#she used to do it to me everyday before school
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chaoticwriting · 16 hours ago
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YOU ARE MARRIED!!??3
Part 2
It's been a week since Ellie arrived at the manor. All the guests from the night of Ellie's arrival had already returned by that night. And so far, they haven't managed to pry open any more information about their brother-in-law from Ellie that they already didn't know of.
Currently, Ellie is sitting in the living room drawing on her green notebook while eating fruit snacks that Alfred prepares. Cass is watching over her, occasionally asking her what she is drawing.
Except for Cass and Alfred, everyone else is either at work or at school. Suddenly, a portal opens and comes out Cujo with a bag that has Ellie's name on it. So far, Cujo has been delivering Ellie's essential almost everyday for the past week. Whenever Ellie or Cass ask him about Danny, Cujo just shakes his head meaning either he doesn't know or he can't tell them.
Cujo also never stays for long and just jumps away whenever his delivery is done. But to their surprise, Cujo is not alone today. A woman in punk clothing and blue flaming hair follows after Cujo holding a guitar in her hand. Ellie perks up when she sees Ember coming out of the portal.
Ellie: Aunt Ember!
Ember: Hey Ellie. How are you doing? I assume you have been eating well.
Ellie: Yes! Everyone is so nice. Alfred always brings me snacks if I want to and grandpa Bruce buys me a lot of things.
Ember: Good good. I'm just here to say hi and check up on you. Your papa has been worrying a lot since he sent you here.
Ellie: Aunt Ember, when will papa finish his job? I miss him.
Ember: I don't know but for now you stay with your mama, okay? I will tell your papa to deal with his job quicker.
Ellie: Okay. :(
Ember then turns towards Cass and smiles at her.
Ember: Hey Cass. I'm Ember. Danny's friend. Sorry about the late greetings.
Cass: It's fine. About Danny, can I know what his job actually is?
Ember: Errmm, it's not that I don't want to tell. It's just I feel like you should ask him directly since even I don't know what his actual job is. Usually, Clockwork just calls him and off him go to wherever or whenever he sends him.
Cass: I see. But can I know if he is okay?
Ember: As far as I can tell, he is fine. Clockwork hasn't asked any of us for back up yet, so his mission is probably going well.
Suddenly, Bruce enters the living room seeing Ember and Cass talking.
Bruce: Why hello there miss. How can I help you?
Ember: *Stares*
Bruce: Errmm, miss?
Ember: You are that guy that got sent back and forth in time wasn't it? I remember your face from one of Danny's missions.
Bruce: What?
Ember: Yeah. You are Bruce Wayne, right? The Batman.
Bruce: How do you know about me?
Ember: It's not hard when your bestfriend is the one that helps one of his favorite heroes to escape forced time travel.
Bruce: Danny helps me back then?
Ember: Yeah. But at that time, he was mostly chasing after Plasmius. It is a coincidence he met you so he sent you back home first before he continued chasing Plasmius.
Cass: This Plasmius guy, how dangerous is he?
Ember: Ehh, depends on his sanity to be honest. One day, he might come to just fight you, another day he might try to release an interdimensional tyrant from his long slumber. So it's really random.
Cass: And this time?
Ember: Oh did Ellie tell you they are chasing Plasmius? I don't actually know what he is planning this time. Clockwork is being his cryptid ass again and not telling the whole story.
Bruce: Is this Clockwork safe?
Ember: Well, he is okay. I think he adopted Danny at one point so you could call him his adopted parents. But Danny also has real parents so there is that. Overall, he wouldn't allow any significant harm to fall onto Danny or anyone close to him unless he knows that is the best solution possible.
Ember: Oh well, I need to go now. Have a concert to attend to. Bye Ellie.
Ellie: Bye Aunt Ember! Bye Cujo!
Cujo gives out a bark and opens a portal. Both of them enter the portal and disappear from the living room. Bruce has that serious calculating look on his face while Cass just takes everything and processes them. She trusts his husband's judgement. And since she is with Cujo and Danny trusts Cujo, that means whoever Ember is, she is probably a friend.
Bruce goes to his study to enter the Batcave, while Cass and Ellie continue playing in the living room.
-Somewhere else-
A young man with white hair and black and white hazmat suit is flying across an urban city as he chases after a vampire-like older man that is holding a bracelet giving off a green light.
Danny: Give me the bracelet, Plasmius!
Plasmius: You gotta take it from my own hand, little badger!
Danny shoots an ecto beam towards Plasmius as he dodges the attack coming from Danny. Danny being agitated, tries to fly faster but he is already going as fast as he can.
'I wish I could just appear in front of him.'
Suddenly, Danny's vision goes black and when his vision comes again, he sees Plasmius rushing to him. Plasmius is shocked to see Danny suddenly in front of him and tries to maneuver away from him, but at such close distance, there is no way for him to outrun Danny.
Catching his wrist, Danny puts a collar that Clockwork specifically made for Plasmius. Plasmius turns back into a human and if not for Danny holding his wrist, would have fallen down from the sky.
Danny, seeing Plasmius unconscious, processes what just happened. Did he just teleport? How? He doesn't even know how to open a portal. He kind of just wishes it and it happened.
A green portal appears in front of him, cutting off his thoughts. Danny sighs as he doesn't even know what is going on. He should probably return first and ask Clockwork what is happening.
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inkprilled · 11 hours ago
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We connect with people without words everyday, some hold a door open, you share a smile with someone at the bus stop or  when passing by each other on a walk, we say I don't know you but I see you, here we both are living together on this little rock, living this little life that is all to fleeting but so worth it.
It reminds me of a friend I had in school. Diane moved from Russia when we where 13, she didnt speak much English, and the few Russian speakers at our school where so much younger than her that she barely saw them. I remember seeing her in the corridor outside our first science lesson, she was leant against the dark green tiles lining the walls, her school uniform brand new and her hair dyed auburn. Everyone had already grouped up with their friends, talking and laughing so loudly it created this mass of sound that only kids can make just before a lesson. My science class was rather chaotic and hyper. Diane stood silent away from everyone.
I wasn't known as the most outgoing in our class, if anything most would have described me as shy, but really I just never had much to say. Seeing her there though, I knew I had to say something, I knew none of the other girls would try and bring her into their social fold, so I went up to her.
"Hi, are you new" she looked at me hesitantly as she tried to piece together bits of language in her head "Yes, I'm Diane" 
"I'm April" there was a beat of silence, neither of us knew what to say and I wasn't the best at small talk, so instead I just looked towards the rest of our class and said "they're a little" and I made a large frazzled gesture with my hands, trying to encapsulate the chaos. She looked from me to them and laughed nodding.
After that we'd sit with each other in all our shared lessons, at the beginning I would write her work for her and I know I probably shouldnt have. but when your 13 and your friend is freaking out over homework being due or not having her notes written down you just end up doing it. Eventually we realised she could write her English assignments in Russian then put them into Google translate, and then I'd re-write them  grammatically correct. This wasn't perfect but it's not like she had a language aid or anything so we made do. Our jokes usually consisted of calling each other suka or using our made up gesture - a sideways palm from the centre of our forehead down to the table. It meant get a load of this nonsense, ffs or I'm an idiot, usually used when someone was making a fuss in lesson or when we'd make a silly mistake.
We didn't need words, not when we had laughter and silly little gestures, sometimes I felt closer to her than with friends I'd had for years. I guess what we have now is a language made up of vine and tiktok references, that you could giggle with someone over even when your language didn't translate. And in some ways we're more connected over those trends and references than anything else despite the language barriers. We connect over joy, humour and humanity.
Diane moved back to Russia before we turned 16. I don't know where she is now or how much she remembers of me, but I do treasure our friendship. Wherever you are suka I hope your okay. I miss you.
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loveluststerek · 10 days ago
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Buck randomly one day at the fire station: Eddie says if he dies, he’ll let me know he’s around by turning a light on when I have a nightmare.
*Silence*
Buck, unperturbed: if I die I’ll turn the oven off when he leaves it on
Hen: yeah that’s completely normal hetero bro behaviour
Also Hen, looking up from her phone: Karen says she’ll open the bedroom curtains a little bit so I’ll always see the stars
Eddie: THERE IS NO WAY YOU JUST OUT-CUTED US AT OUT OWN IDEA
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cherrysnax · 9 months ago
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havin the weirdest crisis of my life
#this is like. did related so im gonna sound completely uh#what’s the word. odd and shit for a sec okay? okay#so I’ve been here. hi im cheri silver yknow me for about 20 years total but jay used to front for years when we were in middle school#im not the. original host I guess but I’ve been around since#we were in the early single digits and never left#so im the host right? I existed to go thru the Trauma#but. it’s been my life for so long. my parents don’t know Her#they’ve only known me#but like. we’re finally starting to let go of that trauma#errr not let go but make peace with it. and we’ve been holding onto it for so long. I’ve been holding on to it for so long#but.. who am I without it? like yes that’s my trauma but also. is my purpose over?? is that why we haven’t been able to draw?#I’ve been the host for 20 years this is my life#my friends my gf my life my hobbies it’s mine not anyone else’s#I let others take the wheel when I can’t (or they forcibly do it for me) and jays been gone for like 3 years he only came back because I’ve#been being traumatized everyday recently. but like. will I have to go too??#reintergration is not really our goal. never has been but like#if we do. will I be here or will She come back? we’ve had false alarms before but it’s mostly been decided that it’s my front my life#maybe im just triggered all the time and that’s why I feel extra out of it#less myself#New Traumas are happening to us everyday#but yeah. I dont talk abt this aspect of my life much but it’s so scary to think about#I’ll talk to Chevy when they get off of work tomorrow abt it if it’s still like. freaking me out#I am me. we are a bunch of niggas but I am me.#did niggas when the identity disorder makes them dissociate smh#😫
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justxaxstrayxkid · 2 years ago
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Small and low quality Mizuchi ft smol baby Yato
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It's been a while. I miss these posts :(
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solidsnakepenis · 2 months ago
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sorry men it turns out i might not be a wanted man
#and i will keep waking up everyday#I'm upset that I'll never see my parents again because my stupid brother says he didn't sexually assault me#now i know they want to keep their favourite investment living in their house. they like him. he's got a good job. he went to uni.#there isn't enough space in their family for a man who sexually assaulted his sister and the man who used to be that sister.#a community or sphere which support abusers will drive away victims by enacting further abuse on them#the house i grew up in was a sphere like that#and now i cut them all off. they don't get to meet my friends. i can never send a cool weird song to my dad again.#I'm never going to watch the sunrise from my old bedroom window ever again#I'll never see the cats again. the last time they saw me they were scared. i wish i could've kissed them once more#it wasn't like i spoke to my family very often after i moved out and before all this. i kept a lot of it to myself.#i have a life without them. a nice life i think. i don't regret standing up for myself and talking about the assault#and I'm doing nothing wrong by telling people what a massive piece of shit my brother is and for demanding answers from him#I lost a lot of things in the process#i was sorting through all my life possessions for two weeks straight and barely kept any of it#like including school books from childhood. most of them binned. if i don't need it I'm not leaving it for my mum to faun over#she hates me. hates hates. her eyes are mean#she hates me as if I'm some daughter who cheated by being a man.#but I'm out now. it's over. my life begins. i hope i don't get sick. i worry about money.#i was gonna say i worry about being cringe in a city where reputation matters but like. IM NOT POSTING IRL DRAMA ON REDDIT. I THINK I'M OK
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street-smarts00 · 29 days ago
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Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do
Spencer Reid x Reader
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Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa. 
WC: 1.8k
Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)
Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present. 
This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer. 
What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true. 
You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present. 
You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas. 
While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game. 
“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked. 
He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully. 
“Are you at least winning?” 
He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.” 
That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift. 
Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work. 
Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts. 
“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ. 
JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief. 
“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her. 
JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition. 
He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you. 
“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box. 
Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely. 
You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out. 
“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile. 
Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?
You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.
“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.
When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face. 
Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold. 
“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.
Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots. 
“Did you paint this?” He asked.
You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.” 
A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia. 
“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.” 
The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless. 
“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face. 
“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick. 
The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan. 
The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you. 
You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved. 
Not that he had to know you loved him. 
He didn’t know that. Right? 
As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin. 
You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky. 
“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind. 
You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.
“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained. 
“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.” 
He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?” 
You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”
“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”
His eyes widened. “Oh um-“ 
He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.
“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”
You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“
“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured. 
“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift. 
“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”
”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.  
The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.
”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?” 
While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles. 
“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”
“But, that was three months ago.”
He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”
Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief. 
“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.” 
You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.” 
His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.
He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.” 
Your heart damn near stopped. 
“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness. 
“I’d love to,” you beamed. 
His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?” 
You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”
“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.” 
God he was cute. 
“That sounds great.”
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hyunsvngs · 11 months ago
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𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader
wc: 11.1k
cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment
synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.
a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re intrigued.
Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.
Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.
“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”
“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”
“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.
Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.
It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.
You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.
Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.
“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”
“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”
“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”
Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”
“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”
“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”
“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”
“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”
“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”
“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.
His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”
Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.
Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”
You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”
“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”
“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.
“It’s not a crush-”
“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.
“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”
Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.
The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.
A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.
It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?
The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.
Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.
The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-
A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.
“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”
“I-I-”
“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”
“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”
“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.
You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?
What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.
“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.
It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.
Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…
In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.
Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-
A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.
Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.
Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”
He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”
You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”
“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”
He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”
He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”
“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”
“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”
You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”
He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”
You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.
“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”
“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”
“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.
“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”
“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”
“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”
You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”
“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”
“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”
“I’m not telling you that-”
“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”
“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”
He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”
“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”
“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”
“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”
“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”
“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”
He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”
You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”
“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”
“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”
“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”
“Can I know?”
He turns to you. “Know what?”
“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”
He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”
“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”
“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”
You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?
Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”
You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.
First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?
Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.
Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.
Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.
You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.
“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”
He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”
“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”
He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”
He gulps audibly. “Nope.”
“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”
“He, uh- really? Did he?”
“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”
Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”
“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.
Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.
“I knew it.”
He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.
“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”
“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”
He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”
You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.
“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”
“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.
“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”
You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.
“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”
“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”
You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.
“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”
He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”
“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”
Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.
You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.
“I- Jisung?!”
“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”
You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-
You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.
When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.
You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”
“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”
He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.
“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“
He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”
“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”
He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.
“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“
You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.
It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.
“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”
“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”
You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”
“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”
The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.
He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.
It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.
“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”
“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”
“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.
Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.
It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.
Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.
You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.
“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”
“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“
“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”
“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“
You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.
The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.
“You look fine.”
“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.
His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.
“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”
The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“
“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.
“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”
You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“
“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.
Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.
You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.
“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”
You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”
“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”
“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.
The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.
You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.
You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”
Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”
“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”
“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”
“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”
He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”
You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”
“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”
You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”
Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”
“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.
“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.
The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.
You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.
“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”
You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.
“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.
His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.
“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”
His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”
He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.
“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”
It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.
Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.
“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”
He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.
He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.
“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“
You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.
“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”
“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.
“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.
His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.
“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.
Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.
“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”
He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“
“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”
“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“
“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“
He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.
“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“
“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.
“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”
“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”
“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”
“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“
“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”
“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”
“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”
He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”
“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“
The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”
“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”
“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”
“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“
He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.
“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.
Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.
It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.
“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”
“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”
“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”
You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”
You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.
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tbaluver · 1 month ago
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Husband/ Father Headcanons- The Love And DeepSpace Men
order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi lovelies! i apologize that my reqs are coming supa late but i should finish and post them so soon after my school semester ends! i literally have so many in my drafts (╥﹏╥) i usually overthink my reqs which is why i take super long but here's some husband material to feed you all for now i hope ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ talk to you all so soon mwah (∩˃o˂∩)♡
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
He loves doing simple things with you like going to the supermarket. He’s read somewhere on the internet that that's what married couples are supposed to do on earth.
Morning routines with Xavier are always so warm and sweet. As you both get ready for the day, he’ll take your hand, carefully adjusting your wedding ring before giving it a soft kiss.
Whenever your newborn baby starts crying just as you’re both about to eat, he always prioritizes you. He’ll reassure you that you can go ahead and eat without him and enjoy your meal, promising you that he’ll take care of the baby.
You and Xavier share a special inside joke just between the two of you about the cute sounds your baby makes. Whether it’s the random babbling or their adorable squeals, always brings a smile and laugh to the both of you.
Xavier loves hearing and seeing your child laugh and will do absolutely anything to make them smile whether it’s through tickling, playing peekaboo, pulling silly faces, or using a high pitched voice
Lots of snuggles with you and your baby. You’d have your little one nestled safely right in the middle of the two of you as you all fall into deep slumber. He especially loves having his child rest on his chest while you snuggle up beside him.
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Zayne:
Whenever your baby girl starts walking or crawling, he’ll consistently clean the floors of the house multiple times to keep the floor clean for his baby girl and to also have a clean house in general.
Your daughter has her own little kitchen playset because she loves watching either of you cook. Sometimes, while Zayne’s busy with his patients reports, she’ll run up to him with a plate of her plastic food to share her ‘cooking’ with him. He loves to play along to see her adorable smile, pretending to savor it and tell her how delicious it is.
Whenever it’s a quiet time between the two of you, enjoying each other’s company and doing your own thing, Zayne often reaches over to gently rub his thumb against your wedding ring, often reminiscing about the day you two got married and a small smile curling on his lips.
Anytime you ask him to grab something for you while he’s out, he always goes the extra mile and adds a little something extra for you- and for him as well especially if it’s something sweet. If you ask for the next series of your favorite book you love, he’ll just get the entire collection so you can binge-read it right away. He’ll even pick up a copy of the book you’re currently reading so he can talk about it with you.
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Rafayel:
Everyday being married to you feels like a blessing from the gods. He wakes up in the morning to see your beautiful sleeping figure right beside him, wearing the wedding ring on your finger that ties you both together forever. Rafayel always greets you with something cheesy when you wake up like, “Hello my beautiful wife.” with a big smile on his face.
Rafayel flirts with you as if you haven’t been married for a couple years now and often says “I love you” with any chance he gets. “Heyy my lovely gorgeous wife, before you come home, do ya think you can pick me up some extra brushes? I think our little glub glubs hid them again...oh and by the way I love you!”
He always wears his ring. He can’t help but fidget with the ring whenever he starts to miss you, smiling as thinks about the day you both exchanged your vows.
After a long day at work, you can always find your lemurian children running up to greet you with your husband. Sometimes they like to show off their artwork they’ve all made together and most of the time it’s all just for you.
However he can always tell when you’re exhausted and drained, so he’ll gently excuse the kids, assuring them you’ll spend time with them later. For now he’s happy to entertain the children so you can get your rest. He’ll make up a random activity to keep the children busy so he can do small things for you like running a bath or preparing some meals for you
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Sylus:
Anytime Sylus and his baby girl are shopping, he’ll always ask her what she wants or what she prefers. He treats her like a princess just like her mommy.
“hmm....pink! no, red!...pink!”
“how about....we get both dear?”
and there’s something so adorable seeing her so happy that makes him feel so warm and fuzzy inside.
Sylus does not mind in any timeline or universe if you’re comfortable being provided for. He can afford it and nothing can hurt his card even if you tried.
As years go by, he’ll make sure your wedding ring isn’t getting worn out or has any chips in it. Not that it would ever get worn off from its high quality. If it does have any problems, he’s quick to get it fixed, making sure that your ring will always shine with you.
Before you both unwind for the night, he’ll gently kiss the back of your hand where your wedding ring rests, before slowly slipping it off for the night.
Anytime you’re home from a long day of work, he’s already outside waiting for you to take out things in your car so you don’t have to carry anything.
After a long shift, you can always come home to find a warm dinner waiting for you with your favorite drink. The house would be clean and your baby girl is already tucked in. He’ll sit by you at the dining table, a glass in his hand, sharing stories about his day or simply listening as you tell him about yours.
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months ago
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call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.
✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+
✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)
✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.
anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.
✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.
you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.
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Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.  
And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff  telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.  
It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.  
He's been doing it for three months, more or less. 
His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.  
It's not because you don't like him, alright? 
You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a  swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life. 
( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.  
You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.  
 "I've never seen you around  before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"  
You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you. 
"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”  
"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”  
He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.  
“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it." 
In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.  
Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he’s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable… 
Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.  
 Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.  
Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam. 
You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.  
"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.  
He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.  
"Why?"   
"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."  
Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.  
"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."  
He hums. "So you hit her?" 
You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."  
You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.  
"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"  
“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”  
The kid besides you smiles  absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts. 
He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."  
You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way." 
Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.  
"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."  
You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but 
You still give him your name. 
"What a pretty name," 
When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.  
And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)  
That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again  with good news. 
You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself. 
Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.  
But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread  - he was never anything more than an important mentor.  
It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.  
Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence. 
It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.  
You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life. 
You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.  
So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.  
You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.  
Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.  
He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.  
Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.  
You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.  
When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.  
In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.  
For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.  
That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.  
To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.  
He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue. 
(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.  
It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.  
"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"  
Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.  
"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."  
He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts  - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.  
Weird.  
"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."  
He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.  
"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."  
You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."  
He blinks, surprised.  
"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"  
"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."  
His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."  
You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."  
He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."  
You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"  
"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"  
You stare at him in disbelief.  
"Wha—huh?"  
He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.  
"I like you."  
"No the hell you don't."  
He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."  
"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't." 
"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."  
Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.  
You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.  
But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in? 
You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.  
"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic. 
 The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.  
And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt. 
What the fuck was that?)  
For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.  
The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.  
Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.  
Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.  
Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.  
Except. Except.  
Umemiya just won't give up.  
He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.  
He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.  
You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.  
But honestly? 
You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.  
But you're not going to to let him sway you.  
You've got principles, after all.  
__  
After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.  
It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.  
Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.  
You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.  
Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it. 
"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.  
"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still." 
"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.  
"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."  
The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.  
“Such a blatant lie.”  
Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”  
Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."  
"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.  
"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.  
"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"  
You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever." 
"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."  
You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"  
Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."  
"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"  
You sigh deeply. 
"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession," 
"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."  
You elbow Kotoha lightly.  
"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously.  "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"  
You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.  
Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on. 
__  
You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.  
Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.  
Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.  
(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)  
After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.  
You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.  
Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.  
You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.  
Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people. 
The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.  
The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.  
Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.  
"Sakura-chan would make a great wife." 
You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.  
"Go die."  
"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"  
"Shut up. I'll kill you."  
As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.  
"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."  
He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.  
"What the hell are you two talking about?" 
'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose. 
"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess." 
"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."  
"What's happening at work?" 
Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.  
"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."  
Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"  
A good question you hadn't considered asking.  
You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.  
"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"  
You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"  
"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."  
"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.  
You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.  
Nirei blushes, elbowing him.  
"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"  
You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"  
Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him." 
You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.  
"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."  
Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"  
You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though." 
Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."  
You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."  
"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."  
"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.  
He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."  
You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.  
The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.  
You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.  
__  
For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.  
No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses. 
But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.  
It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.  
He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.  
It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.  
At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.  
You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.  
"Oi. What's up with you?"  
"Hm?"  
You cross your arms over your chest.  
"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"  
He stares at you.  
"You noticed?"  
"How could I not notice?"  
"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.  
"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"  
He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.  
He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face. 
"Do you know that I like you?"  
Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.  
This is what he wants to talk about? 
He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.  
"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?" 
Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.  
"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday." 
"But do you get it?"  
Your frown deepens.  
"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"  
He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"  
Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.  
"...Never said that." 
He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look." 
You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?  
One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.  
Damn it.  
"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"  
Umemiya frowns at you.  
"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."  
You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.  
After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.  
"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"  
He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.  
"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it," 
"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.  
He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly. 
"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"  
You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"  
"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."  
A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone  - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.  
You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation. 
You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk. 
"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"  
He pauses before frowning.   
"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"  
You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take." 
The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.  
"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."  
He looks like he's in shock. 
"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."  
You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being. 
Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.  
"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"  
"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."  
"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"  
You aren’t sure how to answer him.  
"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.  
It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.  
"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.  
"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.” 
You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.  
He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.  
"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.  
"What about him?"  
"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."  
Your eyes go wide.  
"I—it wasn't serious."  
"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."  
You feel frozen in place by his admission. 
Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.  
His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.  
Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  
"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want." 
You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.  
"Why me? And why now?"  
Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him. 
"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."  
Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.  
"Stop saying stuff like that."  
Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"  
"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.  
"I love you." He repeats.  
You squirm.  
"Stop it,"  
"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you." 
Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.  
"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."  
"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."  
"Hajime." Your voice is shaking. 
His drops down to a whisper.  
“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept  me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”  
You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,” 
"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."  
You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.  
A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?  
"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."  
He laughs wetly.  
"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."  
He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.  
"Can I kiss you?" He asks.  
Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."  
He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"  
You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."  
He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.  
It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops. 
He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.  
There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.   
"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together." 
You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it. 
"Yeah."  
__ 
You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.  
His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.  
You're going to die young if he keeps this up.   
"I love you,"  
You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."  
"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."  
You pause.  
"...Sleep?" 
"Hm?"  
You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.  
"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."  
"No way," He laughs  as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"  
"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"  
"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."  
You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.  
"Don't wanna,"  
Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.  
"Stop staring."  
He doesn't.  
"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"  
"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"  
He smiles in satisfaction.  
"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"  
You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.  
"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."  
He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.  
"Don't say it." You hiss.  
"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."  
You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."  
He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.  
"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."  
You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."  
"Your—" His jaw drops a little.  
You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.  
"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."  
He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.  
"Yes, ma'am."  
__ 
Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.  
You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.  
Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.  
But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.  
He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.  
Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.  
You shiver.  
"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"  
You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"  
He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"  
You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."  
He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.  
"The hell?"  
"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.  
"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"  
Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.  
It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.  
He smiles at you when you pull away.  
"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."  
Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.  
He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.  
"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."  
He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."  
"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"  
“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."  
"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"   
He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."  
"What do you want then?"  
"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."  
You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."  
He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"  
You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.  
You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."  
"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."  
You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.  
He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.  
He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.  
You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing. 
More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.  
"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.  
"You're making me feel good." He hums.  
Your face heats up. "I barely did anything." 
"You just being on my lap is more than enough."  
You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.  
The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.  
You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.  
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.  
"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.  
"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"  
You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"  
He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."  
"I'm just..."  
He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"  
Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."  
He smiles.  
"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."  
You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.  
Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.  
"You're so beautiful to me."  
He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.  
He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise. 
"Don't hold your voice, please?"  
"It's embarrassing,"  
"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."  
You frown but nod ultimately.  
Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.  
This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.  
No one's ever touched you like this, though.  
His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.  
"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.  
The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.  
You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.  
"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."  
He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.  
Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.  
(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)  
Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.  
But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking  gentle inhales of your scent.  
Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.  
"Fuck."  
He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"  
"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.  
He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.  
And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.  
Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.  
"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.  
"Don't be impatient." He tsks.  
"It's enough already," 
He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."  
You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"  
He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"  
There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"  
He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"  
Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.  
The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..  
"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.  
You cover your face with your arm.  
"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."  
"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."  
He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.  
There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.  
Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.   
You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot. 
An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.  
A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.  
Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.  
Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.  
Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.  
By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.  
"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"  
"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."  
He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."  
You pause. Umemiya waits.  
"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."  
"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."  
"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."  
"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is. 
The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.  
"You're really somethin', yknow that?"  
He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.  
"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"  
"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?" 
He smiles. "As you wish,"  
Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.  
You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."  
"Stop looking so much,"  
He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.  
Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.  
You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you. 
You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.  
Something blooms into your chest. You've never— 
"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"  
He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.  
You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.  
It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.  
"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"  
Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.  
You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.  
He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."  
You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."  
He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"  
Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."  
"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"  
You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.  
He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"  
He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."  
"Take 'em off. Please?"  
Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.  
"Your dick is so big,"  
He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."  
"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."  
He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."  
"You gonna fuck me?"  
"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."  
"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."   
"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."  
You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."  
His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"  
You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort 
Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"  
"Why are you—mmgh," 
He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.  
"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”  
Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.  
“Hajime—“ 
He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.  
“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”  
Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.  
“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“  
His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.  
“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ” 
Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“  
“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”  
Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.  
A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.  
You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.  
He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.  
“Too much?”  
Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.  
“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”  
He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.  
“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”  
He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”  
You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.  
“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,” 
“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”  
“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”  
“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”  
You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.  
“Did you want something else? Water?”  
“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.” 
He pulls back to look at you seriously.  
“Do you know what you’re asking?”  
You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”  
“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”  
You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.  
“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”  
He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…” 
“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”  
He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”  
You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.  
You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.  
Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.  
“Gonna put it in now, okay?”  
Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.  
His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”  
“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”  
“Different?”  
“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”  
You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.  
“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”  
You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again  - he finally bottoms out.  
“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”  
You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them  - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.  
“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”  
You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.” 
He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.” 
As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.  
Starts to feel good. Really, really good.  
“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”   
“Yeah?”  
You nod, trying not to seem too eager. 
When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your  the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.  
“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.” 
“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”  
You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.  
Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.  
“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”  
You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.  
Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”  
He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”  
“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”  
He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.  
A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him. 
“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”  
Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.  
Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.  
You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.  
“You gonna cum soon?”  
“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”  
“’s okay to cum in me,”  
Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”  
You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.  
You don’t really hate it, though.  
“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.  
“Love you too,”  
__ 
The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.  
You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.  
Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.  
“No fucking way,”  
You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.  
You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.  
Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by. 
Fuck.  
“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“  
Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.  
You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.  
Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.  
“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”  
“In your dreams.”  
Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”  
He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever. 
“Good morning,”  
“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”  
“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”  
You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.  
“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”  
You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.  
“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”  
You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”  
With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.  
“She left already?”  
“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”   
Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”  
“You already said that.”  
“You didn’t say it back,”  
You frown. “G’morning,”  
He smiles suddenly  before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.  
“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”  
“You’re stupid.”  
“And you love me,”  
You fail trying not to smile.  Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.
“I guess so.”  
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marvelwitchergilmore · 5 months ago
Text
Surprise Marriage
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.
Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.
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The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan. 
Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal. 
But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off. 
Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry. 
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”
Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy. 
“What’s going on?”
“Have you seen Y/n today?”
Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”
Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”
Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused. 
“Charles, what’s going on?”
The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan. 
“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”
The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”
Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”
“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”
“Both? What?”
“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion. 
“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”
“Well, that would be the other question except-”
Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t. 
Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 
Then you remembered. 
It had been laundry day. 
And you wore one of his shirts to bed. 
Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone. 
“What’s going on?”
“Well, Y/n-”
“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it. 
What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?
But no. 
It was anything but. 
Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts. 
“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”
“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”
“What?”
“It’s ours. We’re married.”
You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out. 
“What?”
Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”
“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan. 
“I don’t know.”
“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”
You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory. 
“I need to sit down.”
Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month. 
“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”
Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”
And so you did. 
There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated. 
You were married to Logan. 
Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago. 
You had become Logan’s wife. 
“I think I’m gonna puke.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”
“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you. 
“Do either of you know when this happened?”
You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-
“The library.”
“What?” 
Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”
“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”
“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”
Then the bell rang. 
“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”
You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs. 
“I’ll give you both some time.”
Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke. 
You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you. 
Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands. 
“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”
“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual. 
“I know.”
“We’re married.”
Logan nodded. “I know.”
“What are we going to do?”
“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”
“So we…we get a divorce?”
“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”
“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”
You could only nod. 
Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”
You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head. 
“How can you be so calm about this?”
Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”
That made you laugh a little. 
“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”
You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”
Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”
Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had. 
And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in. 
“Hey.”
You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside. 
“Hey.”
“How are you feeling?”
“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine. 
“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”
You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”
“Have you seen Logan today?”
You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”
Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing. 
They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did. 
You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other. 
“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”
“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”
Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”
“What?”
Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”
You looked down. 
“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”
“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”
You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer. 
“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”
“If there was, something would have happened by now.”
Oh, how Storm wished that was true. 
But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back. 
There was more than just friendship. A lot more. 
“Just think about it.”
And with that she left. And you were left wondering. 
What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened. 
Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma. 
It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom. 
Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids. 
Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk. 
You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing. 
But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door. 
“Scott?”
“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”
Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”
Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”
Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink. 
“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head. 
“Not since this morning.”
“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”
“What do you want, pal?”
Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries. 
“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”
“Excuse me?”
Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”
“Perfect excuse?”
“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”
“And why should it?”
“Because you’re in love with her.”
For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan. 
“Look, bub, I know-”
“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”
“No, I’m-”
“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”
Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”
Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture. 
“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”
“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”
“What’s your point?”
“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”
The conversation lulled for a moment. 
“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”
Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room. 
“Want some help?”
You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”
Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes. 
“How are you…how are you feeling?”
You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”
“Yeah, fine.”
IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually. 
That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed. 
Conversations with you were never, ever boring. 
Even when they were probably meant to be. 
And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded. 
Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends. 
But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too. 
“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you. 
You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”
“After you, wife.”
This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more. 
A divorce lawyer had picked up your case. 
It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month. 
Like nothing had ever happened. 
Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen. 
Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you. 
You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean. 
And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing. 
Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings. 
And then Logan found you in the library one night. 
“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”
Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.
“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”
Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”
“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”
Logan looked around. “You got a list?”
You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”
“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”
Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers. 
“There’s twenty six books on this list.”
“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”
And so he did. 
By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left. 
“Is this the right edition?”
“Let me see.”
Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs. 
“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”
As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you. 
“You alright?”
You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”
You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist. 
“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too. 
The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears. 
A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand. 
And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat. 
The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder. 
But you had never seen Logan so…clearly. 
You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered. 
But something in that moment was changing too. 
Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him. 
You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear. 
And he was doing the same. 
One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you. 
He was committing you to memory, too. 
His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip. 
You fell closer to him. 
Or maybe he pulled you closer. 
Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch. 
What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his. 
It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else. 
Then it snapped. 
Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you. 
Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady. 
And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you. 
Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck. 
However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off. 
“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”
“Is everything okay?”
You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why. 
“You’re right…you’re right.”
Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet. 
“We should go…before someone comes in.”
“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Then don’t.”
You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own. 
But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it. 
You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to. 
“Goodnight, Logan.”
Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room. 
It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night. 
Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake. 
It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget. 
When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning. 
Then he didn’t see you for three days. 
Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you. 
The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward. 
And then another moment hit. 
You didn’t close the door. 
He didn’t know what to say. 
All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library. 
And you were wishing the same thing right back. 
“I should-”
“You should-”
A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him. 
Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all. 
And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you. 
“She’s not there?”
Logan turned immediately. “What?”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”
“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked. 
“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him. 
And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be. 
You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front. 
The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo. 
But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you. 
“Where could she have gone?”
Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened. 
Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed. 
“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“She could be half way across the world by now!”
Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”
A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment. 
“Do you know where she is?”
“I have an idea.”
With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.
“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him. 
“You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”
And Storm was right. 
And she was right to tag along. 
Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day. 
And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier. 
He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.
The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”
“Where is Connie?”
The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”
“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk. 
Then she saw. 
You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street. 
And Logan followed. 
However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin. 
So, he took a turn. 
He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on. 
“You fixed her up well.”
You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can. 
“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”
“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”
You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you. 
“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side. 
“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries. 
“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”
“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”
“Time from what?”
“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.
“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”
“What? Single and married?”
Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him. 
“Married and together.”
Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline. 
“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”
“Logan…”
“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”
You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”
“Then we start here, just you and me.”
“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”
Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”
You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”
“Promise me.”
Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”
Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you. 
Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.
Not when you finally had each other for life. 
1K notes · View notes
ajortga · 9 months ago
Text
can you keep a secret?
pairing: wednesday addams x werewolf fem reader
summary: you miss your girlfriend who's recently transferred to nevermore academy. your persistent whining is able to transfer you to nevermore and cling onto her the whole time there.
word count: 5k+
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based off request!
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W and R are in a relationship, W transfers to Nevermore. W and R may not have anything in common, but they do on some things, like R being an outcast as well (a werewolf ), R insists their parents that they transfer to Nevermore too. After they successfully did, R immediately finds W, the outcast's curious to what'll happen to R (obvi doesn't know they knew each other).. Basically every student in Nevermore sees them together everyday. One, asks W who R is to W, she answers truthfully, "They're My Lover." everything and everyone just goes crazy
-
“Cara mia, we live next to each other,” Wednesday says softly, brushing your hair back as you braid her black silky hair.
You hum, a little sad, finishing to braid her two tiny braids that hung low to her chest.
“But I won’t see you in school, baby." A huff escapes your lips as your girlfriend sighs, giving up on trying to coax your madness.
“Or at all,” you add, “you’ll have a damn dorm with some girl that you’ve never seen before. It’s not fair.”
The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes, “I’ll cut off my heart with the sharpest knife I know if I ever started to love someone more than you,” Wednesday suggests, trying to make you feel better.
She cups your cheeks as you refuse to speak and rubs her thumb gently around the pink tint covering them. A way to always make you feel better. Yet she knows better because you certainly don’t look better.
“We’re both outcasts Weds. My stupid parents just won’t allow me to transfer because they think Nevermore is weird. Yet they went to school there. That's not fair."
“They’re just trying to protect you. I'd feel that way too for our daughter if Nevermore had hurt me. If someone ever hurt you, they’re death will be a long one. Sufferable and miserable. So bad that they’ll beg for forgiveness before they bleed out.”
Usually Wednesday would expect you to smile and giggle, but you’re not. Why does your girlfriend have to leave you?
“Can’t you stay?” You ask, voice tiny.
“As much as I sneak out, Mother has already informed everyone including your parents not to let me stay the night. They are used to my.. Tactics per say.”
Your sharp nails from your growth as a soon to be wolfed out werewolf emerges, clawing the wood you attached to your wall when this kind of stuff happens.
"I can sneak you in and I'll even build you a door in my closet," you suggest.
"No, Y/N."
"What if we install a life-like robot and I'll sneak out with you?"
"No."
You huff angrily, slashing the wood.
Wednesday firmly takes your hand, and your hand almost scratches her, yet it stops as you don’t want to hurt her, “Stop that.”
“No,” you state, tugging your hand away and sinking them into the wood, so hard that a big ass dent forms.
Your girlfriend sighs, rolling her eyes as she sweeps her bangs away from her eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do bambina. Maybe I could.. Sneak you away from this horrid place. But at what cost? Nevermore seems strange. Not strange in a way I’d want to discover in mysteries though.”
She sees the way you sigh, disappointed. Upset.
“You’ll be there for a whole school year, it’s far.”
“I’ll bring my typewriter. Distance won’t change that, swear on my cemetery. I’ll write you letters at night, secretly take the principal's mailbox and send them to you. Or I’ll threaten Thing in my backpack and crawl till he can give it to you.” Wednesday isn’t kidding, her stare is cold, well usually it was cold, but not towards you. “He can suffer in thorns, I’ll stitch him up, just as long as.. You’ll write back?”
You nod, yet you don’t care about the letters, you care about her.
“You’ll send them?”
“Yes.”
“Every night?”
“Yes.”
“What if you begin to stop when you feel like it’s not working anymore?”
“I won’t Y/N.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Oh, but I do.”
"No you don't, you don't know the future."
"But I do know that I won't stop sending my letters. I can feel it."
You stop scratching the wood and you bury yourself on Wednesday, breathing in her scent as you try to comfort yourself. Yet even when the lights are off, your heart is pounding, feeling alone.
-
A tear falls from your cheek as you watch Lurch stuff his trunk, Wednesday talking to her mother and father, while hesitantly hugging Pugsley. 
“You’ll have so much fun.” Morticia says, with a smile, kissing her cheek and staining it slightly with her black lipstick.
“Define fun as boring and a punishment, sure,” Wednesday stiffly responds, yet softens as she looks at you. She takes her mother’s hand off her shoulder and approaches you.
“If you cry, it'll be raining all day. And you don't want it to be all gloomy for you? I don't want my socks wet. A poem, along with two pages written in a small font. One to express my day, and one to express that stupid love so you can sleep peacefully at night with nightmares.” Wednesday says, stopping for a moment, “sweet nightmares,” she adds.
You nod, yet your tear stained cheeks aren’t really helping, she reaches up and wipes it off with her thumb. Then let you hug her, you immediately bury yourself into her and she sighs.
“I’ll be thinking of you, till every grain of sand can be counted.”
You watch her approach the car, then slip in. She has the window scroll down, and you look at her. As the car engine roars, you bite your lip. And slowly watch it wheel away. Slowly jogging till it’s out of sight.
-
It’s been two weeks. And sure enough, Wednesday has kept her promise. She’s sent you letters you’ve kept in your drawer, they’re never repetitive, but always show you love. You like it like that, knowing that it isn’t a chore for her to write letters for you. If anything, they’ve lengthened in size as she's sent more and more.
It makes you miss her a little more. You have to hug your life-sized stuffed animal at night that she sprayed her perfume on. She also left half a bottle on your counter, just in case it runs out. Though it takes longer to sleep, it makes you feel a little better knowing there was something that was like a piece of her beside you.
Thing has visited you, and you know that little guy has a huge memory. You lost the letter you were going to hand Thing, and though you were a little sad, he moved his fingers and you realized you could speak to him for hours and he would tell Wednesday every detail. She had even wrote to you,
~
I owe Thing a thank you, yet he can be provoking at times. He had communicated to me for an hour, thirty minutes, and thirty two seconds about your day. I always wonder what secrets lay in the Addams Family. Yet I’m not quite comprehending why Thing has a big memory space.
Nonetheless, I think about you everyday. My roommate, Enid, has been unpleasant with her interesting taste of fashion and colors. It’s distracting. In a negative way. You’re distracting in a way where I can’t take my eyes off your enticing figure Y/N. Weems had bothered me the whole day, smothered me with questions and made sure I was doing fine. No wonder why mother got along with her so much. Those two are like the same person just one with smothered ink. But, something that sparked my particular interest was that you can dorm with two other people. Thing had told me that there was an accident at your school. If you’d like, which I’d appreciate, could ask your mother about transferring, say it’s dangerous. You aren’t a late wolfer, but convince her possibly that Nevermore can increase your chances. Wish you were here, I hate Mr. Tuesday. That white bunny is always staring at me during my typing time. But I can tolerate him a bit more, knowing you gifted it to me. You love Mr. Tuesday, so I appreciate your gesture. It’s not often I get visions, but they’ve almost made me want to experience them more. I see you in them, baking. Writing to me. It makes me almost happy.
Enid keeps trying to get to know me, she’s a strange soul, but she’s a werewolf, like you. You two are nothing alike, yet I think you two would get along a bit too much. Except you don’t blast random glitter pop music during the night. During my WRITING TIME. Even thinking about it rots my brain. But I miss you cariño. Sleep tight, I’ve left at least 300 things to hide in your house and you’ll never expect where they are. But everyone is special, it’ll make you at least smile a little when I tell you each night. Today’s item is snuck inside your bed, I used Mother’s chainsaw to cut through the wood, it’s a tiny version of Mr. Tuesday. I asked Thing the other day to sneak it in that spot and he sanded the wood back in. It should be a sort of door. But I crocheted it during my free time, there are times where I can’t think during my writing time. That is an understatement, but I only think of you. But I’m hoping you can enjoy it for today.
Love you, sleep cozily,
Weds
-
You smile as you look under your bed, now noticing the small outline from Wednesday’s chainsaw and you open the little compartment to see another crocheted white bunny of Mr. Tuesday. You nuzzle it and place it on your desk. You love him. You even spent a few minutes grabbing white yarn and attaching it to your tote bag.
You think about what Wednesday said, someone had gotten hurt in your school from being stabbed by a senior that was drunk. Obviously he didn’t mean it. But you had seen how anxious your mom got when she found out the news.
It was 11:23PM, and your mom’s room light was illuminated from the hallway. You get out of bed, ruffle your hair, and approach her room. Your only thought is Wednesday.
-
Before you could even ask, you already noticed her holding a black card, the logo of Nevermore Academy apparent. It said in bolded letters, 1965 Jericho’s long lasting Nevermore Academy. One for outcasts.
“Mom?” You said, your voice slowly quiet, and she looked up at you, waving you over.
“Hi honey,” she replies, “I’ve been thinking about the accident at your school. And I know you don’t like that place that much. And as much as I feel like I should keep you there. Your safety is important to me.”
Your excitement grows, you want to have that wide smile off your face.
“So?...” You question, wondering if she was saying what you were thinking she meant.
“And you keep bringing Wednesday up. So me and Morticia talked, and I talked with your father. We’re going to send you to Nevermore, but only if you want to. As long as you write to us every end of the week and call us. We want our little wolf to meet ones like her. It’s not often you find ones like us here.”
You nod.
“Yes!”
You didn't even think it would be that easy.
-
As soon as you get the news you squeal and call Wednesday early in the morning. She responds almost quickly, her voice on the other line, “What brings you to call me this early Y/N?”
“I’m transferring to Nevermore!” You say, you were much more excited but your tired voice betrayed you.
There’s a pause, then a small, “What?”
“I’m coming!”
A laugh and you can almost feel your girlfriend smiling with a toothy grin with her ear pressed to the phone.
“I knew your parents would let you go somehow,” she says, voice more excited, yet anyone else would not notice but you.
You can hear some rustling, “I’m going to ask Weems if you can dorm with me. I can kick Enid out for all I care, yet she isn’t horrible. Just, I’d rather spend it with you if she doesn’t allow a three dorm. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up a three dorm at all.”
“Thing, go back home and ask Father if Lurch can drive Y/N to Nevermore. Actually, include that if he won’t ask, I’ll shave his head off. Also make sure that he sprays two times of her favorite perfume, have her favorite sour candy ready, her headphones, her books, and tell him to pack some melon milk for her too. And her cow stuffie. Make sure he’s playing the playlist she made that’s saved in the car.”
There is a pause, and she makes a small, ‘oh oh’
“Baby,” Wednesday doesn’t call you that much, but when she does you’re over the moon. It usually shows that she’s happy. Really happy, yet her voice is still soft and composed, “I installed a door behind your clothes in your closet, guess we’ll unwrap the 300 presents when we go home. But I got another Mr. Tuesday there, he has some sort of costume on.” 
She pauses, you hear a random girl jumping up and down in the background, squealing about something as your girlfriend groans and presses her ear back into her phone, sending Enid an annoyed glare, “Pack your stuff, I’ll be waiting. I might as well cut my ears off if Enid won’t stop blabbing her mouth off.” You can tell that Wednesday turns her head to face her new roommate, she says louder, since Enid couldn’t hear her talking to you, “Better yet, slice her mouth off.” Then Enid’s squeals die down.
You grin through the phone as you grab out another version of Mr. Tuesday with a mushroom hat, you hug him tight.
The doorbell rings and you hear your mom open it, putting Wednesday on speaker phone.
“I’m almost done packing.”
“Y/N, honey. Mrs. Addams requests to see you,” your mother’s voice echoes through the hallway and you glance at the door.
You don’t know how Wednesday can hear it but she does, “I’m taking into conclusion that she received my message. Oh yes, she replied with those stupid icons. Yet it is one of a thorny rose and a gravestone.”
“Coming!” You stuff your bags, “Be right back.”
-
You almost choke as Morticia brings you into her embrace, hugging her back with an easing gentleness.
“Hello little one,” her soft voice says, the one you find comfort in as much as you do Wednesday’s. She gently rubs your hair, “I informed Lurch for your arrival, he’s outside whenever you’ll be ready dear. I’m so glad you decided to willingly join Nevermore. It has been a place that holds many memories. It’s where I met Gomez and fell in love. Maybe Wednesday and you can find the secrets in it. Go on journeys with her. Dig some graves, set them on fire."
It weird you out, but you smile, nodding, “To spend it with Wednesday is all I need.”
“You’re a special soul, a pure heart I can handle. Now go,” she waves you away, “Don’t keep him waiting for long.”
You give her one last grin and look over your shoulder before turning the corner.
-
After hanging up on Wednesday when you finish packing all your bags, your mother and father hug you goodbye and give you your favorite cranberry juice. Sweet.
It’s cozy in the Addams car, comfortingly with no talk, just the music Wednesday requested (forced) Lurch to play that lingers in your playlist. You feel like a butler with all the requests Wednesday smothered him with.
An hour passes and you can see the way the clouds slightly come into view, then you see the environment change as a sign that reads, “Welcome to Jericho! A Town of History”
Then, you finally see the academy in view, and Lurch arrives right in front, before taking your bags and guiding you to Principal Weems.
“It is my honor to have you here at Nevermore. This school has history, and where you’ll certainly grow,” her smile is wide, a little too welcoming it gets a little scary.
You just give small mumbles and nods, “Well, Morticia called me this morning and I quickly looked through your demographics. It also isn’t a coincidence that you have straight A’s. A 4.3 GPA. Many extracurriculars, and of course, you’re a werewolf. I see.”
“It is no surprise also that you had gone to the same school as another student who just enrolled, Morticia’s daughter, Wednesday. She sure is.. Different. But nonetheless talented. She had asked me yesterday afternoon if it was possible to have a dorm of three, and I’m assuming that you have been planning to dorm with her for the rest of the semester?”
She reads your mind, you immediately nod your head up and down, “Yes.”
“Well, most of the 3 dorms have been occupied, but her and Enid seem to have a slow relationship. I’ll have her in my office today, but by the end of the night or tomorrow morning I’ll give you my answer.” Weems scribbles on a note, writes some address and a name, “You’ll be rooming with Yoko, sound okay?”
You nod.
“Alright, I’ll call Enid up, for your guide.”
“..Guide?”
She nods, “Of course, we have many classes you can do, and people you can meet. She knows this place well, and I know that she’ll open up your shell.”
-
As Wednesday watches Enid leave, a soft grin forms on her face as she unties Thing from the random crocheted pink jacket Enid made for him.
Her eyes scan Enid as the door closes, then she turns to him, “I’m expecting Y/N is here. I’ve crocheted a questionable amount of Mr. Tuesdays.” She informs, “I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Wednesday sighs, as she pulls out the drawer next to her to reveal at least 40 assorted sizes of the same bunny. There were some in outfits, wigs. Wednesday almost finds it as therapeutic as her writing time. She crochets them whenever Enid leaves their dorm.
Thing smacks his head, and the braided girl glares at him, “Don’t judge me, I can cut off your fingers any time,” she threatens, seeing the way Thing surrendered with two fingers up in the air.
Then he moves around his fingers and does random hand movements.
“You think I’d follow Enid and try to make conversation with Y/N so much that Enid will get suspicious? You’d really think I’d do that?” 
Thing agrees.
“Then, you know me too well, let’s go.”
-
“Enid, glad you’re- Wednesday? It seems like you’ve tagged along,” Weems adds as she almost seems surprised, looking at her. If anything, the look in her eye is cautious.
“Yes,” Wednesday responds, trying to avoid the way your eyes almost smile as you look at her, but if anyone else were to look at you, they wouldn’t notice. “I’ve decided to accompany Enid, this is much more exciting than some other events at Nevermore,” she adds again, not entirely rude.
You sit in the middle while Wednesday takes the only left seat available, scooches her chair closer. Her hand rubs over yours after meeting under the covers of Weem’s desk. She takes note of how a small smile creeps on your face when Weem talks because of that.
“This is actually so awesome,” the blonde cheers next to you, making you turn your head and turn it, confused.
“We’re both werewolves silly! We should dorm 3 together! Wait, are there even any 3 dorms left?” When the principal shakes her head no, Enid sighs, “Then Wednesday can pair with Yoko. Actually, she barely even talks to Yoko, let alone handle her better than she’ll be able to handle me.”
You blink, glance at Wednesday for a moment and she shakes her head frantically.
“What if I dorm with her?”
The question leaves everyone silent, well everyone is surprised but Wednesday.
“You’d want to room with Wednesday while Enid rooms with Yoko?”
There's a lingering silence as you look around, “Why not? I'd like to get to know her better,” you lie. The most you want to do is get to talk to your girlfriend again.
"Oh. You don't want to, you know, get to know Wednesday before actually having to dorm with her?"
"Nope."
"Well, then that’s settled for your dorm. I’ll have to file Enid for a dorm change. But I’d like to ask if that is okay for both Wednesday and Enid.”
“Yes,” your girlfriend immediately responds, then coughs a little to cover up her excitement that’s masked behind her calm demeanor. “I can take a break from someone that is the complete opposite of me.
“I’d be happy to dorm with Yoko, at least I can have my music playing at night and my glitter-”
“My ears are bleeding Enid, don’t mention that word you just said.”
“Glitter?” Enid questions.
“No.”
You giggle from your girlfriend’s demeanor, squeezing her hand under the desk.
-
“This is Ophiela Hall! You don’t need to find your people here, you can make plenty of friends in other groups, but you have a group of werewolves! And what makes it even better is that we haven’t wolfed out!” Enid jumps up and down and you watch her legs bounce up and down, up and down. She’s like a whole party.
People give you two small looks, both you and Wednesday can tell they’re almost surprised she tagged along with someone whos new. It makes you smile a little.
Your girlfriend notices them whispering about you. Not anything bad, you seem like the sweetest person out of them all, but they’re whispering about the two of you. Even Bianca gives you a cautious look, but you’re too distracted to know what their saying as Enid keeps talking to you and dragging you along. Wednesday follows like a puppy.
“Enid, hey.” A boy speaks up, and you turn around at the new voice, he’s wearing blue and a beanie. The same tie everyone is wearing.
“Oh hi Ajax, this is Y/N. She’s new and I’m showing her around.”
A glare is thrown at Ajax as your girlfriend exhales. You give a small wave, “Hi.”
“You a werewolf too?”
You nod, seeing the way his hat kind of turns sideways, poking some peeking out snakes back into it. That’s scary.
The bell rings and you look around, confused, Enid grabs the paper you stuck in your bag.
“Oh, hey! Your next class is with Wednesday and I, it’s just plant anatomy with Thornhill. Come on.”
-
Somehow Wednesday gets Xaiver to move away from her, so now you’re sitting next to her.
“What the hell is this class?”
“Thornhill just talks about plants. The only entertaining aspect of this is that I like seeing Bianca fail to beat me. Though that goes in almost everything.”
The auburn hair girl turns around, with a wide smile and fairly big glasses for the size of her head.
“It’s a pleasure to have a new student, I’m glad to have you in our third period class Y/N.”
You embarrassingly smile, everyone looking at you, some with smiles and some with just small glances. 
“Could you give us the formula on how to turn this plant into a…” Thornhill goes on and you look at the plant, it seems it’s a Ghost Orchid.
You answer almost immediately, and Wednesday nudges you with her foot to almost say a ‘yay.’
Bianca stares at you as Thronhill clasps her hands together, “Exactly, you know your plants well. I’m sure you’ll excel here. Today we’ll have a change of assignments. It’ll be a challenge for duos against other duos and whoever answers first, and correctly for that fact, will earn a point till all the questions run out. Sound easy enough? Alright, let me get my cards ready.”
A knowing smirk grows in between you two, “We’ll win in no time,” Wednesday states, you look at the duos. It’s you and her, Enid and Yoko, Bianca and Divina, and other people you have no clue about, including Xaiver.
The game starts and before Thornhill can even get to the end of the question, you and Wednesday slap the bell, giving out the answer.
“Quick hands,” Xavier mumbles.
“That’s correct! Great job girls.”
The game goes on, and you’re tied with Bianca’s team. The silence can be cut with a knife as the two duos anticipately wait for the question. As Thornhill begins to read out the question, it takes you two a while to know the answer. Bianca and Divina seem stuck.
It’s several moments before the learning in your past catches up to you, slamming the bell and saying out the answer.
“Correct once again! You two win, great job! You can grab a succulent or stick to two pieces of candy that’s probably expired at the end of class.”
You and Wednesday high-five and to say the least, everyone is surprised because the braided-hair girl never let’s anyone touch her.
-
Weeks have past, and you’ve never been happier. Giving ideas for Wednesday’s stories that even she never thought about, helping her crochet more Mr. Tuesdays, so much that she had thing steal a laundry basket from Weem’s office, and even braid her hair and put black ribbons. She’s grateful to have you at Nevermore, her stories have been expanding because of you.
Your always stuck to her side, fencing playfully with her, even willing to go out in the woods with her. But she hasn’t went out since your arrival, knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave her side, and she certainly doesn’t want you getting hurt.
Even you and her worked together designing a matching cat on your black and white pajamas.
It’s fun when you two get to talk about life when you two are in your dorms, even better when you two are on the balcony and watching the stars. Wednesday plays the cello while you sing. She loves that she has someone that she puts her closed-off personality aside for.
“I love it, you look so pretty with bows baby,” you say, tying the ribbon.
“You look pretty with bows or without cara mia.” 
“Shut ‘p,” you say, smacking her arm lightly as she wraps her arms around you and rubs your hair.
It’s not long till Weems announce that it’s time for lunch.
Wednesday gets up, signalling you to come with her, but when you don’t, she comes back to sit next to you.
“I’m just looking for my necklace, you can go ahead, it won’t take long, promise.”
She sighs, and nods for a moment, then points at Thing, “Help her.”
Thing waves his hands as she blows a soft air kiss and closes the door.
-
It’s sprinkling a little bit when Wednesday is outside.
“How does Wednesday act so non-hazardous with Y/N? It’s honestly impressive.”
“That’s not impressive, how the hell does she not smack her or give her glares? Do you not see the way her eyes actually look normal when she looks at her? Not even normal, they’re gentle! Plus she was the first to go run and get a bandaid when Y/N accidentally got a paper cut.”
It’s like they summoned the girl, who’s holding a plate of her lunch.
Enid smiles and Wednesday sits down, looking at everyone.
“Are you seriously speaking about me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We want to know why the hell you are actually sweet with Y/N.”
“You could’ve used any word besides sweet.”
“Baby-like?”
“Even worse.”
“Don’t dodge the question,” Bianca adds, somehow now being in this conversation, “You killed the biggest spider that was crawling to her, for her.”
“She doesn’t like spiders. Who wouldn’t use not being afraid of spiders to protect someone who is?”
Bianca blinks, then wrinkles her nose, “If it was me you’d certainly let it bite me.”
“Well that’s different.”
Everyone at the table groans, “Exactly!”
“What did I tell you?”
“The only person you’d not let it bite is Y/N, we just want to know why.”
“I’m protecting her because she’s my girlfriend.”
Everyone turns their head to her, “What?”
Enid slams her fists to the table, “I fucking knew it. I knew it! Ajax, you owe me five dollars. I CALLED IT.”
“The Wednesday Addams actually has a girlfriend?”
“Why didn’t we catch on?”
“They’re kinda cute together- don’t even speak or she’ll actually cut your head off if you say cute.”
Everyone is arguing with each other, going crazy. But by the time they cool down and look at where Wednesday was sitting, her seat is empty.
Then everyone looks around and sees her draping her black jacket over your tiny figure, she pulls you closer to her chest as you hold onto her. (Let’s say she’s atleast 4 inches taller than 5’1 in this.) You tug her big jacket over your shoulders as you hug her. She holds onto you and guides you to the table, kissing your forehead and brushing your damp hair.
Even when she comes back, she bends down and takes the butterfly that’s resting on your hair and places it on your hand. “I heard somewhere that if a butterfly lands on you, it means that they see you as a beautiful flower.” 
“I never heard that before.”
“I know, I made that up.”
Everyone starts screaming again, making your girlfriend and your heads snap at them.
“Look at them!”
“Aw! So cute!”
“I want to say this is disgusting but they’ll be my roman empire soon enough.”
You turn back to her, seeing her eyes soften, almost happily, "You told them?”
“I didn’t know why they didn’t conclude to that in the beginning.”
Bianca groans, rolling her eyes as everyone is screaming, then Xavier chimes in. "Back to that spider scenario. I definitely think Wednesday would kill it for me."
You glare at him, clinging onto your girlfriend a little more like a koala. She rubs your back as you tighten your arms around her.
"Your sense of self-love is filled with stupidity. I'd kill the spiders that are harmless to you and leave the ones that are most venomous and ugly looking for people like you, have some respect."
Xavier goes quiet, making a defeated grunt.
Everyone does their little, 'awws' again. You turn to her, now that everyone knows about your status.
“At least we can kiss in the hallways?”
“Maybe save that for the dorms.”
“Can we kiss right now?”
Wednesday’s eyebrows lift up, and she sighs, turning you away from the group and giving you a light kiss, as your lips press together, she nudges a small Mr. Tuesday now with inverted colors, a black bunny. They're both holding hearts and have a star over their head.
"Now Mr. Tuesday has a Mr. Wednesday," she says softly, tucking her black jacket tighter around you as you continue hugging her.
"And Miss. Y/L/N has a Miss. Addams."
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lovegalor333 · 2 months ago
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˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
adjustments (paige x reader)
summary: you and paige just started dating but you’re not used to signs of affection
content warnings: none
You grew up in less than ideal circumstances. Moving from foster family to foster family, constantly changing schools, having to pack up and start life all over again in different states and cities. You lacked everything that your peers had. No best friends, no family, no stability. Nothing in your life was consistent, you used to try and fight it but as you got older you started to think maybe that’s how you would be forever, alone in this big world with no one to lean on when you needed them.
Going to college changed that though, you knew you’d be in one place for years, seeing the same people everyday, building routines and friendships and relationships. It scared you. It scared because it was new. It felt like you were learning to live again, learning to trust. You were experiencing things at eighteen for the first time that most people experienced when they were eight.
When you met Paige, you dreamed of her being your best friend. She showed you love and compassion and care. She asked you questions you’d never been asked before. She made time in her busy schedule to see you. She introduced you to her friends and they quickly became yours too. She was your best friend and then she wasn’t. She was confessing her feelings for you and you were confused. You didn’t understand. Paige was acting like what you imagined a best friend would but saying she wanted more.
You were forced to be honest with Paige because you liked her and didn’t want to lose her. She was understanding and said she was happy to take things slow, at a pace that was comfortable for you. But it didn’t take you long to realise you shared the same feelings for her and you’ll never forget the smile on her face when she asked you to be her girlfriend and you said yes.
You’ll also never forget the way she frowned and chewed on her bottom lip when she pulled you into a hug, pressing her lips to your forehead and you jumped away.
“I’m sorry. No one- no ones ever done that to me before.” You had admitted.
Paige being Paige understood and reassured you that it didn’t make her feel any differently towards you. You guys could take things as slow as you wanted.
You had been dating for almost a month now and your heart still raced at the slightest of touches, your skin tingled every time she was close to you and you’d pulled away from every kiss after just a few seconds, the feeling being too much, too quickly.
Never in your life have you craved a hug, never have you wanted someone so close you almost mesh into one but you’d had a bad day and all you could think about was being in Paiges arms.
“Oh hi baby.” Paige smiles as she opens her apartment door to you.
You had come round unannounced, straight from your last class of the day.
“Hi.” You whisper, voice almost breaking as you do.
“What’s up?” Paige asks, brows furrowed as you walk inside.
“Bad day. Could I- could I have a hug?” You ask and your hands shake as you do, this was a foreign feeling for you but it would be for Paige too. She wasn’t used to you asking for hugs or even wanting to be touched.
“Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. C’mere.” She coos, arms opening immediately for you to walk into.
Paige encapsulates you in a tight hug, her arms firm and strong around your body, her chin rested on your head. It takes you a moment to hug her back but eventually your arms snake around her waist and you squeeze her, never wanting to let go.
“Is this OK?” Paige checks in.
“More than.” You reply, voice muffled from the way your face is buried in her chest.
“Let’s go to my room.” Paige says letting you go and you already want to feel her again so you slip your hand into hers as she leads you through her apartment.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but cuddles always help me after a bad day.” She says sitting on the edge of her bed, hand still linked in yours.
“I’ve never cuddled with anyone before.”
“Will you let me show you what it’s like?” She asks tenderly.
You nod and Paige shuffles back on her bed so she’s laying down, propped up slightly by a few pillows. She taps the space next to her and you slip your shoes off before climbing onto the bed.
“Here, shuffle down. Put your head on my chest.”
You do as she says and it takes you a second to find a comfortable position, nestled into Paige but once you do it feels like you’re two pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly. One of her hands is running through your hair and the other trails up and down your arm and you feel as though you’re floating, the events of the day washing away with each stroke.
“That feels nice.” You murmur as you move your arm to rest over Paiges stomach.
“It does, doesn’t it?” She agrees.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me baby. You don’t need to earn my affection. Not now, not ever.” Your heart pangs at her words and suddenly you want to touch her. Every part of her. You want her skin under your fingertips, her lips on yours and you want it now.
You look up at Paige who’s already looking down at you and you bring your hand up to her face, gently stroking her jaw and her eyes flutter shut. Your finger traces up and over her brow bone, down her nose and across her lips, “You’re so beautiful.” You breathe out, heart racing.
Paige is quick to prop herself up and her hand finds your hip and positions you so you’re fully laying down. You gasp at the sudden movement, “Is this O-” Paige begins.
“How about I let you know when it’s not OK? Just keep going.”
Paige is straddling you now, knees at either side of your waist. Her hands start on your face, pushing your hair back, they trail down your neck and your breathing increases as they palm over your chest and down your stomach, “I’ve dreamed of this.” She rasps, her tongue running along her bottom lip as she looks down at you, eyes hooded and needy.
“Kiss me…please.” You practically beg, your hands now planted on Paiges thighs.
She leans down and kisses the tip of your nose and your eyes close as her lips find yours in a gentle, passionate kiss. Her lips are soft and plump against yours and you can’t hold back the throaty moan as her tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste her and it’s euphoric. She detaches her mouth from yours only to press kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Fuck…her lips on your neck feel so good. You hold her head in place as she sucks and nips at the sensitive skin before poking out her tongue to soothe the spot.
She moves down to kiss your collarbone, her hands are under your shirt and yours are in her hair, “You’re so perfect.” She groans, eyes flicking up to look at you and you let her head go, hands frantically pulling your shirt up and over your head tossing it onto the floor.
“Shit.” Paige hisses as her eyes trail down your exposed torso. She leans down, peppering kiss up your stomach and your head flies back at the feeling. “Don’t stop.” You plead and she doesn’t until you feel as though every inch of your skin has been touched by her lips.
Your hands are having a field day exploring your girlfriends body, you squeeze her flexed biceps as she hovers over you and you tug at the neckline of her shirt wanting it off. She removes it in one swift movement so you’re both left if your bras. Your fingers trace over her toned abs and she flops down next to you, taking your hand and guiding it over her stomach, “I love feeling your hands on me baby.” She tells you softly.
“I love having my hands on you. I can’t believe it took me this long.” You say pressing a kiss to Paiges shoulder.
“I would’ve waited longer. As long as you needed.”
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
a/n: bro 😔 starting to feel touch starved like reader. ive been single so long
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the-thing-withfeathers · 4 months ago
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a/n: this is part 2 to know your worth. i’m sorry this took a bit of time but i just wanted to get some requests done before fully getting into this buttt i hope y’all like it.
read part 1!
this one is for @dandelions4us specifically 🫵🏼🫵🏼
pairing: billie eilish x reader
warning: bold-italics are flashbacks. ex-toxic relationship, mention of therapy, toxic coping mechanisms, trauma.
summary: billie tumbles while you thrive. can you manage to find each other again through this all?
•*¨*•.¸¸♪
tick, tock. tick, tock. tick, tock.
the dreadful noise of the second hand going on a full rotation was filling billie’s ears. she was overwhelmed and she didn’t want to be here.
“you mentioned last time that you had a partner…” the woman sat on a leather chair started. she was older and was graying, she wore glasses that were too small for her face. “a partner that you had let down.”
“yeah… i really fucked up there.” billie chuckled dryly. “i was horrible during the end of that relationship. it was amazing at first but after touring, i… i became horrible.”
“why do you think you became horrible?” the woman asked.
billie didn’t want to start therapy but her brother had convinced her to do it. she hated talking things out with a total stranger. but she knew she had to take a step towards getting better one way or another.
“i… i don’t know.” billie sighed in defeat.
“do you think it had something to do with your job?” the woman asked again. this was getting ridiculous. billie felt like the woman knew all the answers but was just trying to get billie to say them, she felt like she was back in school.
“maybe?” billie asked herself. “i think when i got back from touring, i realised how serious things were getting— not just with my relationship but with everything around me. i think i just wanted to be less serious? but i didn’t go about it very well. i royally fucked up. i should have been honest— i think things would have gone so much better.”
“it seems like you have a pretty good idea about what you need to work on.” the woman pointed out, impressed. “it was a lot better than our past sessions where you were lost. it seems like you’re starting to get a better grip on yourself.” she nodded in approval.
“i dunno, i think the break i took from working has been really good to me.” billie smiled a bit, she had decided to stop making music for the time being. it wasn’t forever but it was just to give her time to recover.
“do you want to get back together?” the therapist asked, tilting her head.
“yes. more than anything.” billie nodded. “i miss the love that i used to come home to everyday.”
“you could always call.” the therapist suggested.
“i don’t think i’d get an answer.” she huffed.
“you never know if you don’t try.”
•*¨*•.¸¸♪
that’s how billie ended up at a cafe with her leg shaking under the table, waiting for you.
she hasn’t seen you in months. she heard about you from her friends, she tried not to ask but sometimes it would slip out. your friends reluctantly answered out of pity.
you walked into the cafe. her jaw nearly dropped at the sight of you. a smile tugged at her lips. you had cut your hair and your fashion sense had changed, you cleaned up well.
your eyes scanned the room for billie, a small smile forming when you saw her. she looked almost the same, except she dyed her hair.
you were hesitant to come today, but you had done enough self-growth that you were confident enough to face her again.
you made a beeline for her table, sitting down across from her.
billie thought she knew what to say but she was mesmerised by you. you looked good and healthy, and even more beautiful than she anticipated. she wasn’t prepared to have her breath taken away by you.
“hey.” you said, settling down and flashing a smile at her.
“hi.” she responded, clearing her throat.
“um… hey.” you chuckled, raising your eyebrows. “it’s good to see you.”
“yeah, you look good.” she said as the waiter brought her order over. you ordered something for yourself as well while she was there.
the way your eyes twinkled when talking to someone else, that was never there before. you were always more introverted but suddenly it was like you had all the confidence in the world.
she fell in love with you all over again.
you turned back to look at her after ordering, crossing your legs one over the other. you smiled at the look on her face.
“you look surprised.” you pointed out.
“i mean… a little? you’ve changed… in a good way.” she said, sipping at her coffee. “you seem… um… more—“
“out there?” you completed her thought. “well, yes. i kind of put myself to the test. i finally used my savings to travel over the past few months. i kind of had to fend for myself— that involved putting myself out there.” you explained what you had been up to. “all those work hours finally did me good.”
“that’s… that’s really nice.” she said, staring at her coffee on the table. “where did you go?”
“german, greece, rome—“
“rome? you’ve always wanted to go.”
“mmhm. and i finally did. and i finished up my trip in london. i saw some of our friends that we made when i visited you on tour.” you said, scooting over to make room for the waitress putting your order down.
“that’s good, i know they would have been glad to see you.”
you let silence fall over the table for a second as you took a bite of the biscuit at the side of your plate.
“why’d you call?” you asked, cutting to the chase. you thought that there was no point in the small talk when there was clearly something looming over billie.
“oh!” she didn’t expect you to ask so quickly.
“sorry, it just seems like there’s something you’re wanting to say.”
“yeah… i’m uh, i’m in therapy.” she said, leaning back in her seat. “and i just… we’ve been working on how i can explain myself to you. i feel like you deserve that.”
“i would be lying if i said i wasn’t curious, billie. about our relationship ending…” you said, sighing. “feels like i never got closure.”
“that’s fair! and i guess that’s what i wanted to give you.” she said. “i don’t know why i did what i did exactly, because i could have handled it so much better.”
you nodded in anticipation.
“i felt old.” billie sighed out.
you almost let out a laugh but instead let out a stifled chuckle.
“old?”
“old… yeah, it sounds so silly.”
“billie, you’re not even 25.” you scoffed a little bit in disbelief.
“i know! which is why it’s silly.” she said, a little bit defeated. “it was all too much for me when tour ended. i realised how much i had missed with everyone back home. everyone was going to parties and i was stuck working in the studio all the time. i think our relationship took the brunt of it, it was all getting so serious so i took it out on you.”
you furrowed your eyebrows. “serious?”
“yeah… i used to think our relationship getting more serious and committed meant i had to settle down and grow up. i wasn’t ready for that. but i realised i was wrong. our relationship was my safe place to land, coming home to you was the best part of my day.”
“i didn’t realise you felt that way. i wish you told me.” you huffed a little, crossing your arms. “i would have helped you… whatever it took.”
“i know, and that’s why i regret it so much.”
“i kept replaying that fight in my head when it was all so fresh… i just felt like i was fighting with a stranger.” you felt your heart ache upon reliving those memories. “i had some hope that maybe you’d come to your senses that day, that maybe me saying something would be enough for you.”
“i’m sorry that i didn’t. i was so stupid—“
“the worst part is that i never fell out of love with you for a second.” you confessed.
“what?” she asked, making sure she heard you right.
“i tried. i tried to hate you… believe me, i did. but i couldn’t.” you shook your head, finishing your coffee off.
“could we ever try again?” billie popped the question. she didn’t know what answer to expect from you. sure, you still loved her, but could you put yourself in that position again?
“i don’t know.” you said, truthfully. “it’s taking everything in me not to say yes, but i don’t know if i can do that to myself again. i think i’ve come too far.”
“then let me catch up to you.”
there she was. your billie.
you couldn’t hold back a laugh when you heard her say that.
“oh, billie. it’s good to have you back. it’s for the better.” you sighed through the smile that was plastered on your face. “well, how about this then?”
you took her phone that was sitting down on the table. she had reached out through a mutual friend but you didn’t have any other contact information.
“i’ll give you my number.”
thump. thump. thump
billie could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.
“i’ll give you my number.” you said. billie had just met you that night but she was captivated by you.
you had gotten a job working tech at her release party. she saw you backstage and couldn’t take her eyes off you for a second. the way you tried to make sure that everything was perfect for her.
you were a face in the background and yet you were at the forefront of her mind the entire night.
“and you can call me and tell me where to be.”
“and you can call me and tell me where to be.” you giggled, teasing her a little bit. you found it amusing that one of the biggest figures in the world was chasing after you after the show.
she was panting a little bit, she definitely ran after you. her hands were on her knees for just a second while she introduced herself, trying to catch her breath.
you were on your way to your car, your bag already on your shoulder. she couldn’t let you leave without shooting her shot.
you handed her phone back to her.
you handed her phone back to her. she took it back in her hand and immediately pressed dial, you were still in front of her.
she pressed dial.
you rolled your eyes and picked up the phone, holding it up to your ear.
“tomorrow. dinner… at my place?” she said with a cheeky smile on her face.
“tomorrow. dinner… at my place?”
“sure. i’ll be there.”
“sure. i’ll be there.”
•*¨*•.¸¸♪
a/n: heyyy y’all i hope the switching between flashbacks & current time wasn’t too confusing. but i hope u enjoyed part 2 <33 much love mwah mwah
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myladybelle · 7 months ago
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𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter nine
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.0k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, swearing, making out, mentions of sex, use of y/n 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: buckle up kids, it’s going to be an angsty ride!! also this is basically just dialogue so it’s a little different from the other chapters so far 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭
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𝟑 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 – 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟕, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕
In many ways, it felt like your whole life changed since you stopped being friends with Tashi. Over the last three months, you realised a significant part of your identity was missing. You hadn’t noticed it before you stopped being friends with Tashi, but she made up so much of your everyday life that it was impossible not to feel her absence.
Every memory of her lingered in your mind like echoes in an empty room. Tashi existed in the past tense. She was no longer a part of your life. Letting go was hard, and nothing could fill the void left behind. It was a painful adjustment because your routines and comforts were embossed with her imprint – tennis, school, friendships, your entire life. Every new routine you established was an aching reminder of her desertion. 
No matter how much Art supported you, it felt like you had to learn to navigate the world alone. You knew he was doing his best and loved him so much for constantly putting up with you, but Art-shaped love couldn’t fill the Tashi-shaped hole in your heart. It was irreplaceable, and since nothing could fill the void, it remained empty.
Staying in Art’s childhood bedroom over winter break had been fun for about a day until the both of you realised his room was a shrine to his friendship with Patrick, just as yours was a testament to your friendship with Tashi. Trophies, medals, pictures, and mementoes of their life together littered every corner of his room. This worsened Art’s insecurity that Patrick’s presence shadowed his relationship with you.
One day, when you came upstairs from crocheting with Art’s mom, you were surprised by the sudden emptiness of his walls and shelves. Any evidence of Patrick was scrubbed from his room and his life. 
The sudden end to Art and Patrick’s friendship – which you secretly called Patrickgate but would never say aloud to your boyfriend – was a lingering mystery you had yet to figure out. You weren’t sure if the end of their friendship was just an extension of Tashi’s breakup with Patrick or if something else happened. His visit to Stanford had been so much fun up until the accident, and you knew Art had looked forward to it for weeks, so you had no idea what happened to them.
“I think my parents like you more than me,” Art declared one evening, falling onto the sofa beside you. You were crocheting a blanket out of granny squares with his mom and bonding with his dad about your shared music taste. Everyone agreed that Art had terrible taste in music, so he rolled his eyes and watched his favourite people fondly. 
“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” his mother said kindly, counting her stitches. “We definitely like her more than you.” You laughed when Art whined, leaning on your shoulder and complaining. 
Truthfully, he was happy that you and his parents got along so well. A warm, glowing sensation spread through Art’s chest anytime he saw you interact with them. He smiled as his dad laughed heartily at one of your jokes and noticed a rare sparkle in his mother’s eyes as you exchanged stories about your childhood with her.
Art felt the tight knot of anxiety that had grown over the last quarter slowly begin to unravel. 
As you lay on his bed reading a novel his mom recommended, Art couldn’t help but wish your relationship was always like this. Sunlight streamed through his window, cast a gentle glow over his bedroom, and made you appear almost angelic. Curled up on his bed with your legs tucked beneath you, the corners of your lips curved into a content smile as you turned a page, eyes scanning the words.
Art stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and watched you silently. Your relaxed posture contrasted with the tension that usually lined your frame. The strain of the last three months seemed to fade away, and the emotional turbulence you had both weathered was absent. 
Art let out a quiet sigh. This tranquillity, this slice of peace, reminded him why he was trying so hard to make your relationship work.
“I think I need to steal you away from my parents for a night,” he decided, making you look up from your book. 
“Really?”
Humming, Art pushed off the doorway and approached the bed, saying, “I want you all to myself. Competing with my parents for my girlfriend’s time isn’t exactly the low point of my life but it does defeat the purpose of staying together for winter break.”
Grinning, you dropped your book onto the bed and fell into his arms. “I’d love to do something tonight,” you promised. 
Sitting across from each other in the dimly lit restaurant, you and Art found yourselves surrounded by a heavy silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it no longer held the ease of your earlier days together. Last year, when your relationship was fresh, you could sit in companionable silence for hours, feeling entirely at ease. Art’s presence used to be comforting as he quietly observed you. Now, you stared down at your plate, your mind swirling with doubt and uncertainty.
Your relationship with Art wasn’t working out how you hoped, and you were sure he felt the same. But he never voiced his concerns, thoughts, or feelings. Talking to Art was like trying to scale an impenetrable fortress, every word bouncing back without revealing a hint of what lay inside.
When you returned to Art’s house, you showered and got ready to sleep, climbing into his bed and waiting for him.
Cross-legged on top of his blankets, you stared at the now empty walls of his childhood bedroom. A hollow ache sat deep within your chest. Every poster, every photo, and every memory of his friendship with Patrick had been stripped away, leaving nothing but bare, cold surfaces. The once vibrant room now mirrored the emptiness you had noticed in your boyfriend in recent months.
You knew how much his bond with Patrick had filled his life, just as your friendship with Tashi filled yours, and without them, everything seemed unbearably vacant and bleak. Both of you were so consumed by your broken friendship with Tashi that neither of you gave him the space to process his loss of Patrick.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when Art entered his room, hair still wet from his shower. He paused when he saw the melancholic look on your face.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” you said honestly. You never hid parts of yourself from Art. The problem was that he never did the same with you. “Things haven’t been okay for a while now. With either of us.”
Despite the shock coursing through him at you pointing out your unspoken issues, Art tried to keep his expression neutral. His features betrayed only the slightest flicker of surprise. “School’s been busy and our schedules have been crazy, but we’re okay,” he tried to reassure you, closing his door behind him. His parents wouldn’t be coming home until later in the evening but Art wanted the assurance of privacy. “It’ll get better.”
Sitting beside you on the bed with his feet planted on the floor, Art met your eyes and smiled at you. In the past, all it took was the curve of his lips to give you butterflies. Just one glance would make your heart flutter uncontrollably. Now, you could see the sadness in his eyes, the weight of unspoken worries pulling him down. The butterflies weren’t gone, but their wings felt heavier now. You still loved him, but you didn’t want your relationship to become one of unfulfilled potential, lost to the demands of your separate lives and identical scars. 
You couldn’t help but return his smile. “The thing is, I don’t know how things can get better if we don’t talk about them,” you confessed, trying not to upset him. “You know I tell you everything, right?” 
Almost imperceptibly, Art’s eyes narrowed, already taking a defensive stance. “Of course I do,” he said.
“Do you feel like you can share things with me?” you wondered, trying to keep your voice light. You had observed Art putting your care and emotions above everything in his life, and you wanted him to know it was unnecessary. “Because I’m here for you. I feel like you hold everything in and I don’t want you to feel alone.” 
Art crossed his arms as he thought about it. He wore a contemplative look, lips pursed and gaze lingering thoughtfully on the wall behind you. “I don’t feel alone.” Pausing, you gave Art a chance to divulge more about his feelings, but he only looked at you, waiting for you to speak.
You tried not to let your disappointment or frustration show. After all, if Art felt that he needed to tread carefully around you, then you were partially at fault. He had been in charge of helping you hold it together emotionally for the last few months, and there was no space for him to get that same support from you. You both lost your best friends, but you were the only one who received help from your partner.
“Does that mean you don’t miss Patrick?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. “You haven’t talked about him in, like, nine months.”
Art’s brows furrowed deeply, casting a shadow over his increasingly narrowed eyes. “Why are you bringing up Patrick all of a sudden?” he queried, his voice taking on a defensive edge that you had anticipated. 
“Well–” you motioned around his room to indicate how empty it suddenly was– “You haven’t said a word about what happened and I can tell it’s affecting you. I’m worried. I don’t know why you stopped being friends because you never talk to me. He’s your best friend, and one day you just decided that you were done with him. I know how that feels, and I want to understand what happened.”
“Patrick and me not being friends is not the same as what Tashi did to you,” Art pointed out. His jaw clenched, signalling his rising frustration. “I never insulted him or his relationship, we just stopped being friends after the accident. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“If there was nothing to talk about, then you wouldn’t be so affected by me bringing it up,” you argued. “I’ve noticed how your face changes every time someone mentions him, and I think that talking about it might help.” Art said nothing. “Besides, he’s not at fault for what happened to Tashi. While I understand why she wants to draw a boundary between them after going through the most traumatic experience of her life, you’re supposed to be his best friend. He lost both his girlfriend and his best friend in one fell swoop for something he isn’t even responsible for.”
“It was just time, Y/n,” Art replied vaguely. His breathing became deliberate and even, each measured inhale and exhale designed to soothe his growing anger.
“Was it time, or was it convenient timing?” you challenged him.
The tension between you mounted as you grappled with Art’s emotional guardedness, yearning for him to break his silence. Even now, when confronted with your direct questions, he let nothing slip past his mask. You wondered if you had done this to him, if you had made him believe that any display of emotion would somehow set you off.
You questioned, “Was it really a natural ending to your friendship, or did you stop being friends because Tashi’s accident gave you an excuse to do so?”
Art sighed heavily, a telltale sign that he was nearing the point where he couldn’t hold it all in. “Why do you care?” he asked slowly and through gritted teeth. “You haven’t talked to him in months either.”
“Not for a lack of trying,” you retorted.
He froze in shock as your words sank in. Standing abruptly, Art took two steps from the bed and turned to face you. “You’ve been trying to talk to Patrick?” His voice wavered, rising a pitch higher than usual. A tremor of shock coloured his words, “Since when? How often?”
You uncrossed your legs and swung them over the side of the bed. “Twice a month since the accident,” you revealed. 
Clenching his fists at his sides, Art wondered, “Does he ever write back?” 
“Once. All he said was that he missed me and he wished us a happy anniversary.”
Art inhaled sharply, the sting of betrayal spreading through him. The realisation hit hard. He had assumed Patrick was out of his life and would no longer influence his relationship with you, and he was naive to have thought so.
“Fuck,” Art grumbled. “Why would you do that?”
“Because he’s my friend, and without you and Tashi I might be his only friend,” you reminded your boyfriend. “He has nobody on tour who he can rely on, he would never reach out to his parents, and he doesn’t deserve to be punished for Tashi’s accident.” You stood, searching Art’s standoffish blue eyes as you approached him, wondering when he would admit his real feelings. “Doesn’t that hurt you? Patrick has nobody.”
“How do you think Tashi feels about you talking to her ex after the accident?” Art questioned, throwing a hand out as if motioning to her. 
Your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the mention of your former best friend. “I don’t know, I haven’t exactly had the chance to ask her, Art,” you said sarcastically. “Why should I worry about what she would think? After everything she said to me, everything she said about our relationship and our inevitable fate?” Feeling cornered, you stepped to the window and looked at the empty street. “If you’re so curious about what Tashi thinks, you should just ask her. After all, the two of you are still friends, right?”
Art groaned, irritated that you brought up a past argument you had. “I already told you we aren’t friends! Sometimes we run into each other and we talk.”
Turning your head, you nodded. “Fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that you think talking to Tashi is okay, but me talking to Patrick is some sort of a crime.”
“Because Tashi isn’t in love with me, Y/N,” Art argued, raising his voice with flushed cheeks. “Don’t you see that Patrick’s just waiting around until we break up so he can swoop in and have you for himself?” 
“Where did you get that from?” The conversation you had started was escalating to a full-on fight. You felt a surge of heat spreading from your chest to your head, your racing heartbeat emphasising your growing anger and exasperation. “I know he flirts with me, I know he messes with you, but you like it! It makes you smile, and laugh, and you play into it because that’s just how Patrick is!”
“I know that!”
You began listing things off on your fingers, “He’s never told me he has feelings for me, he never tells me that we should break up, he doesn’t plant any ideas about you being a bad boyfriend in my head – or fears of infidelity, for that matter,” you added pointedly, reminding Art of the way he tried to make Patrick and Tashi insecure about their casual relationship. “He’s never done anything to indicate he’s trying to get together with me! He won’t even respond to my emails!”
“Good!” Art shouted, his face turning a deeper shade of red with anger as he approached you. “I don’t want you talking to him!”
“Why?!” You shouted back, losing your temper. Months of built-up frustration and disappointment were finally boiling over. “The second you stopped being friends he stopped answering my emails, does that sound like someone who’s trying to steal your girlfriend?” 
“You don’t know him like I do!” Art stared at you, arms falling limply at his sides. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, each inhale like a gasp. Your shoulders rose and fell rapidly, and the adrenaline coursing through you made it hard to slow your racing heart. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered.
“What?”
“You think you know Patrick because you exchanged emails? If you really think he didn’t do all of that because he’s in love with you then he’s totally played you. I know him. He’s relentless, and he’s never going to stop, Y/N. Haven’t you seen him play? He’s the master of the long game, the master of making a comeback, and the master of trick shots.”
You let out a deep, exasperated groan, your eyes rolling skyward in a dramatic display of frustration. “Why is it that we can’t have a single argument without it coming back to tennis? The person you are is not the same as the type of player you are on the court,” you pointed out. “You’re romantic and imaginative and nothing like the way you get when you play tennis. Why are all of Patrick’s qualities diminished to the way he plays a game?”
“Because everything’s a game to him,” Art insisted. “He goes through life like it’s a game and he wants to lose as little as possible.”
“But–”
“–And you,” Art interrupted. “You go through life like it’s a game too!”
“When have I ever treated any aspect of our lives like a game?” you exclaimed angrily.
“Weren’t you playing a game when you lied to Tashi about throwing every match you’ve played against each other for the last five years?” Art challenged you. 
The coldness in his eyes and how he spoke to you was so unlike him. The harshness of his voice sent a chill down your spine, making you feel like a stranger in your own relationship. It was as if the person standing before you was someone else entirely, leaving you reeling with confusion and hurt.
Head spinning, you stammered, “How do you even know about that?”
“Tashi told me. She was really upset about it, too. She was crying and I could barely hear a word she was saying because–”
“–You just said the two of you weren’t friends and that you didn’t speak to her? When did you have the time to have this heart-to-heart?”
Swallowing harshly, Art confessed, “The night of your fight.”
“Fucking hell, Art.” Incredulous, you burst into laughter, shaking your head in disbelief. “You went and talked to the woman who broke my heart the night it happened? What, you just went to her dorm to make sure I wasn’t lying to you about it?” you asked sarcastically, your eyes widening for comedic effect. “Since you seem to think I’m lying about everything, including the fact that I’ve been letting her win.”
Art scoffed. “Come on,” he replied in a harsh voice. “Do you really expect me to believe that you let her win every single game? Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because she wanted it and I didn’t,” you emphasised each word, enunciating as you glared at your boyfriend with tears in your eyes. “From the moment I met her I knew she wanted to be the best. I considered ignoring that and simply winning against her – God knows it would have made my mother happier – but I chose not to.” You wiped the tears from your cheeks harshly. “I let my mother berate me and refuse to let me have dessert and affection and whatever else normal teenagers get from their moms because I wanted my best friend to win. I wanted her to achieve her dream. I didn’t do it to have you, the person who is supposed to trust and support me most in the world, tell me that I lied about it,” you concluded, feeling utterly defeated that Art didn’t think you could beat Tashi. “What about all those times I beat her in training when the scores didn’t matter? Or the fact that I was ranked higher than her last year, even before her injury?”
“You had a great year last year,” Art allowed, averting his eyes when he saw how devastated you were. “But Tashi’s always been tougher than you.”
“Is that what she told you when you went to visit her?” you wondered. Art remained silent, and you inhaled sharply, hurt that he would believe Tashi over you. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this… Objectively, I’ve always been the better player.” Art nodded slowly. It was true; in terms of skill and precision, nobody had you beat, not even Tashi. “So if I’m stronger, faster, and more precise than Tashi, then there is no reason that she should have been beating me all these years. Except for the truth: I was letting her win.”
Art shifted uneasily, his gaze fixed on the floor, hesitating to disclose an opinion he feared might hurt your feelings further. “Everyone knows that tennis is more of a mental game than a physical game,” he began cautiously, his voice tinged with apprehension. “You have a lot of anxiety, and–”
You held up your hand, silencing him as you backed away from Art. “You know what, I’m done. I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that my own boyfriend doesn’t believe me, or the fact that you don’t believe in me.”
“Of course I believe in you,” Art disagreed.
“But not more than you believe in Tashi, right?” you retorted angrily. “Is that what this is really about? Do you want her? Were you disappointed Patrick won the match and got her number? Is that why you kept picking fights when they were together?”
Frowning, Art said, “Stop it.” 
“Is this your grand scheme? Date the best friend and then cosy up to the one you really want when the timing’s convenient for you?” 
“Well, it seems to be working for Patrick,” Art replied, just as venomous as you.
Sighing, you rubbed your forehead. “I don’t want to fight about Tashi and Patrick, I just want to understand what’s going on with you! You never tell me anything.”
“Because I feel like you’re on the verge of falling apart every time I see you!” Art exclaimed, voice edged with frustration. “The last thing I want to do is push you over the edge. We have so much going on and I feel like every time we do something together it ends with both of us being upset, and I hate it. Everything is about tennis, or Tashi, or school, or Patrick, and nothing is about us anymore!”
“I know nothing is about us anymore,” you agreed, your tone a mixture of sadness and defensiveness. “Why do you think I want you to open up? I know I haven’t been my usual sugar-coated self for the last few months, but you holding everything in doesn’t help us. I need more from you, I need you to not treat me like I’m made of glass.”
“Why am I not enough for you?” Art replied, stunning you.
Your chests heaved in unison, panting from the intensity of your argument. Your eyes locked in a charged silence. Art’s hands trembled slightly at his sides, adrenaline still coursing through him, making his heart pound against his ribcage as he met your gaze. You looked away, blinking back tears.
“You are enough for me,” you said quietly. “I don’t know how many more times I can tell you. I love you, of course, you’re enough.”
“Not like that,” he corrected you. Art sighed, his anger dissipating as he watched your growing sadness. “What did Tashi say about our relationship that’s so bad? She said we would get married and have kids and I would have a professional tennis career. You act like that’s the worst thing she could have said to you.” 
Your eyes widened in surprise as Art mentioned your argument with Tashi, your breath catching in your throat. Regardless of how impactful the end of your friendship with Tashi was, you didn’t like to speak about it. Even after all these months, Art only new bits and pieces of your argument. He knew Tashi said something about you having a family with him, and he knew it had upset you, but he didn’t understand the context. The sharp edge of your anger softened, replaced by a pang of guilt as you understood how deeply this detail had affected your boyfriend. 
Tentatively, you reached out and took one of Art’s hands. He let you, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. In a gentle voice, you told him, “I had no idea you thought that. What she said that day has nothing to do with you, trust me. She said it to hurt me because she knows that I’m terrified of turning out like my mother.”
When Art’s eyes opened, they reflected confusion. “She thinks marrying me will make you turn out like your mother?”
“Well, no, she thinks I’ll turn out like my mom if I don’t pursue a tennis career, regardless of who I marry,” you corrected him. “I wouldn’t have a life of my own. There would be no meaning, no dreams, no goals of my own, just me. And I would be vapid and destructive if I ever had kids, just like my mother was with me. It has nothing to do with you, she said those things to hurt me, to scare me.”
“A life with me scares you?”
“No, a life without purpose scares me. Now, more than ever, I feel like I have no purpose.” Your voice wavered when you spoke, barely above a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. “I thought Tashi was the person I was going to live life with, and now I have to rearrange my identity in a way that makes sense without her. She said those things because she knows my biggest fear is to hurt any potential partner or children the way my mom hurt me and my dad. I need more than that for myself.”
“You need more than me,” Art repeated, running his free hand through his hair and sighing. “That’s what I’m saying, I’m not enough for you. It can’t just be me. It has to be me and tennis, or me and law school. But not just me, or our relationship.”
“Is that wrong?” you wondered.
“I just mean– I would drop tennis for you in a heartbeat, Y/N. I would follow you to law school and go anywhere you need me to go with you because I love you. You’re it for me, you’re all I need. But you don’t feel that way about me.”
As your fingers slipped from Art’s grasp, the cold, empty space between your hands mirrored the silent, inevitable end of your relationship.
“I would never ask you to do any of those things. I would never ask you to drop tennis or tell you to do anything you don’t want to do. You have to figure that out for yourself, just like I do.” You could feel yourself getting emotional and sensed the familiar sting of oncoming tears. “You already know what you want. You’re going to go pro, and I will be there to support you in whatever way you want me to–” Art grinned. “But you need to let me figure out what’s right for me, too.” Rather than slipping from his face, Art’s smile froze there, unmoving as his eyes grew colder. “I love you, Art, but I can’t just be your girlfriend. I need to be my own person. I haven’t been my own person since– well, I don’t think I’ve ever really been my own person. I was my mother’s puppet and, apparently, Tashi’s lackey, and now I don’t know who the fuck I am.”
“I know who you are,” Art interjected. His blue-eyed gaze pleaded with you to agree, imploring you to set aside your differences and make peace.
You shook your head. “No, you don’t.”
“I love you, how can I love you and not know who you are?”
“Because the version of me you fell in love with isn’t the same without her best friend,” you explained. Wrapping your arms around yourself as if they would hold you together, your lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “I know that sounds stupid, but I’m different now.”
“I’ll wait,” Art assured you. “You can be her again, I’ll wait.”
You turned to face him, eyes red and swollen from the tears you had been fighting back. “I can’t ask you to do that. You can’t keep feeling like you have to walk on eggshells around me. I don’t know what I want anymore; the major building blocks of our lives are gone, probably for good,” you added, referencing your former friendships with Tashi and Patrick. “And all we do is fight about them.”
“Then we’ll stop fighting.”
“It’s not that easy, Art. Be honest with yourself. Have you been happy?” you wondered. “Truly happy? Tiptoeing around in case you hurt my feelings or say something that will send me spiralling?” Art opened his mouth to respond but stopped, the words caught in his throat. He looked away, knowing the truth was written all over his face. Your eyes filled with tears, glistening as they clung to your lower lashes, your breaths becoming shallow and rapid. “I know you, and I know you haven’t been happy.”
Voice cracking with emotion, Art said, “I just don’t want you to be sad anymore.” He clenched his jaw tightly to suppress the tears welling in his eyes.
“I know. I love you so much for everything you’ve done, but every time you try to heal my wounds from losing Tashi, it hurts our relationship. It’s like we’re being torn open. So please, even though it’s hard and even though you don’t want to, please tell me how you feel.” 
Art swallowed hard. Barely above a whisper, he confessed, “No, I haven’t been happy. We’ve been growing apart since the quarter started, and our shifted priorities have been driving us apart for months.”
“I agree.” You nodded, your expression calm even as a few tears rolled down your face. Soft and controlled, you said, “It’s not working. Right?”
“Right,” Art echoed, his lower lip quivering from holding back sobs. “I feel the gap widening every day and I hate it. It shouldn’t matter that I’m getting ready to go pro, and it shouldn’t matter that you’re still trying to figure out what you want.”
“But it does.”
“But it does,” he parroted.
You sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as you closed your eyes briefly. “I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted,” you declared, feeling drained by the weight of your argument.
Chuckling in disbelief, Art agreed, “I’m so tired.” When he met your eyes again, the fight had visibly drained out of him. “But I love you,” he whispered, his voice cracking.
With a wistful smile, you looked at him, your eyes revealing the quiet pain of loving someone you couldn’t fully have. “I love you too,” you replied gently, stepping closer to him. Tears escaped your eyes as you cupped Art’s face and carefully wiped his wet cheeks. “But if I’m not making you happy, then it’s not working.”
Art nodded. “And you need to figure out your own path and find what makes you happy, too,” he added.
You stood silently, the reality of your decision to break up sinking in. In the dimly lit room, you embraced for the last time, your bodies clinging as if reluctant to let go. Art’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close, while you buried her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you knew you would miss. Time seemed to slow as you stood intertwined, trying to convey how much love you still had for each other.
The moment you parted, your lips gravitated to his. You kissed him. Art nudged his nose against yours, lips, hips, and chest hard against yours. He gripped your waist, tugging you closer as your hands tangled into his hair. You could barely think about your breakup. Too busy kissing Art harder and deeper as you begged each other to say goodbye, to be together and love each other despite everything that happened. The passion and urgency of this moment filled your veins; every heartbeat was a drumbeat, echoing in your ears as you stole this moment with him.
Art Donaldson wasn’t your boyfriend anymore. The thought was almost unimaginable.
Nothing else mattered. Not the pain of mourning the loss of Art’s love or the hollow emptiness of losing another person who had once filled your days with laughter and happiness, the boy who had been the warmth in your coldest, loneliest moments. For now, the breakup wasn’t real yet. You existed outside of reality, broken up but not yet having separated your life together. You were still his, and he was still yours.
But that wouldn’t be the case for much longer.
Art’s strong body pressed against you, firm hands trailing up your waist and raising the hem of your t-shirt as he went. “I still care about you, despite everything,” he declared, his voice filled with longing and desperation. “I’m sorry. I do believe you, and I believe in you.”
You nodded, resting your forehead against his. “I know. I’m sorry too.”
Pressing kisses to his neck, you paused to pull Art’s t-shirt over his head. He exhaled shakily, hooded gaze intoxicated as he drank in the sight of you running your hands down the planes of his chest and tracing the contours of the muscles in his abdomen. His eyes worshipped you like a sacred idol, filled with awe and adoration. Art reached for your face, a thick air of anticipation growing between you as his lips ghosted yours. His lips left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck and across your collarbones, almost mirroring the movement of your hands on his body. You shivered. Each feather-light touch of his mouth ignited a spark in you. 
When you reconnected your lips, Art’s arms snaked around your waist and pulled you flush against him. You sighed happily against his mouth, and the sound seemed to make Art realise what was happening. As if an enchantment had lifted, he broke the kiss, staggering back and covering his mouth.
“Fuck,” Art swore. 
He placed both hands on his burning cheeks. Art’s chest was just as flushed as his face, and his damp hair was a mess of unruly curls. Catching your breath, you looked at him, waiting to see what he would do next. Your head spun from the kiss you shared, and you were sure your lips looked just as red and raw as Art’s. Whenever you kissed him – or even just sat beside him – Art needed to be touching as much of you as possible. Your shoulders, hands, arms, thighs, and waist were rarely free around him. His hands always roamed freely, wanting more, more, more.
Art’s distance and the absence of his touch were a stark reminder of your breakup. 
Taking a deep breath, Art met your eyes, and the intensity of his gaze made your knees weak. No matter how desperate he felt, he was being cautious with you. After all, you had just broken up, and he wasn’t sure if break-up sex was the best idea. 
“I can’t– I need to go,” Art blurted, lowering his hands. His eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape from you, the only person he couldn’t stay away from. “I have to go before I– Otherwise, I’m going to–”
“Stay,” you pleaded. Your pulse thrummed beneath your skin like a racing river, each look from Art igniting sparks of nervous excitement.
He exchanged a meaningful look with you. “Is that a good idea?”
“I want to say goodbye,” you confessed, your voice wavering. “I want to feel what it’s like to be loved by you one last time.”
Art’s lips immediately found yours, kissing you as if his life depended on it. “I do love you,” he promised. “You’re still mine for tonight.”
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soxcietyy · 5 months ago
Text
Anatomy
Gojo x reader
18 + You’re about to take one of the most important exams. Unfortunately you suck at your anatomy and need to learn the material fast. Luck for you Gojo is good at everything, not only that but he’s also a teacher. Soon you learn about his odd teaching techniques.
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"I don’t think I’ll be able to pass this test." You groan as you drink your coffee Shoko had bought you.
You were out with the two of your friends so they could cheer you up. As a healer you had to go the health care route in your studies but it wasn’t so simple.
"Why don’t you just cheat? Shoko is cheating!" Gojo looks at her before returning his gaze back at you.
You let out a deep sign as you slouch in your chair.
Just because she’s cheating doesn’t mean you should too. She’s had some good memory so it was easy to learn everything for her. Unlike you who had to actually go study for it.
Shoko said she would help you cheat through the homework, quizzes, project but you where on your own for the final exam. If you wanted to graduate at the same time as her then you would have to ace this anatomy exam tomorrow.
You felt too scared to cheat. What if you were caught? You would be academically expelled!
You groan loudly before looking up at your friends who had worried expressions.
"How bad do you guys think I’m going to do?" You ask.
"Fail"
"You’ll be fine"
They both said at the same time. Shoko elbows Gojo and then proceeds to grab your hands.
"Just study hard. I would love to help but I have a mission to go on but…" she turns to look at Gojo who was biting his biscuit. "But Gojo here is a teacher now."
Ah right, that moron did take up a teaching job right after graduating. Now that you think about it Shoko might be right. He’s a teacher! His job is to teach material to students. He could help you learn everything you need to. Not only that but he was good at everything he did, he would be able to learn everything in no time.
"Gojo you have to teach me!" You say with a pleading look.
"Haha, right as if you would want to learn anything from me. Don’t you two always make fun of me? Saying I’ll be a horrible teacher and whatnot."
Both of you glare at him.
"Ah, your serious I see.,." He says confused yet surprised.
—-
He was taking his sweet time looking over your text book. Giggling over a few certain pages before slamming the book shut.
You lift your head up from the couches arm.
"Alright I got everything down. Do you want to start with the bones or muscles?"
Gojo decided that the best place to study was in the comfort of his own home. You had protested by saying a library or coffee shop would be better because it would motivate you more.
He then proceeded to call you delusional and dragged you to his place.
It’s not like you haven’t been here before. You all used to hang out here almost everyday during high school. Now he was too busy working while you and Shoko were busy at school trying to get a masters degree.
"Bones"
You figured out really soon that his teaching techniques were quite odd.
Wack
"Ow! What was that for?!" You say as you rub your thigh.
Did he really just hit you with his arm?
"Where did I hit you?" He asks.
"My thigh you idio-"
"Wrong, tell me the name of the bone."
Ah, of course. You sigh as you tell him that he hit your femur with his ulna.
Wack, wack
That’s how studying went for a while. Eventually he would speed up the process by going faster and by hitting multiple spots at once. At the end you felt so sore.
You laid sprawled out on the floor as an ice bag rested on your rib cage.
At this point five long hours had gone by. Thankfully you had learned all the skeletal bones in the body but it was taking longer than you initially expected it to. If you guys keep on like this then it would take you forever to learn the muscles.
"You look so defeated already." Gojo said amused as you laid still.
"This is just harder than I thought it was going to be. Don’t you have a different way of learning anatomy without hurting me?" You ask.
You saw his mouth turn into a wide grin before he squatted down.
"I do have a different way but I feel like you’d dislike it." He smiles.
"I Dont care, I just need to learn the muscles in two hours!" You say looking at the clock.
"Let’s put consequences, people are prone to make less mistakes and to try harder if there’s a punishment."
You roll your eyes.
The exam was early in the morning and you needed all the rest you could get. He was just wasting time at this point. You sigh and just go along with his nonsense.
He grabs your hand and pulls you up so you could sit. He then sat across from you and took his mask off from his face.
He must finally be taking this seriously. Grabbing your hand once again he pulls your index finger and puts it on his cheek.
This was the exact same method, just with no pain involved.
"Masseter"
Then he dragged your finger to his temple.
"Temporalis"
You watch as he squints his eyes at you and looks at you suspiciously.
"I thought you needed help. Seems like you have it down."
"I obviously know a few things. For example the obvious ones like biceps. I know everything above the neck too."
He sits there in his thoughts for a moment before grabbing your hand again.
He slowly unfolded your hand and brought it to his chest. It surprised you for a second but you quickly remembered why he was doing this.
"Breast."
The both of you look at each other for a solid second. Holding eye contact before he suddenly burst out laughing. He had to catch his breath before correcting you.
"Pectoralis major"
Right… you would have totally gotten that right if it wearing for him doing such a thing.
You repeat the answer under your breath as he moves your hand once again.
This time it’s was his abs.
You swallow hands as he runs your hands over them. He wore a tight black shirt making it feel like it was his real skin. You could tell he was watching you carefully. Trying to read the facial expressions you were making. He was enjoying this…
You could concentrate at all. You had the answer on the tip of your tongue but it would spill out.
He kept running your hand up and down
"You’re taking too long y/n, the answer is recuts abdominus. We can come back to it later. Shall I give you a hard one?" He asks.
Maybe this was enough for today. Clearly he was toying with you and you had no time for such thing. Once you get home you’re going to study till midnight.
He moved your hand before you could tell him the study session was over.
It took you a moment to realize what you where not touching and it was indeed hard.
You jolt as he squeezed your hand around his length.
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about it.
Just answer the stupid question and be over with his games.
"Your small penis"
He glare’s at you as he runs your hand up and down his shaft.
"You know well this isn’t small."
You turn to look away from him so he wouldn’t see your cheeks turning pink. You could feel how it twitched under your touch, how it was pulsing begging to be let out. Begging for any sort of attention. Something you weren’t willing to give so easily.
"Anyways you’re wrong. A penis isn’t a muscle."
Huh?
"It’s not?! But you can move it right?"
Gojo for some reason took this as in invitation to unbutton his pants and to spring it out. You didn’t know whether to look away or take this as a learning observation.
Learning! You’re doing this to learn about the human anatomy! You hum in your head.
Averting your eyes down you see it. That wide long monstrous thing. How could that possibly fit inside of anyone?! Who would even want to sleep with him?
He moved it somehow. You watched it move up and down slowly.
"That’s two answers wrong in a row y/n" he coos.
Right. The punishment.
"So what are you going to make me do? Run laps? push-ups? Your chores?"
"No it’s something even better. Not only will this benefit me but it’s also going to make you learn a bit faster hopefully." He says.
Grabbing your leg he drags you towards him. You yelp at the sudden surprise. You knew he was a hundred times stronger than you so you didn’t bother to fight back. You watched him carefully as he climbed over you. His hair dangling over you.
He leans in slowly into your ear and whispered six words.
"I’m going to put it in."
Your breath hitches as you pushed him back.
This man was trying to kill you! There’s no way, absolutely no way that was going to fit in you at all! Of course you’ve had your fare share of men in you but nothing this big.
You shake your head repeatedly at him.
"You scared? Don’t worry I’ll be nice and careful. I’ll even let you stop me from moving if you answer my questions right." Gojo moves your hair to the back of your ear.
He ran his thumb over your temple in circles trying to sooth you.
All you had to do was get the answer correct right? You’ll just get them all right so he won’t even be able to enter you.
You feel as his hands run over your waist. His cold hands touching your sensitive skin before he gripped your bottoms and yanked them down. Your hands quickly go down to hide everything but he was quick to grab both of your wrist with one hand.
"You’re tempting me to just ram into you if you keep squirming like that."
You stay still causing him to laugh.
"Since you got two wrong I get to put two inches in." He says as he lines himself up with your hole.
You kick him and yell at him to stretch you out first but he refuses by saying that it wouldn’t be a punishment if he were to do that. With that out the way he began sliding into you. The second his tip went in you let out a cry of pain.
You try to run away by scooting back but he held you down and kept going in.
His eyes would squeeze shut at he bit his bottom lip. You could feel as he gripped your wrist and the leg he was holding up.
You let out a louder cry as he kept going. Begging him to stop and to let you adjust. There’s no way women actually enjoyed sleeping with him. He was carrying and actual weapon. He could literally kill someone with that.
Once he did stop you let out a loud groan.
"Such a good girl, you’re doing so good. Who would have know you were so tight." He kisses the inside of your leg.
You whimper in protest.
"What’s this?"
He points at the side of his rib cage.
"Y-your external oblique." Your voice trembles.
"Atta girl."
He then points at the middle part of his thigh.
You began to panic. Name, what’s the name?!why couldn’t they have simple names?! Why are there so many different muscles?
You open your mouth hoping the right answer would hopefully come out. The femur was located there so it had to have the word in the name right? Or at least rhyme with it. Femur-loris? Femoris? That sounded right but what if there’s a second part. Or maybe it was just one word.
You looked at him hoping for a hint but he just stared at you. Finding it amusing the way you were trying to think so hard while he was inside of you.
"You’re taking too long." He says as he shoves himself deeper inside of you.
Ngh!
You whimper as gets I n deeper.
"Femoris!" You yell out.
He makes you take in another inch.
"Fuck! You piece of shit! You’re a horrible teacher! I’m not going to learn anything like this!" You curse at him.
He slams the rest of his three inches inside of you causing you to cry. Your eyes almost roll back as you felt him stuff you. He slams your arms above your head and presses his pelvis deeper into yours. Rolling his hips over and over again making you go crazy. Your eyes began to water as you felt overwhelmed. Hot tears coating your eyelash.
Mascar stains your under eyes and your face begins to heat up. You’re begging him to slow down. Looking at him with a pleading look.
"Gojo, please! I don’t know the answer. I can’t even think straight right now!" You sob.
“Recuts Femoris." He says through his teeth.
He leads your hand to his chest and makes you tell him the answer to that one again.
You give him the correct name of it and felt as he began to slow down inside of you. He lets go of your wrists and brings his thumb to your clit. Rubbing it in circles to give you pleasure.
"A reward for being such a smart girl." He whispers.
He watches as you squirm and jolt at the sensation. He kept sliding in and out of you slowly but the pleasure was more overwhelming than the pain.
You start moaning out his name the faster he went. You’ve never felt this good before. With all the men you slept this had to the best one yet. He wasn’t even fucking you probably! He was toying with you!
What would it feel like if he was actually trying?
"Can’t you just fuck me properly?!" You say
He looks at you shocked before smiling. He put your legs over each shoulder and leaned in closer to you. You moan as he somehow reached a deeper area inside of you.
"I will when you get everything down and if you pass I’ll even eat you out." He groans as he grinds himself onto you.
You don’t know how or where all of this knowledge came from all of a sudden. Each place he pointed out you got the right answer, well almost. You would slip a few times making him pull away and slam into you. At some point your body finally adjusted to his length. This making the punishment more wanted. Sometimes you got the answers wrong on purpose.
By the end you had everything down and he was finally fucking you the way you wanted.
He had you on your knees as he plowed into you.
"I think this technique of learning is way better. Now shall we keep doing this for every exam?" He grins.
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