered, though her tone was light.
“No, you don’t,” Hanni replied, nuzzling her cheek against yn’s. “You love me. And now you’re stuck with me all night.”
And she was. No party, no dancing, just Hanni holding her hostage on the bed for the rest of the evening. By the time the pizza arrived, yn had to admit—staying home wasn’t the worst thing in the world. But she wasn’t about to let Hanni know that.
#newjeans fanfic#newjeans#newjeans imagines#kpop idol x reader#idol x reader#newjeans x reader#hanni#hanni pham x reader
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𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄
summary: coming home after a stressful week, you're practically dead on your feet and ready to fall asleep then and there. luckily, your boyfriend's got you covered.
pairing: tattoo artist! scara x gn! reader
a/n: fluff/slice of life; betcha didn't see this one coming, contrary to popular belief this au is still alive; at the request of many, here is more soft modern au scara (not proofread bc it's almost 3 am and we don't question that)
modern au masterlist || genshin masterlist
With heavy feet you dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment, hand coming up to cover a yawn every other step. Your week had been a stressful one, leaving you with little time for chores, hobbies or seeing your boyfriend, and you were just about ready to fall into bed immediately.
When you cracked open the door, the first thing you noticed was the light coming from the living room and kitchen. Did you leave them on this morning? Crap, that wouldn’t help your electricity bills.
But then you also heard shuffling and the clatter of plates and cutlery, which caught your attention. Not expecting an intruder to make themselves at home in your kitchen, you calmly kicked off your shoes, expecting to be met with the sight of an unmistakable bob cut and familiar silver piercings working away on your countertop. From under the neckline of his black shirt you could make out the top of the tattoo decorating his nape.
The hands currently plating what appeared to be your dinner -one of your favourites, you noted- twitched momentarily when you launched a sneak attack, wrapping your arms around Scara’s waist from behind. His surprise was gone just as quickly though, and from where your head rested against his back, you could feel him huff just as well as you could hear him.
”It would suit you right if I dropped your plate, you know,” Scara scolded you, though his bark lacked any and every spark of bite. Peeking around him to check if his hands were empty, you took the opportunity to plant a lingering kiss on the nape of his neck, feeling his skin go hot under lips immediately.
“Sorry, but I’m tired and I haven’t seen my lovely boyfriend allllll week, I couldn’t help myself,” you mumbled into his tattoo, not quite ready to part with him yet. “I missed you.”
“…I missed you, too, idiot,” your boyfriend sighed, pronouncing the nickname the same way someone else might call you ‘darling’. “C’mon, if you let go of me for a minute, you can change clothes and sit on the couch sooner, alright?”
That was how you knew Scara was aware of how beat you were. Eating on the couch was reserved for special occasions only, but it always put you in a better mood immediately. There was only one problem.
“Listen, Scara, I haven’t been able to do much cleaning this week. The state of my couch—“
“-has already been taken care of.” The way he finished your sentence was all the clues you needed to know he was rolling his eyes at you. “If you’d stop imitating a thistle you’d also know that.”
Detaching yourself from him, you took in your living room for the first time since coming home and almost didn’t recognise it from when you left it this morning. While your offences throughout the week hadn’t been major in and of themselves, over the course of a week, all the items you had discarded on the nearest surface while rushing through had piled up.
Now, however, you couldn’t have guessed you ever left it in that state, all your belongings back where they were usually to be found. Setting the plates down on the cleared coffee table, Scara picked something up from the couch and threw it at you before you could even reel in your mind long enough to thank him. Somehow you actually managed to catch the dark blue hoodie with frantic hands.
“I’m taking some of my others back, but you can keep that one for now. God forbid you wear your own shit for once.” Knowing him well enough, it was no secret to you that he actually loved giving you his clothes, the glint of bashful pride in his eyes betraying him every time. Plopping down on the couch, he turned to look back at you, hands making shooing motions towards your bedroom. “Go wash up and change before the food gets cold.”
However brash Scara’s words may sound to others, your heart fluttered all the way up to the smile that tugged at your lips. Clutching the fabric to your chest, you rushed to the bathroom to speed through your routine and change into comfy pants. As soon as you poked your head through the neckline of his hoodie, a familiar scent enveloped you and for the first time in what felt like forever, you found yourself calming down for good.
When you returned to the living room, you found that Scara had already flipped through the streaming service to the show you watched together but hadn’t managed to catch up on.
Handing you your dinner, you ate in comfortable silence, save for one or the other sarcastic comment Scara had to offer.
With your plates empty and back on the table, it didn’t take you long to crawl over to your boyfriend, cuddling up to where he occupied the corner of the couch. Only minimal complaints later were you resting with your head against his chest, legs tangled together over the length of the couch. The hand that wasn’t holding you close by the waist was instead running up and down your spine in soothing motions and it had you yawning into his neck more than once, eyes fluttering shut against your will.
“If you’re tired just go to sleep,” Scara mumbled into the crown of your head, shifting slightly so you could rest against him more snugly. “You worked hard this week, don’t force yourself.”
“But I wanna spend more time with you,” you drowsily answered into the material of his hoodie.
“Hah, you really are an idiot,” he sighed once more, but not even your half-asleep self could miss the thumb gently stroking over your cheek. “I’m off work tomorrow, so dream about what you wanna do. Now go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“I love you,” came your hushed reply as you held onto him tighter.
You didn’t feel the kiss placed carefully against the top of your head or hear the whisper filled with affection, but they must have followed you into your dreams, for they were sweeter than any.
© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit. do not feed my writing to an ai.
if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡
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#┊holly’s modern au ✩彡#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#genshin impact#x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin modern au#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#scara x reader#scaramouche x reader#genshin scara#scaramouche#genshin wanderer#wanderer#wanderer x reader#scaramouche fluff
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I’m obsessed with your sub!Aemond content! Please write anything nsfw with sub!Aemond and his wife
I seriously can't believe how good the reactions to my sub!aemond content has been! thank you all so so much. I think what I'm gonna do here is just list sone absolutely filthy sub!aemond ideas and headcannons and then we can go from there! You guys can send me your own thoughts, expand on one of my headcannons or ask me to speak more about something :))
NSFW sub!aemond x reader content below the cut!
I think he'd be into long term denial? Or at least, denial for a few days. You edge him for a few days and then when you finally let him cum he loses his mind.
This gonna sound ridiculous, but I think there's chance he's into chastity? This is because he just LOVES the idea that you completely control this pleasure? He'll sometimes ask for a cock cage to be put on his before he goes out to seek allies and then when he's back you play with him and make him cum.
Definitely has a competency kink, and not just for sexual situations, you showing your skill and competence in literally any field will never fail to make him flustered.
such a slut for choking and hair pulling
his favourite position for handjobs is to sit between your legs and lean back against your chest, it gives you full access and he feels so safe.
very very very big fan of being held down
I think he might actually have a secret fantasy of having people watch the two of you? He would never ever want a threesome or to watch you with someone else but to know people are watching you two? Amazing
It boils down to the fact that he kinda gets to show off? He has you!! You're taking him apart and giving him your full attention and everyone watching knows that the two of you belong to each other and no one else. He just dreams of how hot it would be to show everyone just how much the two of you love each other.
he loves the idea of free use? Of having a period of time where he knows you're just going to touch him and use him without saying a word. He has no idea when you're going to do it or what you will do, but he loves it. It kinda feels like he's just a toy for you?
he will melt the moment you manhandle him
For some reason I think touching his waist in public makes him lose his mind? If you walk up to him, wrap an arm around his waist and then gently guide him somewhere? His brain has turned off, no thoughts only pretty wife.
#sub!aemond#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader#prince aemond#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd#house of the dragon imagine
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Hey sunnyyyyy😋can we get the girl next door crush trope with Rodrick heffley headcannons
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS IS BUT FUCK YEAH
(I’m ngl- I’m very uncultured I had to look up what the girl next door trope was) (also this made me realise idk how to make headcanons)
Contains: rodrick Heffley x f!reader, nsfw, reader and rodrick are neighbours and childhood friends lol, more rodrick accidentally perving on reader, smut under the cut!
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You and Rodrick had been friends since childhood. you were neighbours. When you were little you used to always play together, he had a habit of being a bully sometimes.
As you grew up you stayed friends, not as close as you were when you were little, but still close. When he’d get mad at his dad or something, he’d come to your house. He’d talk about music, school, girls he had a crush on. You’d just smile and listen.
He never really saw you as ‘dateable’. You were always just his close friend who he’d go to for comfort, and when he needed someone to talk to.
The two of you would drive around in his van, listening to music, or get snacks together. He’d always tell you about songs his band was working on.
He’s the kind to make you a mixtape of your favourite songs, you face felt hot after he handed it to you.
He definitely throws his arm over your shoulder when he’s walking with you
One day one of your neighbours had a party, your family and rodricks family were both invited. You wore a short skirt and a cute top. That was the first time Rodrick really saw you as a woman. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, he has a goofy smile as he tried to act cool, his ears tinted red.
After that he realised how much he liked you, even before this, when he would adamantly refuse that he liked you, he definitely did. He’d always try to make you laugh, he thought the way you talked was cute, he’d try to impress you when he played drums, and way more embarrassing stuff he doesn’t want to admit.
Rodrick having a crush on you would 100% mean he’d invite you to every practice and the few places that let his band play. He’d call you his personal roadie lol.
He’d sneak out of the house at night to go to yours, he’d say it was because he was pissed off about something, but really he just wanted to see you.
You’d bring him to your room, trying not to wake your parents, even though they were used to rodrick coming over at random times by now. You talked about hearing a song he would’ve liked, humming the song softly. He immediately blushed, not just because he liked hearing your voice, but also because you thought of him.
You loved how dorky he was, even though he tried to act cool, he really wasn’t.
He never planned to confess, he didn’t want to ruin the friendship and was hoping the crush would just die down overtime, it didn’t. He was talking about you to his friends, yet again, when you showed up at his house unannounced and caught him talking about everything he loves about you. He has never been more embarrassed. He tried to pretend he was talking about another girl while he friends just exchanged knowing glances.
He definitely accidentally perved on you on when you were getting out of the shower.
Rodrick thought you were innocent, he hadn’t seen you bring any guys over, at least none he thought you were hooking up with. And since he’s a virgin too, he really wanted his first time to be with you.
He definitely thinks about you whenever he jerks off :]
You know that whole trope of “accidentally looking though a girls window when she’s changing”? That happened. You both stared at eachother for a few seconds before you felt your face grow hot. You quickly covered your chest and closed the curtains. He popped a boner real fast.
—
I’m all out of brain juice 😭 I’m so sorry, I have no idea what this trope is, so I hope this works 🫶🫶 if it doesn’t, I’ll rewrite it fr LOLL but my requests are always open 😼
#rodrick heffley smut#rodrick heffley#rodrick heffley x reader#rodrick heffley x y/n#rodrick smut#rodrick x reader#devon bostick
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as a kid i was so scared of my parents splitting up, what if roan learns someone in her class’ parents are divorcing and it sends her spiralling thinking she’d never see reader again?
thank you jade 💛
thank you for requesting lovely ♡ eddie and roan (almost) stepmom!reader, 2k
"Yeah, I got the expensive kind," you're saying, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder, a knife held loosely in your hand. "I don't wanna make it wrong."
Roan can vaguely hear the rumble of her Uncle's voice on the other side giving reassurances.
You scrape the blade of the knife against the cutting board. "I know. I know, Wayne, I swear, just… I hardly ever make him dinner and this is our last anniversary before we get married, and– I know. Sorry, that's– I know, you don't mind, it's just–"
Roan attaches herself to your hip like an octopus, looking up at you as you look down. You smile at her, putting your knife flat to stroke her hair.
"She's right here," you say, "she's helping me… okay. Thanks, Wayne, you're the best. See you tomorrow. Alright, I will. Bye."
You put your hand behind Roan's shoulder and walk her with you to the phone. As soon as you've hung it back on the hook, you scoop her up to hold against your chest, even if she's getting longer and longer every day. "Hey, babe. Uncle Wayne says he loves you and he missed you today. He wants to make you dinner tomorrow, so we'll find your nice blue dress tonight and put it in the wash."
Roan flops her face against your neck. "I love him too."
"He knows." You press your cheek to hers briefly. "Okay, you wanna sit on the top with me and I'll finish making today's dinner?"
Roan's happy to sit on the counter and swing her legs as you finish making the pot pie. It's one of Eddie's favourites because his mom used to make it a couple of times a month, and so it's one of Roan's favourites, her lips quirked with excitement as you chop onions, carrots and celery into small pieces for the frying pan.
"I love the carrots," she says.
"Yeah?" You uncap the cooking oil to pour a generous splash into the pan. "Want me to put extra in? I don't mind."
Roan nods enthusiastically. "Yes!"
She's happy watching you cook at first, but she gets quieter as you finish up. By the time the pie is in the oven she's picking at her little nails, shards of polish in her lap like powdered sugar.
"You okay?" you ask, wiping your hands clean. She shrugs. You shrug back. "What's that mean?"
"I'm thinking."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Roan pokes her toes into your thigh.
"Well, daddy's home soon, but you know you can tell me."
"Mm," she hums, holding out her hand. You don't take it, folding her into your arms for a hug instead.
It would usually make her feel better, but Roan feels ten times worse as you soften your tone to a less cheerful murmur, "Got another tummy ache?"
"Not that."
"What is it?" you ask.
She hides her face in your shoulder, pert nose to your soft shirt.
"You don't have to tell me," you whisper. "Sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you, I promise, I just love you." You turn saccharine again, patting her back as you dote excitedly into the top of her head. "Love you love you love you!" You punctuate with a kiss, and Roan starts crying.
—
Eddie's startled but not too worried to get home to the sound of Roan crying. She certainly cries less and less now that she's getting older, but children cry so often that he doesn't think it's worth panicking over.
He can hear you already on the case as he peels out of his sweaty coat and boots. "That's not going to happen," you comfort, voice bouncing off of kitchen tile, the hum of the oven like a baseboard. "It's hard to believe me, but it won't. Me and daddy are super happy."
His eyebrows rise of their own accord. "Hello?" he asks, moving down the hallway and into your bright kitchen.
Roan sits in the shadow of a corner cabinet, hunched over her knees with her face held up by defeated hands, tears wetting her rosy cheeks. You stand in front of her with your hand on shoulder, bent to her eye-level, glancing sideways at him momentarily before you say, "Look, dad's home. He's gonna say the exact same thing as me, I swear. Should we ask him?"
Eddie takes the mantle by your side, quick to rub the tears from Roan's cheek with his pinky. His hands aren't clean enough for anything more. "What's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing," Roan says, her voice strangled by a big sob.
"Babe!" Eddie laughs, half-hearted. "I can see something's super wrong. I might be a dumb boy, but I know when my girl's upset, don't I?"
"You're not a dumb boy," Roan says.
"Oh. Thank you, Ro."
"You're a dumb man."
"Very funny." He combs unruly coils of dark hair behind her ear, finger following down the curve to her shoulder. "Quick, tell me what's wrong. Just tell me. Rip it off like a bandaid."
"It's silly," Roan murmurs.
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"Oh," Eddie says, giving you a look to make sure it's alright before he monopolises her attention. You raise your hands with a small smile, as if to say, Please. "Come here, me. I'm gonna have to squeeze this out of you, huh?"
He leans back, shifting her weight against his hip, arm stretched over the breadth of her back. He's not smug, but it does bring a satisfaction to see how swiftly she calms down once he's holding her. It's a familiar picture, Eddie with his lips to her forehead, a crease between his brow just like Uncle Wayne's as he rubs her back, and Roan, a mirror image of her father, palpable relief in her hands as they tangle in his hair. Less familiar but getting there is you at their side, your cheek on Eddie's shoulder and your hand on his elbow.
"What's it gonna take to let me in on the secret?" he asks. He's making a spoiled child accidentally, always bribing and bartering for good behaviour.
"Nothing…" Her mumbling tickles his cheek as she shifts around. "I'm worry‐ing," —her voice skips over the word, like a hiccup— "about something because of Stacy."
"Oh yeah? What did Stacy do?"
"She said her mom, um, her mom said she's getting a divorce. That Stacy won't see her dad again, and it'll just be her and her mom."
Eddie doesn't judge people much. He can't imagine caring about other people's divorces when Roan was born from a fling and pretty much left on his doorstep —circumstances don't determine your kid's happiness alone. He does worry for Stacy, and his poor empathetic little girl.
"That's terrible, bubby," Eddie placates, patting her back.
"It's– well, it's– I'm…" Roan huffs.
"Whatever you tell me is fine, promise. No grounding, no telling off."
"I know, daddy, it's just hard to say."
Eddie feels himself physically melt.
He leans back against the kitchen counter and shifts her against his stomach. His arms burn with the effort of keeping her secured to him, and he's not loving her sad tone —the quicker he finds out what's wrong, the better. He peeks over her head at you for hints.
You're uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other like your feet hurt.
"What?" he asks you.
You clear your throat. "I think she's worried about me. If something happened between us, she's worried she won't see me again."
Eddie would like to think after two years of loving his daughter, watching her grow, and all together being a cherished and irreplaceable part of her life and her support system, that you'd find it impossible to leave her. Even if you left Eddie, you wouldn't leave Ro. He knows that. But only two years… he knows you'd love Roan even if he screws things up, but he can't promise her that things would be the same, because they wouldn't be.
That's not what she's asking, though.
"What, you think you won't see Y/N anymore?' Eddie murmurs, rubbing her back.
"She's not my full mom," Roan whispers.
Eddie reaches past Roan to squeeze your elbow. "You know, that doesn't matter, honey. And after the wedding–"
"You call me mom for a reason, right?" you cut him off.
Roan lifts her head from Eddie's. "Yeah."
"Okay, so, say me and dad get married, and then by some impossibility we realise we can't stay married, will you love me less?"
"No," Roan says with a pout.
"I wouldn't love you any less, either. I didn't know I could love someone this much 'til I met you," you say, voice scratchy like you're talking past gravel. "So things would change, but not how much I love you. I'd still see you."
You sound tentative. Eddie's way less hesitant. "Of course you'd still see each other. Babe, if me and mom break up it'll be because I did something stupid, so you'd see her every time I tried to apologise." He grins at you. "How long do you think it would take you to forgive me?"
"Depends on what you did." You smile fondly. "Probably not long, Munson."
"I have a weird feeling we're gonna last."
Roan sniffles. "I just don't want mom to move away," she says.
You and Eddie have already spoken about this. Serious but not sombre, on your backs in bed. You're not just marrying me, Eddie'd said, terrified of how much he wanted you to say certain things, and how you might not say them at all. This isn't just a promise to me. I know how much I'm asking from you, it's not a small thing. I won't blame you if you can't say yes, but this is… she's my world.
I already said yes. And I knew what I was saying yes to, you'd replied, holding your hand up above you, the two of you staring in wonder at the ring on your marriage finger. I promise, Eds. I won't let either of you down.
"Where do you think I'm going, princess? Me and dad are so happy. I'm staying right here stuck to his hip for the rest of time, but only if you're gonna stick to mine." You duck your head to touch your noses together briefly. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?"
"Promise you." He swears you're twisting your engagement ring, but he can't quite see. "Can I have her?" you ask.
"Sure. My noodle arms are about to snap anyway."
"Noodle arms," you repeat, stealing Ro from him smoothly. "Yeah, right."
He flexes appreciatively at your comment.
Roan snuggles up to your neck, little face in the curve of it, her arms curling around you. You hold her tight and bend back under her weight, an arm against her thighs and another behind the small of her back, hand twisted up to brush her curls.
"Love you," you say softly. You're smiling like you've got everything you ever wanted. "Maybe if me and daddy break up I can just take you with me."
"Yeah!" Roan says with a gasp.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Whatever, girls. Neither of you can cook, you know that? Maybe tonight you guys can practise your new life together by not eating the dinner I'm gonna cook." Time to lighten the mood, lest Roan spend a special night lethargic.
You beam at him. "I already made dinner. Happy anniversary, handsome."
You exchanged gifts and kisses already that morning before work, but Eddie's happy to accept another quick kiss over Ro's shoulder. He dots one on his daughter's cheek to keep things fair.
"Lucky us, huh?" he says to Ro.
He's not strictly talking about dinner, and it's cheesy, but you light up like a Christmas tree. "Lucky me."
#eddie and roan#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things 4
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୨ৎ reunited. b.e
୨ৎ summary: you’re billie’s girlfriend of just over a year and you surprise her on tour after not seeing her for weeks. ୨ৎ dom billie x fem reader ୨ৎ 2.1k words ୨ৎ warnings: oral (reader receiving), teasing, so so fluffy they're cute and in love <3, unedited
billie was on stage performing, and you could see the adrenaline and excitement literally radiating off her. the crowd was wild—which billie always loved—and this was possibly the best show of the tour so far. the energy was unmatched, and you were in awe of how beautiful and free she always looked onstage. you loved seeing her interact with her fans and sing her heart out, it was a truly beautiful sight.
billie was totally unaware of the fact that you were backstage, and you watched her perform with a fond smile on your face—you and her had been dating for a little over a year, and it had been the best year of your entire life.
she’d been on tour for the past month, and it was probably the longest time you’d spent apart since you confessed your feelings to her. you’d called every night and texted constantly, and there’d been a fair share of phone sex when you’d both been too needy to wait until you saw each other in person again.
but now you were here, backstage at her concert, listening to her gorgeous voice and watching her with a wide smile as she sang the last song.
finneas and maggie had helped you get here without her knowing, finneas making sure to tell you all about the extent to which she had complained about missing you. maggie had been incredibly happy when you created the group chat to suggest the surprise, clearly glad that her daughter had finally found someone willing to put in effort for her. to say you were her family’s favourite of everyone she’d dated would be an understatement.
the concert eventually ended, and billie walked backstage while speaking to finneas. her sentence was cut off when she saw you standing there, doing a double take as her eyes widened. her steps halted, and she stared at you with an open mouth for a second before coming to her senses. as soon as her feet were no longer locked to the floor, she was running towards you.
her arms wrapped around you, the momentum of her running to you making the two of you do a little spin as you grabbed onto each other. she clung onto the fabric of your shirt as she buried her head in your neck. she breathed in deeply, savouring the feeling of being close to you again.
after a few minutes, she finally pulled away from the embrace, looking at you with a soft look in her eyes. “you’re here, oh my god. you came. you have no idea how happy this makes me…”
you smiled at her, finneas nudging your shoulder as he walked past with a small grin directed at the two of you. you rolled your eyes fondly at him before speaking, “of course i did. couldn’t go another month and a half without you.”
finneas sent you a pointed look, glancing between you and billie. “okay, lovebirds. i want to point out that i helped her get here, by the way.”
billie grinned at her brother, “you’re my second favourite person in the world, finneas.”
with a faux offended expression, finneas gasped dramatically. “i feel so betrayed. your own brother, replaced at number two?”
billie still had her arm wrapped around your shoulders, and she pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “obviously.”
finneas rolled his eyes, starting to walk away to find claudia, “wow, i didn’t know the lack of love you had in your heart for me. i’m leaving.”
billie laughed as he walked away, not gracing his overdramatic words with a response. she turned to you, her eyes shining slightly. “god, baby… can’t believe you’re here…”
you smile at her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. billie’s lips chased after your own when you moved to pull away, kissing you desperately, never wanting to let go. after a moment, she pulls back, gazing into your eyes. “mmm, i’ve wanted to do that for the last two months. never stopped thinking about how your lips feel on mine.”
you grinned playfully at her, “i bet you thought about how my lips feel somewhere else, too.”
billie’s mouth fell open for a moment at your bold words, but the surprise was quickly replaced by a smirk, her eyes trailing down your body.
“you know me so well…” her hands quickly found your waist, her thumbs rubbing soft circles on the bare skin between the waistband of your pants and the hem of your shirt. her tongue darted out to lick her lips, her eyes still locked on yours. “y’know, i think my dressing room should be empty for a while…”
you mirrored her smirk at her words, picking up on the less than subtle innuendo as her eyes continue to trail up and down your figure. “yeah? lead the way, pretty.”
her smirk widened, instantly intertwining your fingers together and pulling you to follow her. any other day, her hand probably would’ve been around your wrist, in a firmer, more possessive hold. but she was still in shock that you were even there with her, so she was being slightly softer with you than normal. she was holding your hand as if she thinks you’d disappear if she were to hold you too harshly, like you’d just fade away and she’d be alone again.
she wasn’t talking about it, but you knew she missed you more than she was letting on. every day without you had felt like absolute torture, and her family had watched her on the tour bus literally falling apart just because you weren’t there. the constant face-timing couldn’t compare to the feeling of your hand in hers, she was fully convinced that no feeling would ever make her feel more at peace than being close to you.
you arrived at her dressing room sooner than you’d thought you would, and she fumbled with the door handle for a second too long, before pulling you inside after her.
her hand moved to lock the door, and you knew you were in for it. she wasn’t going to be rough, no, not this time. but this could be soft and still torturous.
once the door was locked, she turned to you, giving you a smirk as she looked you up and down for a moment before slowly backing you into the wall. she pressed you against the wall and you didn’t even try to resist, a soft smile on your lips. you couldn’t deny how soft this felt, you were aware of the small differences in her actions—as if the time apart had made her scared of losing you.
she kissed you again, more urgently than the last. her tongue brushed along your bottom lip before she bit at it softly, leading to you opening your mouth in a gasp. she smiled against your lips and slipped her tongue inside your mouth, her body pressing closer against yours as she kept you against the wall. her knee pressed up between your thighs and a moan spilled out of your lips.
her hands found your waist, her cool fingers slowly creeping up underneath the hem of your shirt as her tongue continues to explore your mouth. her hands travelled further up under your shirt, leaving trails of goosebumps where she touched. one hand teasingly squeezed at your breast through your bra and the other deftly pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the ground somewhere—she couldn’t care less where it landed.
she let one of her hands snake around your back to the clasp of your bra, which she fumbled with for a moment out of her eagerness. soon, your bra had joined your shirt and her hands were drawn to your breasts like magnets. she seemed almost hypnotised, her eyes drinking in everything they’d been missing while the two of you had been apart. she gave one of your nipples a teasing tweak before her hands slowly trailed down your sides.
one of her hands moved to hook in the loop of your jeans. she seemed impatient, despite clearly wanting to take her time. she wanted to savour this reunion, but she also wanted to be between your thighs as soon as she possibly could.
moments later, she’d repositioned you so you were lying on the couch, your back propped up slightly by pillows. her hands had tugged your jeans halfway down your legs, and you impatiently kicked them off to join your shirt on the floor.
she settled between your legs, looking up at you with her signature grin before hooking her index finger around your panties and pulling them down your thighs. she carelessly chucked them behind her somewhere, assuming they’d land in the vicinity of your other discarded clothes. in all honesty, where your underwear landed was the least of her concerns—she’d much prefer if you never wore them ever again.
her ring-clad hands firmly grip your thighs, pulling them apart and leaving no room for argument—not that you wanted to argue. this was what you’d been waiting for for months. “billie, please–” the utter desperation, the pleading tone in which you spoke to her, brought a smirk to billie’s lips. she pressed soft, open mouthed kisses around your thighs, holding eye contact with you.
“yeah, baby? what do you need?” you whined, an honestly pathetic sound—but you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded, you needed your girlfriend. billie didn’t care about the patheticness of it all either, in fact, it seemed to make her lips twitch further up into a pleased smirk. she loved having you desperate, having you aching for her.
you finally managed to form the words to respond to her, “you, billie, your mouth, your fingers, i don’t care. You.”
her smirk widened, her kisses travelling ever so slightly closer to where she knew you needed her. she hummed softly, the noise sending vibrations along your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. her teeth nipped softly at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, a teasing smirk on her face as she looked up at you.
“yeah, pretty girl? you need me?”
you didn’t get time to respond before she was licking a stripe up your folds, still gripping your thighs firmly. her tongue travelled up to your clit and circled it, making you let out a moan and throw your head back onto the couch cushions. you had missed her. so, so much.
she held your thighs open when they threatened to close around her head, a particularly tantalising lick through your folds making your back arch up off the couch slightly. she smirked again, looking up at you with those eyes that held a sort of smug mischief in them. she knew exactly what to do to drive you crazy, and she was intending on doing just that.
“oh? you like that?”
you hummed softly, nodding quickly because you couldn’t quite form words but you needed her to know that you very much liked it. you felt hopeless, the desperation you felt was unlike any you’d felt in a long time. you decided to blame that on the extensive time apart, which had felt like torture.
her tongue continues its assault on you, lapping away at you like a starved woman—with the time you’d been separated for tour, you guessed she kind of was. one hand moved slightly from its grasp on your thigh, and she circled your clit in a way that made you throw your head back and let out a low moan. she felt your thighs shudder slightly around her head, and you felt her lips twitch up against her sensitive skin. she knew you were close, she could feel it.
she spoke, still pressed up against you so she could go right back to eating you out after she got the words out, “that’s a good girl, cum for me.”
at her words, you let out another loud moan, head falling back onto the support of the couch cushions as your long awaited release came over you. you had just spent months without her, without her touch, without her love, and you felt the relief wash over you at the knowledge that you were finally close to her again.
billie smirked again as she felt you cum on her face, her tongue riding you through it as she lapped up your juices. she had missed this.
you breathe deeply for a moment, before finally bringing yourself to lift your head up off the couch cushions and make eye contact with her. she had that proud smirk on her face as she watched you from in between your thighs, “feel good, pretty?”
you manage a small grin at her, “very much so.” you paused, looking at her for a moment as you recovered from the intense feeling of your first orgasm from her in months. you spoke again, a playful smirk playing on your lips. “my turn now.”
after all, the night was young. the night was young and you were finally together again, you had all the time in the world.
this is unironically the first smut i’ve ever written sooo i hope you liked it…
#୨ৎ lyd writes#billie eilish#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish smut#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish x you#hit me hard and soft#happier than ever#when we all fall asleep where do we go#billie eilish fluff#smut#fluff#billie#x reader
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september in paris (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: none (for now lmao)
summary: your September vacation in Paris is polluted by the sight of sickeningly loving couples— what happens when you finally find someone who shares your frustrations?
word count: 1,715
a/n: currently in Paris for vacation right now lol, so enjoy this little drabble that I wrote for that occasion!! tihi
I hate September. It's either when school starts, or when I'm on vacation having the time of my life.
Now, don't get me wrong; I love vacations. Especially since my recent get-aways have taken place in France because my father got a job there. And who am I to say no to free accomodation in the most romantic city in the world?
But being single in the most romantic city in the world is absolute torture— why had no one bothered to inform me of this?
September was the peak month for tourism in Paris; the place was swarmed with couples, either completely fresh or on their honeymoon. Everything about it had me rolling my eyes— My favourite activity was to sit at different cafés around the city, giving rude stares to the happy couples passing by. I suppose it made me feel better about myself... although I would never say that out loud.
My activites of bitterness would eventually end up being interrupted by a young man who sat down next to me one morning, completely uninvited, with a newspaper in hand. Something about it felt old-school, classic, but also annoying— did he not know that you shouldn't seat yourself this close to a stranger? Especially when there are other seats around?
I moved my nasty glare from the young couple passing us by, now watching the man next to me push my morning tea to my edge of the table to make space for his coffee. That was my last straw; "Pardon?"
He looked up from his paper, quirking a brow at me. "Yes?"
Okay, good-- I was relieved to hear that he spoke english. To demonstrate, I glanced around the practically empty café, waving my arms at the vacant spaces with a rather outraged look in my eyes. "Are you maybe new to Paris? There's a certain etiquette at cafés' here. You don't sit down next to strangers like this when the whole place is available,"
The man shrugged, folding his newspaper in his lap. "I think it might be you that is new to Paris," he said, his strikingly green eyes finding mine with intense challenge before he continued; "My family are patrons of this place, and this is my table. And it was my mother's before me, and my grandfather's before her. I thought I was nice by not telling you to move, but I most certainly could?"
My jaw fell, outraged. "What is this, middle school? There aren't assigned seats and tables out in public!"
"Actually, there are. And you're sitting at my table," He reached for his cup of coffee, not breaking eye-contact. "Care to move?"
Something about him was terrifyingly intimidating, but there was no way in hell I'd back down. Just as I was about to open my mouth and snap back once more, I couldn't help but take a few seconds to take in the sight of him; he was wearing a suit at around ten in the morning, his brown hair was gelled back tastefully, and I recognized his enormous watch from the ads around every bus stop in Paris. Was that seriously the newest Rolex? My mouth started to feel drier than a desert— who was this guy? Had I not seen him somewhere before?
However, no matter what watch he wore, whether his mother and grandfather liked this table too, he still deserved to be told off for being such a stuck up prick. "I'm not going to move. I was here first,"
The stranger rolled his eyes, letting out an obnoxiously loud sigh. "Could we please not do this before the clock has even struck twelve? Be a good little girl and scram, please,"
"Excuse me?" Everything about this was outrageous; did he really think he could talk to me like that? "Sorry, who the hell do you think you are?—"
My rant was quickly cut off; "Hold on," he said, holding out his finger in front of my face as he watched a seemingly new couple pass us. His mouth curved up into a sneer, shaking his head in dismay as he glared at them; "I think these couples all around town are more annoying than you, can you believe it? They're fucking everywhere." He eventually turned back to me, now holding his hand out for me to take. "I'm Roman. And you?"
Roman? I was getting closer and closer to piecing together where I had seen him before— it was right on the tip of my tongue. Introducing myself, I warily shook his hand, unsure where this was leading to. "At least we can agree that the lovebirds are polluting the city,"
Roman's eyes rounded out, an amused look shimmering in his eyes. "I think I said that exact thing earlier today... Funny,"
It was clear that the atmosphere had changed. This would be the first time I ever bonded with a stranger over something so bitter. "Earlier than this? What were you doing up so early?" I decided that I'd entertain whatever this was.
With a shrug, Roman ran his fingers through his styled hair, checking whether it was still holding its form or not. "Just a meeting. I think I slept through most of it, actually,"
I held back a snort, nodding along with words. Then suddenly, it was as though a lightbulb appeared above my head— meeting? Just as I was about to ask him what he did for work, a rather loud bus passed us, and I couldn't believe who it was on the ad on the front of it.
Blinking rapidly, I kept waiting for the face on the bus to morph into someone else. Were my eyes deceiving me? Unable to keep still, I moved to the edge of my seat, my lips parting in shock at the realization that the man on the ad was the same as the one sitting next to me.
Godfrey Industries - A Brighter Tomorrow. Beneath the bold text was his name, along with the title of world's youngest CEO.
"There is no way in hell," I mumbled, turning to Roman with a horrified look on my face.
In turn, he bit back an obnoxious smirk. "I fucking hate that bus,"
"It has your face on it,"
"I hate that picture,"
I shrugged; "Why? It's a good one,"
Raising his brows, Roman snickered, leaning back against his chair with a casual manspread. "What, so now you say I look good? Quite the girl I've met on the streets of Paris,"
"Not on the streets," I mumbled, reaching for my cup of tea. "That makes me sound like a hooker."
"... You're right, my bad," Roman watched as I sipped my drink, and he put away his newspaper on a chair close by. "I bet a hundred bucks that your face will be all across the next bus that passes, though."
My brows drew together, huffing as I put down my tea. "You might as well just give me the money right away, then,"
"Why?" Roman tapped his fingers against the table, fighting the amused smirk that threatened to creep up his face. "You're telling me you're not a model?"
I was very happy to have swallowed my tea already— I would've spit it out on the whole pavement, if not. "No, I'm definitely not a model. Just visiting the city," Was he flirting with me? I couldn't quite put my finger on how we had gone from bickering to whatever this was. "So... Roman Godfrey, world's youngest CEO, what brings you to Paris?"
Roman chuckled as he reached for his coffee; "I'm here to roll around in self-loathing at the sight of happy people in love. You?"
I couldn't help but giggle— weirdly enough, I was starting to like this guy. "I have a week before I go back to college, and I have family in Paris. Just taking liberties of free accommodation, I guess,"
"I see," Roman nodded, his green eyes engraving themselves into my mind. "Would you maybe also like to take the liberty of a free drink later tonight, then? I have my own booth at Club Palais down by the Arc if you want to stop by."
Why was I getting so flustered? I wasn't about to show it— I somehow managed to look away from the most charming man I had ever met, hoping my hair would cover the blush creeping up my cheeks. "It seems you have your assigned seats all around town,"
That made him laugh all over; I couldn't help but notice how much I enjoyed the sound of his amusement. "Yeah... But the difference is that you're very welcome to take a seat, this time," Roman finished his coffee, grabbing his newspaper as he got up from his chair. I couldn't help but notice how tall he was— how was he even a real person? He reached into his blazer, pulling out a sleek, beige card. "Here's my number. Feel free to call if you can't make it tonight, or if you ever feel bored during your week here. There are many fun things to do in this city... Especially when you're two."
I accepted the card between my fingers, trying not to think too much about the feeling of his hand against mine. What was that last sentence supposed to mean? I didn't have time to think it over— "Will do,"
Roman nodded, the corners of his mouth curving upwards into a satisfied smirk. "See you, then,"
Just as he was about to leave, another sickeningly sweet couple passed us. Roman gave me a look, imitating the urge to throw up, and I had to clasp a hand over my mouth as the couple turned towards us at the sound of my laugh.
Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, shaking his head as he let out a hearty chuckle, disappearing into the crowd of people passing the café.
I couldn't help but sigh-- I still hated September. But this vacation seemed to turn into the best time of my life, just as I had predicted it to be.
#roman godfrey#hemlock grove#bill skarsgård#roman godfrey x reader#x reader#bill skarsgard#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#freeform#vacation!au#bill skarsgard x reader#hemlock grove freeform
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