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adelliet · 2 months ago

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Wolverine x f!reader

STRIP-TEASE SECRETS

Summary: You work as a stripper at a local club. It's a normal busy Friday, but fate has other plans for you, when you spot a handsome man, sitting at the bar.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, anxiety, nicknames, stripper work, inappropriate touching, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p i v), creampie, flirting, sensitive themes, aftercare

A/n: Hi pookies! I want to apologize for any grammatical mistakes or nonsensical sentences. English is not my native language! Thank you and enjoy <3

"Come on dude, when was the last time you had a good fuck?" Wade asked with a bit of curiosity in his voice, but all he got was a frown that instilled horror. "Ugh come on sugarbear! You'll enjoy yourself for a while and then you'll be out in no time!" Wade didn't take Logan's warning look seriously and still tried to convince his annoyed friend to go to the strip club with him.

"This is not for me" Logan finally answered, although it was a very cutting and strict voice. Wase sighed again, but decided to keep trying. "Okay, well, at least walk me in and then do whatever you want. You know I'm only going there for Vanessa" Logan knew how much that asshole loved the stripper. He talks about her all the time. Although Logan had seen her just few times, he felt that she was a perfect match for Wade, the two complement each other and, after all, opposites attract.

"Fine, but I'll just accompany you, nothing else" Logan hated when his roommate brought out his kind and helpful side. He hates to admit it, but he really likes that bastard. As soon as Logan said that, Wade’s eyes lit up and he formed a huge, slightly terrifying, grinning from ear to ear. He looked like a kid that got a lollipop.

He recklessly lunged at Logan and hugged him tight, really tight. Logan grunted in annoyance and held his hands to his sides as he was trapped by the male body of his roommate. After a few seconds, Logan tried to break free from the hug, but it wasn't that easy. After a few more stronger attempts, he finally jerked and pushed Wade away from him. It was a bit of a personal move, but Wade didn't mind, he was still smiling like a clown.

"Okay, I'm going to change and then we can go" Wade said contentedly and immidiately disappeared into his room. Logan sighed and shook his head. Wade is really a teenager trapped in an adult body and everybody knows it.

When they both arrived at the parking lot right next to a small building with a pink glowing sign that has a silhouette of a naked woman on it, Logan was already fed up. Even if you were blind, you could tell by the loud music coming from the bulding, that this was some kind of club. Women's laughter added spice to it and especially the last hint that it was a strip club.

"So, we're here " Wade excitedly pulled out the car keys and checked on Logan, who didn't look thrilled twice. "Come on, don't be so grumpy" He nudged him lightly with his shoulder, which only made him angrier. Wade just let out a disappointed sigh as he still tried to talk Logan down with his puppy dog eyes.

"There's no fucking chance you're going to get me there" Logan growled angrily, looking away from Wade, so he couldn't manipulate him anymore with his stupid face. "Sure, of course…only that there is a bar with drinks and many types of beer” Wade smirked, knowing the alcohol would work on Logan, and it really did. "Seriously?" Logan jerked his head and looked at Wade. "Yep, there's ale, lager, stout, porter and many more. There is also way more stronger liquids and-" "5 beers and I'm leaving" Logan made a statement and left the car in rapid speed. Wade happily pulled down a fist and quickly ran after Logan.

Loud music tickled your ears while you were backstage, getting ready to replace your colleague on the stage. “Girl be careful, they are quite…aggressive today” Vanessa advised you while you were adding last details to your makeup. You looked at at Vanessa with worried expressions through the reflection in the mirror.

Fridays were always the roughest. The club was full of men of all ages, married or single, no one really cared till' they paid, but you kinda did. Whenever you saw a guy with a ring on his hand while his tongue is almost falling out and his eyes are full of lust, it made you disgusted, but you can't just get out of the role and stop dancing. This is just one of the negatives of being a stripper.

The positive thing is money, lots of money. Plus, there are specific rules there that customers must follow, otherwise they will be kicked out by security guards. One of the biggest and most important rules is not to touch the dancers. You'd be lying if you said you've never been touched by a guy while dancing, but luckily, it wasn't anything serious and when it was, security always took care of it. You and other strippers kind of came up with this rule and it was a damn great idea. It gives you a little peace in your head, knowing that your back is guarded by massive bodybuilders.

"Like every Friday" you sighed and pressed the lid back on the lipstick. Vanessa just nodded in agreement and gave you a supportive look, as you got up from your chair and walked over to her. "Oh and my boyfriend is picking me up today" "Wade?" you added and Vanessa's eyes immediately lit up. You've never actually met or see Wade on your own, but you heard about him a lot. Vanessa just won't stop talking about him and even tho it annoy you sometimes, you find it sweet. She is so in love and you hope that one day, you'll have what she has.

"You remember!" she smiled and you chuckled. "Of course I remember, you talk about him every day" Vanessa nervously laugh and blushed, as you accused her of something, that is clearly obvious. She then gave you apologetic eyes. “Don't worry Van, I don't mind” she immidiately smiled and breath in to say something, but before she manage to do that, you heard your name and command to go on stage.

You took a deep breath and gave Vanessa one last warm smile, before opening the curtains and revealing yourself. You put on your typical sexy smirk and slowly walk over to a shiny pole with grace. During your cat walk, you already obtain a lot of whistles and creepy growling.

You looked around, smiling at the men sitting around you, staring at you like hunters for their prey. When you got to your pole, you gracefully turned around it, showing your back and your ass, receiving another wave of whistles. You always loved this beginning, when everything was just getting started, but you adored the dance itself the most. It didn't even matter that all the men admired you and wanted to fuck you, you lived for pole dancing and for money.

The music slowly started to pick up, and so did your movements. You wrapped one leg around the pole and turned slightly on it like a swan. Your hair fluttered softly with the movement of your head and body. On every beat of the song, you made some sexy move, rough and nimble, that drove all men crazy. Your confident face was the icing on the cake for the whole dance and before long, you had a pile of cash on the stage.

Your dance moves were getting hotter and hotter, your facial expressions were extremely flirtatious and you were enjoying it as much as you could. Money poured in to your feet, some of the men stood up and reached out to touch you, just a little. You played with them, the power on the stage always gave you plenty of confidence and the sight of the males beneath you, made you feel mighty.

All the stress and fear of men was gone and the whole area, where you were present, smelled of feminism, strenght and bitter sex. All signs that gave men erection in a second. You yourself noticed that some of them already had a tent in their pants, but you couldn't decide if you were flattered or disgusted. Either way, there was no time for this, there was no time to think. When it comes to striptease, thinking always goes by wayside.

The song was approaching an end, your choreography was slowing down but still had some sort of passion and spiciness in it. You bite your lips as you were laying on your back, your hand traveling from your neck lower and lower. When your hand was close to your sensitive spot between your legs, your eyes quickly flicked at the bar. It was a natural instinct to find out if the men at the bar were also looking at you, or at your colleague, that was dancing on the other side of the club.

Your eyes caught a target. There was only one man sitting at the bar, middle-aged with long brown hair and a beard. You didn't have time to analyze him in more detail, but nevertheless he stuck in your memory, because he was really looking at you, but not in a creepy hungry way. This guy had a neutral expression, not moving a single muscle as he watched you. This was not usual.

You had to admit that he caught you off guard, but you still had a few seconds left to complete your choreography, which you did perfectly. In addition to loud applause, whistles and male deep shouts, you also received another avalanche of money. You smiled as you bowed and went to grab the money, but one of the men crawled onto the stage and aggressively grabbed your hair.

You immediately dropped the money and gasped loudly, trying to break free from the man's grip, but luckily the security guards stopped him, before anything worse could happen. You moved away from the edge of the stage with lightning speed and when you saw those hungry faces, your confidence disappeared and was replaced by fear again. Anxiety began to besiege you and you quickly ran backstage in a panic.

"Hey hey hey darlin' what's wrong?" Vanessa immediately took care of you and stroked your back while you still had terror in your eyes. "You were right, they are aggressive" you said and Vanessa hugged you, rubbing your hair and calming you down. Sometimes you think you weren't made for this. Yes, you love dancing and yes, pole dancing even more, but you also have these anxious moments whenever something like that happens. Being a stripper means having courage, strength and not being a pussy, but you don't exactly have these properties.

"It's okay, I'm fine, I just had to calm down a bit" you broke free from the hug and smiled softly at Vanessa, who didn't quite believe you, but didn't want to burden you with questions. "'Kay but you know what would help? A really strong drink." you rolled your eyes and shook your head in disbelief, as Vanessa tries to make you an alcoholic again.

"No I'm serious! You will relax and it'll help you!" you knew she was right, she is always right. Whenever you get this anxiety attack, or whatever that is, alcohol is the best cure. "Thanks Van" she gave you a warm smile and then checked the clock. "Shit! I gotta go" her eyes widened and quickly grabbed her purse. "Bye darlin' be safe!" she shouts at you as she was disappearing into the distance.

You were shaking your head as your lips left a soft giggle and decided to take Van's advice. You just quickly check your make-up in a mirror, if it's not ruined and then change your clothes into a less revealing suit. There is another, kinda strict rule, that dancers are not allowed to change into non-striptease clothes, until they left. It was a little uncomfortable, walking around all those men in the sexy revealing fabric. You were little too close to them and since almost everyone were higher than you, even though you were wearing heels, you felt like a sheep among wolves. Easy to catch and security wouldn't even notice you among the heavy crowd.

Still, despite the danger, you decided to risk it and go to the bar for a drink that would boost your energy. You were already thinking which one you'd choose, when you noticed that there was no one sitting at the bar, not even the guy whom you saw during your seductive dance.

You felt little dissaponted, because he seemed fine, even though you saw him just for a second from a distance. You wanted to get to know him, but fate apparently had other plans. You didn't bother with it for a long time and sat down on one of the barstools.

"One martini please" you raised a finger at bartender Kevin, who is a gay therapist for strippers and a very good friend. "Someone attacked you again?" he asked as he was cleaning glass with a cloth and analyzed your frustrated face. You felt chill down your spine, as Kevin said again. The worst part was, that it was true, this isn't the first and probably not the last time some asshole touched or attacked you while dancing. On the other hand, this is the best reason and excuse to get drunk.

“Okay baby don't worry, I'll double the gin shot for you” he smiled and you smiled back, even though you were completely bushed.You turn around on your seat and by the time Kevin was preparing your drink, you watched your colleague dancing on the stage you were just standing on few minutes ago.

She was breathtaking, her moves were graceful and delicate and her make-up perfectly suit her dress. She was your inspiration and you watched her not only because she danced amazingly, but to catch some of her moves and add them to your own choreography. She dazzled you so much that you didn't even realize how quickly time passed and Kevin already slide your glass to you.

“Thanks” you whisper to him and nod your head while you took a sip from your glass. Woah, it was really strong. You winced, squeezing your eyes as you felt the burning liquid sliding in your throat. When it finally reached your stomach, you put the glass back on the bar table and breath out. This was exactly what you needed. But before you could take another sip, you were interrupted by a large male hand on your waist. You jumped on your seat and looked behind you, surprised and confused at once.

Anyway, the sight did not satisfy you at all. An older man around 40s with a long beard smiled at you like a creep. He walked around you and sat right next to you at the bar. Unfortunately, Kevin was on the other side of the bar, far away from you, talking with someone and it looked like a long conversation. "So babygirl, how much?" he scurrilously asked you and stroked your shoulder with his finger, which you jerked instantly.

“Excuse me?” you offendedly furrowed your eyebrows and checked the guy up and down. When you notice a golden ring embracing one of his finger, it made you sick. "Come on sweatheart, I got the money just tell me how much" his deep voice makes your heartbeat quicker, but not from excitement, from fear.

"Sir I don't know what you're talking about" you knew very well what he was talking about, you just hoped he meant something else. "Come on, don't play dumb" you knew it's getting serious when you felt his hand on your thigh, squeezing and massaging it. Your whole body was surrounded by goosebumps, your hands and legs started to shake.

"Sir, get your hand off me" you still tried not to fully panic and convince the guy, but you slowly started losing hope. "Or what?" he smiled mockingly, sliding his hand upwards. You breathed in and closed your eyes, still trying to stay calm and act formally. "Or the security guards will kick you out" this warning didn't scare that creep at all, on the contrary, it made him laugh even more. "Oh really? You think they'll see you through all the people in here?" the answer was clearly no, you knew that and that made you feel even more stressed.

You nervously look around, trying to find even one security guard nearby, but it was in vain, everyone was paying attention around your fellow dancers and not others. "Don't be scared, we're going to have a good time together" he squeezed your thigh again, really hard this time, making you gasp. "Sir, I'm begging you for the last time, take that hand off me and go away" you voice was shaking, clearly showing that you're afraid, but there was also a clear warning in your voice, which he still didn't take seriously.

"And I'm telling you for the last time, be a good girl and do what I tell you" he hissed through his teeth. You could notice he was getting angrier that you were still refusing him and you've already thought about a plan how you're going to ran away from him. Suddenly, you heard another man's coughing behind that bastard, who was still holding your leg tightly.

You both looked after the sound and reacted differently. When you realize it was the guy that watched you during your dance, your eyes lit up with hope and a tiny smile appeared on your face. That idiot next to you just gave him a nasty look and groan. “Get lost” he turned his head back to you. "I'm afraid you're sitting in my seat" Your hero snarled, still standing behind the creep. "Not anymore, now leave us alone" you just watched them with anticipation.

"You know you're breaking a rule?" this was the last straw for that asshole. He swiftly turned around and stood up, so that he was on the same level as the pretty looking guy, except he wasn't. The married one was smaller and he just embarrassed himself by this move. You tried your best not to laugh. "I'll repeat it for the last time, get lost" the creep growled angrily, as if it was supposed to instill a fear.

"I'll also repeat it one last time" that handsome suddenly grabbed the other man's shirt and pulled out iron claws from his knuckles, making you jump in shock. He was almost touching the tip of the claws by his neck, just a centimeter in and he would cut his throat in a half. "You broke the rule, don't touch the dancers" that idiot was shaking and sweating in fear, you'd bet he just pooped his pants.

"So it'll go like this bub, you'll apologize this lady, you'll leave and you'll never come back" you couldn't help but smirk and blush a little, his voice was strong and low, he sounded like a wolf and when you were thinking about it, he kinda looked like one. His haircut was formed into ears and his jawline was surrounded by beard, it really gave him that wild-animal look. You had to admit it, it looked really hot.

"Understood?!" he jolted with the guy, when he still didn't receive a response. "Y-yes" that bastard quickly nodded and as soon as he was released, he quickly and quietly apologized to you and bolted from the club in lightning speed. All fear and worry washed away from you, when that wolfie, who just saved your ass, sat down next to you.

You admired him for a sec, before you finally gain enough courage to talk to him. "Thank you" you beeped quietly but he heard you very well. "Sure thing, these guys are disgusting" he looked to the direction that creep ran away and then, without any warning, looked into your face, making eye contact with you. You got lost in his coffee brown eyes almost instantly. For a while, it felt like there was nothing and no one but just the two of you. The music was muffle, vision blurry except from him.

You shook your head a little when you notice his lips moving, clearly saying something to you, but you were too lost in your thoughts. He had to repeat himself again. "You're pretty good dancer" he waved at Kevin to take his order. His simple compliment, which definitely wasn't your first one, made you butterflies in your stomach.

"T-thank you" you stuttered a little, earning a small scuff from him. "I'm Logan, by the way" he finally introduced himself and before you could say your name too, Kevin interrupted you. "Okay Logan, what would you like?" "One beer" Kevin nodded and handed him a green bottle. It took Logan one swift move to open that lid, you knew you would struggle with it for at least fifteen minutes.

You watched him drinking from that bottle, his head slightly threw back, his adam's apple sticking out of his neck and whenever he swallowed, you could hear it and even felt it inside you. Now you felt like a freak. You tried to remember him, analyze every detail on his body and face, because even though you had barely met, you wanted to engrave his sexy face in your head, just in case. Who wouldn't want to remember such a handsome man, that you don't see every day.

"What's your name?" Logan caught you lost in your thoughts again and brought you back to earth. Fortunately, you finally heard his words and answered him. "Y/n" you smiled proudly, when you finally manage to say something without stuttering. "That's a lovely name" he smirked and took another sip from his bottle, while watching you. God this guy was something else.

"I haven't seen you here before..." you break the eye contact out of nervousness and start making circles around your glass with martini. "Maybe because it's my first time here" you look at him surprised. "Really?" he nodded. "Yeah, no offense but this is just not for me" well, you felt a little offended but you also knew how he meant it.

"Right, then why are you here?" "I'm just waiting for my friend" you paused for a moment, squeezing your eyes until you put puzzles together and realized. "Wait, are you Wade?" he looked at you with confused look and furrowed eyebrows, like you just said the nastiest insult that exists.

"No? Why on earth would you think that?" his sudden change in voice caught you by surprise, but when he realized the impact his words had on you, his eyes softened and he cleared his throat before explaining himself. "Wade is my friend, the one I'm waiting for..." you formed your lips in an O shape, when you realized. This made much more sense, not that Van wouldn't pull out this beast, but he's definitely not her type at all.

"...well, was waiting. He texted me few minutes ago that he's goin' to sleep at his girlfriend's house, so I don't have any reason to stay here anymore” he took another sip of beer and you gave him a disappointed expression. "Right..." you sigh and finally took a sip from your own drink too. "Well, maybe I could find a reason to stay" you harshly turned to face him and had to smile, when he clearly indicated that the reason was you.

"So, tell me something about yourself" he asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing. You were already red as a tomato when Logan showed interest in you, even though it was just a normal question without any other intention. It was hard to describe what you felt, but it was some kind of excitement, joy and, above all, safety. You don't even remember how long you felt like this with a man.

"What would you like to know?" you raised your eyebrows flirtatiously and took a sip from your martini, while maintaining eye contact with him. It was a pretty hard task, but you managed to do it ravishingly. "Everything you want me to know" he gave you something between cute and devilish smile, that sends incredible waves of pleasure right between your legs. You placed your glass back on the desk and moved your ass a bit, to lower the vibration in your panties.

“Well I suppose you're wondering, how I got…here” you motioned to the club around you and Logan nodded in agreement. You clear your throat before starting to tell your life-story, which almost no one knows, but you feel a special energy from this man that directly forces you to confide in him.

“My dad left me when I was five and my mom died two years after, so my uncle, who happened to own this club, took me into care” you were too nervous to talk about your difficult childhood and looking into Logan's face the whole time. But whenever you looked at him, he gave you one hundred percent attention and his eyebrows were a little furrowed, how much he concentrated on your every word. "A few years later, I got acquainted with pole dancing, which I started to enjoy and I even won many awards" you giggle as you remembered your cups and medals lying in your room. "But then we had a problem with money, mainly me so I started working here and since then, I was hooked and never let go"

After your lifestory-telling, you finally worked up the courage to look at Logan, who was giving you sad expression. "I'm sorry..." he dropped his head with a deep voice, before an awkward silence appeard for a moment, where only the background music could be heard. "You don't have to, I'm fine!"

You smiled at him and you were truly having a good time right now. You were sitting next to a handsome guy, who saved you from a creep just few minutes ago, you're telling him about yourself without being afraid or regretting it afterwards, you don't need anything more. "Fine? Working here is fine?" he was looking at you through his bushy eyebrows, little frustrated. You didn't know what to say. "Look, you look like a beautiful and talented girl, who has much better potential than parade around in front of horny guys"

"It's not just that..." you lied to yourself, it was exactly about that. That pole dancing was only a bonus, that actually keeps you in this career. “Oh really?” he angrily propped himself up on his elbow and watched you deeply. You looked at him cautiously. "Come on, you know there are much better places than this" he confronts you and you already knew everything he was saying, but it was just hard to suddenly leave when you've already put so much into it. "I know, but it's hard to throw away a thing that's been a part of your life for such a long time" you played with your glass and felt tears creating in your eyes.

"I see..." he sighs. "But change is nice sometimes” he gave you a comfortable smiled and you returned it to him. Maybe he was right, maybe this was all fate and a sign that you should pack it in and finally do something more formal and finally have some pride. "And what about you Logan? What's your backstory, hm?" you turn your whole body towards him, making him scoff at your question. "Well...this is gonna take a long time”

A few hours passed and you knew Logan so well,that it felt like you had known him for years. You told each other stories, trite and funny, told some basic facts about yourselfs and drank one shot after another. Your head was spinning a little, but you still managed to speak and hear clearly.

"You know, you're the first mutant in my life" "Oh really?" he gave you a cocky smile and you nodded. "Yeah, it's great" Logan was already noticing the effect the alcohol had on you, that's why, when you reached for another shot, he grabbed your hand quickly, before gently putting it onto your legs. "I think that's enough" you whined and gave him puppy dog eyes, which did indeed work, but Logan cared about your health more.

"Do you have a ride home?" you shake your head. "Alright, come here" Logan stood up from his seat and offered you a hand for help. You refuse it at first, but when you almost fell down as you climbed off from the barstool, you actually appreciated his help. "Easy baby, easy" you heard his subtle addition of the nickname very well, but you were too drunk to react to it.

Logan held your waist tightly to keep your balance, as you slowly but surely pushing your way through the crowd towards exit. "Do you have everything you need?" Logan looked down at you and it was this moment you actually realized, how tall and big he was. You looked up at him and nodded your head in amazement. His hand on your weist was massive, and so was his body, that entirely hide yours. This was the security you always wanted.

When you finally made it out of the club and into Logan's car, you were asleep within minutes. You didn't perceive your surroundings, nothing at all, all you had in front of you was darkness and dreams. Logan watched you for a moment, before he started the engine and drove away from the parking lot.

A ray of sun shining right into your face woke you up. You groaned and rubbed your eyes until you opened them. Surprisingly, you didn't have a hangover and felt fresh, but there was a small issue, you had no idea where you were.

The blanket you were covered under was not yours, the bed underneath you wasn't yours and last but not least, the room you were in was definitely not yours. Where the fuck are you?!

However, before you could analyze the environment and form an opinion about where you might be at, your answer came, knocking on the door and then slowly opening it. The cracking sound was killing your ears. "Hey, did I wake you up?" Logan asked softly, as his eyebrows rised and he was half out.

You were too stunned to speak, so you just shook your head and gave him a cute little smile. "Good..." he whispered silently and walked fully in. You watched him as he approached you, with a glass of water in his hand. "Here, though you'll be thirsty" he handed you the glass and stood in front of you, waiting until you hydrate yourself.

"So um...you were pretty drunk yesterday" you almost choke as those words tickle your eardrums. "D-did I say something…inappropriate?" you asked cautiously with concern in your voice. "No....no" he scoffed and shook his head, making you exhale from the relief.

"You just kept telling me how handsome I am" your eyes widened and you immediately started turning red. You gave him an are you serious look, but unfortunately, he wasn't kidding. You put the glass next to the bedside table and dropped your head into your hands. "Sorry" you whined into your palms, earning another scoff from Logan.

“Don't apologize darlin'-" he cut his sentence with coughing, which helps you think about other things than how you totally embarrassed yourself yesterday. "Um…it's pretty late for breakfast, what do you want for lunch?" he quickly changed the subject, but you didn't forget that nickname he just called you by. "Lunch? No wait I don't want to bother you" you got out of bed and only then you realized, you were still in your sexy outfit and forgot to change at the club.

Logan's eyes quickly checks you out before looking away like a gentleman, even though he literally saw you in this dress yesterday. He cleared his throat to ease the awkward situation, but that didn't really help. "Um I'm just gonna-" you wanted to walk past him but he grabbed your wrist tightly and pushed you back in front of him. "I won't let you out with hungry stomach" he said while directly watching into your eyes. It felt like he hypnotized you, so you agreed.

"There are some of my t-shirts in the closet..." he said, scratching his neck as he made his way to the door. "Then come to kitchen" these were the last words before he closed the door behind him. You stood stiffly in place, trying to process this whole situation.

It felt like a dream, yesterday you were at a bar with a funny, gorgeous man and in the morning, you wake up at his house, dressed and safe. What kind of fanfic is this?

Putting on one of Logan's dark green shirts, that reached your knees, you carefully walked out of the room into, what appeared to be the kitchen. Logan wasn't there though, but you quickly turned behind you, when you heard sounds of fabric and floor creaking. Logan stood up from the couch and checked you out again. He don't even try to hide it.

"It suits you better than me" he pointed at you, making you blush and giggle. You felt like a 10 years old again, the most comfortable feeling. Logan walked over to you, not too close but close enough. You were glaring at him, your neck hurting from keeping your head up, looking into his coffee coded eyes. "What do you want for lunch?" "W-what?" you got a little lost in your thoughts and had to recap what Logan just asked you.

“Oh…I don't know, anything” you didn't want to look demanding and at the same time, you didn't want to busy yourself with talking, when you could watch this handsome guy. "Have you ever had sushi?" you furrow your eyebrows, trying to remember the taste of it. "No..." you shake your head, surprised by yourself that you haven't had that before. "Really? You have to try it" Logan raised his eyebrows in disbelief and made a decision.

He walked around you and picked up the phone, ordering a sushi and some sodas with it. During his call, you had plenty of time to admire him again, how small that phone looked in his hand. How did his hair look so silky and divine, what kind of shampoo is he using? And his eyes? God his eyes are your new favorite series.

When Logan hung up, you had to come back to reality and act like a normal person, not some creep who constantly admires him. "Now we'll wait" his corners lifted up and you had to lean on the counter to keep your balance. Does he even realize what he's doing to you? Or is it just a hangover from yesterday...hard to say.

“So you're telling me you've never had sushi before?” Logan leaned against the counter you were also leaning on, making the distance between you smaller. "No!" you laugh out, making Logan shake his head in disbelief accompanied by a tsk tsk tsk. "I can't believe it" he dramatized the situation and you made an ironic-offended expression. You were holding eye contact for a few seconds, before both of you broke and laughed.

"Um...by the way" you said when you calmed down a bit. "I wanted to thank you for everything, actually" you nervously played with your fingers, waiting for Logan's reaction. You were stressed over nothing, because Logan used a warm smile to let you know, that you had nothing to be thankful for.

Suddenly, his phone rings, announcing that the food is here. "And now you gonna find out how heaven feels like" he winks at you as he leaves the apartment quickly. You giggle and cover your face, feeling the heat coming from your cheeks. You must look like a tomato right now.

It wasn't long before Logan returned with a brown paper bag. He looked so excited. Without any further words, he quickly came to the counter, unwrapped the sushi and opened it. Before you blinked twice, he was already holding one roll between his fingers. "Open your mouth" he guides you, waiting for your lips to part away.

You obediently did as he told you. Logan slowly pushed the roll into your mouth, his eyes twitching between your lips to your eyes. You wrapped your lips around his fingers, sucking the remains, until a pop sound came from you. He jerked his head to get over his dirty thoughts and eagerly waited for your reaction. You kept him tense for a while, chewing loudly with a focused expression.

A proud smile started forming on his face, when you close your eyes and groan in pleasure of the taste. "How's it?" he asked to make sure you 100% liked it. "It's...delicious" he clapped his hands and screamed in excitement, right after you said that. He was satisfied and glad, throwing one sushi in his mouth as a reward.

"Damn it's really good" you giggle as you keep chewing. "I know!" Logan happily shouted and grab another roll, waiting for you to take it from his fingers. You did, sucking on his fingers again and couldn't lie, teasing him a little by that move. “Mhmm” you grunted and threw your head back. Logan watched you, taking a deep inhale, trying really hard not to create unchristian scenarios in his head, but you were making it really hard for him.

“Come here, you have to try it with this sauce too” he waves at you, giving you a signal to come closer to him. You didn't hesitate any further and spawn right next to him in a matter of seconds. Even though you were already close enough and able to grab the sushi roll yourself, Logan took it into his own hands anyway.

He grab the roll, dip it into sauce and put a hand underneath it, to not soil the floor. He turned to face you. "Mouth" Logan ordered again and you opened your mouth with a smirk on your face, keeping eye contact with him the entire process. Once again, when his fingers touched your lips, you cupped them and sucked everything off them until you pulled away and made a little POP sound.

You hummed in pleasure again, the taste tickling all the taste buds on your tongue and you absolutely loved it. "That's my favorite food from now" Logan chuckled and watched your hand reaching for another roll and effortlessly put it into your mouth. You looked up at him, smiling as you chewed.

Suddenly, Logan stopped smiling, so did you. He slowly and gently grabbed your chin and used his thumb to wipe a bit of the sauce that was left on the corner of your mouth. He sucked the finger, grinning as your eyes were full of lust, anticipation and hungry.

"Fuck" he groaned before grabbing your jaw and kissing you. It was passionate and long kiss, just to test how you'd react, but you responded very positively. You kissed him again, wrapping your hands around his neck while tasting his thin lips. His hand slides around your body, stopping at your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. You rose on tiptoes and moaned into his mouth, as he squeezed you again.

"You have no idea how long I've been craving for this" he growled between breaks in kissess and pounced on you mercilessly. The kisses were hungry, rough, and he even bit you from time to time, which only made you much more hornier. You could already feel the wetness in your panties during the kissing and your need for Logan was becoming unbearable.

Your fingers slipped into Logan's hair, finally feeling the softness of his hair. Sometimes you tugged them, as revenge for Logan squeezing your waist. After a long make out session, he lowered himself down, so that he could grab your legs and wrapped them around his pelvis. You giggled and gasped a little as you felt Logan's already hard cock trapped in his pants. It automatically excited you that much, that your wet core started pulsating.

Logan put you on top of the counter, messaging your thighs while still passionately kissing you. You were already whining silently, because of the incredible vibrating you felt between your legs. You instinctively started moving your hips against the flat surface, but you were literally longing for any friction.

Logans hands started exploring your body, squeezing some spots, since he couldn't control himself anymore. He stopped kissing you and moved his mouth to your neck and at the same time moving his hands underneath your, actually his, shirt. You petted and scratched Logan's head as he left purple bites on your neck.

His hungry bites forced you to throw your head back, leaving more space for Logan's teeth and tongue. Your whining started getting louder and you had to bite your lips to keep your voice quiet, but that didn't help much. "I wanna hear you darlin'" Logan grumbled and slid his finger under your panties. You instantly threw your head back and looked down, unfortunately didn't see his hand under your t-shirt, so his next moves were surprise for you.

He really did want to hear you, because without any warning, he quickly put the fabric to the side and started rubbing your wet folds. Your passion got the better of you and you couldn't keep quiet any longer. Your jaw fell open and your hips were keeping moving to the rhythm of Logan's fingers. He couldn't help himself and pulled away from your sore purple neck, looking into your pleasent face. Your voice and the way your body react to him sends countless hits to his twitching dick.

"You like that baby?" he devilishly smirked and inserted one finger in, making your breath catch in your throat. You had to drop your head and close your eyes to keep your senses, but Logan just made it harder for you. "Look at me" your nails were digging into Logan's hair, his finger twirling inside you in a rapid speed. "Look at me" Logan's voice was way more strict. He didn't relay on his voice anymore, so he grabbed your chin with his free hand and made you look up at him. "That's it...just like that" he bit his lips, seeing you like this is making him leaking with precum already.

Your eyes were keeping closing and opening. You were trying so hard to look at Logan but also wanting to enjoy the pleasure this man was now giving to you. If that wasn't enough, he added another finger, stretching your walls even more. You wanted to throw your head back so badly, but Logan wouldn't let you. He wanted to see your face when you'll come onto his fingers. He giggled as your moans started getting louder and your legs were shaking. He knew you were close, you both knew that.

But this guy was a complete monster, because as soon as your walls began to clench against his fingers, giving clear sign you are about to cum, he removed them. You gave him a confused and disappointed look while he just grinned devilishly and licked all the juice off his fingers. "You taste so fucking good" he mumbled and closed his eyes. "I need more" he got on his knees and chuckled slyly, watching you through his eyebrows.

The realization, what he's about to do, made your core pulsate even more frequently. You inhale deeply, tightly holding the edges of the counter to get ready for what's about to happen. He grabbed your panties by his teeth and elegantly take them off, revealing your wettness. His eyes widened a little and a devilish grin appeard on his face.

"Bet you taste better than sushi" you giggle and shake your head at his question, but that laugh of yours didn't last long. Your soft laugh transformed into a loud moan in one second, as Logan disappeared under your (his) shirt and you felt his hot tongue against your folds.

You finally had the freedom to throw your head back and give in to your body's natural response to Logan. You grabbed his head and gently scratched him, as he was softly licking you. Whenever his nose accidentally bumped into your sensitive clitoris, you tugged his hair and strongly bit your lips. Logan was attentive and therefore his "accidental" bumping into your clit started being more frequent.

You moan his name, tug his hair and tense your legs, whenever he made any interaction with your clit. But he also added his skilled tongue, which he subtly inserted into you. In that moment you drop your hat and shut your eyes, already aware that you won't last long. His tongue was twirling and curling inside you, moving up and down and tickling your walls. Your hips started ridding against his face, not beacuse you wanted to, but rather needed to.

Everything was connected, Logan's tongue makes you ride his face, while this made Logan groan against your pussy and that sends pleasent waves of pleasure right into your clit. His sideburns were tickling and prickling your delicate skin, which added even more adrenaline to your blood.

"Logan" you whine and moan his name, feeding his need to fuck you properly. His tongue picked up incredible speed and when he felt your walls clenching again, he added even more. He hold your thighs, to hold your body still in one place. It took a few more flicks with his tongue to make you shake, throw your head back and release all the tension you've been suppressing in yourself until now. You came all over Logan's face, before shame washed over you, as you came back to your senses.

You've had sex with men before, but none of them ate your pussy like Logan did. When his face found itself in your vision again, you started turning red as you noticed your juice remaining on his lips. "Don't be shy honey" he cupped your cheek and smiled. "You definitely taste better than sushi" You laugh and shake your head, the awkwardness disappearing when Logan said these things.

After that, he didn't even let you breath in and glued his lips to yours, making you taste yourself. He immediately wanted to fight with your tongue, so he gently squeezed your leg to make you moan, thus you improved his way into your mouth. Your tongues battled for dominance in which Logan was clearly winning. Your saliva and the remnants of your cum made a strange salty mix, that you both couldn't get enough of.

You wanted more, you wanted to see him in his full glory, so you grabbed the edges of his shirt and pulled it up. Logan helped you take it off and when he did, he didn't even give you a chance to get a good look at him, before starting to stuff his warm tongue inside your mouth again.

Still, you wanted to feel him somehow, that's why your hands explore his upper body, whining as you felt the muscles and sixpack, which unfortunatel, you couldn't see yet. Your fingers prints sends shivers down Logan's spine, breaking his last straw by that. His instincts began to prevail over his mind from now on.

You started being more excited and your pussy started throbbing over nothing again, when you heard a sound of unbuckling belt. It didn't take long before you heard the impact of not only the belt, but the fabric as well. You immediately realized that Logan had also taken off his pants as his erection began poking you into your inner thigh, dangerously close to your, once again, wet core.

"You're driving me crazy" he said between the pauses in the kiss and you couldn't properly answer, so you just moan softly. The feelings were from both siides, he was also driving you crazy. His disgustingly massive hands surrounded you almost entirely and his body was like a gigantic shield. You wanted nothing else, than to be fucked by this beast.

Although Logan is quite patient, your moaning and body language bothered him so much, that he decided to finally relieve you both and do what he had to do. He gently grabbed your hips, pulled out of the kiss and checked his way into you. Your heartbeat was racing and whole body shakes with impatience.

Suddenly, he looked at your face and without any warning, he started slowly pushing into you. Your jaw immediately dropped and your eyes tightly shut. The stretching was painfully pleasurable, finally feeding your hungry core. Your nails were digging deep into Logan's skin and you were worried about hurting him too much. However, you didn't know about his healing factor. The truth is that you should be the one who should be scared, because Logan's dick was nowhere near as small as the others.

"Good girl, breath for me" he was holding your body in place, while incredibly slowly pushing into you. If he could, he would've thrust himself aggressively into you a long time ago, but he didn't want to hurt you. He read from your face that it wasn't twice as pleasant, but it was just the beginning. The flow will be much better.

He was almost balls deep. You were hissing through your clenched teeth pretty loudly, trying hard to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. “Just like that princess…you're doing so good” he kept praising and supporting you to make you feel more comfortable and it worked. You felt your cheeks getting hotter and your breathing kept getting stuck in your throat.

Logan groaned intensely, when his balls finally touched your ass and he was fully inside you. It felt unreal. His dick was already touching your cervix. You knew you won't last long again. You stand no chance to ever last long with a man like Logan, it's just impossible.

"Good girl...my good girl" he put his forehead on yours, his hot breathing pleasantly shimmered on your nose. Before long, you got used to him and your natural reaction forced you to create some pressure. That's why you started moving your hips, giving Logan a clear sigh you are ready for him.

"Oh? Someone's eager huh?” he chuckled. You gave him a hungry eyes, full of lust. Logan therefore didn't wait for another signal and slowly moved his hips, as he squeezed your hips firmly. You were so tight around him, so wet, just absolutely perfect. You both felt incredible passion and heat coursing through your blood.

"God you're...fucking perfect" Logan cursed under his breath as his pace quickened and so did his pulse. The wet juicy sound began to surround the entire apartment. The atmosphere around you started to harden and the kitchen smell like sex. Your moans rhythmically mixed with Logan's grunts, creating a wonderful melody.

You hissed as Logan was hitting that perfect spot, deep inside you, that you could never reach on your own. You throw your head back, the sound of Logan's balls clapping against your soft ass only made you both more excited and eager to reach your climax.

"Yeah, just like that babygirl..." his voice was low as husky, his hands still firmly attached to your weist. He felt his cock twitch inside you while you felt your core tighten around him. Physics was no longer a burden for Logan, as he rammed into you with incredible speed and force, making your eyes rolled back. He quickly found your back and pressed you closer to his body, sniffing your honey scented hair.

"L-logan I..." you tried to warn him, to tell him that you are on the edge, but your mind was out of order to focus on words. "I know...I know" Logan dropped his head as he lost his control in his hips. From now on, he was just trying to catch up his orgasm.

Your lower belly started to rumble and you suddenly felt the outrageous urge to pee. You tensed up, every muscle in your body tensed until you relaxed and let it all out with a loud gasp. The relief was indescribable, but Logan hadn't reached his time yet.

When he felt and saw that you came all over his dick, he tried intensely to reach his climax. It only took a few hard merciless thrusts, before he pushed himself as deep as he could and growled loudly. He squirted into you, making you so full, that the white mixture was dripping from your core.

Logan moved his hips few more times to ride off the intense orgasm, before his forehead collapsed on yours. You both breathed heavily, trying to catch up your breaths and calmed your pulse down a bit. “You're amazing" he breathed out and you giggle, turning even more redder than you already were. He put a gentle kiss into your soft hair, giving you a great feeling of safety.

"You two..." you manage to let out two words, but all your energy was drained by saying that. Your legs were vibrating, evidence of a post-orgasm, feeding Logan's ego by showing him that he did an amazing job.

"C'mon baby, let's clean you up and then we'll enjoy that sushi" you laughed and nodded in agreement. Logan was still holding you, making sure you won't fall as you slowly jumped off the counter. Unfortunately, your legs were so weak that you couldn't keep your balance and Logan had to hold you really tight and really close to him.

However, you barely take a step forward, before you heard the door open. Logan quickly hid you behind him to cover you, thus sacrificing himself. After all, you had your shirt on, he was fully naked. You held tightly to his hands, which he held behind him as a support for you. Luckily, the counter was covering his most intimate part, so it wasn't that big of a sacrifice.

You froze in shock and waited to see who entered the apartment. "Oh Jesus Christ cover yourself! We indulge in this every Wednesday, remember?" you heard a man's voice, quite annoying, but you deduced from the sounds that he wasn't alone. "Is this how guests are greeted pookiebear? I didn't teach you that" you kept hearing the guy speak but your curiosity got the better of you.

You peeked a little, seeing a tall man with weird skin, but who was standing next to him shocked you more. "Vann?!" you couldn't hold back and shouted quite loudly. All attention was now on you. "Y/n?!" she surprisingly shouted back, her eyebrows rose and her jaw dropped. "Wait wait...there's a lot going on at once" that weird-skinned guy spoke again. You realized that he definitely loves talking and being the center of attention.

He ponited at Logan. "You had fun here with a random girl?" he moved his finger to Vanessa. "And you know that girl?" Vanessa nodded. "Yeah, she's my coworker" you awkwardly kept hiding behind Logan's back, which was so huge that it covered every part of your body except from your head.

You were all anxiously waiting to see what the guy would say. "Wait but you work at strip-club-" When he finally put the puzzle together, he gasped dramatically and turned to your direction. "SO YOU HAD FUN AT THAT CLUB AFTER ALL!" he excitedly shouted. "No that's not-" Logan tsk's and tried to explain himself, but it worthless, because that guy wouldn't let him talk. "You took it so far that you bring her here and fuck her in your own shirt?! WOW!"

"It's not like that-" Logan shook his head and you could tell from his tone, that he started getting furious. "Oh hell yeah it is! C'mon just admit it-" "Wade, stop it" Vanessa placed her hands on the chest of the guy, you just found out was the famous Wade Wilson. You imagined everything under his name, but definitely not this guy.

"Fine fine sorry...oh my god you guys had sushi! Have you shoved them up your ass-" Vanessa slapped Wade a little to finally shut him up and made him move forward, so that you and Logan would finally be alone. As she walked past you she quietly whispered "we'll talk about this" and went into one of the rooms with Wade.

Logan sighed in annoyance and dropped his head as he shook it. He turned to face you. "Look, I really don't want you to think I used you" he hold your hands but this time romantically. He gave you the cutest and most honest puppy eyes that a man ever gave you. "I...like you. I really do and I want to get to know you better and-" he didn't even finish his monologue, before you stood up on your toes, using all of your newfound strength to put into your feet. You kissed him, deeply, with love and with passion.

It was slow and soothing, so Logan reciprocated and you would have kissed longer, but you had to think about Wade and Vanessa. You also had to think of the cum dripping from your core and of Logan being completely naked. "Let's go" he smiled and nodded his head in the direction you were headed. Logan was the perfect man for you, he was mean and cruel to everyone while he had that sweet spot in his heart only for you.

You couldn't wait to spend much more time with him and get to know him much more deeply…

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luvvixu · 6 months ago

Text

mind over matter pt. 1

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

tags: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, miscarriage, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: y'all, im back after ghosting this page for way too lonh cuz im on my process of taking psychology. yep! this random bitch is up for being a psychologist despite her mental health place amidst the fluctuating status. and you know what's crazy? my sanity is slowly decomposing! all thanks to that one mf and one chapter in which im not going to name about (gege and jjk chapter 261)

previous / masterlist / next

it all started when he started caring for you.

after being inside an arranged marriage for like five years, satoru was confident with himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is perfectly capable all by himself.

to say the least, the start of your marriage was a definition of an absolute disaster. clearly, you and satoru were like a magnet in the same pole, it can never collide despite how many efforts you push on both magnets.

from fights, misunderstanding, up to almost divorce after you caught him kissing another girl when you decided to give him a visit during his mission.

you were hurt, yes. but you would always tell yourself that neither of you want this marriage, so being hurt when there's no even love is called invalid. yet, you can't still help it but to feel somewhat jealous because he was supposed to be your husband—but oh well.

your family begged you to stay as it was for the peace of mind and safety of your clan. you snorted sarcastically as you wondered if they ever cared for your personal peace of mind and safety also.

nevertheless, you still stay inside this loveless marriage and maintain the gojo surname. you forgive him even though he's not explaining himself nor asking for your forgiveness.

as for satoru, he's aware that he's being a dick to you. his reason is that this marriage was his least priority as it was a hindrance for him. so basically and truth may hurt, he thinks you're only a hindrance and a distraction from the higher ups.

there were times where he would bury himself with work so he doesn't have to go to his original home and breathe the same air as you.

there were also times where he spent almost two months without seeing you or even communicating with you. it was like you didn't exist in his life nor he doesn't have a wife!

although, he is not that cruel to the point that he would slam the fact in your face. no, he's just leaving his presence until you feel it yourself that he doesn't want you.

his shenanigans would continue for almost a year until that night occurred.

that night when it was your wedding anniversary and he came home very late after fighting some annoying curse. he took a swearing underneath his breath when the stinky smell of curse blood hit his nose.

scrunching up as he was about to proceed to his own room (despite being married, you two sleep in a separate room) to clean up when he saw you up by the garden. you are currently watching how your little seedlings grow into beautiful flowers swaying along the air with a calm look on your face.

your husband broke the silence by asking you what are you doing this late. in which you replied that you couldn't sleep as you slowly looked at him.

satoru watched your face, it did not even flinch with any kind of emotion—nothing, just nothing. you're basically acting like a robot to him, and he hates it.

"i'll prepare a warm bath for you." you mumbled, standing on your feet and was about to leave when he grabbed your arm.

"i heard what happened earlier." satoru said slowly, as if he's being careful on his words which was very out of character for him.

"really? great." detaching from his hold, you left him no chance and instantly left.

"y/n." the man followed you until both of you reached the bathroom. you paid him no attention and just did the usual things you do, prepare him a bath.

"talk to me, please." his tone becomes soft, pleading. turning the water on, you refused to turn around, you refused to make physical contact with him, you refused to let him see the tears brimming in your eyes.

"go on. say what you want to say. i'm listening." you mentally curse yourself for almost stuttering. satoru looked at you, eyes finally unveiling an emotion. he aches to hold you for some reason but to think that he doesn't want to upset you even further, he stops. all he can do is watch you serve him.

"do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly, his ocean blue eyes dropping on your stomach. getting uncomfortable, you tried to hide it.

splash, splash, splash, you did not answer him.

"i said, do you want to keep it?" satoru asked once again. this time, his voice was a bit louder than before.

"i don't know. do you want to?" you asked him back the question, quietly.

your husband went quiet. having a child is not part of your plan but you have to because that's your purpose of marrying him, to bear an heir. now, satoru was asking you nicely if you want to keep it when in the first place, it should happen this way.

"how many months?"

"two."

"and you didn't tell me?"

"do you want to know?"

"of course i want to know. that's literally my child in there." he pointed to your belly with a slight frustration on his face.

you did not say anything back, just continuing your duties as his wife—wife on papers. satoru was growing upset, tired, even angry at you. where was the talkative and fierce look that you have? where's the harshness in your voice? why do you look so vulnerable now?

"you can take a bath now. i'll be downstairs to prepare you dinner."

"y/n, wait—"

*slam*

before satoru could even stop you, you already left, leaving him in all silence. the husband heaves a deep sigh within him as he recollects the events prior to this day. he remembers how he acted when he discovered to ijichi that you went to the hospital and went back home with a pregnancy result in your pocket.

satoru remembers almost getting killed by the special curse when the news caught him totally off guard. you two only have intercourse when both are drunk after coming home from shoko's birthday and that's it. you also told him that you were on pills so he's relieved. but how?

what if—

no, no, no. you wouldn't. you wouldn't do that to him. you are his little loyal wife and even though both of you aren't on good terms, he trusted your loyalty…or was he? were you?

everything was so messed up that he couldn't think of anything even after taking a shower and now he's on his way downstairs to eat dinner. once he was in the kitchen, he saw you almost absentmindedly cutting the vegetables.

satoru took a seat, quietly. he was watching you as your back was facing him. his six eyes weren't dumb to notice how much weight you are slowly losing. unconsciously, satoru was clutching his fists tightly.

"i bought you your favorite milk tea. it's in the fridge, you can drink it later." your voice seemingly dropped him from his daze. satoru looked at you once more, only to find out that you're still not facing him back.

"o…okay, thanks."

minutes later, you place a plate of curry in front of him. satoru noticed that there's only one plate on the table, which was his.

"where's your meal?"

"i already ate." oh right, it was literally midnight now. you should be asleep by now, yet here you are, serving your husband. also, why does it seem like satoru was hoping to eat dinner with you? it is unusual, to be honest.

for your five years of marriage, you two would only eat together for formal matters. but with a simple domestic setting like this, there's no way a peace would occur if the two of you shared a table and a meal.

while he is eating, satoru watches you grab the said milk tea from the fridge and place it in front of him. "just leave the dishes on the sink. i'll wash them later." and with that, you left the dining room.

the food was great, it was very delicious. satoru can't deny that you're great at cooking, and you really have a specialty when it comes to curry like this. but why does this meal taste bitter? perhaps, was it because of the taste of his conscience? he doesn't know.

the six eyes ate in silence. he was planning to talk to you later about everything. but anyway, satoru has been eyeing the milk tea you bought for him. now this wasn't unusual. everytime you would go out, you would always buy him some of his favorites, mostly food.

like there's a time where you bought him his favorite mochi, crepe cakes, churros, ice creams—basically every dessert or food stalls you happened to pass by. it warms his heart, though. there's also a time where he anticipated what kind of sweet delicacy you would give him next.

anyway, satoru finished eating his meal. he was drinking the milk tea you gave to him while searching for you. he saw you sitting on the same spot when he first saw you this evening, by the patio of your garden. silently, satoru took a seat beside you with a mindful distance between you two.

"can we talk?" he started. in which you reply with a soft hum. satoru finds himself gulping, he sets aside his drink first before mimicking your posture—wrapping his arms on his folded legs.

"so um, since there's a baby now…i'd like to discuss this matter with you, properly. i was thinking about…moving you in one of the jujustu high's dorms." satoru nibbles the straw of the sugary drink, absentmindedly.

"it's for safety measures, since i'm not always at home and the risk will be doubled by now. but if you're inside the campus, a lot of sorcerers would be able to protect you." he added.

"okay." you did not even question him or even argue with him, you just simply agree without a second thought.

the man could feel himself gulping, the bitterness increasing despite the sweet liquid he was drinking. he's starting to get uncomfortable the way you are currently acting.

also, come to think of it, you agreed to temporarily live in jujustu high—does that mean you are keeping the baby? satoru couldn't help but to finally ask you.

"d…does that mean—"

"the baby has nothing to do with us. i'm not that cruel to take its life." before satoru could beat you, you already beat him.

"when will i be moving out?"

satoru gulped the growing rare anxiousness down to his throat. "probably next week. give me some time to deliver this news to the higher ups." you just mumbled an okay as your response.

"y/n, are you really sure about this?" the man couldn't really pinpoint your decision. although you made it explicit, he still couldn't comprehend you.

"i'm okay with anything. it's just you who didn't. also, if you are planning to ask me about keeping the child once again, go ask yourself instead. your decision is my decision." you replied.

satoru made a mental note that your voice sounds more tired than before. it kinda ignited something that he was not used to feeling before as literally a man-god himself who's full of pride.

"i'll be resting now. have a good night." he did not stop you, in fact, he thinks it's for the better. satoru could only follow you by his gaze as you enter your own room.

yes, your own room. the two of you did not share the same room. you two couldn't even bear to eat together, what more on sleeping together. this is not what satoru meant when he asked you to talk. but oh well, guess he should also call this a night. with that, satoru retreated to his own room and slept.

fast forward, you moved to jujutsu high and started teaching as a history teacher in a world full of related curses(suggested by satoru) since you're an alumni at this school like your husband. you like that idea too since it's a great way to distract yourself from everything.

currently, you are watching your third year students train themselves along with the second years and the first years. it was quite a good sight since all of them have a nice and strong potential as a sorcerer.

suddenly, one of your husband's students came to you with a big smile on his face. that must be yuuji, the vessel for the infamous king of curses. you always adored him, he's a good kid. but you couldn't help but to be saddened by the fact that he was literally carrying a big burden over his life.

"y/n sensei, good afternoon!" he waved at you before taking a seat nearby you. behind him, you saw his two other friends—your husband's students too.

"oi, you're being too loud." megumi scolded his friend. he was worried that yuuji's loudness was too much for your situation, your pregnancy.

"it's fine, megumi." you just chuckled. "i have some extra chocolate bars here, you three can have it." the trio thanked you happily, while you just smiled in return.

"by the way, we have a question for you, y/n sensei." yuuji said, munching on the chocolate. you asked him to shoot the question but he suddenly hesitated, looking at his two friends for support.

when he received the support he needed, he took a deep breath. "y/n sensei, we were wondering about your husband a-and…" yuuji trailed off. you already know what he meant, so you didn't wait for him any further.

"oh, i suppose you are curious because you haven't seen my husband even though i technically lived here?" the smile still lingers on your face as you watch them nod their heads.

there's something that you forgot to mention to them, they don't know that their teacher is your husband and the father of your child. you were prepared for a situation like this, though.

megumi on the other hand, could've known this beforehand since satoru took care of him during his childhood. then your marriage came through and your husband was already taking care of megumi, but it was kept a secret to everyone—including him.

stroking your six months belly, a recent hobby of yours when you want to seek some comfort. "he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower me with love by making sure that we still communicate despite his busy schedule."

"lately, we've barely talked. yet, he promised me that he will finish all of his jobs and tasks before going home to me. probably that's when our child is about to be born." you sigh just to justify this facade.

the students seem to believe your story. although you're quite worried that they might tell this to gojo and your cover will be blown. you planned to talk about this to him, anyway.

"that must've been hard, y/n sensei." nobara mumbles out of sympathy. she was worried for you and your child due to the absence of your husband.

if only they knew that your experience was much harder.

"you could always come to us, y/n sensei. we will not hesitate to help you and your child." beaming brightly as the other two agreed, you really adore yuuji. the amount of softness he gave to you is something that your future child would like to possess.

"thank you, you three. now, you all better go back to training. i will be heading to shoko since i promised to visit her." watching as the three wave their good-byes to you, you couldn't help but to feel an urge to protect them at all cost. probably due to your maternal instinct but whatever, you just hoped they would stay safe.

another fast forward, you are on your way towards shoko's office to spend your free time. knocking softly on her wooden door, shoko opens the door with a smile on her face.

"how's my little mama doing?" she engulfed you with a hug, which you returned warmly.

"good. the morning sickness did not attack me today, thank goodness." you said as you took a seat on her sofa.

shoko also commented that she was happy too. as mentioned before, stroking your six month old baby bump is a must on a daily basis. you are now used with a thought and feeling of a growing child inside you.

"and how're you and dickhead gojo?" shoko changes the topic.

"we were just fine like i have said before."

your friend heave the deepest sigh you've ever known. "just fine? y/n, do you want me to say the like i have said before too?"

"sho, ever since we knew that we're having a baby, we really tried our best to be compatible with each other. but we just couldn't." it's true, on the exact tomorrow of that eventful night wherein gojo discovers your pregnancy, he tried to make it up to you by lessening the sparkling arguments, making sure you are well feeded, and even showering you with things your eyes would have landed on.

you are delighted, of course. even though he absolutely fails his duty as your husband, at least he's trying his best to be a good father for your child. you appreciate him for that and also start to open your heart and pour a little more trust to him.

however, you are not dumb to notice the faint smell of a female's perfume and lipstick stain on his neck whenever he's with you. your heart slowly closes once again and your little more trust shatters.

once you saw yourself crying silently—feeling betrayed and angry for yourself on trusting him shortly after that. guess old habits never die, you are crying about something you've already expected. self-blaming is an understatement for letting your guard absolutely down.

gojo's still a jerk even though you had his baby. i should've expected this. having a baby doesn't mean he's going to change for me.

"we both tried, sho—we both tried. but we just couldn't." your voice dropped its tone once more. you still felt bitter even if it happened way back like two months ago.

"or he just couldn't." she snorted sarcastically.

you both knew she's right, gojo just couldn't. for years of being married, you unfortunately learned how to love a man like him who doesn't even give a one shit about you. tragic. very fucking tragic. if only you could see yourself directly, you would laugh at her nonstop.

"maybe this marriage is meant to be loveless—"

*slam!*

"yo shoko, i need—oh…" the door suddenly bursts open as it reveals your hot issue for today and probably for the rest, your husband gojo. you could tell that he was also surprised (but he shouldn't be) to see you here in shoko's infirmary.

"learn to fucking knock, gojo." shoko hissed at the white haired male.

"oh sorry. am i interrupting something?" he asked, looking at everything but you. he refused to spare you even a small glance, which you kinda do the same.

"you're not. now what do you need?" shoko was the one who answered him.

before gojo could even open his mouth , you already excused yourself. "i'll be taking my leave now. thanks for the check up, shoko." and then you left, leaving shoko and gojo with an awkward silence.

"aren't you going to talk about your business or maybe you want me to kick you out?" shoko sarcastically made a comment.

"right…" satoru cleared up his throat. for some reason, he doesn't know why he's suddenly getting iffy.

"ho…how's the child doing?"

"you have to be fucking kidding me." shoko groaned loudly. somehow, she expected this, but she couldn't believe that she would actually encounter this.

"y/n was just right there moments ago and you didn't even bother to ask her that yourself?!" the doctor could feel herself getting really annoyed. the truth may hurt but she's getting annoyed by the two of you.

fight here, ignore there—ignore there, fight here.

"bet she told you that we're not on good terms even though we really tried to work it out. yet, you're seemingly acting clueless." satoru snorted sarcastically. he's not dumb that you're telling stories to your friend, shoko.

the doctor rolled her eyes. she was this close from smashing his old friend's face to the wall to wake him up and stop being an idiot. "every fucking time, gojo. but that should not be an excuse to not talk to her. you two are still married for god's sake, and now, there's even a child along the way. i can see how much effort y/n has put in your marriage, you must do the same."

"don't you dare to compare her efforts to mine, you know nothing." he growls.

"but i sure know how shitty you are."

something inside satoru snaps. "why are you being angry at me?! you've been like this since we got married. always defending y/n, but what about me?! i have been your friend since highschool and you just met that girl! wouldn't it be unfair to side with someone whom you just met?!"

"you're asking me that when you have six eyes and yet, you can't see how much she suffers from you?!”

“but what about me? am i not suffering too?!”

how did we get here? things are getting pretty out of hand. two friends getting fired up because of a marriage that was about to fall apart. one being inside the marriage while the other one has the eye inside the marriage.

both shoko and gojo have their own sides but it all leads back to one thing, you are involved.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage. everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

“just want, what? end your marriage by divorcing her?”

the moment the last syllables escaped her lips, she already knew the answer.

“fucking gojo.” shoko mumbles under her breath. “if you want to fix your life, you better not act dumb.”

satoru was still caught silent. his wide eyes trailed on the floor and unable to move. shoko saw how she hit the point. sighing over herself, she motioned the door. “get out, gojo. if you're gonna rethink your life choices, do it in your home with your wife.”

and with that, without a word, satoru left her clinic feeling heavy and defeated.

along the hallway, he saw you. satoru saw you looking at him with horror in your eyes—for the first time in one month, you finally looked him in the eyes, but it's filled with fear and tears.

“y/n, i—” just like what he had done before he left shoko's clinic, you left without saying a word.

satoru felt everything become hazy, his knees were trembling, his six eyes were stinging, his lips were turning white on how hard he bites them. the man shuddered in disappointment, you must have heard everything.

his feet act on their own and chases you, holding you by the wrist. but it was torn away immediately after you forcefully snatched it back. while doing so, satoru didn't fail to notice the hot tears streaming on your pale face, in which you immediately wiped it out.

“y/n, i-it’s not what you think. i…” as much as satoru would like you to hear himself, he hasn't gotten the words. he was left stuck by his own thoughts and self-doubt that he puts himself into shame.

meanwhile, you thought you could've just walked away from the scene. but from the moment you hear shoko and satoru exchange heated words, it gets you glued to the floor and unable to move. despite her clinic being semi-soundproof, you hear everything. even if you're not there in the room physically, you seemingly know everything.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”

“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

“y/n,” satoru called your name. his tone was very far from you used to. you grow accustomed to him saying your name venomously, but now it seems like he's saying your name delicately and vulnerable…and satoru hates being vulnerable.

“i know what you're thinking. i accidentally eavesdropped but i didn't t hear everything.” you internally praise yourself for being a great actress. you thank yourself for not stuttering and not sounding so dejected.

but you lied. you're a terrible liar. you heard everything. you heard every single thing that escaped his lips during his argument inside your friend's office. and you feel like dying, his words hurt you so much more than any deadly curses.

“have you eaten already? do you want me to prepare you for a bath?” satoru couldn't understand why the heck you still care for your wife duties when your husband, him, just broke your heart not so long ago?

you're acting absolutely strange in his eyes and he hates it. he hates how you would just bury or bottle your emotions. you're creating a facade and a labyrinth where you keep it by yourself.

“y/n, it's not time for anything. let's just talk please.” you hate it how he sounds like he's begging, but satoru never begs.

“let’s go to my room. let's talk this out—”

“gojo sensei! yaga sensei was looking for y—oh…” yuuji trailed his tracks when he saw you and satoru together.

“dummy! why do you just yell like that?!” megumi bonked his friend's head for interrupting your talk.

wearing your mask again, you smiled at the duo then brushed yourself away from the scene. satoru couldn't stop you any further, you're already away from him.

either way, satoru does the same, he wore his mask just like you. smiling at his students, he let them navigate the way towards yaga and deal with all of his shits so he would have time and talk to you properly this time.

meanwhile, yuuji and megumi were dismissed after they had done their task. nudging his black haired friend, yuuji pointed out things earlier.

“hey, fushiguro. is it just me or did i just see y/n sensei…crying?” he questioned. megumi remained silent because even saw that you were crying—they’re also not dumb to notice the burst energy somewhere inside your body.

“whether she is or not, it's none of our business.” megumi replied.

“i know. but i couldn't help but to feel really worried about her. you know crying can be bad, especially when you're pregnant, that could stress her out.” yuuji surprisingly knows how pregnancy somehow works. but they both know he's right again. they're worried about you and your baby, so they both take a mental note to visit you later.

as you slam the door behind you, a silent sob escapes your lips as you slide your back behind the wooden frame. along with the sound of your cries, was also the sound of your heart breaking.

for some reason, the facade you just put up there early makes you suffocate. it burns your eyes and it makes you shudder in pain. the hyperventilating noise escapes from your lips while you clutch the handful of fabrics of your blouse.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”

“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

god, that feeling burns! his words keep on burning in your head, engraving the letters piece by piece. those words are not too cruel, it's a little far from what you had heard before. but it came out directly from your husband's mouth, the father of your baby.

maybe, you think you acted this way because of your hormones. but nonetheless, he's like blaming you for all of his misfortunes and that made you recall your past arguments with him before.

it was like a collection of puzzles coming up together, picturing a clear image; you were just a distraction, he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just a burden, he wanted to dissolve this marriage, you would never be his, he wanted to be free from you.

you put your hand on your baby bump, stroking it ever so gently. you swore to yourself that you would never let anyone harm your baby, you would never let this marriage harm your baby, you would never let satoru harm your baby, you never let yourself harm your baby. that's for sure.

because as the clock ticks, time passes. and as the time passes, more tears flow to your cheeks along with blood on your legs.

[part 2 is out now — ©luvvixu2024]

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #fanfic #anime #luvvixu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst #angst #gojo satoru angst #satoru angst #satoru x reader

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satorusugurugurl · 2 months ago

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The Ghost in My Apartment

Summary: When you move into your new apartment, it comes with all the bells and whistles! Garden tub, balcony, and a sexy ghost roommate!

Pairing: Kamo Choso x AFAB!Reader

Warning: language, mentions of fire, death, ghosts, ghost sex (it’s kinktober play along), smut, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4.2K

A/N Kinktober day one: Ghosts! This was so much fun! Ugggh, I love him; let me bite his cheeks!! I hope you all are ready for a month of fun!!

For as long as you can remember, you have seen things other people weren’t able to see. Those things were spirits of the dead, ghosts. You began seeing these spirits at the right age of 10 years old. Your grandma often told you that it was a blessing, a gift, and one that you often ridiculed and hated because seeing ghosts wasn’t like it was in the movies or television shows.

Some of them were terrifying, mangled, bruised, beaten, and bloody. Seeing those kinds of things when you were still growing up could leave scars. Most of the time, you did your absolute best to ignore the spirits that you saw—until you were eighteen. Around this time, the ghost of an elderly man approached you. He was kind and gentle, and all he wanted was help. So, against your better judgment and your reservations, you decided to help him.

He only wanted to tell his wife where the key to their safety deposit box was. When you went to this woman’s home, she thought you were crazy. But her whole demeanor changed when you begged her to check his rain jacket. She had gone from cold and uncaring to a sobbing mess. She thanked you profusely, offering you money, which you declined. No amount of money in the world would satisfy her more than seeing a smile on her face.

From that day on, you made it a point to try to help any other spirits you encountered. Some were far beyond to help, becoming nothing more than a poltergeist. Most of the time, you were lucky enough to help those in desperate need find their way to light.

It was sort of your side hustle. Aside from working at a local bookstore, you did everything in your power to help those you could come across or help families who would reach out to you after hearing about what you had done for others in the past. But you did your best to keep that part of your life separate from your mundane daily routine until you moved into your new apartment.

“Yes, the last family that lived here suffered a great loss. The older brother of the family was gravely injured in a fire. That’s probably why the rent has dropped so much. You know how people are with the superstitions of the dead.”

Your lip twitched as you followed the elderly woman up the stairs to your brand new apartment, which you just found out had experienced a recent death, and that meant one of two things may happen. Either the spirit of the young man who had died would still be lingering in your apartment, burnt to a crisp, or he had moved on peacefully. You wouldn’t be able to know until you took a chance to look around.

It might take a few days, but you would eventually get your answer. Sometimes, spirits were still very much like humans. They kept their distance, but eventually, they would sometimes come forth and tell you what they wanted or needed help. You had gotten over your fear of the different appearances over the last few years, but the thought of seeing a person who had been severely burned in a fire was something you weren’t looking forward to.

“But aside from that, the view is beautiful, and your neighbors are nice. I do believe you will enjoy your time here.”

“I have a good feeling about this place. I’m looking forward to living here.”

The landlord gave you the key to your new apartment and a set of rules, like when your rent was due or what day the trash was picked up. These were the typical things you needed to know in case there were emergencies or if the power went out and you needed to call maintenance. Even after she had left, giving you all of the information you needed, you found yourself hesitating to open the door.

“Please don't be lurking around. At least let me get settled in, and then I’ll let you know I’m around if you need help.” You silently prayed to the unknown spirit if one was behind your door. With a twist of the key, you unlocked the door before heading into the apartment, finding it empty except for your furniture delivered and the boxes that had been brought in. Much to your relief, no ghost was roaming around exploring the living room.

Your ghostly roommate didn’t appear at all the whole time you unpacked and got settled in, which was comforting in a way. You had hoped that they had moved on, weren’t stuck to this earthly plane, and could spend eternity in paradise or be reincarnated. No one deserves to be stuck in the same place for all time.

You were sitting on the couch to watch a movie when you realized your hope for the spirit moving on had been a dream. While you stared at the screen, you felt the couch dip under the added weight of someone joining you. Over the years of seeing these spirits, you had realized that it was best to take your time and not make a big deal of their presence. Not daring to make sudden moves, you looked at the see-through silhouette next to you.

You would have expected it to be completely charred, seeing that there had been a fire in your apartment before. The spirit wasn’t burnt or injured in any invisible way you could see. Instead, he looked completely healthy, aside from a scar running down the side of his neck and arms. You were confident that if you were to remove his clothing, he would have burns elsewhere, but that didn’t take away from his at all.

The ghost was handsome, with dark hair tied up into two buns on top of his head, and a black tattoo had been etched into the skin across the bridge of his nose. Dark eyes were focused on the television. You could hear a clicking sound, most likely due to a tongue piercing, hitting his teeth. You had no clue who he was or his name; the only thing you knew was that this man was so good-looking. It was a shame that he had been taken from the world too soon.

“Fuuck,” you whispered, biting down on your bottom lip as you took another minute to look him over shamelessly. At this exact minute, he turned his head to look at you.

From the way that his eyes went wide, he wasn’t expecting you to be able to see him. But sure shit, you were eyeing him up and down like he was a tall glass of water on a hot summer day. The ghost scoffed, leaning back on the couch and shaking his head.

“If you're going to stare at me like that, at least you could tell me your name.”

“I could say the same thing for you, seeing that you’re in my apartment.”

The ghost jumped, eyes wide as he snapped his head toward you. “You can see me?” You laughed, nodding your head. The sudden realization had your newfound ghost roommate leaning back against the sofa, processing what you had just said. “Like you can really see me?” When you nodded a second time, the spirit laughed, running a hand over his face.

“What? Are you disappointed?”

“I’m a bit relieved. Death is pretty lonely.”

You frowned, finding yourself not interested in whatever was on the television. “I’m sorry, but I’m glad I at least could ease some of the loneliness.” You stuck your hand out towards him, Telling him your name, only to have him stare at your hand with amusement. “What?” The ghost shook his head, letting out a quiet huff.

“I think it’s just cute that you think I’ll be able to shake your hand.”

“Oh, right. I'm sorry. I forgot some spirits are dead even when they aren’t all that dead-looking.”

“No, you're okay. It really was cute. I’m Kamo Choso. Nice to meet you.” To play along with you, he reached his hand out, knowing it would go through you like his new form was with every solid object nowadays.

Much to his surprise, he felt you when his hand grazed over yours. Your skin was warm to the touch, and it felt like he was touching you. His hand didn’t pass through yours. It just gripped your hand, which surprised both of you. You stared at your joined hands in momentary shock before trailing your gaze up to Choso, who was just as shocked.

His eyes seemed to light up as his grip on your hand tightened. You couldn’t help but smile, eyes lighting up as you focused on Choso’s eyes, the way they trailed up your arm before meeting your gaze. There was a spark you had never felt with any spirits, let alone humans. It was, god, something you’d only read about in books.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Choso.”

That was the beginning of your extraordinary and slightly complicated friendship. You both hung out, talking like roommates, watching television, and getting to know each other. And the more you got to know Choso, who loved his younger brothers, went to art school and loved to cook, the more your heart ached. Strangely, you mourned the man you would never get to meet. That was a strange pain that settled in your gut.

Those thoughts often find their way into your mind nowadays. You sighed, lying on your bed, watching Choso float above you. He was talking about how Yuuji, his younger brother, made a hotpot around this time of year. He went on and on about how it would be perfect on an October day like today. But you were more interested in how his arms looked in the tanktop he had on. How he appeared, and you began wondering what he smelt like, what he would taste like.

Why were all the good ones either taken, not into girls, or, in your case, dead?

Choso was just your type, and it hurt to know you would never get a chance to be with him. Choso looked down at you when you didn’t respond to his question about whether you liked chicken meatballs. When he looked into your eyes, he frowned, finding them flooded with tears.

“Well damn, I just asked if you liked chicken meatballs.” He said with a snicker, knowing damn well that was not the reason behind your tears.

“I-I’m just sad.” You whispered, wiping at your eyes.

“About what?” Choso slowly floated down, lying on the bed right next to you.

He watched as you fiddled around with your pajamas, sighing softly before you rolled onto your side, gazing into his eyes. “I’m sad about you.” Choso reached out, cupping your cheek in one hand. The chills are almost calming in a strange way. “It’s not fair.” Choso’s soul ached at the sorrow that flooded your voice.

“Honey—”

“It’s not fair that you died too soon! It’s not fair at all.” You sniffled, finally losing yourself to the swell of emotions swarming in your chest. “It’s not fair, Cho.” Those cool arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest.

“I know—but I don’t regret it.” His words struck you like icy rain that was colder than his touch. You pulled back, peeking at him as he brushed the hair back out of your face. “I died, but I managed to save my brothers. If I were given the chance to save them from a burning building, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

You had grown to know he loved his brothers endlessly. That was a God-given truth. Hell, that was one of the reasons you fell so hard for him, a ghost, the shade of a person who was no longer alive. For him not to regret his choice spoke volumes of his character—a character you would give anything to love for the rest of your days and grow old with.

“Do you have any regrets, Cho?” You asked as the tears finally stopped. “Anything you wished you got to do or things you would have done differently.”

“Yeah, there’s one thing.” He said with no hesitation.

The straightforward tone of his words had you sitting up, interested in what he had to say. “What’s that?” Choso followed your every move, sitting up, gently cupping both sides of your face as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Not living long enough to meet you.”

His lips found yours in a passionate kiss that took your breath away. You gasped into his mouth, gently reaching out and gripping his upper arms as you kissed him back eagerly. Once again, sparks, no, that failed in comparison to the feelings blossoming inside of you. Fireworks were a better way to describe the passion coursing through your body as you melted against his cold, see-through form.

Choso shifted, laying on top of you, the coldness a stark contrast to the heat radiating through you. The sensation, while shocking at first, was one you found yourself craving. So you gave in to those desires, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him tighter against you as you whimpered and cried into his mouth as he kissed you as if he would never get the chance to do so again.

You broke the kiss first, panting heavily as Choso peppered kisses down your neck, moaning and grunting against your skin as he slowly slid his hand up your shirt, trailing over your tummy before coming in contact with your breasts. You inhaled sharply as the chill hardened your nipples before his lips found yours again. Kissing you with as much passion as he could muster, making the most of his time with you, making up for the lifetime he would miss with you.

“C-Choso!” You cried out as he gently twisted and teased your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, taking in the way your body twitched and melted against him. “Fuck!”

“I regret not living long enough to do all this to you with my body.” He snugged, tugging your shirt off with your help. “I regret not getting to grow old with you, to be with you, take you on dates.” He made quick work of his shorts before you both worked at his pants. “I feel a connection with you, and I wish we would have met sooner.”

As you tugged his pants and boxers down, you couldn’t have agreed more with him. The time you spent with Choso this far has been great. You had a genuine connection, but it is only so far. He couldn’t take you out on dates or leave the apartment. So, in a way, you selfishly wanted more. You longed for it, for him.

And goddamn it all! You were going to have him in every single way you could. Hands moved, working with clothes while caressing and roaming over bodies. In all of your years, all of your previous relationships, you have never had a connection like this.

Choso shifted, looking down as he positioned himself between his legs. “You want this?” He asked in such a gentle, sweet tone.

“Yes.” You whispered, grabbing a handful of his hair and bringing him down to your mouth, where you kissed him. “I want you.”

Not hesitating in the slightest, Choso moved, pushing that of his cock into your wet and willing pussy. You gasped, eyes going slightly wide at the cool sensation of him sliding inside of you. It was like temperature play but better. Choso growled in the back of his throat, a sound that chills up your spine. You want to hear more of the sounds he would make. You wanted all of him at once.

Not wanting to wait around or hesitate, you began to rock your hips up, pushing him further inside of you. The ghost above you shivered, falling slightly on top of you, but he braced himself on his arms to not crush you. There is a certain satisfaction in the way that you rolled your hips against him and how he reacted to your slightest touch.

“Holy fuck—Honey, that feels so good.” He whispered as he fisted the sheets, his cock throbbing inside of you. “P-please don’t stop.” he banged as you both began rocking and rolling against each other in the most sinful of ways.

You shuddered, gripping his arms as you rocked against him faster. Arching off the bed, the head of his cock hit all of the right spots deep inside of you, drawing out the pleasure, drawing out sounds from your that you had never heard before. It was perfect; Choso knew every part of your body, like where to kiss and how to move. There was a spark, a connection, and it made your heart ache because you knew you were meant to be together.

That realization, the truth, hurt so bad it killed you. You wanted to cry to curse the world for taking him from you before you two even met. The pain almost overrode the pleasure, but it was Choso’s kisses that made you release the grip of sorrow you were slowly clutching onto.

“I love you.” His voice was as smooth as honey. “I love you so damn much.”

You kissed him, slowly losing control of your rocking and gripping, allowing Choso to take the lead. He gripped the sheets, holding onto them as he slammed into you, rocking the bed, causing the sweetest sounds of pleasure to leave your mouth. Those sounds were like music to his ears as he shuddered, losing his self-control.

“C-Cho! L-love you!” you cried out, gripping his arms tighter. “L-love everything about you!”

Lips connected again as the room seemed to spin, and the bed creaked louder with each powerful thrust. Your moans grew louder, and the sound of skin slapping against your skin grew louder as your head writhed against the pillow. Choso cupped your breasts, squeezing them as the coil in your abdomen tightened, growing tighter and tighter, making your toes curl as you gasped out loud. Choso knew you were close.

You didn’t have a chance to warn him because he fucked into you, stealing the words from you. The orgasm was so intense you screamed, gripping onto him, crying out his name as you soaked his form and the sheets underneath you. Watching you come undone, crying out his name, had a warmth growing in his chest, one he hadn’t felt in so damn long.

Choso felt himself release, hips stilling as the overwhelming pleasure had him throwing his head back. God, he wished he was alive; he wanted to be inside of you, filling you up, making love with you. But he was sure these were fragments, memories of the past allowing him to remember what it felt like, but this felt so much better. This was real and true, but also painful because he could never be with you however he wanted.

“Cho~” your breathy whisper drew him back to the present, “mhmm~”

“You’re so perfect.” He whispered, pulling the sheets over your bare body. “I would have loved you in so many ways.”

You hummed, cuddling into his body, humming as the chill cooled your body down. “You already do, and I love you too.” Choso frowned, stroking your air as you slowly fell asleep in his arms.

That familiar warmth settled in his chest, and he knew it was his time to go. There was a voice calling him, a light drawing him in. He didn’t want to leave you, but the warmth in his chest grew hotter and hotter, and the once solid form you could touch was nothing more than air. Choso frowned, watching your arm slip through his body, landing on the mattress below you.

Choso sighed slowly, sliding out of the bed. He approached the balcony where the bright light was waiting for him, calling his name. But before he stepped outside into it, he took one final look over his shoulder, smiling sadly at your sleeping form.

“I’ll see you in the next life. I love you.” Choso stepped into the light with a gulp, leaving the apartment behind.

The following morning, you woke up, not finding Choso anywhere. You searched and called out his name for close to an hour before coming to the sudden and cold reality that Choso was gone. Part of you was happy that he could move on and find his peace, but the selfish part of you wished he would have stayed. But what you wanted didn’t matter; he was gone, hopefully at rest now, leaving you to mourn a man and relationship that never was.

That pain sat in your stomach like a rock, weighing you down for weeks. You tried to find joy in the little things in life. Reading your favorite books, watching your comfort movies, and making your favorite foods. But nothing seemed to fill the void your ghost roommate left behind.

This went on for a few months, and you finally started feeling like yourself again. The pain was still there, of course, but it no longer weighed you down like a ton of bricks. You felt more relaxed leaving the apartment, finally healing. You were less sad about Choso finding peace and more happy that he was finally at rest.

His warm, dark eyes were on your mind as you pulled out some cookies from your oven when there was a knock on the door to your apartment. You hummed, taking off your oven mitts and opening the door to find a young man with tufts of pink hair staring down at you. He smiled, bright eyes twinkling as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his yellow hoodie.

“Hi! Sorry to bother you. My name is Itadori Yuuji, and I used to live here.” He swayed back and forth, pursing his lips together in thought. “I uhm—well, my brother told me about a fire safety box he hid in one of the vents, so we came to collect it if that’s okay.”

“Oh,” this was Yuuji, Choso’s younger brother. Finally, getting to see the young man in person felt surreal. “Uhm—”

“If it’s not a good time, I can come back later.”

“No, no, sorry, uhm, I just—it’s nothing. Please come inside.”

Yuuji grinned, nodding his head, turning towards the stairs. “Hey, bro! She said it was okay!” You stepped further into your apartment, hugging yourself as Yuuji took his shoes off. “My brother is right behind; he just takes longer to climb the stairs.” The clanking of a can hit the floor as a shadow stretched out across the floor.

“I just got out of the hospital. I think that’s a valid excuse.” That voice, you knew that voice. “I’m sorry for the intru—” That voice you loved, the one you thought you would never hear again, trailed off. “Have we met?”

Kamo Choso, the ghost you had fallen in love with, stood in front of you, very much alive and well, gripping a cane. He had burn scars just like his ghostly form, but he was here, solid, and no longer saw thought. Seeing him, hearing him, and smelling the musky scent of spices and amber had your heart crawling up your throat as you stepped forward. Your eyes frantically searched his face, making sure he truly was there, alive and standing in front of you.

“Not formally.” You whispered, grinning as tears blurred your vision as a certain softness crept into his features. You held your hand out, telling him your name with a smile.

Much like the first time you met, Choso stared at your hand with tears in his eyes before he took it. This time, instead of being like ice, it was as warm as could be. That sensation had him smiling as he shut his eyes as if this wasn’t the first time you had met but a reunion.

“I’m Kamo Choso, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I couldn't agree more.” you motioned towards the kitchen. “Well, Choso, could I offer you some cookies?”

“I like the sound of that. But in exchange, would you let me take you to dinner sometime.” His grip on your hand tightened. “I can’t get over this feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

“Maybe from a dream.”

Choso beamed down at you finally releasing his grip on your hand as he followed you into the kitchen. “Well, I hope that dream becomes a reality.” You bit down on your bottom lip with a knowing smile. That dream was going to become a reality because this was a love that transcended both life and death.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago

Text

Leaving V

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You hate clay courts

It's not often that two people from the same country end up in the finals for the French Open but you and Carlos Alcaraz have taken the Rolland Garros by storm.

You weren't the biggest fan of clay courts. You didn't like the way they felt under your feet and you knew you were a bit hit and miss this entire tournament.

You always managed to win though, by the skin of your teeth sometimes. But a win is a win and both you and Carlos were representing Spain at the finals.

He was against Zverev and you were against Iga.

She was your usual partner in training, the world number one. Her coach was your coach and he had purposely decided to sit this one out because he knew he couldn't coach both of you fairly for this final.

Iga was nice though. She'd always been nice and welcoming and she helped you settle in Poland and even introduced you to the girl that would eventually become your girlfriend.

But all that was off the table as soon as she first served.

Iga was brutal on the court and you'd always known that. She was a great player, a perfect player most of the time but you had a different play style than her.

She had it all planned out. She had a style and she stuck to it.

You were a bit more reckless. You were younger and you hadn't quite worked out the way you preferred to play.

It left you in a few tricky spots throughout the Rolland Garros but you'd pushed through like you're pushing through now, getting a volley going with Iga and trying to work out how to get her to make a mistake.

You're a bit of a wildcard sometimes. You've been known to feign one way and hit the other.

The audience is used to Iga dominating a final, especially this one, but you're holding your own very well. You're battling against her well though, holding your own even as you have to regain your footing a few times on the clay ground.

It's decided, as you stumble forward and just hit the ball over, you hate clay courts with a passion.

But, still, as the minutes go by, you find your rhythm.

A rhythm that lets you try one more reckless manoeuvre that completely catches Iga off guard. She can't return it and you fall to your knees in shock.

You've just won.

You hadn't gone into this final thinking you would win. You'd gone into it hoping you'd win, for sure, but you thought that you didn't actually have a chance.

You get to your feet shakily, stumbling over to the net to shake her hand.

"Next year," She says, bringing you into a hug," Let's go for the doubles together, alright?"

You nod. "Sounds good."

You thank the umpire and you go around shaking the hands of all the ball girls. When you were younger, at one of the professional tournaments, you had been a ball girl. You knew what it was like.

Iga got given her prize, holding it up for the crowd and then you received the cup, smiling brightly in all the pictures.

You were covered in red clay as you made your way through the corridors.

Your family was waiting for you.

You went into Alexia's arms like you always did and her arms wrapped around you, completely familiar and welcome. You lean into her, sagging in relief as someone takes the cup from you so you can hug her properly.

"I'm very proud of you," She whispers," So proud of you."

"I don't like clay courts," You say back and you can feel the little chuckle of amusement from her.

"I know."

"I'm covered in muck."

"I know but you can go and shower and then we'll head back to get some food."

You giggle as you pull away. "I'm so hungry."

Alexia laughs too. "I know."

Dinner is perfect when you've got the trophy sitting next to you and Alba insisting on having dessert for a job well done.

Mama cries, like usual after you've done anything even related to tennis. Alba makes fun of her.

Alexia sneaks into your hotel room.

You both lay on your bed together, looking up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know anything about tennis," Alexia admits," Nothing. Nothing at all."

You flick your eyes to her. "What?"

"I don't know anything about it apart from you hit the ball back and forth."

"Ale...I've been playing tennis for years."

"I know and I still don't know anything. Isn't that scary?" She's laughing a little bit. "Years taking you back and forth and getting you new rackets and outfits and watching you win. I still couldn't tell you anything about it."

You're laughing as well, almost hysterically laughing. "Well," You say through your giggles," I must be the better sister because I actually understand the rules of football."

She swats at you with an eye roll. "Football's easy to understand. You don't get sister points for that."

"But still," You say," I've got the most amount of points."

"No you don't!"

"Yes I do!"

The thing about growing up with your sisters is that the three of you were hyper-competitive people, to the point that the 'Sister Championships' happened every year complete with a shared spreadsheet to keep track of everyone's points and a strict set of rules on how they could be earnt.

"I do," You say, bringing up the table on your phone to show," I've got ten more than you because I looked after Alba's dog when I was last home."

Alexia swears. "Damn it."

You grin. "I'm going to win this year."

"I've still got time. I'll let Alba have my window seat on the flight back tomorrow."

You shuffle closer until you've got your head resting on her shoulder. "We're not flying home tomorrow."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because Carlos has won so it means Spain has won the men's and women's singles. There'll be lots of PR stuff for me to do with him."

"And why can't I go home?"

"Because I need someone to keep me sane, Ale."

She thinks for a moment before nodding. "That'll earn me at least fifteen more sister points."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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donatellawritings · 7 months ago

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thoughts on best friends dad!rafe!

introducing bfd!rafe & dolly!reader

there was pathetically sick part of rafe that got off on knowing that he still had it — especially with such a young girl like you who was an absolute knockout, absolutely eager and willing to bend to his every whim. he had watched you bloom into the young woman you were today, but the moment you turned eighteen, you became a bit more forward with your intentions. from wearing skimpy bikinis whenever you joined his sweet son on family trips, to the thin satin dresses that tented with your hard nipples on thursday dinners — you made sure to always look your best for mr. cameron.

but what made rafe melt was the way you were so immersed in him, you completely dismissed how his son was head over heels in love with you — and you can call rafe a sick man, but he always craved being the center of attention, no matter the costs. his little boy would just have to move on, not that he ever stood a chance against his overpowering and domineering father.

so, when rafe’s son asked if you could spend the summer at tannyhill, rafe was eager to oblige, masking his reasoning with ‘wanting his next of kin to be happy at home’, despite his true intentions of having you surrender all of yourself to him, now running rampant is his tainted and somewhat deranged mind.

on the first night of your extended stay, you found yourself sat beside your best friend’s father, your tooth-achingly sweet and doting best friend seated directly across from you, completely oblivious to the way his father stared at you with that same sense of longing and desire.

you liked mr. cameron — he was always so sweet to you, he bought you the finest birthday presents, complimented your girly, but borderline inappropriate outfits, and he always seemed to know exactly what you needed at any given time.

and maybe, just maybe there was a part of you that knew he felt the same way about you too.

carelessly leaning over the dining table, you fought back a knowing smirk as your swollen tits bulged against the hem of your sleeveless romper, the ribbed fabric clinging to your warm frame as you reached for a piece of bread, “thank you for having me, mr. cameron,” you sang, your sweet voice all light and airy as you glanced at the older man, your heart jumping as you caught his eyes stuck on the fat of your plush ass cheeks that managed to swallow the romper.

masking his faux pas with a forced clearing of his throat, mr. cameron licks over his lips with a smile, “well — ahem, f’course, my wife and i really appreciate how good of a friend you’ve been to our boy, isn’t that right, honey?”

rafe knew exactly what he was doing, his trained blue eyes carefully taking in the way your plump smile faltered into a brief frown and how the sparkle in your eyes dimmed. your bubble of security had been popped in that very moment as you tugged on the top hem of your romper, your nailed fingers lightly grazing over the baby pink bow that had been sewn between the valley of your breasts.

your oh so pretty and fake smile only intensified as mrs. cameron sauntered into the dining room. you absolutely hated how your shared likeness towards mr. cameron had soured your perception of the clueless woman who still viewed you to be the daughter she always wanted.

placing a manicured hand atop of mr. cameron’s shoulder, you watch as the woman leans down to capture rafe’s lips in a quick kiss, “mhm. you know that we love having you over, sweetie. you keep us on our toes, dolly” she laughs, gently nudging the apple of your cheek as she makes her way to her seat, directly across from mr. cameron.

dolly — the dear nickname that you’d been given by mr. cameron, you’d always been so wet behind the ears, dainty, and entirely too vulnerable. but, it didn’t feel right coming from her.

answering with a short nod, you are a bit too eager to change the topic of discussion, a silent huff of stress leaving your faded plum stained lips as your best friend furrows his brows at your standoffish behavior, “y’okay?” he mouths, softly nudging your shin with the tip of his converse.

“i’m okay,” you mouth back, a soft smile on your pillowy lips as you steal a quick glance at mr. cameron who catches your sneaky gaze, sending you a quick wink as he takes a sip from his glass of chilled red wine.

licking over your dry lips, you swallow thickly, popping a warm and fluffy piece of bread into your needy mouth as mr. cameron’s long and slender leg brushes against yours. fighting back a smile, you remain silent as mrs. cameron enlightens the table about her new endeavors at cameron development, your eyes glazed over as you quietly hook your leg over his firm thigh.

honing your focus into chewing the piece of bread in your mouth, you watch from the corner of your bambi eyes as rafe inconspicuously slides a large hand over the smooth skin of your waxed leg.

now lost in the sensation of mr. cameron’s hand gently kneading soothing circles around your ankle, your eyes widen as rafe’s voice cuts into your dazed state, “y’seem pretty sleepy over there, dolly — everything a’ight?” he questions knowingly, his buzzed head tilted to the side as his pink lips part in anticipation of your next words.

feverishly nodding, you send rafe a forced courteous smile, “yes, mr. cameron — just sleepy,” you answer politely.

returning his attention to his son and wife, rafe keeps a tight hold on your small ankle, the cold bite of his wedding band digging into your warmed and bronze skin. you always loved to prance around tannyhill barefoot, you’re pretty pink toes on full display, ever since your younger days.

and rafe was painfully reminded of that, a feigned smile of interest on his handsomely structured face as he gave your cute little toes a gentle squeeze, every now and again.

all while his poor son and unsuspecting wife sat and ate their overly priced steak dinner.

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #bfd!rafe #dolly!reader #rafe x reader

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envy-of-the-apple · 5 months ago

Note

pretty please—a beauty & the beast au except reader is the beast??? and pretty boy gojo/geto is oh so helplessly 'trapped' in said 'beast's castle? and reader (or shall we call her Ms. Beastie) wants nothing to do with 'em and is sulking about her curse. she very openly tells him to leave if he'd like, but for some reason he sticks around like some bugger. i'd love to see your take on this au, please and thank you :3 it would also be very funny to throw furry accusations at gojo/geto, but maybe that's js me loll

oh! how about Miss beast thinks Gojo is beauty, but he's actually Gaston.

You find him out in the snow, half-dead, surrounded by wolves. Maybe its your remnant of humanity left, but you take him back to your castle and nurse him back to health.

As soon as he wakes up, he's a nuisance. Cocky, full of himself. Even when he's too weak to feed himself, he's shamelessly flirting when you're feeding him yourself. At times, you have to hold yourself back from dumping the soup on his face.

You hate him. Mostly because he reminds you of yourself. He's egotistical and selfish, and what you used to be like before the curse. It's jealousy too. He has flawless skin and isn't covered in disgusting hair.

He mocks you, lying to you. Tells you you're beautiful when you and him can both see the claws. The teeth. You hate him.

You've had enough when he tells you he loves you.

You kick him out when he's fully healed. He stays right outside your gates for hours, but you don't care. You need him gone. You needed to forget what you could have been.

He leaves later that day; he returns with an army.

He's talked about his village before, but you never once thought he's something like a prince there too. Fighting against Gojo would have been easy. Trying to hold off 20 men with spikes and daggers?

You stand no chance. You're tied up like the animal you are, dragged out of your castle like a hostage.

He's not scared of you. That's another thing you hate about him. From the day he first saw you, he's never been afraid. Even when your growl and thrash within your binds, he coos like you're a sweet puppy.

His endgame becomes clear when he brings in the witch you saw a century ago. She looks worse for wear, courtesy of Gojo's minions. It takes next to nothing for Gojo to get her to undo the spell. Your binds get looser, as do your clothes. your fur disappears, its replaced by skin. Human skin. You're back.

A few days ago, you would've been happy.

Now, reduced from a beast to a mere pet, you can only watch in horror as Gojo's grin gets more feral.

You realize too late that it wasn't a curse, it was protection from the real beasts.

#no one's slick as Gojo #no one's quick as Gojo #yandere jjk #yandere #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru #No one's hollow purple is as big as gojo

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pretty-little-mind33 · 7 days ago

Text

old man!Logan x human fem!reader

Summary: You think Logan hates you but all he's doing is saving you from himself. He didn't think his plan would explode in his face.

Genre: hurt and comfort, angst

Warnings: takes place during Logan, age gap (reader is 25 and Logan is ancient), violence, blood, injuries, swearing, protective!logan, reader is a nurse, reader is a human, Logan isn't super nice in the beginning, Laura is iconic, character death (not reader or Logan)

LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

For the very first time in what felt like years, you felt safe.

There was no more running, no more chasing, and no more constant gunfire. There was just the smell of homemade cherry pie and laughter. So much laughter. Laura had smiled for the first time since you'd met her, happily eating what was most likely her first family meal. Charles was leaning into playing house, passionately talking about Logan as if he were his actual biological son. And even Logan seemed more at ease, occasionally allowing his pain to slip away and let his eyes crinkle.

You look down at your corn and hide a smile, listening to Charles and Logan's banter. You'd been taking care of Charles for around a year now, which meant constantly being in his company and making sure you did exactly what Logan wanted.

When it all went to shit, you'd been forced into running away with them. But, you weren't a mutant like Laura or Logan, and you weren't close with any of them like Charles and Logan were with each other, so you were still on the outside no matter what. No matter how much Charles insisted he needed you and Logan needed you, you knew Charles was only making you feel better and less useless.

Logan didn't need you and he certainly didn't want you or your help. He'd made that abundantly clear over the last year.

"Laura, here sweetie," you whisper, handing her her fork. She looks up, her mouth full of mashed potatoes, and sends you a familiar glare. You see the same one Logan wears all the time. You smile, shaking the fork and she listens, using it instead.

You look up, catching Logan's intense stare and your breath catches. You wonder if you've overstepped in playing the mother figure. Laura is his daughter, he should have the chance to parent her. Your eyes widen slightly and you look away.

The Munson's had generously opened their home to you and your little "family" and after dinner, Kathryn Munson hands you a pillow and some blankets, smiling warmly as she tells you there are two guest rooms upstairs. "Thank you." You smile, watching as Laura follows her son Nate upstairs like a lost puppy. You wonder if she misses the company of other children and the thought pulls at your heartstrings.

"Seriously," you say, turning to look at Kathryn, "I cannot thank you enough."

She smiles, shaking her head, "No need. We're happy to help. You have a beautiful family."

Kathryn squeezes you in a warm hug, one that feels like one a mother would give to another mother and you suddenly feel like the worst fraud. You pull away, straining a smile as you whisper your goodnight.

You head upstairs, crossing paths with Logan as he leaves Charles's room. His face is hardened in a pained expression and he coughs. He's been looking worse and worse. You wish you could just help him. You wish he'd let you. You're a nurse after all. Your heart leaps and you turn your head in his direction as he walks by.

"Logan—"

He stops, turning to look at you but he doesn't speak. He looks almost angry that you've addressed him. You wince and no sound comes out when you open your mouth. It's pathetic how nervous he makes you and how, despite that, your heart can't help but yearn for him.

Logan's gaze softens for a split second, but then he recovers and says, "Check on Charles in an hour or so." He pauses but no please or thank you follows. Logan leaves without another word and your chest tightens.

An hour or so later, you've checked on Charles and Laura, and you're now staring into the darkness of the room. You're curled up in the bed, holding a blanket, as you replay every interaction with Logan you've ever had. You hate how he constantly plagues your mind. How he's constantly lurking in the shadows and twisting at your heart. It's unfair, considering you're sure he never thinks of you.

You hear the creaking of wood from behind you and you sit up, squinting into the darkness. You see him in the shadow and it's humiliating how well you recognize him just by his silhouette. "Logan?" you whisper, sitting up as the blanket falls from your legs. He doesn't answer. He doesn't even move.

Your heart thumps in your chest and maybe it's the emotions from everything and his lack of acknowledgement but your mouth moves without thinking. "Logan, I know you don't like me very much and I understand. But I'm only here to help. I want to help you. I care about you," you inhale, shutting your eyes as you try and explain, ignoring the burning in your cheeks, "you and Laura, and Charles. All of you."

Logan doesn't answer and the room becomes silent again. You open your eyes, lips pursed. You're frustrated he's still ignoring you when you're pouring your heart out to him. You can feel the unwanted tears brim but you push them back, convincing yourself you're just exhausted and they have nothing to do with the obvious rejection you've just received.

Logan's walking closer now, his face still obscured in the light but he's breathing heavily. You sit up, squinting. "Logan?"

You hear his claws, eyes widening as you watch them become visible and his hands flex. You shoot up, tears streaming down your cheeks from fear. Sure, you'd imagined he'd hated you but this? Why is he attacking you when he knows you have no means of defending yourself? No mutation. Nothing.

Does he want to kill you?

With a roar, he lunges and you barely have time to jump away, making sure his claws only barely puncture your side. You scream, falling to the carpet as blood seeps through your shirt. You scream louder, pressing your palm to your side as you try crawling away from him, gasping for air.

Logan's hand clasps around your hair, causing you to shriek harder as he pulls you up. You can't see him as he stands behind you. It wouldn't matter anyway, your vision is blurred by your tears. You hear a grunt and then a familiar scream causes him to drop you before he can sink his claws into your back.

Laura tackles him, stabbing him in the head as she screams bloody murder. You crash to the ground, coughing up blood as you turn around. All you see is blood and you blink rapidly, registering that whoever Laura is fighting isn't Logan. Not your Logan. He looks like him but he doesn't move like him.

"Correr! Run!" Laura screams at you, flipping fake Logan around and stabbing him in the chest multiple times. You don't know how long she can hold him so you scramble up and run out into the hallway.

Bile rises in your throat as you see Kathryn and Nate on the floor, both dead. Choking on a sob, you run to Charles' room. You push the door, staining the wood with your blood. You're weak but you need to make sure Charles is okay.

"C-Charles?" you cough, spitting out more blood as you slowly become lightheaded from the pain you're in.

You see Charles, lying in his bed, the sheets covered in blood. Charles is barely breathing and even when you make it to his side, he doesn't have the strength to look at you. You scream out of pain and agony, trying to find his wounds to help him live. To save him. But, you're powerless.

Laura's screaming becomes louder and more frantic and you whip your head around. Fake Logan has restrained her and he's standing in the hall. You sob, having no real escape route as he blocks your path. Poor Laura is a mess and all you want to do is tell her everything's okay but nothing is okay. You're all being massacred.

"Please," you whimper. You don't know why you try. You don't think your pleading would work on your Logan, why would it work on one that seems to be more animal than man? Fake Logan's gaze is hard. He looks younger, and his hair is less gray, but he looks just as furious—maybe even more so.

You don't think you can hold on much longer anyway, not with the slashes in your side. They aren't deadly alone, but you're losing a lot of blood and you're exhausted. It won't be long until you eventually pass out. Fake Logan walks in, grinding his claws on the walls just to scare you. You wince, eyes blurry as you sway on your feet. You stand in front of Charles, still protecting him the best you can.

"Laura," you whisper, turning your attention to the little girl. She's still shrieking.

"Charles!" you hear a familiar voice and your Logan runs past Laura, and into the room to find Charles. Of course, you think, it's always Charles. Not that you can blame him. Logan registers the scene in an instant as Fake Logan turns. He's so distracted by your Logan that he's stopped advancing on you.

Logan's eyes dart around, wide and furious. He sees Charles, who's probably dead by now and then they land on you. You probably look like shit as you sway harder, coughing as blood drips around your hand. "L-Logan," you say, your eyes fluttering.

You hear Logan shout and then you feel like you have cotton in your ears as your vision goes completely blank. You hit the ground, registering the pain in your head for only a second before everything falls silent.

* * *

You wake up to a small hand in yours and a cold cloth pressing against your forehead. You blink awake, your eyes adjusting to the sun from outside. "Ella está despierta!" Laura exclaims, her face is emotionless but when a group of children rush up, she smiles. "She is awake," Laura repeats, squeezing your hand.

You blink, looking around at the small cabin. Sitting up, your hand moves to your injured side and feels the bandages wrapped around your torso. It doesn't hurt as much as it should for a fresh wound. How long have you been out?

"Stop crowding her," Logan's gruff voice interrupts your thought as he stands in the doorway. You jump and the children scatter but Laura stays. She looks at Logan and motions him inside. Something had changed, you can see it in the way she looks at him.

When you turn your head, you inhale. The memory of what had happened that night plays in your mind and Logan's face only makes it worse. "Scared," Laura says bluntly, dropping your hand. Logan chuckles darkly and leans against the doorframe. He looks better than he had the last time you saw him. Color has returned to his cheeks.

"I can see that," he says, "Go play, kid. I'll take care of her."

Laura nods curtly and follows her friends.

You don't want to be alone with Logan and so you stare at him. You're afraid to look away in case he lunges at you or tries to kill you or— "That wasn't me. I don't know who that was, but it wasn't me," Logan says, walking inside and sitting on the opposite bed to yours. He's meeting your gaze.

"How long have I been out?" you ask softly, ignoring what he'd just said.

Logan rubs a hand over his face. "Almost a week. We didn't know if you'd ever wake up again," he admits and your chest tightens. "Your body wasn't healing and we couldn't exactly stop for as long as you needed. So all we could do was give you medicine and keep you breathing but it wasn't looking good…"

You bite your lip, a little surprised to hear all this. "Why didn't you leave me? I must have been such a burden."

Logan's eyebrows pinch in irritation. "Leave you? To die? Is that what you think of me?" he asks, clearly the question hit a nerve. Logan looks down, knowing the answer and he clears his throat. "Laura wouldn't think of it. And I didn't either," he says seriously, catching your gaze again. "It was never an option."

"Well, thank you," you whisper, forcing a smile. You look at him. "What happened?"

Logan's face hardens. "Things went to shit," is all he says and you don't press him.

It's weird being on the receiving end of caregiving. You've been so used to taking care of Charles, you'd forgotten what being the one cared for felt like. You look around the small cabin. It feels different up here. Everyone is different. Laura seems happier now that she's with her friends, and Logan seems a little happier now that Laura is happier.

"Is that new?" you ask softly, reaching up your hand as if to touch Logan's beard. You'd noticed it immediately. The mutton-chops. A badly done mutton-chop beard—but a change nonetheless. Logan's cheeks seem to flush pink and he hides himself behind a cough, avoiding your gaze.

"Stupid kids," he mutters with no real bite behind his words.

"It looks good," you say, sitting up and looking down at your blood-stained shirt and jeans as you hold yourself up. Logan chuckles, the sound almost sounding like full laughter. "No, really," you defend, embarrassed, "you look really good. Very sexy…very…Wolverine…"

Your voice is small and you're aware of how much of an idiot you sound like. You want to crawl into a hole. Perhaps, you think, it would have been so much better if fake Logan had killed you and then you wouldn't–wait—is he moving closer? What is he doing?

You realize Logan's coarse hands are cupping around your cheeks, his thumb stroking your skin. He's never been this close to you and you can't help but look at the flex of his arms. Your stomach tightens.

Logan's nose touches yours for a moment, nuzzling, and then he chuckles. "Such a sweet girl," he whispers and his thumb moves to your hairline, touching your hair. "Always so sweet, hm?"

You blink, still frozen with anticipation.

Logan pulls away and looks at you intensely. He sounds so serious when he says, "Wolverine is gone. You understand that, right?" Your heart hammers in your chest, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze. "He's dead. And I'm not too far from that either."

Your eyebrows pinch and you shake your head, "Logan, don't say that," you whisper.

Logan's forehead rests against yours. "Fuck, you're the last good thing I had. The one silver lining in all the fucked up darkness. And it hurts. Hurts to be around you, to hear your laughter and see your smile and know I'll never be able to love you like you deserve."

He leans in, capturing your lips in his. You tense, not expecting the kiss but it doesn't take long for you to melt into his touch. "I knew you wanted me, sugar. I could feel it. I could smell it," he whispers hoarsely, kissing along your jaw, "Never made any moves on you because look at you, you're sweet like candy. Too pure for my bloodied hands."

"Logan," you whine, dazed by his kisses and confused by his confession.

"And then you almost died because of me? My claws," he growls into your skin and kisses you again. His hand lifts your shirt as he gently skims the bandage around your torso. "Those will be scars from my claws."

After he says this, he abruptly pulls away and lets out a breath as if he's controlling himself. He looks angry at himself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't do this—"

"Logan, they aren't your claws."

He sends you a warning look.

"No, they aren't. That wasn't you. So why are you blaming yourself?"

Logan huffs and wraps his hand around your head, clutching your hair in his fist. He looks like he's in pain and you don't know what. "Logan, let me help you," you whisper, pressing a shaking hand onto his chest. "I care about you. I don't want to give up on you. Please."

Your lips still tingle from his.

Logan sighs, leaning his forehead on yours. "Okay, bub," he says, taking a pause. Still, he stands and then leaves the little cabin with one last glance your way and you're left breathless and unsure.

A day later, you're sitting by the campfire. Logan hasn't been around all day. You think he's been avoiding you. The thought makes you ache as you pick at the log you're sitting on. You hear small footsteps and look behind you. Laura climbs over the log and sits next to you. She's staring at the crackling flames.

"Hi," you whisper, smiling at her.

"Daddy te ama," she says bluntly. She looks at you, her gaze hard.

You tilt your head, biting the inside of your cheek. "He loves me?"

Laura nods and points to the house, where you know Logan is lying inside. You saw him walk inside but hadn't dared to find him. "Go," Laura says suddenly and gently pushes on your arm. You stumble up, laughing a little to ease your nerves. Go and say what? You think.

Hi, I know you've been avoiding me but your daughter says you love me so—

You shake the thoughts from your head and decide to walk towards the cabin anyway. You can hear Logan inside as you knock on the door. There is a moment of silence and then a gruff, "Come in," and you open the door. Logan is sitting on the small bed, wrapping up his torso. He's bleeding. One of his wounds must have opened up. He looks like he's in pain.

He looks up, not looking surprised that it's you, and he motions you over. You hurry to sit next to him, wincing as you do because you'd done it too quickly and your wounds are still sore. Logan sends you a disapproving look. "Careful."

You nod, your gaze stuck on his chest. Logan sees you watching him and sighs. "Look," he turns, rolling his shoulders. His words seem to catch in his throat when he sees how sweet your expression is and his defense melts. How much longer can he pretend he doesn't think of you all the time? As if on autopilot, his hand reaches out and his knuckles stroke your cheek. "How can I convince you I'm bad for you?"

"You can't," you say instantly, holding his gaze now. "I don't think you are. You're a good man, Logan."

Logan shuts his eyes. There you go again. Calling him good, implying that he isn't the horrible monster he knows he is. He wants to shake his head, correct you, and tell you what he truly is. Remind you he's a dying man, but when he opens his eyes and looks into yours again, all the fight leaves his body.

He thinks of the claw marks that litter your side. How he'd spent an entire year pushing you away and all that ended up happening was you almost dying. Logan had never wanted to live more than those weeks he watched your unconscious body, unsure if you would ever wake again. He had wanted to live to see you again.

Logan looks at your lips. He wants to believe you, he wants to see the good in him, he wants to see what you see. His thumb gently skims the soft skin of your bottom lip. "Laura says you love me," you whisper, unable to keep the information to yourself and Logan is a little surprised. But then he laughs and the wrinkles in his eyes accentuate.

"Hm, she said that didn't she?"

You nod, unconsciously leaning into his touch.

Logan grins and strokes your cheek. He feels like he can breathe again, the pain in his side almost forgotten. "Pain in the ass, that girl is," he hums, no bite or bark in his words.

"Is she wrong?"

He shakes his head and leans in, kissing your lips again. He enjoys the kiss, taking it slow this time. His lips stay on yours as if he's savoring you. You move closer, your hands finding his knee as you squeeze.

Logan groans into your mouth and pulls you in a little closer. "No, she isn't," he whispers and kisses you again. You kiss him back, hoping to convey that you love him too by how you're kissing him. Logan's heart burns.

For something so selfish, it feels so good. Perhaps, he can bask in your hope for as long as he can, perhaps if he believes you just enough, what you say will become true and his body won't fail him. Deep down, he knows it's a futile hope, but it's one he'll let you cling to if it means he can have you like this.

His.

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exhaslo · 7 months ago

Text

Over-Time Ch3

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."

The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.

"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"

You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?

Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.

"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"

"S-Sorry," You whimpered.

You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?

"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."

"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"

"It's from 7am to 2pm."

"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"

"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"

You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.

You just had to finish your shift.

And never look back.

----------

You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.

You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.

Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.

"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.

It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.

"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.

"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"

"Oh....Thank you,"

This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.

"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"

----------

Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.

Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.

"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"

Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.

"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"

Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.

"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.

"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.

"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."

Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?

Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.

How cute.

--------

Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.

Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.

"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.

"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"

"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."

Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.

"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."

"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"

"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."

Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.

"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.

"When is your vacation again?"

It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.

"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.

"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"

"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.

Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.

"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"

"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."

"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"

"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"

"Okay,"

--------

Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.

Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.

"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.

Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?

"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."

"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.

Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.

"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @flaps200 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen

#miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n

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swiftieblyth · 8 days ago

Text

Baby Cameron: Wovey May Cameron

warnings- obx stuff, Rafe, WARD (hate him), child abandonment (not from Rafe), single dad Rafe, let me know what else I’m sure there’s more.

Another piercing scream filled the air as the thunder boomed and the lightning struck.

“I know,” Rafe cooed, bouncing his baby daughter in his arms. “I know it’s scary, baby, but Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s right here sweet Wovey girl.”

It had been a month since Rafe found Wovey on his doorstep. He was so angry when he saw the note saying that her mother never wanted her and was more than ready to leave her.

Wovey May Cameron was Rafes pride and joy. At only nine months old and having only known her for a month he wanted more than anything to protect his baby girl.

Ward wasn’t very fond of the idea of Rafe keeping her, claiming it would embarrass the Cameron name, but Rafe was able to convince by saying it was his chance to “man up” and that he was also all she had.

“I know. Shh shh, baby girl,” Rafe shushed, giving her soft kisses, feeling his heart break at her terrified sobs. “I know. I know my sweet, sweet baby girl. Does it remind you of the night Daddy found you? Is that why it scares you? It’s okay, Daddy’s got you now. Nothing’s going to hurt you anymore. Daddy’s going to protect you.”

🌊💰🌊

“Sarah!” Ward yelled, walking in the house with someone. “Have you seen the princess?” He asked as Rose made her way up the stairs.

“She’s out back.” Rose explained as the generators turned on.

“Let there be generators,” Ward let out.

“Thank god.” Rose explained. “It’s like living in Nicaragua.”

“Will you two shut up?” Rafe ordered running down the stairs. “Wovey was up all night, and I was just able to get her down for a nap!”

“Yeah, we know she was up all night.” Ward explained. “Her screaming kept all of us up.”

“Yeah, well that’s not my fault that her mother abandoned her in a storm and now my poor baby girl is terrified of them.” Rafe stopped when he heard a piercing scream and cursed under his breath before running up to her.

🌊💰🌊

A few days latter

“Well aren’t you the cutest little girl,” Rafe smiled as he finished getting his baby girl dressed in a cute little outfit.

“Ah!” Wovey smiled, clapping her chubby hands together.

“Yeah, and you know it too,” Rafe smiled, picking her up and blowing raspberries on her stomach, making her laugh. “You ready to go see Uncle Top and Uncle Kelce?”

“O! E!” Wovey cheared.

“That’s right baby.” Rafe smiled, walking to the door.

“There’s my favorite Cameron!” Topper yelled as he saw Rafe and Wovey heading to the door.

“Don’t let your girlfriend hear you say that,” Rafe scoffed.

“O!” Wovey cheered, reaching out for him.

“Did you miss your Uncle Top,” Topper smiled, taking her from Rafe’s arms.

“Hey, don’t take all her lovings, I want some.”

“E!”

🌊💰🌊

“Jeez, man, this is nuts,” Top let out as they were walking around, looking at the damage from Agatha.

“Agatha’s a,” Rafe let out, one hand holding his drink, and the other holding Wovey who clung to his side, playing with his shirt collar.

“Dang right, she is,” Kelce added.

“AAA” Wovey yelled, trying to match her father and uncles' energy, making them smile.

“That’s right baby,” Rafe smiled, kissing her head.

“I mean, I just–” Topper went on. “I can’t get it out of my head. It’s just on repeat. ‘Your move, broski.’”

“Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed at your head.”

“That’s what I’m saying. It’s insane.”

“Safety off. That Pogue.”

“They’re freaking Pogues, man,” Rafe explained as Wovey’s hands moved from playing with his shirt to his sunglasses. “You know you should get a piece.”

“What do you mean?”

“You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s better than being caught without one.”

“Listen, guys,” Topper explained, making Wovey let out a noise of protest, Rafes sunglasses, now placed wobbly on her nose. “And Wovey.” Topper corrected. “I-I’m gonna get him back, all right? I’m making it a little project of mine.

“Yeah, you should man,” Rafe explained, fixing the sunglasses on Wovey’s nose.

“Yo, that’s Sarah.” Kelce called, making them all look to Sarah who was climbing to a boat.

“What’s she doing?” Topper asked concern etching his face.

“Watch her fall and make a big drama out of it.” Rafe let out, adjusting the hat on Wovey’s head to keep the sun out of her face.

“Hey, there’s 14,000 volts in those wires.”

“Hey, Sarah, be careful!” Topper ordered.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” Rose exclaimed. “Sarah, get down now!”

“Rose, calm down. I’m an athlete. I got this.”

“You’re gonna get electrocuted! Get down!”

“She just wants attention,” Rafe breathed. All the commotion was starting to bother Wovey and she started to fuse in her fathers arms. “It’s okay, baby girl. You’re aunt Sarah is just being dramatic. Nothing to be concerned about, Wovey girl.”

“Sarah, that’s not funny.”

“When I tell your dad about this, Sarah…”

“Little fried Sarah,” Rafe let out, kissing Wovey’s nose, making her laugh. He loved making his baby laugh it made his heart fill with all the love in the world at the sight.

“Rafe, your sisters crazy, man.”

“I know,” Rafe replied to Kelce. “Why do you think she’s not allowed around Wovey alone?”

Sarah screamed which made Wovey scared and caused her to scream too.

Everyone went running to Sarah except for Rafe who stayed trying to calm his sobbing baby.

“It’s okay, shh, shh. I know. I know it was scary but you’re okay baby. You’re okay.”

Rafe was able to calm her cries a little when he looked up and saw Sarah was just messing with them, anger filling his veins for scaring his baby. Wovey let out another cry and buried her face in Rafes shoulder.

“It’s okay. It’s okay baby girl. Let's go home and get you some food and a nap.”

“Ah-ah,” Wovey sobbed, clutching Rafe’s shirt.

Rafe’s heart shattered at her distressed sob for him.

“I know. Oh I know my sweet baby girl. I know it was scary, but everyone’s okay. You’re okay, Wovey girl. Daddy’s got you.”

🌊💰🌊

“I just don’t feel like you care enough,” Ward yelled.

“I said I do!”

“Yeah, you said!”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything! All I want you to do is to take care of business. Where are the backup generators?

“Okay!”

“I gave you money for the back up generators. You said you would take care of it. Did you take care of it? Where are they?”

“They’re on back order.”

“Yeah, of course they are.”

“There was a hurricane.”

“I tell you what. You know that Pogue I just fired? Way more reliable than you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really! You need to get it together, Rafe, or you can go live on the cut.” Rafe let out a chuckle at Ward’s words. “What, that funny to you?” “Wow.”

“You can go live on the cut, Rafe, and Wovey would go away.

“You can’t do that!” Rafe yelled, ready to protect his daughter.

“I can, Rafe! I’m Ward Cameron. I can do whatever I want. And if you don’t start getting your stuff together I’m going to send her away! Now get up and get out of here. I’m sick of lookin’ at you.” Rafe shot up and started walking away. “Make yourself useful somewhere, somehow.” “Sarah’s not working,” Rafe said, hands on his hips.

“This isn’t about Sarah, Rafe. You’re almost 20. And you’re a dad. You don’t just get to sit back and have everything handed to you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It does not seem like you understand me.”

“I’ll take care of those generators, okay?”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Told you,” Sarah let out as Rafe walked in the house. “Shouldn’t have bought that motorcycle with the generator money.”

“Hm,” Rafe let out, walking upstairs towards Wheezie’s room. “Wheezie!”

“What do you want?” Wheezie asked, as Rafe barged into her room.

“I need you to watch Wovey tonight, I’ve got some crap I gotta take care of.” “What? But–”

“No buts,” Rafe cut in. “Look she’s down for her nap right now. Will be for the next hour, so all you’ll have to do is wake her up in an hour, change your diaper when needed, feed her, spend time with her and put her to bed, I’ll be back in the morning.”“Yeah, I know her schedule, Rafe.” “Good, then you’ll have no problem.”

#rafe outer banks #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #dad!rafe au #dad!rafe cameron

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plutoswritingplanet · 5 months ago

Text

Vicarious (Homelander x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: guys... you can't tell me y'all weren't expecting this. Title from the song "Vicarious" by Tool. Really wanted this to be a one shot, but as usual, I have shit to say. Will be Cross-Posted on AO3 as soon as they open the site back up.

Warnings: Nothing Explicit YET, some sexist remarks and creepy behavior from the man of the hour, Questionable Corporate Ethics, Set Before The Events Of The Show, Reader is written to be Plus Size.

Summary: Sidekick projects have been scraped completely after numerous accidents, but as a viral video of your hero work makes rounds through the public, you're forced to take part in a six moths program, that will forever change your life, as well as Homelander's

PT.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

It all started with a video. An insignificant, minute-long nothing posted to TikTok by an account, that up until then, made short edits specifically of A-Train and some B-list no-name hero. Quickly, it gained traction, making rounds throughout the app, bleeding over to other services, all the way to national television. First, an independent local station, soon picked up by a Vaught-affiliated one. Normally, that's where it would've stayed. Stillwell would extend an offer of a chance at an interview, alongside one of the Seven. But for some unknown reason, that small piece of nothing climbed all the way up to the floor eighty-two of Vaught Tower.

Well, to be quite honest, Stillwell knew exactly why she was in this situation. After a very messy graduation speech at a small college, Homelander lost almost twenty points with a young adult demographic. It would've been an easy fix, if not for the delicate nature of the breached subject, and Madelyn knew, this sudden interest in a nobody from nowhere, who, coincidentally, fit the demographic perfectly, was anything but a happy accident. It was a test, both for Homelander, and for her.

Which is why, Madelyn Stillwell and Homelander, the Homelander, the most American supe to ever exist, are cooped up in your living room, glancing about the modest decor, as you pour iced tea into three glasses with tacky fruit print all over them.

You've refused every single invitation, every single Vaught representative that knocked on your door. Your inbox was flooded with emails, your phone number was blowing up two, three times a day. And yet, your answer remained the same. You were not interested in a collaboration, thank you for the opportunity, please leave me alone.

That wouldn't fly, not with Madelyn, who, pushed by the constant nagging from the upper levels of the Tower, decided a more direct approach was the right one. So, she dragged herself into this… Well, to be quite honest, bum-fuck-nowhere, and brought her star pupil with her. No one would refuse working with Homelander himself, after all. At least that's what they both thought.

-I appreciate the effort - there's a practiced, borderline bored intonation in your voice, and Homelander's hands flex on his thighs - But I've already talked with, um, Jerry? From HR? The answer is still no.

Your house is small, but cozy, with sunshine pouring through the windows, reflecting onto the beaded curtain hanging in the doorway to your kitchen. An artist's home, through and through. Homelander hates it, hates the ordinariness of it all. He was so much above all this, sitting on your worn down couch physically hurt him. And the smell. The smell was the worst part. Reheated lasagna, mixing with a lingering aftertaste of cigarette smoke, and an undercurrent of weed, that almost made him retch. If it weren't for that damned video, you would be nothing more, than another brainless ant under his boot.

-Well, we - Madelyn offers her best, brilliant smile, gesturing to herself and Homelander - are very passionate about discovering new talent.

Your mouth twitches into a knowing smile, and for just a second Homelander feels flames of intrigue rising in his chest. Not for long, though, because you recline back into an armchair, taking a sip of the iced tea, and his eyes flash to the way your throat moves as you swallow. You could be hot, he concludes. Young, and with a truly spectacular rack. But there was something off about you, like you were constantly on the verge of dying from boredom, some invisible weight always on your shoulders. No amount of fake smiles and high-end makeup could cover that up.

He'd fuck you. If you'd beg him.

-We want to offer you a new, revised contract - Stillwell extends her hand with a rather thick binder of papers, and you hesitate for a moment, before reaching over. - Hopefully, it will make you reconsider.

You don't even show them the decency of looking through it, placing it on the table instead, and Homelander feels an itch form itself in the corners of his eyes. Stillwell looks taken aback as well, her brilliant smile faltering for just a second. You on the other hand, take another sip of your drink, before placing it right in the middle of the contract, the moisture from the ice creating a wet circle in the paper.

Your heartbeat is even, it doesn't pick up even a smidgen, when you look between Stillwell and America's Greatest Hero, who is slowly but surely growing annoyed by your persistent indifference.

-Thank you, but I already said no - you repeat, and this time, Homelander shifts on the couch.

-And why not? - he asks, tension entering his voice in a way, that makes Madelyn squirm - Countless supes, with much more impressing powers than you, I might add, would kill to be in your place.

"To work with me" goes unsaid, but he can see in your eyes, you read it from thin air of superiority engulfing him. Annoyingly perceptive. You nod your head slowly, before turning away from them, looking out of the window of your living room. There's a small patch of grass, and a second house, so similar to yours, but at the same time, completely different. Your chin sticks out in its direction, and Homelander follows with his eyes.

There are paper butterflies stuck to the windows, cut out clumsily, most likely by children's hands.

-My neighbour, Missus Johnson - you explain - She lives there, with her three kids. Her husband died in a fire caused by your friend, Lamp Lighter.

Madelyn stills, Homelander raises an eyebrow.

-I can afford this house, only because my mother signed an NDA, after The Deep sank my father's fishing boat. - again, your heart stays completely unaffected - Accidentally, of course.

-I was not aware… - Madelyn starts, and it's hard to decipher whether she's talking to you, or Homelander.

Someone at the research department is going to have a very unpleasant evening.

-That's alright - you interrupt her with a raised hand and a small smile - This whole neighborhood is filled with similar cases. And I'm very, very attached to this place.

Why, Homelander couldn't tell. For all he knew, this was some shit hole, right in the suburbs outside New York. Not even the half decent ones. A forgotten by everyone, dying piece of land, that housed insignificant humans, who would never amount to anything, you included. He lived in a lavish apartment, inside a miracle of modern architecture. Who wouldn't want the same?

-And - there's something new entering your tone of voice - If I'm going to betray everything I stand for, I need to give something back to those people. Does your contract reflect that?

Madelyn bites the inside of her cheek, her scrutinizing gaze making your skin itch. Still, she sighs after a moment, excusing herself with that same, practiced expression she uses on every shareholder. Homelander follows her out, nodding his goodbye to you, but before he can leave this dump, Madelyn stops him with a hand pressed against his chest. She gives him one look, makes him aware that his job isn't over, and he can feel the muscles of his face twitch.

So, obediently, he lingers in your doorway, taking a few calming breaths, before facing you once more.

You've changed positions, your armchair abandoned in favor of sitting by the window, one leg bent in a way, that shows quite a nice view of your calf, your long skirt pooling around you. Homelander's eyes trail up with mild interest, and he indulges in his X-ray vision. He's just being curious, nothing more.

Your underwear is, well, for the lack of a better word, plain. The bra seems to be slightly ill fitted, digging into the sides of your breasts, making them almost spill from under your pits, and Homelander swallows thickly at the sight. There are little, pink hearts on your panties. The colors are dull and washed out from frequent use, and the once frilly lace is starting to fray at the edges.

Apparently Vaught's compensation was not sufficient for you to buy some decent undergarments.

-Do you want something to eat? Drink? - you ask from your place by the window, and Homelander is snatched back to reality - Do you even need food?

The bluntness of the question startles him, makes him feel defensive, but Madelyn wanted results, so he puts on a mask of his trained smile, and crosses the room. Back straight like an arrow, he looks wildly out of place between all the linens and cushions. He doesn't look at you, trapping your smaller form in the confinement of the window, as he watches over the neighboring house.

-I'm not hungry - he shoots down your offer with a wave of his hand - I've already eaten.

A lie, but he'd never stoop low enough to take any leftovers, especially from you. Still, the offer seems nice. He does like being pampered, even if it's with lackluster things. Your eyes linger on his boyish smile, another practiced thing, and Homelander shifts focus to your heartbeat once again.

-Alright then - your voice sounds indifferent as ever - Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to make some dinner for myself.

He offers a small nod, and watches you from his position by the window, as you slip past him. It does require quite a lot of manoeuvering, but you manage to stand without touching him. He has to admit, watching you balance, as you try to avoid him, was amusing. Still, your heart beats calmly, and, not wanting to be left on his own, Homelander follows you to your kitchen. The beads of the courtain drum delicately over the bronze eagles on his shoulders.

The fridge is buzzing something awful. He can see just how run down the inside mechanism is, the hinges squeaking unbearably, as you reach for a box of reheatable spaghetti. There's cheep beer inside, a moldy lemon, a carton of milk pretty close to expiring, and a half-used bottle of spicy ketchup. Homelander doesn't even recognize these brands, they're not sponsored by Vaught, that's for sure.

Cheap, tasteless, basically offering no nutritional value.

-Would you step back for a second? - he asks, already wrenching himself between you and that pathetic excuse of a meal.

Again, your body sways to avoid touching him, and for some unknown reason, he finds it very amusing.

Then, you watch with a raised eyebrow, as he turns towards your spaghetti, a red sheen overtaking his eyes. An unbearably hot beam shoots out, making the insides of the plastic packaging sizzle. Finally, that gets him a reaction, as you gasp and reel back, colliding with the barely functional fridge. Your heart does a flip inside your chest, and Homelander soaks up your shock like a man starved.

Only when the red fizzles out of his gaze do you dare to move, approaching him slowly, your eyes bearing into him in a way that is frankly uncomfortable.

He turns to you with another one of his charming smiles, trying to handle this sudden scrutiny in as flippant a way as possible.

-I had no idea you can control the intensity of your lazer - you admit, voice slightly breathless.

-Pretty neat, huh? - perhaps he's fishing for more attention, but he doesn't care, because your eyes light up for just a moment in sheer wonder.

-Super cool, actually.

Yeah. Yeah, that's fucking right, he is super cool. And your heart is beating so much faster, and finally you're looking at him as if he's more than just some guy, some living advertisement you're determined to ignore.

And then your eyes shift, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, as you zero in on his shoulder. Something akin to a wave of amusement flickers across your expression, and to his general surprise, Homelander wants to know what's the cause of this shift. Your lips pull back into a smile, teeth peaking at him in all their glory. He can almost imagine them running down his skin, before he pushes the thought back all together, as the lower portion of his suit becomes slightly too tight for comfort.

-Well, thank you for saving the spaghetti - your eyes hold a spark of amusement - My hero.

Okay, alright, he's hard. There's no point denying it. However annoying and insignificant you were moments before, your quip goes straight to his loins, burning enough, for him to consider just how mad Stillwell would be, if he'd have a taste of this newly discovered talent.

If he stands any closer to you, he might find out, because this special little moment you two have shared, is crudely interrupted by Madelyn clearing her throat. Homelander nearly jumps back, you however barely turn your head, reaching for your spaghetti and arming yourself with a fork.

-I've spoken to my supervisor - Stillwell announces, clearly peeved by the way you start chewing on the noodles - A new version of the contract will be emailed to you as soon as possible. Hopefully it will be satisfactory.

-Thank you, Miss Stillwell - you answer with an inclination of your head.

With that, Madelyn nods her goodbye at you, refusing to shake your hand, which does amuse you, you're not going to lie. Homelander however, goes all out, capturing your fork-weilding arm, his fingers sneaking around your wrist like a bracelet. Or a shackle. Then, you watch with a confused arch to your eyebrows, as he brings you closer, until his lips press onto the protruding knuckles. Now that, admittedly, gets your heart going. You were not an easily embarrassed person, not by a long shot, but you could feel blood rushing towards your face all the same.

He has to hold his breath, as he kisses your hand in that charming, gentleman way he's seen in old movies. The smell of pasteurized tomato sauce blows in his direction, like a direct assault on his senses. Still, he needed something that would make you swoon. If everything failed, he knew how to be intimidating, but for now, perhaps he wanted to try something different. Something that would yield much more pleasant results, for the both of you. Mostly for him, let's be honest.

Madelyn asks him to stay back, spy on you throughout the night, and he begrudgingly agrees, if only to mask the fact, that he would do so of his own volition, had she not brought it up. And as such, he floats into the rapidly cooling air, disappearing into the darkening sky, where you wouldn't be able to see him even if you tried. He could see you however, and hear you, and he was about to make the most of the situation.

He spends the whole evening just watching you exist within your space. Normally, it would piss him off beyond belief. You weren't doing anything scandalous, anything that could warrant his attention. And yet, as he floats on, in time lowering himself just slightly, to get a better view, he just can't seem to look away. The spaghetti is gone in approximately fifteen minutes, as you inhale the supermarket food, walking around the living room, the kitchen, getting a few bites on the porch even. You seem so utterly unfazed by the events of the past hour, like you haven't just had America's Greatest Superhero try to convince you to work with him. It's honestly insulting, this lack of reaction.

Then, finally, he can hear a distinct ping of a new email come from your laptop, and you sit down on the couch with a small huff. Your eyes move, your lips twitch, and then he hears your heart stop in your chest. As if working on autopilot, your hand travels up, covers your mouth in shock, and you lean back against the worn-down sofa, eyes glued to the screen illuminating your face in a blue-ish light.

-...fuck… - you whisper, and despite himself Homelander floats even closer to your window.

Finally, he has the chance to peak over the curtain. To sneak into the backstage of the award winning production of your defenses, and see what goes on in those bored eyes of yours, when they're not guarded. And what he sees makes his suit feel much too tight, his body too warm. Quite an unusual thing to get so worked up about, but he's the goddamned Homelander, he can get hard whenever he fucking wants. And so, as saliva gathers on his tongue, he presses himself against the tiles on your roof, all the warmth of the day soaking into his skin through the thick material of his suit.

With a shaky hand you reach over towards your phone, putting in a number and pressing the call button, before standing straight from the couch, almost knocking the laptop over.

-Hey, what's up? - someone says on the other end of the line, and Homelander tries to focus more on the words flowing from the receiver.

-Oh, you gotta sit down for that one - you warn with an anxious chuckle, taking the familiar place by the window.

With your free hand you reach up to open the window all the way. Then, Homelander sees your fingers slip between the pillows and pull out a rather beaten up pack of cigarettes.

Naughty, naughty, he thinks, watching you produce a lighter from that same hiding place.

-Alright, I'm sat like never before.

The voice sounds vaguely female, although the shitty quality of your phone makes it hard to decipher. Your lips pull back into a toothy grin, and you blow out the smoke through the window. It curls upwards and dissipates into the air, right above the roof, where Homelander swallows thickly around a coughing fit.

-You will not believe who visited me today…

-The ICE - the voice deadpans, and you snort around another huff of smoke.

-Pretty fucking close, let me tell you - he doesn't appreciate the joke, not at all - Fucking Homelander.

The line goes completely quiet for a moment, and with every second your grin seems to be growing.

-Deadass?

-Yup - your lips purse, and Homelander zeroes in on the expression - Flew in all Star's Spangled Glory with some Vaught big fish. They tried to convince me to join the Seven.

-And obviously you said yes, because what the fuck else do you do in that situation?

Your grin slowly fades away, and you lean your forehead on the window frame.

-You didn't?

-I didn't.

Again, it's quiet.

Homelander shifts a bit in his position, adjusting against the warmed up tiles of the roof, his X-ray vision bearing into you. Out of curiosity, he looks deeper, eyes floating over your insides. You're relatively healthy. Some vitamin deficiencies, but nothing too serious. And despite that nasty habit lodged between your fingers, your lungs are clear, at least for now. There's a softness to your body, your muscles barely visible, as if you're just another gray human. Oh, and there's a bit of an eyesight problem forming, not enough to warrant glasses, but that shouldn't take long, considering your lifestyle.

-The contract they gave me was really good, you know - you muse to the phone, your leg dangling from the windowsill - Six months of working under Homelander, a Sidekick kinda situation.

-I thought they scraped the Sidekick program - the person on the other side wonders - Too many casualties or something.

-Yeah, well I guess they want to bring it back.

-Why did you say no then? I'm sure they pay is gigantic.

Again, you smile. This one much more reserved, bordering on sad. There's that strange kind of exhaustion settling into your bones again, same one Homelander noticed when he first saw you. Your shoulders slump forward, and you curl into yourself between the cushions.

-It was, it was… - you mutter - But I needed something more, for the neighborhood, ya know?

Your caller hums softly in understanding, and Homelander feels like something is passing him by. Some unspoken fact, that you and your friend find obvious.

-And - you hesitate, eyes flickering towards the laptop, your heart beat picking up ever so slightly - They sent me a revised contract. And it's fucking good. Really fucking good. It could help this entire place get back on its feet.

-But you still don't want to - the voice says for you, without judgement.

-No - you sigh - I really, really don't.

-Say no then - your friend supplies, and once again Homelander feels a flame of annoyance start to burn within him - No one else knows about the contract, there will be no expectations.

Slowly, you nod your head, clearly relieved by the way your friend reacted to the news. Homelander however, caught you right where he needed you. That's your lever. Not seduction, not intimidation, just plain, stupidly human guilt.

-Thank you - you whisper into your phone, finally smiling again - Oh, wanna know one more thing?

-Obviously.

-Homelander's wearing a padded suit.

Something's stuck in his throat, as he reels back from his position. Before he can stop himself, his eyes begin to glow red, because how the fuck did you know?

-Okay, that's bullshit.

-Unless his shoulder dislocated in the middle of talking, then no, it's definitely not bullshit.

Your friend gives out a choked laugh, one which you mirror with your own. If Homelander wasn't so utterly flabbergasted by your (correct) observation, he would've stopped to appreciate the sound. As it stands, however, he pushes himself off your roof, a couple of broken pieces falling off of the tiles. And then he's up in the air, cutting through the winds, headed straight for the Tower, leaving you in the comfort of your insignificant, smelly home.

The contract is leaked before the sun is up.

You're awoken to thousands of news articles flooding your timeline, all listing the truly wonderful and selfless points in the fated email. With a white face, you read them all, the speculations, the theories, the angry comments about you being chosen without an actual casting, while all those up and coming supes are busting their asses in auditions.

Soon enough, you're visited by every neighbour possible, congratulating, thanking you. A barbecue is set in the street, as a way of celebration, and you want to throw your phone, and subsequently yourself into the nearest river.

Madelyn Stillwell sends you an email, scheduling a meeting at the Vaught Tower. No need for pleasantries at this point, you stare at the bare bones invitation. "We eagerly await the start of our partnership" looks back at you, mocking your resolve. And thus, the end of your life as you know it begins.

"Project Delinquent"

The words are printed in an ugly, corporate font, and they stare back at you, outlining the mold you're supposed to fit in, in such a perfect way, it actually, almost makes you retch. True, during high school you were quite the little rebel, but people grown and learn, and seeing your character be watered down to that simple word, does send a wave of nausea through your insides. Even if this is hell of your own making, even if you're ready to swallow it all down with a smile, there's a pang of humiliation stinging your heart.

The armchair in Stillwell's office is uncomfortably narrow. It barely has enough room to accommodate your hips, and you wonder if this design is intentional. There is a growing ache in your calves, as you sit so close to the edge, you can't fully relax into your position, balancing on your feet instead. The armrests dig into your sides, and the way the sun is shining through the gigantic windows of the office, is shaping this charade of a meeting into an overstimulating nightmare. Still, you endure. For all the wonderful benefits enclosed in your contract, the charity work Vaught is going to supply.

Or at least, that's what you keep telling yourself, stuck between the marketing department representatives and a literal Devil of a woman.

Madelyn Stillwell doesn't know what to make out of you. Your files were filled with all sorts of questionable activity, especially around the college area. It's honestly a miracle you've managed to get your degree, and attend all those silly little demonstrations at the same time. Your criminal record has been wiped clean, weeks before you even agreed to sign the contract, just in case any leaks would find their way into the media. Leaks that were not orchestrated by Madelyn, of course.

High school rebellion was almost too easily marketable, Madelyn decided to focus on that part of your life as much as possible, her vision slowly coming to fruition. All she needed, really, was cooperation. And while you seemed to be mostly receptive to her ideas, she needed to make sure Homelander was on his best behavior. Which, well… Could go sideways in the worst way imaginable, but Stillwell tried to have some faith in her best superhero.

The idea of releasing details of your contract to the public, was a stroke of genius, she did not expect from Homelander, and she made sure he was thoroughly rewarded. With him, it was always better to choose the hands-on approach, unfortunately. With you, however, ideals were the key. Whatever feeling of solidarity you harbored towards your neighborhood, provided a leverage relatively easy to control. Still, as Stillwell looked you over, crammed into her office in your, frankly, lousy attire, she couldn't help but be just a tad worried about your compliance.

-…And then - the marketer continues with a dramatic gasp - Homelander comes in. America's Greatest Hero, offers you a mentorship. And you…

You look up at the representative with a rather sour expression. They have to work on that too. Media training was crucial. You won't be able to sell anything, if you keep grimacing like that all the damned day.

-… Are starstruck - your mouth twitches - You strike up a deal, selfless. A rebel with a heart of gold. Finally, you can make some real change happen, so you push aside your anti-corporate values, to discover, that Vaught is so much more, than you could possibly imagine.

It's hard not to laugh, and you swallow thickly, biting your lip, as a middle-aged woman you don't recognize gets up from the couch, and makes her way to the wall opposite of your torture chair. There, tucked in a corner and hidden under a black cloth, stands a mannequin, roughly your size. With a flourish you find utterly out of place, the woman tugs at the cape, and as it falls to the floor, so does your stomach. You can't hold it in any longer. A rough snort of laughter rips out of your nose, and you cover your mouth instantly.

-That better be a laugh of delight - Ashley, a ginger menace, mutters under her breath, and Stillwell turns to you with a tight expression on her face.

-Something the matter?

-I mean - you take a deep, grounding breath, tying your amusement in the back of your throat - I knew it's going to be skimpy, but this is…

You look around the room, seeing various stages of corporate outrage, and then you lock eyes with Homelander. Stillwell insisted on his participation in the meeting, as the both of you are supposed to work closely together, and throughout the whole ordeal, he looked borderline ready to die of boredom. Now, however, his eyebrows lift in a curious manner, as he takes in the, to be completely honest, horrendous costume, and your full figure. Something dangerously close to disgust twists your features, as he shamelessly drags his eyes all over your body.

Who would've thought America's Sweetheart was a fucking creep?

Rolling your eyes, you get up from the cursed armchair, your knees cracking loudly. Crossing the room, you take a closer look at the clothing, or rather, lack there of. Torn fishnets, plaid tennis skirt, and a corset top, made out of some leather-like material. Truly, a fetishists wet dream. Your fingers sample the fabric of the skirt. Surprisingly stiff, it seems to beg for a wardrobe malfunction. With a frown pulling down your lips, you lift the material up, and as expected, find no safety shorts underneath.

Homelander watches you intently, as you inspect the costume. Just the thought of your soft body in this skimpy, corporate bastardization of a rock star, makes heat rise in the lower part of his stomach. With every disapproving pull of your, and don't quote him on that, perfect lips, he's more and more convinced this whole charade is just an early birthday present. He'll have to thank Stillwell. Or better not, because as soon as he throws her a sidelong glance, he discovers, she's already looking at him. With a rather tense expression at that.

He feigns innocence, almost raises his hands in mock defeat, but decides against it at the last second. You're still watching him, torn between inspecting the costume, and shooting disgruntled looks in his direction.

Then, as if pulled by some invisible force, your hand sneaks to the front of the corset, fingers closing over the full cup, where your breast will soon reside. You give the mock leather two squeezes, and a high-pitched laugh wheezes out of your lips. Homelander's head nearly snaps with how fast he turns to look at Stillwell, confusion clear on his face.

She's looking at you cautiously. He knows that expression all too well, he's seen it multiple times during their partnership. She's calculating, with bated breath, just how much of a problem you'll inevitably become. How to turn it around in the company's favor, how to steer you in the right direction, should the need arise.

But then, you clap your hands, still giggling quietly, and turn to the designer, who's been watching your reaction with a growing distaste.

-That's one hell of a push-up bra - you comment with a raised eyebrow - My tits will fly straight out of this, if I even think about moving my arms.

Now, that's something Homelander would love to see, and you note his leering face with an uncomfortable shift in your posture.

-Your physique has to be god-like. There's no shame in a little padding - the designer answers simply, and your eyes glimmer with amusement.

-Oh, I bet - your eyes float for just a second in Homelander's direction, and he wonders if lasering you down right now would be too harsh of a reaction.

The image had to be kept up, however, and he deflects your blatant provocation with a bright smile. Or rather, it would've been a bright smile, if his cheek didn't twitch in a way, that portrayed exactly how forced his pleasantries are.

-There will be a press conference, seven PM sharp, where you'll be introduced to the public - Ashley informs you, her eyes glued to her tablet - Homelander will give a welcoming speech, explain that you're a temporary member of The Seven. Then, you'll need to say a couple of words. We'll send you the talking points ASAP.

-Right… - you mutter, not particularly thrilled by the idea of public speaking.

Stillwell looks over her shoulder towards Homelander, giving him an expectant, raised eyebrow. Slowly, he moves from his spot by the window, hand extended in a greeting, teeth flashing in a smile. Your eyes involuntarily shift towards his rather sharp canines, and for the first time, since you've signed the contract, you truly feel uneasy. His eyes are almost unnaturally blue, a perfect, American shade, that glimmers just a tad too dangerously. There's no need for super senses, he can feel your nerves in the very air you breathe.

-Welcome to The Seven - his voice is smoother than you've ever heard before - Fireball.

Wait a god-damned minute.

Confusion covers all previous feelings, and to Homelander's growing annoyance, you leave him with his hand extended, in favor of turning towards Stillwell.

-That's not my name - you point out, and Madelyn nods her head in a practiced expression of understanding.

-Due to some copyright intricacies, we can't let you use Smirnoff - she explains.

You suck in a deep breath through your teeth, looking back towards the costume. A moment's hesitation, you close your eyes as you breathe out, and once again Homelander feels as if he's able to peak under a carnival mask you carefully placed upon yourself. He lifts it just enough, sees the way muscles on your neck twitch. Your jaw sets in a way, that is slowly becoming intoxicating, and then you turn back to him.

-I'm honored - your voice is hollow, locked far away in the column of your throat, and you don't have enough strength to even attempt a smile.

That's alright, he has enough charm for the both of you, his imposing stature pushing towards you, as his arm sneaks around your shoulders.

Fuck, you're warm. He can feel the heat of your skin seeping into his costume. There's a vaguely familiar smell clinging to your form, mixing with the scent of cigarette smoke. Jasmine flowers, he concludes, and absent-mindedly remembers a rather large bush growing in your backyard. He wonders, if you'd let him fuck you, if he showed up with a bouquet at your door. Women seemed to like those, and although you didn't strike him as the most romantic person, he's positive he could charm his way into your pants.

-I'll show you to your room, sweetheart - perhaps he's laying it on a bit heavy with the nickname.

He can hear Stillwell's heart jump, and he immediately knows, he's going to have to sit through a stern talk later today. You, on the other hand, wrench your head to the side, disgruntled with this new form of familiarity. Your entire body goes tense, and you try to wriggle yourself further away from him. On instinct, his fingers dig into your shoulder, a mockery of a friendly expression, and with just a small fragment of his true strength, he pushes you forward, out of Stillwell's office.

He can do whatever he wants, and Madelyn is getting awfully pushy with guarding you from him. You're just a temporary toy to satisfy the higher-ups. A six months worth of an experiment, that he's forced to be a part of. After your contract is up, Vaught won't care whether you live or die, and you bet your rather ample ass, he's going to exploit that to the fullest. Not only is it borderline insulting, to deny him life's simple pleasures, it's pathetic.

-Nervous about the press? - he asks in a light tone, his jaw clicking softly, when your slide out of his grasp as soon as the doors close.

The casualness of this question throws you in a bit of a loop, but with a couple of rapid blinks, you're back to normal, letting him lead you towards the elevator.

-Public speaking isn't my best asset - you mumble.

Homelander presses the call button of the elevator, then leans against the wall, watching you with a strange twinkle in his eye.

-Sounds like someone's not a people person - he notes, wiggling his finger at you in a manner that is confusingly playful.

-I am a people person - you defend yourself, albeit a bit awkwardly - Just… Not when there's a lot of people.

He laughs at that, a practiced, almost theatrical bark that's as fake as his hairdo. All you have the strength to do, is flash him half of a smile. Thankfully the elevator pings before any more small-talk is required, and you slip into the confined space, standing in the corner. His eyes roam freely all over your body, a shameless act that makes your guts twist, makes the already small space of the elevator even more stuffy. And then, he enters after you, pressing a button to the right floor, and taking a spot much too close to you, than what's necessary.

You suppose it's one of the things you'll have to get used to. This constant invasion of your personal space. Perhaps, if it were someone else, someone that wasn't as empty as you, those actions would've been more intimidating than annoying. Alas, as you watch his chest rise and fall in steady rythm, out of the corner of your eye, his actions remind you of a petulant, spoiled child, rather than America's Greatest Hero. "I can't play with this toy? And what if I do this?" For just a second you entertain the idea of gentle parenting Homelander, and the thought makes the corner of your mouth twitch.

-Something the matter? - he asks, tension sneaking into his friendly tone.

-Just happy to be here, sir - you answer, and he knows it's a blatant lie, another one of your snarky provocations.

Doesn't matter for now, there will be a time to teach you some manners.

The elevator arrives at the right floor, and you bolt out of your place as soon as the doors slip open. Homelander follows closely behind, before closing the distance in a couple of long steps. Then, he's in front of you, and you nearly collide with his form, as he suddenly comes to a stop, in front of a pair of large doors. "Fireball" is etched into a small plack, and you throw the offending piece of metal a withering glance.

-That's your stop, sweetheart - he comments, and once again, you grimace at the nickname - Take a look inside, I'm sure it will blow your socks right off.

Why is he talking to you like you're a fucking child all of a sudden, you'll never understand. The door clicks softly, as you open it, revealing your living space for the next six months. The sight chokes a laugh out of you, because truly, the ammount of "punk" memorabilia is staggering.

-Does cocaine addiction come with the package, or…?

He doesn't even react to your joke, and you don't blame him. For all his creepiness and fake interest, he doesn't strike you as the funniest person on earth. There are guitars hanging over a rather large bed, there's a pristine stop sign next to them, which you suppose is meant to look rebellious. The usage of leopard print is tacky at best, and you truly start to wonder if they even consulted someone out of the corporation to design the space. Most likely no, wouldn't want to waste resources on such a small project.

-Fireball - Homelander's voice is barely above a whisper, but it makes your heart jump all the same.

He's standing so closely behind you, you can feel the warmth of his breath at the back of your neck, but for some unnknown reason, you can't force yourself to move. Instead, you feel him take a deep breath trough his nose, his chest brushing against your back. Your eyes stay glued to a drum set, pushed against a gigantic window. Light reflects off of the cymbals, in your mind you're already playing it, far away from this nightmare of a superhero.

-I'll see you at the press conference - Homelander's hand clasps itself over your shoulder, squeezing a couple of times, as if testing the softness of your body - Don't even think about being late, young lady.

You don't know when he dissapears, as you stand there, frozen. One foot over the threshold of your room, breathing shallow and borderline panicked. It could've been seconds, could've been hours, until your head finally snaps to the side. He's not there anymore, you're alone in the corridor, and as you slam the door closed behind you, something you've only suspected before becomes abundantly clear.

There is something deeply wrong with Homelander.

#my writing #homelander x reader #homelander x you #plus size reader #the boys amazon #the boys x reader #homelander #the boys fanfiction #homelander fanfiction #do we have to have a talk about how liking a character doesn't equal endorsing their actions or are we good?#it'll get much darker later down the line but for now have this blurb of barely conscious writing

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bruh--wtf · 6 months ago

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Tutor for Time

Theodore Nott x gryffindor! reader

summary: Theo is terrible with his words, and reader already had some presumptions about him. So when Theo takes an opportunity to spend time with the reader it is their friend Pansy’s responsibility to fix both of their assumptions.

Warning: this is my first time writing for Theo so idk how good it is but lmk! <3

You’d never actually spoken to Theodore Nott and you never planned on doing so. No matter how good of friends you were with Pansy, Blaise and Enzo, Theodore Nott was unapproachable.

“No, absolutely not.” Pansy frowns at you.

“He’s not actually that scary. He just has a resting bitch face.” You glare at her and shake your head.

“It’s not that. In fact, he’s quite handsome, it’s the fact that he notoriously hates anything having to do with Gryffindor. He’s also a notorious fuck boy, and seems to take extra pleasure in breaking the girls hearts in my house. I’ve heard to many stories to even think of asking him for help.” You shake your head and start reading the read annotations Snape had left all over your paper.

“He’s your best chance at passing.” You glare at her and glance over at Theodore again on the other side of the room. She was right, he did have a resting bitch face. He always looked like he hated everything, and his gray eyes were perpetually fixed in an expression of annoyed indifference. While his friends laughed around him, the only hint of emotion he showed was the slightest smirk.

So, yes, Theodore Nott was unapproachable. But also incredibly attractive. Which might have said more about you than him.

“I can ask him for you if you like. Or at least mention that you’re looking for a tutor,” Pansy offers, slightly more gentle than previously. You look at her again, chewing on the inside of your cheek. When you glance down at your paper covered in red marks again, you sigh.

“Yeah, alright,” you finally concede. Pansy grins and goes back to her work, unnervingly excited at your agreeing. And when you look up at Theodore again, you find him already looking between you and your friend. When he sees you looking his eyes seem to harden before he looks away.

Oh, he definitely hates you.

***

You finally walk into the library five minutes late, and Theodore is waiting for you at a table in the back corner. You have to take a deep breath before walking up to him and taking a seat across from him.

“Thanks for finally gracing me with your presence.” You blink at him. His accent is thicker somehow when he is speaking directly to you. You would think living surrounded by the English for the past five and a half years would have depleted the accent a bit, but it’s still very prominent.

“I got caught up with some friends. I’m only a few minutes late.” Theodore finally looks up at his books and his dead eyes meet yours.

“And that makes wasting my time alright?” You blink at him and have to bite your tongue to remind yourself that he is actually taking time out of his day to help you. So don’t be a complete bitch.

“No of course not. Sorry. Thank you for meeting me, though.” He just shrugs looking down again.

“Pansy wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t have much of a choice.” You clench your naw again and nod.

“Right.” Theodore jumped right into the reading after that. You had to scramble to get your book at, which he didn’t seem to care about in the slightest. By the time it was almost curfew, Theodore didn’t show the slightest sign of being any more tired than when you had sat down with him. You, on the other hand, had earned at least three kicks in the leg when your eyes would start drooping shut.

Finally, you found your out when Madame Pince yelled out that the library would close in ten minutes. You quickly sat up for the first time in over an hour and watched as Theodore just kept rambling on about the importance of some herb.

“Are we almost done?” You finally blurt out. That’s when he finally looks up again. He raises an eyebrow at you, not looking amused in the slightest.

“Do you understand more than you did the last time you got a question wrong?” You scowl at his response and deflate a little in your seat.

“The library closes soon.” He nods and snaps his book shut, making you jump a little at the sudden change.

“Perfect. Then I can have a break of your stupid answers until tomorrow.” You gawk at him. Once the words finally process in your head, you stand up, grabbing your things.

“Just because I have one sore subject doesn’t make me an idiot, Nott. I’m smart enough not to waste my time with an ass like you again.”

“Ouch.” His smirk and sarcastic tone makes you all the angrier, and you send a final glare his way before starting to walk off. “You need me to pass the next test on Thursday.” You turn around to see him gathering his things as if he hadn’t just said anything. For a moment you thought you’d imagined it.

“I can find someone else to help me. Someone who actually wants to and isn’t just here to be a condescending ass who likes to make me feel bad about myself,” you snap. Theodore looks over his shoulder at you and studies you for a moment.

“I admit my last comment was a bit harsh but I just spent the last five hours trying to teach you. Who else is going to do that?” He turns, leaning on the table as his arms cross over his chest. You pause for a moment. That almost sounded like regret from Theodore Nott. You didn’t think there was such a thing.

“Fred’s quite good at potions. I’m sure he’d help me.” Theodore raises an eyebrow.

“Weasley? Sure, he’d help you for ten minutes before distracting himself and you with something else.” You clench your jaw, sad to admit that he had a point. Neither Fred nor George were very academic and even when they were they were terrible at staying focused.

“Why do you want to help me? Is Pansy paying you or something?” Theodore shakes his head, turning back to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. He walks up to you, the ass having the gall to tower over you after everything else.

“No. She’s not, nor is anyone else. I’ll see you here same time tomorrow.” You blink at him, and he’s walking away. Unfortunately, he’s right. You will see him tomorrow.

And the next day.

And finally, on Wednesday night, you’re staring at the review Theodore had created for the test the very next day with your head in your hands.

“How am I supposed to remember all this?” Theodore shrugs as he works on his own work across from you.

“The same way the rest of us do. You study.” You glare at him and kick his shin like he’d done to you so many times, which manages to earn you his attention.

“I’ve been studying. I’ve spent more time with you in here than I have in my own bed the last few days and I still feel like it’s all going to leave my head the second I leave.” Theodore tilts his head and studies you as you slouch back in your seat.

“What helps you remember when you’re here?” You bite the inside of your cheek. You know the answer and yet you hate to admit it to the boy. However, the truth was the truth. And that was that you had grown attached to Theodore’s praise. Well, about as close as he came to it. Whenever you were right, he’s award you with the smallest of smiles and a little nod. And if he was reading over your papers, you liked watching as his eyes skimmed the words and sometimes you could tell you were right when his head tilted down a little more to hide the smile you liked so much. He didn’t like admitting you were right despite being the reason for it.

Eventually, he gestured for an answer and you had to sigh. “You, I suppose,” you finally admit, neglecting to tell him why you like being right with him so much. Theodore seems to like that answer, though as he gives you one of those small smiles that are nothing like his usual smirk.

“Well, lucky for you I happen to be just across the room, incase you haven’t noticed.” You blink up at him. “So, you should be just fine.” You smile a little and tilt your head.

“Careful, Nott. I believe you just comforted a Gryffindor.” Your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed by Theodore. He smirks a little and his eyes go back down to his work and his quill.

“If I’m your good luck charm you could at least call me Theo.” His blatant ignoring of your comment still shocks you.

“Fine, then. Theo?” He lifts his head again and hums in response. “Why are you helping me?” He tilts his head in a way that reminds you of your friend’s cat when you hold catnip.

“Pansy gave me an excuse to sit with you and I took it.” Your brows scrunch together and it is your turn to tilt your head and his to study you. “We have mutual friends, and I never wanted them to be the reason that I got to be alone with you.”

He tilted his head back straight and you continued to stare at him. “Is that one of your lines?” He brings his hand up to rest his chin on. It’s the first time you’ve seen him lean on the table.

“What are you talking about?” You roll your eyes and wait for him to crack up but he doesn’t.

“You don’t like me, or anyone else that has anything to do with my House. Everyone knows that. And I’m not the idiot to fall for it.” He just stares for a moment before shaking his head.

“I’ve definitively had my fun, just like Mattheo, and definitely Enzo have. How does that make me a worse person than them?” Your throat runs dry and you can’t think of a good way to word your thoughts.

“I didn’t say you were… Enzo is terrible to girls and I am well aware of that. You’re not better or worse.” He rolls his eyes and starts gathering his papers.

“I’ve never told a girl I’d be hers and then not followed through. I’m always honest, unlike some of my friends who love false promises because they think it gets them better head. And it’s not my fault if girls think that just because I’ve been in their bed means suddenly I’ll want to go out with them.” You watch as he stands up, looking more annoyed than you have ever seen him. “Before you think about me being an ass again, maybe think that you only hear the side of delusional girls who have also fucked half of my friends. And I didn’t want to meet up with you to get into your pants I could’ve gotten that much easier from someone who tries much harder to get into mine.” He shoves his things in his bag and starts walking out of the library without so much as looking back at you, and your left staring at an empty chair trying to process the words of the boy you’d clearly hurt.

Pansy watches as you flop on her bed and continue to ramble about the weird conversation with Theo. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

You shoot up. “What?”

She gives you an unamused look. “Yes, Theo fucks around. But who doesn’t? And he’s the nicest about it. He doesn’t give any false pretenses.” You frown as you cross your arms. “He’s never dated anyone, you know? He doesn’t like the idea of falling for someone. And he’s never lied to girls about that. Besides he’s liked the same girl since first year. He’s quite attached to her, though he’s probably never going to admit it.”

You sit up a little straighter, waiting for her to continue. “Theo… Theo’s been through a lot. He needs someone who will listen to him, really listen to him, because it’s rare he talks about his feelings at all.”

“Why don’t you date him then, if you know him so well?” She rolls her eyes and gives you that same blank stare.

“Like I said. He’s down bad for a girl he’s barely spoken to but watches almost every second of every day. And I like girls.” You smile a little at her though you do have an odd clench in your chest as you look down at your hands. “Are you seriously that oblivious?” You snap your eyes back up to hers.

“What?”

“Theo has liked you since first year, you idiot! And the one time I finally got him to talk to you, you tell him you think he’s an unemotional ass?” You are taken aback by Pansy’s snapping, yet find yourself thinking about the times you’ve caught him staring. Normally it’s with Pansy and you’ve always just assumed he was annoyed at her for being friends with you, but the more you think about it, you remember how it’s always happened. Even before you and Pansy were friends.

“Oh.”

Pansy rolls her eyes again. “Yeah. Oh.”

The next day you find yourself sitting next to Pansy taking the test you’d been cramming for all week with Theo. Midway through your hand is in your hair and you find yourself drifting off in your mind. It’s only when your eyes land on Theo do you remember how little time you have, and look back down at your paper.

A few times, you find yourself glancing up at Theo. Trying to remember the numerous questions he asked you and the answers you said in order to earn his soft smiles. At one point he looked over just as you did, and caught you staring. His brows knit together for a moment, and he glanced at the quill twirling in your hand. He gave you a small nod before looking down at his own test again, and you allowed yourself to do the same.

The next day when Snape handed back your papers you were shocked to find an E at the top of your paper. Exceeds Expectations.

You’d never gotten more than a Poor, or the one or two Acceptables. You stare at the paper and Pansy elbows you, finally drawing you out of your head. She nods at your paper and then toward the other side of the room where Theo was standing up and getting ready to leave. “Least you could do is say thank you,” she says before grabbing her own stuff and leaving.

Theo starts walking out alone seeing as Pansy had stolen Blaise and Mattheo hadn’t dawned the class with his presence that day. So you find yourself running after the tall boy alone in the corridor towards the slytherin dorms. “Nott!” He didn’t even flinch or acknowledge your presence so you call after him again. “Nott, come on!”

Finally you stop running and let out a breath. “Theo, please, just a minute?” This time he pauses and turns to face you.

“Will you stop yelling obnoxiously?” You smile a little and quickly walk up to him.

“Yes, in fact, I will.” You hold out the test for him, and he stares at you for a moment longer before taking it and assessing it. You see the small smile dawn his features and can’t help but smile a little wider as he tries to hide it. “I just wanted to thank you. For spending that time with me.”

“And being your good luck charm?” He looks back up at you and holds out the paper for you to take back. You do, but take a step closer to him as well.

“Yes, that too.” You chew on your lip for a moment before clearing your throat. “And I also need to apologize. I didn’t mean to make you upset the other day. I didn’t realize how bias I sounded until afterwards.” He clears his throat and looks anywhere but at you.

“Pansy talk to you?” You nod a little.

“Yes. But I’m glad she did.” He glances at you but doesn’t seem convinced. “And what Snape started talking about today already has me lost, so maybe you’d consider helping me again?”

His confusion is evident. “You want me to help you?” You nod a little and tilt your head.

“Does being alone with me sound that bad?” His jaw works for a moment, but you swear a small smile appears for a moment. “I’d like to spend some more time with you, if you’d like.”

“Careful, Y/L/N, it almost sounds like you want to hangout with a slytherin. And a fuck boy one at that.” You smile a little more and nod.

“When has that stopped me before? Enzo is much worse than you.” Theo smiles a little more again, and this time lets you see it.

“I’ll see you at the Black Lake tomorrow, the same time as usual.” You raise an eyebrow.

“The Black Lake?” Theo just nods and starts backing away.

“Yes, the library’s a bit stuffy. I’d never take someone I like there.” You can’t hide your surprise and Theo just waves you off. “Don’t act like I just proposed.” You laugh a little and shrug.

“Not yet but give me another week and I’ll have you on your knee.” Theo’s eyebrows raise and he smirks.

“We’ll see about that, love.”

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #slytherin #gryffindor #theodore nott fic

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lewisvinga · 9 months ago

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the best trophy | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; as much as lewis loved his and y/n’s fwb , he couldn’t help but want more. all it took was one grand moment for him to finally reveal his feelings

warnings; mentions of sex, cursing

word count; 1.12k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

notes; requested ! manifesting the ending of this fr, tbh not proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes 😭😭

masterlist !

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the race?”

Lewis's voice filled the once quiet room as he watched Y/n shuffle around his hotel room to put back on the sweatpants she came in.

“If you promise me that Mercedes Hospitality has oat milk for my coffee.” She joked, still somewhat out of breath from their previous activities.

“You know I always make sure.” His tone was soft, watching as she slipped on her fuzzy slippers and fixed her messy hair. He ignored how his heart hurt when she walked towards his hotel room door. “Can’t have your stomach ruining your mood, can we?”

“You’re the best, Lew.” She said with a smile, wiping away the bits of mascara from under her eye. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Of course, tomorrow.”

They exchanged smiles before she left, leaving the Mercedes driver alone to his thoughts. A disappointed sigh escaped from his lips once the door shut. The bed seemed emptier than usual. It was like she was never there. The only trace of her was the scent of sex that remained in the room.

Lewis liked his friends-with-benefits situation with Y/n. They were friends who fucked whenever one wanted to. Sure the sex was great, amazing even in his opinion, but after a few months, he realized how he wanted something else. He wanted something more.

He hated that his heart longed for her after they finished their deed. He hated how he wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her soft lips. He hated how he wanted to wake up with her in his arms and prepare breakfast for the both of them. He hated how he wanted to take her out on extravagant dates and gift her jewelry so expensive that you’d only ever gift them to your partner, not a friend.

And Lewis hated that he felt this way. He knew having any romantic feelings in a friends-with-benefits relationship would really ruin the friendship. He already treasured his friendship with Y/n and doubted she liked him romantically. The best choice was to just keep his feelings hidden out of fear of ruining the friendship.

He laid back and rested his head against his pillow. The same pillow that she was just laying her head against. His heart was heavy as his eyes fluttered shut with only Y/n on his mind.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n felt like she was about to faint as she watched Lewis start the very last lap of the race. Max was close behind him with George behind the Red Bull driver.

Her heart began to race as Lewis got closer and closer to the checkered flag. After losing the chance of his 8th world championship and Mercedes having a poor car while not listening to his suggestions, he had begun to lose faith. 2 years without a win and it was slowly killing him.

Thanks to a mistake from Red Bull during a pit stop, Lewis quickly gained the lead with around 15 laps to go and defended exceptionally from Max. He was seconds away from winning potentially one last time with Mercedes.

Time seemed to pass by slowly as Lewis passed the checkered flag.

“He has done it again! He breaks his own record and is now a 104x race winner! Lewis Hamilton wins the 2024 British Grand Prix! That’s a double podium for Mercedes!”

The Mercedes garage turned into a blur from everyone screaming and cheering at the race results. Y/n couldn’t hold back her tears and cheers as Bono shook her from excitement.

“C’mon, Y/n!” The engineer exclaims, grabbing her by the arm as they rush to the Parc Fermé. She ran after him, clutching her bag as she let out a laugh. She could see the 7-time world champion park his car into the 1st place spot from a distance.

Lewis was as emotional as ever. He finally got over a rough and dark patch. After Abu Dhabi 2021, after 2 years without a win, after having to deal with a poor car, he finally achieved the 104th win of his career. However, there was still something or someone he wanted to win.

He could see Y/n standing off to the side of the crowd of Mercedes workers. She wore a wide smile, wiping away her tears as she waited for him to get out of his car.

He knew he couldn’t hold his feelings anymore. He knew there was a time and place and tried to hold himself back as he ran over to his team. They all knock on his helmet, pat his back, and shout all due to being filled with happiness from his win.

He quickly took off his helmet and balaclava and was about to head over to her when he was stopped for his post-race interview. He glanced at her but she waved her hand, signaling him to go do the interview.

However, the moment it was over, Lewis ran over to Y/n instead of into the cooldown room. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he grabbed onto her waist, holding her close.

“Fuckin’ hell, Lewis, you’re something else-“

“Y/n, I can’t hold myself back any longer”. He quickly said, giving her waist a gentle squeeze. She furrowed up her eyebrows in confusion however a glint in his eyes told her enough.

“And I’m scared as fuck that you won’t like what I’m about to say. But I’ve been feeling like this for ages and I-“

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at his nervousness. She knew Lewis was about to go on a rant. She loosely runs her fingers through his braids causing him to stop speaking. “Lew?”

“Yeah?”

She pulled him closer, their lips just centimeters away from each other. “I’ve been feeling the same.” She whispers, glancing up at him through her lashes. His deep brown eyes widened in shock and joy.

Instead of saying anything, Lewis gently cups her cheeks before finally closing the small space between their lips. Their lips fit perfectly together as if they were made just for each other. Even if they’ve kissed during their late-night sessions, this kiss was different. It was sensual or lust-filled, it was filled with passion and love.

They both pulled away breathlessly, ignoring how the Mercedes team cheered at their kiss especially George who had to deal with all of their longing looks.

“So does this mean you’ll officially be mine?” He says, resting his forehead against hers.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Lewis lets out a breathy chuckle, tucking a strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. Before leaning in to kiss her again, he whispered, “You’re better than any win. You’re the best trophy I could get.”

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton scenarios #lewis hamilton imagine

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itsonlyjoseph · 16 days ago

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Make Me Bleed || Eddie Munson x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N wants to find a way to thank Eddie

Warnings: some angst

Word count: 4.3k

Part 1

You had been trying to wrap your head around the interaction with Eddie all day, the next day. You hadn’t yet listened to the Walkman Eddie gave you or the tape he left with it.

You wanted to, but you were nervous. Nervous for what exactly, you weren’t sure. But nervous nonetheless. At school, you had planned to leave a note in Eddie’s locker, asking to speak privately with him. You were going to say thank you for replacing your Walkman but that you needed to know why he hated you so much. But he wasn’t at school. Again.

You wanted to ask Eddie’s friends but they were even scarier than he was so that was out of the question.

You decided to cut your losses and just forget out it until you saw him.

Later that day, after school, you were laying on her bed, curled up like a fetus with your headphones over your ears and Eddie’s Walkman sitting next to you.

You were listening to the tape he gave you as well.

It definitely wasn’t your kind of music, but in a weird you kind of liked it. Kind of like Eddie. He was the same. You just couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

By the time Saturday came around, you hadn’t seen Eddie in a few days.

You knew that he played guitar in a heavy metal band because gossip flew around the school like crazy, plus you’d seen him carrying a guitar case out of the Hideout once.

You were probably way out of line but you decided to best course of action was to go watch him play tonight and then hope to speak to him afterwards. It was probably a bad idea for many reasons. You had no idea if Eddie would even give you the time of day and the bar was pretty sketchy on a good day.

It almost 9 pm when you decided to get ready and cycle over. You didn’t really dress up. This was just meant to be a conversation and a quick thank you for the Walkman. Nothing else.

You’d arrived at bar almost 40 minutes later. The street was dark and dungy and there were some questionable people around. Most older, tatted biker dudes and a plenty of old groupies that would have been beautiful 25 years ago.

Walking in, the air was stale and smokey, making it hard to see and navigate around. The bar was decently packed as well. After all, the Hideout was the only bar in town that allowed all kinds of people in. It definitely didn’t discriminate the way some of the nicer cocktail bars in town did.

You stuck out like a sore thumb. It was obvious you didn’t belong here and it was obvious that your anxiety levels were through the roof.

You saw the stage. It was small and covered in carpet and had a lonely drum set and amps and guitar stands but no band members. You had no idea if Eddie even played on Saturdays but you figured you’d take your chances since the last time you saw him outside the bar, was a Saturday.

You excused yourself to no one in particular and tried to find the bathroom to freshen up and try to loosen your mind.

It was covered in graffiti and stickers and the mirrors were cracked but it offered some muffled silence. Looking in the mirror, your anxiety’s were sky rocketing. You didn’t dress like the people here or do your hair and makeup like them. You looked like a sheep amongst wolves, and it felt like they were waiting to tear you apart.

Walking back out into the main bar area, you decided to just go home. You’d never felt more out of place and suddenly your plan was sounding more and more stupid.

As you walked out towards the front door, you noticed that the band was making their way onto the stage. Eddie’s curly hair caught your eye and you stopped in your tracks. He wasn’t smiling or anything but he seemed for relaxed that usual. He seemed at peace.

The band started playing and Eddie lost himself in the music. And he was good. Very good. He was so good that he probably could’ve been a professional or famous.

They played several more songs as the night wore on and granted, it wasn’t your kind of music but you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him. His bangs stuck to his forehead and his arms glistened with sweat.

It was making you question why you came here.

It almost 2 am when they finish up their set. You didn’t realise just how much time had passed until you looked at your wristwatch. The crowd cheered as the band members made their way off the stage.

Now that the prospect of talking to Eddie was getting closer, you decided to test your luck at bar and order a shot just to calm yourself. You hadn’t really ever had alcohol besides a few sips of your dad’s beer and half a wine at Christmas.

“What’ll it be?” The bartender asked. He could probably tell you were underage just from your body language but something told you this wasn’t the establishment that cared too much.

“Uh, just a shot of… uh..” you tried to squint your eyes at the shelf behind him. “Uh, that one.” You said pointing to a miscellaneous bottle of clear liquid.

The bartender chuckled humourlessly before grabbing the bottle and pouring a shot to place in front of you.

“Here, first one’s on the house.”

“Oh, well then I want another.” You said, quickly downing the shot. It burned more than you thought it would and tasted terrible.

You slapped a five dollar bill on the bar and downed the second shot. That one burned even more than the first one.

Considering you’d never really had alcohol before, definitely not like that, you felt a little dizzy. And hot. This wasn’t a nice feeling and why people actually did this for fun, you didn’t understand.

You saw Eddie’s mop of hair walked over to him. He was turned to you, chatting to someone with a beer in his hand when you tapped his shoulder. Eddie turned, ready to tell whoever to fuck off. He didn’t expect to turn around and see you standing before him.

“Y/N?” Eddie muttered, confused to see you.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, Eddie’s large hand gripped around your elbow and yanked you into the hallway that lead to the bathroom. It was significantly quieter with far less people.

“What the hell are you doing here? This isn’t the kind of place you should be.” He said, clearly frustrated.

“Uh, I wanted to see you.” You mumbled, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Eddie paused for a moment.

“Why?” He questioned.

“I wanted to speak to you. I-I didn’t really get a chance to say thank you for apologising and for-for the Walkman.”

“Yeah, well you just did so leave.” He huffed.

“Why did you? You didn’t have to give that to me. I was gonna save up for a new one.”

It almost seemed like Eddie didn’t know what to say. Like he didn’t know the answer himself.

“Thank you, though.” You said. You figured Eddie wouldn’t say anything else.

“That’s the only reason you came here?” He asked and you nodded.

“Uh, I guess I’ll go now. You played really great. I recognised some songs from that tape you gave me.”

As you turned to leave, Eddie called out to you one more time.

“You don’t have a car.” He said to which you simply shook your head. “So you rode that bike here?”

You said nothing.

“You can’t ride your bike home at this hour. Especially not in this part of town.”

You hadn’t thought about that but he was right. Biking home after work was scary enough, let alone at almost 3 am.

“Oh, uh, I’ll be okay. I can’t really call my dad. He’d kill me if he knew I was here.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“It’s okay Eddie, you should stay with your friends.”

“No, I’ll drive you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

What Eddie had said made your tummy drop. You didn’t really know if he meant here or just in general but you chose not to question it.

You followed Eddie out to the parking lot. It was still warm enough and there was a light breeze in the air.

Eddie drove a van, you knew that much.

“Wait, I thought your uncle said you lost your license again?”

“Like that’s ever stopped me.” Eddie mumbled, opening the passenger door for you.

Once you were sat in the van, Eddie stopped and looked at you. “Listen, just stay here for a sec. I need to get my guitar and then I’ll take you home. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled softly. He didn’t return it.

Eddie walked off, back inside the bar and you sat back, taking a breath.

The alcohol was wearing off and the fatigue was setting in. You never stay up this late and felt your eyelids getting heavier and heavier until you drifted off into a relaxing slumber.

Eddie returned moments later and loaded his guitar into the back of the van, making his way into the drivers seat.

“Okay, so where do you li-“ Eddie began to say but stopped himself when he saw your eyes closed and your lashes gently resting against your cheeks. Gentle snores were coming from your mouth and Eddie couldn’t bring himself to wake you up.

He didn’t have enough gas to just drive around until you woke up and he didn’t want to sleep in the van so he did the only thing he could think of.

He took you to his place.

He wasn’t sure how you’d react when you woke up in the morning but he’d try his best to not scare you off.

It wasn’t long until he pulled up to the trailer park, parking next to Wayne’s truck.

Eddie opened the passenger door and took a deep breath, hoping you could chew him out later. He unclipped your seatbelt and picked you up bridal style, carrying you up the steps and into the unlocked trailer.

Wayne was inside, snoozing on the couch. He didn’t work weekends and took that as an opportunity to actually sleep at nighttime.

Eddie carried you down the hallway and into his bedroom, careful not to hit your head on the door frame, and gently placed you down on his unmade bed.

You unconsciously curled up into the pillow as your mouth fell open, those gentle snores coming back. Eddie looked down at you and sighed. He really was sorry for all the things he’s said to over the years. He probably didn’t mean them. Or maybe he did and he’s just a terrible person. It wouldn’t surprise him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.

Eddie knew that it wouldn’t be right to sleep in the bed next to you, especially without your knowledge, so he wondered over to his desk and sat down. He probably would’ve slept on the couch if Wayne wasn’t out there. Eddie felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier until he laid his head down on the desk and drifted off to sleep. Luckily for him, it wasn’t the comfiest sleeping position so he was tossing and turning all night, meaning he woke up before you when the sun was out.

He lifted his head with a groan, his neck feeling much tighter than the night before.

Eddie turned and looked over at you, laying in his bed sound asleep. You looked so peaceful and calm to him. His mind once again went to all the nasty things he’s ever said and done to you over the years.

He got from his desk and left the bedroom. Wayne was up when Eddie got into the kitchen. Making a cup of coffee, ready to head out to the porch for his morning cigarette.

“What’s wrong with you?” Wayne mused when he saw the tired, stiff look on Eddie’s face.

“Didn’t sleep good.” He mumbled.

“Why not?”

“Because my bed is occupied.” He deadpanned, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Wayne stopped what he was doing and turned slightly to look at the back of Eddie’s head.

“By who?”

“Just a girl from school.”

Wayne’s eyebrows raised as he turned fully to face Eddie. Eddie has never mentioned a girl before and has never even mentioned being interested in one.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Eddie huffed, angrily.

Wayne put his hands up in mock surrender at Eddie’s abrasiveness. “Okay, okay, just make sure you’re being safe.”

“It’s not like that!” Eddie raised his voice. Wayne knew Eddie had a bit of an anger problem. He inherited that from his father. He also knew that Eddie had trouble expressing his emotions.

“Then… what’s it like?” Wayne pressed, curious.

“It’s like… I don’t know! It’s not like anything!”

“Okay, Eddie.” Wayne said, walking to the front door as Eddie went back to his bedroom.

Sometime during the night, Eddie managed to remove his shirt. The trailer was always so hot at night that it was almost impossible to sleep in clothes unless it was winter time.

He didn’t have the heart to wake you up just yet, enjoying this foreign feeling of peace for the moment. He opened up his window and sat under it, at the end of the bed. Leaning against the wall, he lit a cigarette and felt the breeze from outside float through his hair.

Eddie was half way through his cigarette when you began to stir in your sleep. He looked over and saw your eyes opening gently. And he got nervous. Would you yell at him for bringing you here?

“What time is it?” Your gentle sleep filled voice the room, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Uh, around 7.”

“I guess I fell asleep before you could take me home.” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Yeah, I, uh, didn’t wanna’ wake you.” Eddie stubbed out his cigarette.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I bombarded you at your hang out spot and then took up the rest of your night.” You muttered.

“It’s okay.”

“You seemed… mad that I was there.”

“I just didn’t expect to see you in a place like that.”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

Eddie huffed, as if the laugh humourlessly. “Full of bad people, though.” Eddie looked up at you and suddenly liked the way you looked sitting in his bed with messy hair and sleep in your eyes. “Why do you think I’m there?” He tried to joke. Key word being tried.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Eddie.” You said softly.

“You’d be the first.” He mumbled so quietly you barely even heard it.

You moved out of the bed to sit on top of the covers, only a few feet of space between you and Eddie.

“Actually, there was another reason I came to see you last night.”

Eddie looked up from his hands when you moved closer.

“I wanted to ask you… why don’t you like me? What did I do?” You asked and Eddie saw the saddest in your eyes.

Eddie let out a shallow breath and looked down at his hands again.

“I don’t know.” He said softly.

You gulped and felt a pit in your stomach at that.

“Oh, um… did I do anything?”

“You’re happy… have a good dad.” Eddie was ashamed but he didn’t want to lie.

“Ya know Eddie, despite what Principle Higgins said to you, that doesn’t have to be your life. You could do anything.”

“Yeah like what?” Eddie spoke at a normal volume this time, his voice holding a frustrated edge. “Go off and be a doctor or a lawyer and marry some girl from the right side of town, have a bunch kids with a white picket fence? Huh?” Eddie was getting angrier now. He’d rose off the bed and was standing now. “You think there’s anything in the cards for me that’s not prison or something very similar?”

As Eddie paced around his bedroom, spitting out horrible things about himself, you suddenly realised why Eddie was the way he was. He was scared. He was scared because he knew what his life would be. He knew that his fathers influenced affected him. He needed someone to tell him that he wasn’t his father. He didn’t someone to care about.

“Ugh!” Eddie huffed and growled, frustrated. He drug his palms into his eyes and gripped the hair at his hairline.

You got up from the bed and walked over the Eddie, gripping his wrists gently and pulling them from his eyes. He flinched slightly at the contact.

“It’s okay, Eddie. You don’t know how your life is gonna turn out. It doesn’t have to be like that.” You said softly as you looked up at him.

Eddie stared down at you with his eyebrows furrowed. His expression was once again unreadable but he didn’t try to remove his wrists from your hands. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, not knowing what to say so he just kept staring at you.

Suddenly, a gentle knock came, breaking you both out of each others gaze.

“Eddie, I’m g- oh Y/N, hi.” Wayne said, opening the Eddie’s bedroom door. Look on his face showed that he was confused by the situation.

“Hi Wayne.” You smiled sweetly at him.

“Uh, I’m heading into town so I’ll be back later. Do you two need anything?” Wayne asked. He couldn’t help the smile on his face. He figured his nephew was probably gonna start dating or hooking up with people soon if not already. He was a teenager after all. With Eddie’s personality and attitude, Wayne was nervous that the first girl he picked up would be some easy bimbo that would wind up pregnant and he’d be a teen dad, so when Wayne saw that it was you standing in Eddie bedroom with him, he was elated.

“Okay.” Eddie answered him, his face hard.

“Nice to see you, sweetheart.” Wayne nodded at you, closing the door.

“Listen, Y/N, you don’t have to waste your breath on me. I know what’s gonna happen to me and so do you. Just drop it.” Eddie moved to sit on the edge of the bed, finally breaking away from your grip. “Besides, girls like you shouldn’t hang around with guys like me.”

“I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t believe it, Eddie. I really believe you can do anything.” You said, sitting beside him on the bed. You were closer than you’d ever been.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes you do.” You reaffirmed as you took his hand. Eddie had never really felt his close to someone before. It made his spine tingle. The physical contact, plus the words of affirmation made him feel things he didn’t like. “You deserve everything.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Eddie mumbled, looking right at you.

Tingles ran down your spine at his words. You were confused. You thought he didn’t like you.

“Do you-do you want me?” You were scared of the answer but wanted to know so badly.

Eddie huffed. “Doesn’t matter.”

Before you could respond or even process what he has said, Eddie stood up and walked to the door.

“I’ll get your bike out of my van.”

Once you were alone, you breathed deeper than you has all morning. You wanted to know what Eddie meant but you didn’t want to push him or annoy him.

You walked out of Eddie’s trailer to see your bike leaning against the steps and Eddie’s van gone, him nowhere in sight.

You cycled home and felt conflicted. What did Eddie mean? Did he hate you or not? Did he want you like that? Did you want him like that?

When you got home, your dad was out in the garage, working on his car. You ditched your bike near the garage door and walked up to him.

“Hey dad, what are you doing?” You asked.

“Oh, hi pet. Where were you last night?” You dad said as he looked up.

“With a friend.” You offered.

“Oh, okay. I’m just trying to fix this damn timing belt.” He chuckled.

You gulped. “Dad, can I ask you something.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” He asked without looking away from the cars engine.

“It’s about a boy.” You mumbled. That made your dad look up.

“What about it?”

“Well, this guy at school. Everyone seems to think he’s a bad person and honestly, I kind of did to for a while but lately I’ve seen a different side to him. I know he’s a good person, he’s just trouble and didn’t have a great upbringing. How am I supposed to make him see that he’s not the loser he thinks he is?”

“Hm. That’s a lot to take in. Why is this boy so important? Maybe he really is a loser.”

“He’s not. He’s actually really talented and I can tell that there’s more to him than he shows people. I think he just needs someone to depend on.”

“Who is this boy, anyway?” Your dad asked.

“Uh, It’s Eddie Munson.”

Your father looked at you with a worried look on his face.

“Petal, I don’t think I like the idea of you hanging around that Munson boy. I knew his father-“

“But that’s the thing, dad” you cut him off. “I know that Eddie’s nothing like his dad. People have told him that he’d be nothing, just like his dad his whole life and I know that it’s not true.”

Your dad took in your words and thought for a moment. It’s true that he knew Eddie’s dad back in high school and saw what a trouble maker he was and the petty criminal he turned out to be. But he also knew that you didn’t chose where you came from and that you were a smart girl.

“Okay, sweetie. If you think so. I know you’ll make the right choice

“I hope so”

“All you can do is be there for him. Show him you won’t leave and show him that he matters.”

“Thanks dad.”

“You’re a kid, Y/N. I’m lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have you as my dad.” You smiled up at him.

“Get outta’ here.” He chucked.

You smiled and ran upstairs to your room. You wanted to go and find Eddie and tell him that you’d be there for him and that he deserved happiness as much as anyone else but you had no idea where he went and you didn’t have his number.

Tomorrow was Monday and Monday meant school. You hoped that Eddie would be there so you talk to him again.

That night you went to sleep with a heavy heart and your tummy in knots and in the morning you spent a little extra time in front of the mirror. You brushed out your hair and applied your makeup and picked your outfit just a little bit more careful than usual.

At school, the hallway was crowded as you hung around Eddie’s locker. You didn’t actually know if he went to it often or not but this was your only option right now. When the hallways emptied after the final bell, you made your way over.

Last night, you had written a note to slip into Eddie’s locker.

‘Eddie, meet me at the picnic table in the woods after school - Y/N’

6 and half hours later, you were sat in the woods, alone, hoping that Eddie would show up.

Your palms were sweating and your knee was bouncing. You kept taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. You hadn’t really thought about what you would say if Eddie showed up.

“Hey.” You heard a low grumbled behind you.

You turned quietly to be met with Eddie’s hard face.

He slowly walked over to the other side of the table and sat down, dumping his jacket on the old wood.

“Why’d you call me out here?�� He asked.

“I wanted to talk. Talk about what you said yesterday in your room.”

“Y/N, just forget about it-“

“I like it when you say my name.” You cut him off, looking down.

Eddie didn’t really know how to respond to that. All of yesterday afternoon, his thoughts were plagued with you. The way you were so kind to after he’d been awful to you. You way your hand felt over his. The way his spine tingled when he remembered Wayne called you his girlfriend. He’d never felt like this before.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I really did mean it when I said you can do anything.” You smiled.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” He asked.

“Because I can see that you’re a good person under that hard shell. And I want you to know that I… I guess I care.”

“You care about me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

You took a deep breath and rose from the bench, walking around and sitting down besides Eddie.

“When you said you didn’t deserve me, what did you mean?” You whispered.

“Y/N..”

“Please tell me.”

“I don’t want to drag you down with me. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. No matter how much I want to be near you, I can’t.” He whispered back.

“You won’t drag me down, Eddie.”

“I drag everyone down, Y/N.”

“I’m not everyone.”

Eddie’s eyes glazed over like he was lost in thought as he stared into your eyes. He’d seen plenty of attractive women in his time. At school, at The Hideout, on the street. None of them looked back at him the way you were right now.

“Eddie…” you whispered, scooting closer. “Kiss me.”

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