#this means nothing but the fact they sound so similar means everything to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

steventhusiast · 5 months ago

Text

STWG prompt 2/6/24

prompt: coming out

pairing/character(s): steddie, Dustin, Lucas, Mike

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Eddie fucked up. Big time.

See, he's truly embraced his freak status at Hawkins High. Meaning he doesn't exactly shy away from his queerness. He doesn't confirm it, not for people he's not friends with. It's just useful. Being gay is the kind of 'freak' that makes the popular kids steer clear from him, just in case they, you know, catch the queer from him.

But with his fellow freaks? They know he's gay.

In fact, they know he has a boyfriend.

He never shares who said boyfriend is, or the fact that he used to be nicknamed The Hair, because Steve doesn't want anyone to know. He's.. private about his sexuality, to say the least. And Eddie gets it. Hawkins is in the middle of nowhere, it's not exactly gay-friendly like some parts of bigger cities. So his friends don't know who his boyfriend is.

They won't until well after Steve's come out to his own friends, which he hasn't said he's ready for yet. Eddie's letting him go at his own pace, he doesn't even bring it up to him. He doesn't want Steve to feel pressured. Steve doesn't have a Wayne there to support him through everything, after all.

Anyway, despite him being anonymous, Eddie always gives everyone an update on his boyfriend before they start the session of DnD each week. It's kind of a bit for everyone involved at this point.

And in the first session that Eddie's newest fresh sheep attend, he refuses to shy away from it. Either they'll be bigots (unlikely) or they'll be fine with it! It's a risk he's willing to take for his pride.

So he gives the update.

"How's your boyfriend, Ed?" Gareth asks with a teasing grin, and Eddie's closest friends lean toward him with giggles.

"Well, my sweetheart has had a great week. Remember that job I told you he'd applied for?"

"Assistant basketball coach for a kids team?" Jeff checks, and Eddie points at him like he's just scored a point.

"That's the one! He got the job! It's a bit of a drive but it sure as shit beats the minimum wage bullshit he was doing before. I swear, his manager actually hates his guts for no reason."

The existing Hellfire members all cheer at the news, whilst one of the new recruits, Henderson, makes an inquisitive noise and chuckles.

"That's crazy, because my friend Steve called me yesterday with super similar news! Small world, huh?" He says it so casually, looking down straight after to fiddle with his dice.

But Eddie feels like the world stops, his hands freezing in the middle of unfolding his dungeon master screen. Fuck. Henderson is one of Steve's kids.

Maybe no one has actually caught on yet. A sneaky glance to his friends reveals nothing but confused frowns on their faces.

"You guys might have known Steve, actually. Steve Harrington? Used to be a mega asshole through most of high school." Wheeler says in a way that somehow sounds simultaneously fond and like he despises Steve.

"He's great now, though! Like, totally reformed. Such a mom." Sinclair adds on.

Eddie nods passively at their words, and feels Gareth, Jeff and Paul's eyes on him. Right, he's still frozen in shock. He forces himself to relax, and finally finishes setting up the DM screen.

"Haha, what a coincidence." He manages, clearing his throat in the middle to clear up an unfortunate voice crack.

That voice crack gets all three of the kids to tilt their heads at him, and then their eyes light up like they've just won the lottery.

Shit shit shit. Hopefully they haven't put two and two together.

Somehow, he manages to make it through the session without revealing anything else, but as he draws it to a close his heart starts beating faster. He doesn't know how he didn't put it together before that these kids are Steve's kids. Steve is literally going to be late to their date night because he has to pick them up from an afterschool activitiy.

What other club meets up on a Friday but Hellfire?

He shakes his head and starts speeding through packing up his stuff. He's going through in his head ways to apologise to Steve in case the kids have figured it out, heart beating out of his chest as he zips his backpack up and leaves the room. The group of newbies run out after him, though.

"Eddie, wait up!" Henderson shouts after him, and he winces but stops.

"What's up?" He says with what he hopes is a smile but is probably a grimace.

"It's so funny how you're Steve's secret boyfriend." Henderson says with a giggle after he's checked no one else has left the drama room yet.

Wait, what? Eddie frowns at him, mouth open. Before he can question anything Sinclair nods along in agreement.

"We've been guessing for weeks now. You can't tell him we found out through you, I want to win our bet."

"If we figure out who his boyfriend is by the end of the month he's taking us to that tabletop RPG store in Indy." Wheeler adds on.

Eddie gapes at them for another second.

"Wait, Steve- he came out to you? When?" He manages, and the three boys tilt their heads at him.

"Like, since a month ago?" Sinclair guesses after a moment of thought, and Eddie lets out a quiet 'huh'.

"What, do you guys not talk about that shit?" Henderson asks, and Eddie shakes his head slowly, thinking back on if he had been told and had just forgotten.

Then it clicks. Just under a month ago, Steve had started to bring up the topic of coming out, and Eddie had gently insisted he didn't mind if Steve never came out and that he loves him anyway and he doesn't want him to feel pressured. And Steve had smiled fondly and let it go.

Had Steve been trying to tell him he came out to his kids?

He lets his head drop and takes a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate. Thank fuck. He hasn't just accidentally outed his boyfriend.

"He's actually waiting for us in his car. I would say come with, but..."

"We're serious about this bet."

Eddie nods, and waves his hand in their general direction.

"Yeah, of course. Sure. You- you go win that bet. Jesus christ."

He hears them walk away and lets out an incredulous laugh to himself before he hears the drama room door swing open again, the chatter of Jeff, Gareth and Paul cutting off when they see the state he's in.

"You good, man?" Paul asks, and Eddie just lets out a sigh.

"Totally fine. Just thinking about wooing my sweetheart." He says, like they've walked into a joke he's set up.

They all groan, but continue walking toward the school's exit, and Eddie stays there, recovering from that shitshow.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #so rambly #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble

729 notes · View notes

nolovelingers · 1 year ago

Note

hi omg i loved ur hcs for ethan landry as ur bf <333 do you think you could write something like that, but for tate langdon, please?

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

ೄྀ࿐ requested ! ˊˎ-

headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsessive tendencies,, nsfw !! similar to ethans i try to keep these as realistic as my silly little mind is able to think !! very toxic relationship 🌀 talk of self harm & smoking

——————————————————————————

SFW !!

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . is like meeting someone who’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. there are no duplicates, copies or a person even remotely similar to the dark eyed boy.

there’s always been something about his odd personality that has a strange charm to it. he’s always held himself up to his own standards and even back before the entire westfield high situation he’s been very picky about his living style and the people he surrounds himself with.

so therefore when he met you, the stilled silence to his violent tornado, it was as if everything else in the world dimmed and the spotlight shone to you.

he would never leave you alone. not when you move rooms, not if you try to have people over, not when you stormed into the backyard and sat under the flickering moon as you desperately grasped for alone time. not even when you go to the bathroom.

the second he came into your life and you allowed him to, privacy no longer existed. the only time he would ever leave was if he had his own emergency to partake to or if your guardian(s) were around.

at first it was cute, you couldn’t really deny the fact that having a boyfriend so attached to the hip and dependent made your heart flutter in some sort of way. but you quickly learned that even as dreamy as it sounds it’s not all that great.

if you run to the bathroom and lock yourself inside the langdon boy is fast to follow suite, confused on where or what you were running from until he watched you shut the restroom door and he slid his back against it; knees brought up to his chest as he patiently waited for you to come back out. and trust me, he will wait. doesn’t matter if it’s hours or even half of the day. he won’t move an inch.

you hardly invite friends over but the few times you do you’re fast to regret it. you tell him your friends coming over, hoping he’ll take the hint to leave, and he’ll only blankly stare at you; face devoid of any emotion as he mutters a gentle ‘oh’ before returning to looking through your collections of whatever it is you have an abundance of. maybe books, cd’s, vinyls, comics, posters, crystals/rocks, stuffed animals, funky socks or a hoard of animal bones; there’s nothing in your room tate hasnt gotten his hands on.

even after you alert him of the approaching company unless you plan on shoving him out or repeatedly asking him to leave he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. he’s terrible at reading social cues and you have to spell out the simplest things for him.

he’s quick to judge your friends, not one of them is good enough for you in his mind and he’ll be sure to voice that. sometimes even straight to their face; with a blank expression and no emotion behind his eyes. it doesn’t matter how close or how long you’ve known someone, could even be your whole life, they’re not good for you like he is.

he often says the most terrible and disgusting things about them to your face, judging you heavily for the people you hang around and making you feel insecure.

he is definitely the type to drive wedges in between all of your relationships. just with your friends at first but as the relationship furthers he begins to do the same to your family too.

obviously he can’t leave the house but if there was ever a time you ranted about someone you dislike, hurt your feelings or overall anything spoken poorly about them he would remember it till halloween and carefully map out their murder. i mean, you wanted them to die right? why else would you tell him about it?

tate is extremely oblivious to your emotions. he loves you so much and it’s clear to him you must be meant for each other. so no matter how you feel back, reciprocated or not tate would assume you liked him too. he refuses to be in the friend zone and throws a hissy fit if you ever even try.

as we all known he’s one of the prettiest criers out there and this is very useful when it comes to manipulating. he knows you have a weak spot for seeing his tears and now anytime you try to lecture him, kick him out or he feels as though you’re not understanding his (rather malicious) side of the story the tears are quick to fall. but the tricky thing here is that they are always real tears of sadness and regret; it’s just as though he’s reprogrammed himself to cry at any minor inconvenience.

his favorite cuddle position is spooning and he often likes to be the little spoon. no one in his life has ever cared for him enough (or at least in his eyes they haven’t), and when you have your arms securely around him, pulling him into you; it’s like heaven on earth. he feels so safe, warm and comforted. there are of course days where the rolls switch but there’s really no denying he prefers to be the one being spooned.

id definitely say he’s a sort of pathological liar and even when he doesn’t mean for it to happen lies fall from his mouth as easy as tears stream from his eyes. it could be about the stupidest shit or it could be actually serious as he tries to work his way out of a situation he’s actually at fault for.

this makes it really hard to trust him, because it’s eerily scary how easy it is for him to lie straight to your face with even blinking, or come up with excuses on the spot. i know people like to claim they’re usually good at picking up when people are lying to them but with tate it’s a huge challenge. he’s unnaturally good at it and doesn’t hesitate.

it’s not easy to pick up on his fibs in the moment but there are a few times you’re able to realize later on; as his stories don’t add up or he forgot his lie in the first place and comes up with a completely different one when asked the same question from before.

and even then once he gets caught; deny deny deny. you’re the one in the wrong for accusing him of something like that when he just has a poor memory and suddenly you’re the bad guy for pointing fingers even though you’re the one with evidence and he just throws out empty accusations.

if you smoke i think he’d love to break into your stash a lot, he didn’t use weed before his death but once you introduce him i see him as a sort of mini-stoner. he’ll use your stuff without even asking. he kind of contradicts himself in that way because for the most part when he was still living he thought people who smoked or drank were stupid, ruining their body. he looked down on them. when you’re dead though you cant really destroy your body and though he still doesn’t like drinking he’ll indulge in smoking.

if you do any sort of after school activity or club he’ll encourage you to quit, telling you how it’s all stupid and a waste of time that you could be spending together. if you refuse he’ll try to sabotage it for you the best he can while being confined to the house. maybe sending a nasty email to your teacher/coach or by ruining a uniform or equipment you use.

there’s definitely times when he’s asked you to drop out of highschool to which you immediately declined and there’s not really much else he could do about this nuisance.

langdon will put you onto his likes and interests, music or movies he has a taste for. he’ll try the stuff you like as well but he’s quick to judge and doesn’t do second thoughts or tries. if he doesn’t like it he won’t even pretend to and will harsh out negative reviews before you turn it off. and then he’ll act confused on why you suddenly stopped it but he’s very glad you did. he couldn’t stand it.

and because of this when you’re hanging out it’s all about what tate wants to do. the music he wants to play. the things he wants to talk about and the films he wants to watch.

jealousy is a major problem for him and the mention of really anyone, but especially if it’s a guy, will have his blood pumping and his head spinning.

to him, he only has you. it should be the same way around, he absolutely hates that you have and know other people that aren’t just him.

tw? — if you ever try to leave him he goes all out and puts on the most dramatic show you’ve literally ever seen. throwing himself against walls, screaming and crying his eyes out, burying his head in his knees and clutching at his hair while begging and pleading for you to stay. he doesn’t get angry at all but turns more pathetic and desperate as he clings onto you. lots of “ill do better”, “you can’t leave me”, “tell me what I did wrong” and “you’re all I have”’s leaving his lips. if this doesn’t work he’ll harm himself in front of you, smashing his head against the wall or even using a sharp tool to cut into his arm while only asking one thing. “is this what you want?”

tw? — it’s a very draining relationship and can impact your mental space a lot. if you self harm he will catch you eventually, whether it’s while in the act or the scars/scabs from after. he’ll grab your arm (not assuming that’s where you sh, just so he has a grip on you), asking you how you could be so selfish (which is his way of caring) and then asking you to cut him instead anytime you wanted to hurt yourself. this is obviously off putting and drives a wedge between you for a while, which he will trap you back by guilting you and apologizing. (even though he was completely serious when asking and still is.)

the blonde haired boy lives for your validation. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and pestering you with loads of questions. whether if it’s if you like his outfit to if you still had feelings for him or not.

he’s a huge listener than he is a talker and could sit for hours, happily criss crossed and a toothless and content smile on his face while you go on about every little detail of your day.

he’s definitely asked you to do his eyeliner before but would rather die (again) than have anything else applied to his skin. it would cripple his masculinity.

overall he’s very touchy, craving for any contact he can get with you. resting his head on your shoulder, holding hands, his hand on your thigh or pinkies intwined. he always has to be touching you in some way.

recommending books and songs are one of his all time favorite things to do and he does expect you to read or listen to all of his suggestions. he’ll ask you about it a few days later after initially suggesting it and will get upset if you still haven’t looked into it.

tate hardly gets angry, he’s very sensitive as we all know and most of the time it ends in his hysterical sobs; but when the fire inside him lights it’s terrifying.

if you weren’t the one to make him angry you’d usually be okay, he’d rant about it to you while you played with his hair; describing all of the horrendous ways he wanted to see the person or thing he’s mad at crash and burn. if he’s angry at you it’s like he moves on his own, putting you in a chokehold and slamming you against the wall, yelling and pointing fingers at you. pushing items off your desks/dressers/shelf’s and you make him go away; scared of him hurting you. he wouldn’t, not intentionally, but it was a very scary sight to see.

of course within hours he’d return, tears streaming down his face and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, arms latched around your legs as he sobbed into them and refused to let go until you forgave him.

as much as he loves you and wants you to be together forever, he would never purposefully go to the extent of killing you in the house so you could stay with him forever at the age you are. it sucks, he knows it sucks, but he does have a boundary set for that. he doesn’t want you stuck there for the rest of your life. he’s just hoping you’ll stay in that house with him willingly anyway. he’d let you go after crying his heart out for days, but he’d never let you forget him or move on. and being honest; he would probably start to regret the decision.

his love for you goes beyond words, it consumes him completely. he knows now his purpose. the day he died in that house and the years that passed waiting up to the day he met you.

he was made for loving you, in his own sick way. you are his entire heart.

NSFW !!

tate is a switch in the bedroom, but he’s so easy to dominate which makes him lead towards being more submissive. of course he’ll be in his dominant moods, there’s no doubt, but it’s laughable how easy it is to take control back over him.

he loves to overstimulate you, fucking you or relentlessly giving you head for hours, not giving you rest inbetween as you beg for him to stop through shattered moans.

(if you’re a female) — we all know about his mommy issues and he definitely incorporates that into the bedroom in some ways.

(if you’re a female) — he’s a tits man rather than ass and anytime you’re going at it your shirt has to be off, he doesn’t care what size breasts you have all he wants is to attach his mouth around your nipples and tease them with his tongue, sucking lightly before leaving hickeys all over them.

(if you’re a female) — he has the best fuck me eyes the worlds ever seen and when he’s bottoming he can’t stop himself from calling you ‘mama’.

he’s very kinky, and he has put on the infamous leather suit before to fuck you. it makes him feel more powerful, like he’s in control.

when he’s topping he’ll have one hand pinning one of your arms above your hand while using his other to interlace your fingers, crying into your neck with all the pleasure he’s feeling.

he’s not the greatest on cleaning up afterwords but he always snuggles you, cuddling up to you in a ball and resting his head soundly on your chest as his breathing slows and he drifts off.

but the most important thing to know — tate is godly at sex. he doesn’t have the most experience in the world but he definitely wasn’t a virgin by the time you met and he knows what he’s doing.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ a/n : thank you sm for requesting , made my day !! i hope that this is to your liking, i appreciate the compliment ab my ethan headcanon i tried my best <33. my inbox is open to all !!

started 08.06.23. finished 08.07.23.

©️nolovelingers 2023

2K notes · View notes

risuola · 7 months ago

Text

IV — EPIPHANY // Sukuna thought nothing can break him. He's powerful, he has influence and means to always come on top – or at least that's what he thought, because now he realized that he's nohing but weak.

contents: angst, blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 2,6k words

a/n: in this part i wanted to give you a little insight into Sukuna's persona. show the menace in him, show the threat and how he is when he's not influenced by weakness that is our precious y/n (aka when he's not confused as hell by what's happening in his heart). i rewrote this part four times before i was finally somewhat satisfied with it.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

You are safe with me.

Sukuna thought about the words with hilarity. The sentence so simple and kind, it felt foreign to realize that his own mouth allowed it out of his system. An odd sort of disdain washed over himself and he found it laughable that throughout his entire career of blood and murder, what made his blood pressure raise up was a lie he told you. A strangely comic amalgamation of letters and syllables that each time he thought of them made him more angry and more amused.

You were safe, technically, or maybe that’s what he wished to believe when he replayed the events of one very unlucky Sunday evening in his memory. It began lovely, too lovely in fact, but he chose to actively ignore the oddity of it – he came to terms with how easily you were able to render his senses useless whenever you came into the field of his view wearing something as pretty as the dress you picked for the date that day. It was in a shade of pink that you deemed similar to the color of his hair, a dusty rose, you called it, and Sukuna wasn’t sure exactly how much truth was that, but he couldn’t care less about it when you looked so drop dead gorgeous. When he watched you walking next to him through the crowded alleys in the park nearby your apartment building, he couldn’t help but notice only you in the mass of people around him. He felt like a teenager in a way, with his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage with pace similar of this after sprinting for long time. You were capable of triggering reactions in his body that he thought were long gone with the days of his youth but he was fine with it. As long as he could witness your beauty, he was fine with everything.

Sukuna laughed gravelly as the sequence of memories played in his mind – the dark sound of his voice causing two police officers outside the bars of his cell to tremble. Oh, how much he hated you and your stupidly breathtaking face for whatever the hell you did to him. If he could, he would tell you what he thinks of it right now and if not careful enough, he might tell you a little too much. Confess maybe. Yeah, he might do that someday. And maybe move out somewhere where you’d truly be safe. Where he wouldn’t feel like a fucking idiot for saying words that are so damn obviously a lie.

Moving out felt like a good idea. In couple of years, when he’s done ruling the criminal forces, he could take you out of Japan, somewhere far away and protect you from any harm. He’d take you somewhere warm, where he could shamelessly admire the way your skin tone looks under the golden rays of sun and the way your eyes shine and glisten like the most expensive and rare gemstones. The thought of you brought a wide smile to his face, as the picture spread in front of his closed eyelids. In the cold of his cell, he could almost feel the burning touch of your fingers tracing the shapes of his body.

* * *

Sixteen days.

It’s been over two weeks since you last saw Sukuna and it was getting harder and harder to go about your days. You missed him. You missed his face, his strong arms that manhandled you around despite your playful taps and tugs. You missed the huskiness of his voice, the low purrs he made in the morning whenever he’d nuzzle his nose against your temple inhaling the scent of your skin that he swore he was addicted to. And above all, you were worried and restless, and scared.

Whenever you closed your eyes, your mind was flooded with memories of the Sunday date you went on with Ryomen. He picked you up and handed you a little bag filled with your favorite mochi – the ones stuffed with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, a delicacy made in only one place in Tokyo and you remember how your heart swelled with warmth and love when you realized he had driven to that shop on the other side of the city just to get you few pieces of sweets. He was wearing his usual, black dress pants and a leather belt, perfectly polished boots and a dark grey sweater that made him look both casual and dangerous, with the tattoos around his wrists exposed under the rolled-up sleeves and his sharp features, that somehow whenever were turned towards you seemed a little bit softer.

You felt like a princess next to him, you felt loved and protected with his large hand enveloping your smaller one in his warm embrace. It was perfect. It was perfect until–

You didn’t exactly pick up what happened and how it happened. Even now as you think of it, you can’t truly recall how that tale-like evening turned into a mess that led you to lose your sleep every night that followed. It was a flash. One second you were leaning into Sukuna’s palm, greedy to steal his warmth and love and next one you were pushed tightly against his chest behind a bench. His hand, that was embracing you with as much delicacy as one would use to touch a doll made of porcelain was suddenly pressed harshly to the side of your head, covering your ear. Someone was shooting, Ryomen was shooting. You felt the impact of each bullet being extracted from his weapon. Each one of the subtle shakes of his muscular body reverberated throughout your smaller frame. You heard guns, despite his effort to protect your eardrums, but the loud explosive sound mixed with screams of people around was loud and clear in your head. An echo of danger and violence that you witnessed firsthand even though the man that held you did everything he could to protect you from the event.

You remember vividly the moment Sukuna groaned and cussed lowly. It followed a soft tremble of his large body and at first you didn’t realize what happened, but then you felt the unexpected wet warmth on one of your hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he was telling you over and over again as your eyes began to water at the realization that one of your palms was covered in blood. His blood.

“It’s just a scratch,” he was lying to you, but you didn’t know it was a lie until you saw him later. The magazine in his gun was empty sooner than you thought it will be and the foreign shooting continued. It seemed like there were few attackers, but you couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from. All you remember was that you stayed hidden in the large body of your lover for the entire time until the police sirens broke the scene.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, doing everything in your power to hold back sobs, as he kept you close to himself. You knew that police couldn’t be good for him and if not for you, he would most likely run away somehow, but he stayed there, behind the bench, holding you tightly and making sure not a single bullet could land on your fragile body.

He didn’t look mad, not even annoyed, when he was telling you what to do next and how to act in the face of what was to come, and even though you had the hardest time registering it through the immense fear you felt regarding his future, you were nodding. He was calm, and you thought that he stayed calm for you because the scene of shooting was enough of a distress for you already. And then, you saw him in handcuffs, with his hands shackled behind his back, guided towards the police car. Cops that were responsible for escorting him looked almost funny next to his towering frame and if he only wanted, he would quite easily throw those officers away. But he didn’t. And he didn’t do it to save you.

You remember the last time you saw him he sent you a smile, more so a smirk, when one of those cops harshly pushed his head down, making sure he got into the car. Few moments later, he was gone and you were left with the mess of the crime scene and the burden of a witness.

Later, you were informed by one of his pawns that it’s not gonna take long, but you knew that things were serious because few days slowly turned into a week and then two weeks and he still was in jail. And you couldn’t go visit him because he said so. You stayed in his house, safe and sound in the bed you always shared with him, except now you were alone and cold. You missed him. And you were worried.

It killed you inside to think Sukuna might face charges. A life sentence, most likely. There was only so much that you knew about his criminal past and you were sure that he kept many secrets from you, that he wanted to save you from the heavy burden of his misdeeds and cruelty. You knew how dangerous his lifestyle was, how dark was the path he chose to fallow and you knew that even someone as strong as him couldn’t escape the jurisdiction forever. But why now?

You couldn’t shake off the devastating feeling of emptiness whenever you wandered between the luxurious interiors of his mansion. It felt like you couldn’t stop worrying, day in and day out you were thinking if he was alright. Was he properly fed? He told you that he won’t contact you while in jail to protect you, but all you wished for was just to hear his voice. You were worried about the way authorities treat criminals of his sort. What will they do to him? The mere thought of torture or interrogation filled you with dread and anxiety. You never felt so alone and helpless.

* * *

It took too long.

In fact, detention took much longer than Sukuna anticipated but time behind the bars was nothing but an entertainment for him. It was amusing, it allowed him to let loose. Surrounded by an air of sadistic satisfaction he didn’t get to experience in years, he played game of pushing and pulling, a game of power. Despite being enclosed and surrounded by dozens of officers and guards, Sukuna had a sense of control over his situation, and it amused him. He was enjoying the misery that he caused others, relished in the fact that he was feared and hated. It made him almost giddy. There was a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin on his lips, he relished the experience.

“I’ve got few questions to you.”

He smirked, sitting smug and relaxed. For the nth time he was questioned; a futile attempt of getting information out of him, yet another display of the illusionary power that authorities thought they had but lacked severely. It made Ryomen laugh out loud each time he sat against a new face, it pleased him, he loved the feeling of having the interrogator’s full attention. Detectives that tried to enforce the law onto him looked tough, each one of them, until they dropped their weight onto the metal chair in the interrogation room. The heaviness of the sinister aura was unnerving to anyone who dared to approach and the criminal enjoyed breaking them one by one.

“Do you?” Sukuna spoke, his voice low and menacing, but bearing a thrill of amusement and excitement. The heavy chains that grounded his frame clinked as he moved just slightly and the shiver that went down the spine of the man in front of him did not escape his watchful eye. “Afraid?”

“Hardly,” a tone of false confidence responded to the question and Ryomen chuckled. To him, this was a game, and he was winning. He found joy in annoying the interrogator, knowing that he couldn’t get anything out of him. It was stimulating, it was fun. It was a game of cat and mouse. It felt euphoric to answer the questions, knowing that his words were confusing, that he was able to mess with the man’s head, make him question his own judgement.

Years and years of being on the top of mafia managed to clear his memory of being vulnerable and the caricature of it that he was now experiencing served for a nice refresher. He felt excitement to play with the law and as he sat there, restrained by metal bounds, he realized why he became a criminal in the first place. The constant chase of thrill and power was what made him who he was.

As the detective sat there, intimidated more and more with each passing second, Sukuna watched the disaster unraveling with a dark glint in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of the tension and knew that chills were running down the spine of his current opponent. He was imposing, savoring the fear and the exquisite feeling of danger that surrounded him. It was intoxicating, it made him feel alive. He played with the interrogator as if the predator would play with its pray, he stared at him with a small grin of pure evil.

“You’ve been stubborn this whole time,” the officer said, clearing his throat and straightening his spine to make himself appear bigger but to Ryomen, he was merely a source of amusement. The criminal stayed relaxed and leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between his own face of death and the eyes of the person in front of him.

“Was I stubborn?” He questioned, his tone low and menacing and his lips stretched slowly, baring the teeth. “You’ve got me all chained up and still, you can’t get your job done?”

“You’re chained up because of the potential threat you might pose.”

Sukuna laughed. A raspy and low chuckle came from his throat; a dark omen that hung heavy in the air as if signifying the upcoming danger. It was cold and malicious, an ominous showcase of his real persona, of someone who has no compassion and knows no mercy. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of sweat running down the face of the man in front of him. He exuded an aura of fear, leaving everyone in the room unsettled.

“If I only wanted to, I could rip out your throat with my bare teeth.” Ryomen’s voice was low, it was quiet and nearly whisper like but the message it carried was more than enough to freeze the blood inside the veins of the interrogator.

“I assume you’re familiar with the idea of good cop bad cop method,” the man spoke again after a moment of dread. He cleared his throat once more, squared up his jaw.

“And which one are you?”

“Oh, I’m neither, but allow me to show you something,” interrogator reached to the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a phone with his sweaty palms and pressing down few buttons.

The moment Sukuna looked down on the screen, his expression changed. A ghost of anger washed over his features as he took in the picture. Suddenly, he felt a wave of burning hot filling his veins and reaching his face; a dizzying sensation of dread and rage and then he realized that the power he wielded was nothing. With his eyes fixed on the little phone and his jaw clenched, shaken by the rush of adrenaline and with his knuckles white, Sukuna Ryomen experienced acknowledgement. An epiphany of sorts. The illusion of might and influence burst like a bubble made of soap and slowly he realized that he’s nothing but–

“Seeing something familiar?”

–weak.

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed @b3llair3 @lzaj19 @sanzusforeverwife @annshz, @mrs--imperfect @kaminari-no-ritsusha @gojos-princesa @burpzz

606 notes · View notes

spider-stark · 7 months ago

Text

INFINITELY YOU

part three // spitfire

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI

WORD COUNT - 4.5k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete

On the walk back from Peter Pan’s, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before.

And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter.

Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd.

“New Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!”

Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film.

“And at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-”

Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. “Too old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,” you argue. “What age do most Jedi start training?”

“About four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,”

Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. “Four?!” You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. “That’s insane!”

Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror.

Furthering your point, you add, “There’s nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!”

“It’s the best way to train them!” He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, “The earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!”

For a heartbeat, you’re rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him.

“That sounds like emotional abuse,” you finally huff, shaking your head. “Actually, scratch that—it doesn’t sound like emotional abuse, it just is!”

“It’s not abuse-”

You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Give me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they aren’t abusing them.”

“Uh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!” Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is.

“Or maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!”

The expression on his face is downright laughable.

It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk.

“Exactly,” you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory.

Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you.

“The Jedi Order is not a cult!” He finally shouts after you.

Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, “Whatever you say, bug-boy.”

Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas.

“Look,” you tell him, pushing the door open, “if liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then I’ll gladly watch them with you.” A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, “Maybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.”

Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, he’s only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. “I just can’t believe that Peter hasn’t made you watch them already,” he admits. “I had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!”

His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile.

Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect.

This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his world—and it was because of this that you assume that you’re somehow the common denominator in his discomfort.

Still, you don’t let yourself ask him about it. For as much as you’re starting to like Parker, you don’t know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life.

Not yet, at least.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.” You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. “It’s not like I’ve got any plans for the rest of the day.”

You couldn’t even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mj—the night when everything went so horribly wrong.

Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. “I should probably get back out on the streets,” he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. “But, I don’t know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?”

Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that you’re sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villains—so why did he have to go, too?

You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldn’t have to be alone; so that you wouldn’t have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter.

The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating.

“For sure,” you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that he’d stolen from you, you add, “But shouldn’t you at least come in and change?”

His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. “Nah—I think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, y’know? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.”

It’s hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs.

“Sounds like a plan,” you second his idea. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?”

A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grins—a wide and endearing sort of grin—as he takes a step back, “I won’t be gone long,” he promises before reminding you, “lock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-”

He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didn’t bring a phone with him to this universe—and that, even if he did, there likely wasn’t a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel.

“If you need anything, call 911.”

“Got it,” you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment.

Turning to go inside, you can’t ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest.

You could definitely get used to having him around.

A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room.

Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street below—a window that hadn’t been open when you left earlier.

A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame.

Someone had come in through your window—and it didn’t appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance.

Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps.

Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peter’s mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dust—until now.

You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night.

But you’re used to pain—and so you’re easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence.

As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you can’t help but hear Tony Stark’s voice echo in your mind.

If you’re gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protection—he had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around it—not that you need it.

Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. You’re good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at it—every movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that it’s nearly silent.

Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest.

The incessant beating worries you—because you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesn’t have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction.

No—what you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar!

An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartment…

Alright—you think, approaching the end of the hall—perhaps it’s a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil.

Peeling one hand from the bat’s handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parker’s room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space.

The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver.

Parker—the room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night.

On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear.

The room was messy, but empty.

Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, you’re overwhelmed with dread.

If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could be—save for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletries…

Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch.

The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, you’re able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress.

For a split second, you think of Parker’s advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket.

You think of how you should follow that advice.

You think about how fast you could run—if you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you.

But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force.

Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, they’re asleep.

Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, you’re finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat.

So this must be Peter 2.

The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow he’s holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume.

Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, you’re met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask.

The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it off—it seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattress—take it off.

You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-

Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that you’re able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focus—even if the remnants of it still linger.

You shouldn’t be interested in him—you should be pissed at him.

Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you.

Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach.

A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs.

You’re actually shocked that you landed the blow—in truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him.

“Morning sunshine,” you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer.

He’s scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot you’d created on his stomach. “What the fu-”

His voice is hoarse—from sleep or pain, you’re not sure—and he doesn’t finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice.

“I don’t know what things are like in your world,” you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, “but in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.”

He’s still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that he’s going to apologize. It’s what Peter would do, and Parker, too.

But not him.

“Your friends said I could stay here,” he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. “It’s not breaking and entering if you were invited.”

“And did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?” You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. “Word of advice: next time you’re invited to stay in a total stranger’s house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.”

He mocks you without missing a beat, “Word of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhood—if you don’t want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.”

“Ah, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!”

“You’re a pretty girl in a dangerous city,” he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.”

The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile that’s more predatory than sweet. “Aw,” you coo, “so you think I’m pretty?”

He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. “I think you’re irresponsible—and a little cocky.”

“Better to be cocky than a felon,” you remark. “Just spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when you’re not dressed like… that.”

It’s not that his suit wasn’t nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peter’s suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man.

Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your building…

“I tried knocking.” he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. “You weren’t home.”

You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home.

“Then you should’ve waited until I got home,”

“I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.”

“Then you should’ve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,” you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds.

The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence.

Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught.

You can tell that he’s watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Fine,” amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, “fair enough.”

For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. “Fair enough?” You echo, shaking your head slightly. “That’s all you’ve got? No apology?”

He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses.

“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,”

He’s baiting you—he has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And it’s working—god, you hate how much it’s working!—because you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat.

“By the way,” he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, “you’re bleeding.”

As if his words switch a flip in your head, you’re suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it.

Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist.

Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. “You should probably take care of that.”

He’s already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the other room,” he calls over his shoulder. Once he’s standing in front of Parker’s door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. “Where I’m hoping you won’t follow me.”

Everything about him causes your blood to boil—his grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips.

“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt.

It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly don’t look intimidating like this—the lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the wound—but you don’t care.

“I don’t have to let you and Parker stay in my house—I’m doing it because I’m nice, alright? And, so far, you’ve been nothing but a dick!”

The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesn’t bother commenting on the nickname. “Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe you. Especially since you’re the one calling me names.”

The levity in his tone makes you want to scream—what was his deal?!

You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. You’re not sure if it’s frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. “Look, I don’t know you, alright? But this? Isn’t gonna work,” you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. “If you plan on staying in my house, then you’ll get your shit together—got it?”

His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech.

“No crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!” You huff, shaking your head. “Or, I don’t know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!”

The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand and—

He laughs, a genuine laugh that isn’t born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. “You should work on your insults,” reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. “Because that was pathetic.”

It’s no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stop—leaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot.

He’s beautiful—a commonality among Peter’s variants, it seems.

He’s smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But you’re not focusing on that—no, you’re focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes.

His eyes.

They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean you’ve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasn’t the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters.

“Have we–” your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. “Have we met before?”

It’s a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as it’s spilling from your lips. You couldn’t have met him before—not when the two of you weren’t even from the same universe!

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and you’re already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment he’s about to fling at you. “I’ve met you,” he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, “You should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.”

You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood.

“But just so I know,” you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, “if Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?”

You have to force yourself to take a breath. “What did I call you in your world?” He’s silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parker’s room—their room—open, he smiles.

“Pete.”

a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.

also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you 💖 as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th

630 notes · View notes

isaacswhy · 5 months ago

Text

professional

isaacwhy x gn!reader (sfw) summary: what it's like to date isaacwhy as a content creator/streamer + moving in to tgc's austin house requested?: no a/n: this is essentially a really long drabble but im calling it a fic

It might be embarrassing to admit to people, but you first met Isaac on a discord server. He was hosting one of this discord events with a bunch of different YouTubers and you got an invite from a friend that was also going to be in it. You didn't win by any means, but you did make enough of an impact to see a friend request from Isaac in your inbox after it was over.

To your surprise, he messaged first. Your conversations were casual, discussing the project you were in and his future ideas. You shared your own video and stream ideas to him, getting his input on everything. Even if your content wasn't the exact same, your eye for content creation seemed quite similar.

Maybe it was because of quarantine, but the two of you were messaging all day. You'd get a message from him around noon, and you'd message periodically throughout the day until it was almost three in the morning and you could hardly keep your eyes open.

Then the calls. You'd call each other on discord, chat a bit, but mostly you'd just chill and work on videos. Things would get quiet because you were both focused on editing, but it was nice having his company. Once the two of you would agree that you'd worked long enough, you'd hop on a game together. Sometimes, his friends would play with you guys, but you loved the nights it was just you two.

When Isaac would stream with his friends, you were often there. You got to know his friends, and they were nice. You were slowly getting in on the inside jokes, hanging out with them on group calls once or twice a week, and messaging some of his friends outside of group events on occasion.

Nothing could compare to how much you talked to Isaac, though. You'd call him pretending you needed help with something just for an excuse to talk to him all night. He was doing the same, too, and you were picking up on it. He was just so mesmerizing, and there was nobody you'd rather hang out with. Every time you were talking, you just couldn't stop smiling and laughing at every joke he made.

It took around six months to realize what it was. You were crushing hard. Coming to terms with the fact you were e-crushing on a boy was sort of embarrassing. If you ended up dating, that'd make you edaters, even in quarantine. Even the cringe you felt at the prospect wasn't enough to stop you from being just so into him.

As much as you tried to ride it out and see if it would disappear, your feelings toward Isaac were only getting worse by the day. Eventually, you had to bite the bullet. Your confession came on one of your late night calls with Isaac, around 1 AM. You were talking about essentially nothing until you went quiet for a bit. He asked you what was up, and it just all came out.

Isaac was shocked, to say the least. He went quiet for a bit and you felt your heart in your throat. The silence broke when you heard a soft laugh of disbelief from his microphone, Isaac clearing his throat and sitting up in his chair, and saying, "Fuck, me too."

The wave of relief that washed over you in that moment was like nothing you'd ever felt before. It turned into giddy laughter from both of you and embarrassed admissions of the fact you were going to be edaters. The two of you decided it would be best if you kept things pretty slow as you figured it out, not telling the friend group just yet.

It went easier than you thought. Your calls and messages were as frequent (if not more), you were just a little more honest with each other. Being able to tell him how nice his voice sounded whenever it came to your mind was a perk. Isaac, it seemed, had a lot of repressed things he didn't say. You'd get random compliments a few times an hour and it would just melt you.

God, Isaac was so obviously in love with you. Good morning and good night texts every day, sending you photos from social media that you posted just to compliment everything he liked about it, and showing you off to all his friends as soon as you were ready to tell them. Turns out, they'd picked up on what was going on between you two. Nick, Tanner, Larry, Yumi, and Grunk all had a shared bet on when you'd get together (closest one wins, it was Larry).

Almost three months into your relationship, Isaac slipped up and finally said "I love you". You didn't hesitate to say it back. In truth, you'd both been in love with each other before you got together and you were both waiting on the other to say it. Isaac was just about to get off call to stream and said, "Alright, see you in chat! I love you!" He was a little late to stream that day.

The amount of times Isaac says sappy shit and "I love you" needs to be recorded. He's just hopelessly in love. And you're hopelessly in love with him, too. You're almost as bad as he is, but you'd never admit it. He won't hesitate to parade you around to his friends if it's something you're comfortable with.

Time was flying by, so it was a surprise when he was suddenly talking about moving in with his friends in Texas. It was a good idea, although a little bit of a risky investment with the previous content houses. With how confident he was in the idea, you were behind him whether or not it turned out well.

Then, he asked you to join them. It shouldn't have been as surprising as it was, given you were his partner. Either way, you were more than happy to say yes. It was a scary endeavor, but you would get through it with Isaac by your side. Though, the two of you had never met in person and you'd be moving in together Isaac had offered to pay for an apartment for you to live in nearby, but you'd much rather live with your boyfriend.

So, before you knew it, the time had come. Isaac and his friend had driven all the way to your house, you piled yourself and your things into the truck, and set off. The ride felt no different than any of your nightly discord calls. You bounced off each other just as well as you did before, the fear of awkward tension dissipating immediately.

The drive was long. Picking up friends on the way was nice, Isaac's mom was super nice, but in general it was still a long drive. It only dawned on you how little you had recorded the first day once it was almost over, and you rushed to record a bunch of new footage once you were in Austin.

Halfway there, you got to Blake's house to take a rest stop for the night. You and Isaac took the guest room and took a few photos together. It felt surreal to finally be with your boyfriend in person, cuddled up in one bed together. You got to kiss him for the first time, and it was better than you could imagine.

Before you took off the next day with Blake and Nick in the other car, you made sure to take a photo of Isaac to post on your social media (with his head cropped out). No official confirmation of your relationship, but it was nice to be able to post your boyfriend. Of course, any of the rumors fans had started were extinguished by other fans for speculation, but you couldn't help to laugh at the fact they were right.

Through all the trials and tribulations of the next day, you finally arrived at your new home. Tanner and Larry were already there, having flown in before your group had gotten there. Somehow, in the little time they had been there, the house was both empty and a mess at the same time.

All that aside, you were happy to settle in for the night with Isaac. It was your second full day of being together and it felt you'd known each other for a lifetime. You slept with your head on his chest and woke up to him having picked you up breakfast. It hadn't occurred to you until that moment that Isaac might know your go-to orders and foods you liked best.

You had breakfast and went downstairs to find Isaac hanging out with Nick. You didn't say anything until you cuddled up next to Isaac on the couch, mumbling a 'thank you for breakfast' into his shoulder. Nick shot you two a judgmental look before returning to unpacking his room.

It took you another hour of chilling and waking up before you finally began to get your room unpacked. He had put up a lot of little trinkets from your favorite shows on the shelves he bought alongside his own. By the time you guys had your room and office set up, it was about time to get dinner and wind down for the night.

You did your first stream from the new office after you ate, the boys coming in periodically. Your chat asked about the new location and you got to be the one to announce the move, calling all the boys into the room. Isaac's height made it conveniently easy to keep his face out of frame, and you had to remember to tell him he couldn't lean down too much to hug you without an accidental face reveal.

It wasn't much of a surprise how chaotic the house ended up being. The boys had their moments of being utter idiots, but they were a lot more fun to get to know in person. Isaac gushed to you one night about how happy he was that you were friends with his friends. Even if you spent the most time with your boyfriend, you casually were hanging out with the guys all the time.

When it came to being in the background of streams, you and Isaac were the stars of the show. You didn't always do content together, but if you were seen on a stream it was always as a pair. The dating rumors came back with a vengeance, and you had to consider whether or not to keep your relationship under wraps from the fans anymore.

It didn't matter, though. Isaac was on a late night stream with Tanner and Blake and mentioned how he was planning your anniversary without even thinking. The fans sufficiently blew up at this news, but it came with a plethora of well wishes. Any shock wore off and you realized it was a weight taken off your shoulders to not have to hide it.

Of course, you gave the internet a mirror selfie of Isaac holding you by the waist from behind as a confirmation on your end. As a treat.

#isaacwhy #isaacwhy x reader #the group chat #the group #the group x reader #tgc #tgc x reader #yumi #softwilly #bigt #larry croft #grunk

199 notes · View notes

world0fmadness · 4 months ago

Text

LITTLE SNOWFLAKES

sebastian vettel x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughters

♡ how valerie and valentine vettel / little snowflakes came to be!

୨୧ this can kind of be any era but i think it works best with retired sebastian <3

♡ view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: lisztomania by phoenix - blue romance by black honey

♡ when you guys found out you were having twins… oh boy… that day was a day to be remembered

୨୧ the second the nurse performing the scan said “ oh… hold on a second, looks like you’ll be needing two cribs ” with a soft chuckle, the room went so quiet you could hear a pin drop

♡ but then sebastian spoke…

“ yep… yeah, i guess we will, huh? jesus christ! two babies… that’s… oh, that’s so exciting ” ( it took a couple seconds for it to really click in his head before a huge, goofy smile spread across his face and he started laughing )

୨୧ when you guys get home, he’s straight to his computer, looking up online stores to buy things for twin babies

“ oh! look here liebling, a twin pram! we’ll probably need that, hm? ” ( okay, now it’s really really beginning to click in his head that he’s getting not one but two babies and he couldn’t be more excited )

♡ he goes on quite a shopping spree that afternoon, ordering things like another crib, cute matching twin plushies and WAY more bottles…

୨୧ your babies arrived on valentine’s day!

♡ the birth went fine! except for the fact you had to push out TWO babies…

୨୧ you had a moment filled with nothing but hatred for sebastian for putting two babies inside of you, cussing him out all while he holds your hand

♡ he gave a slightly freaked out look towards one of the nurses who simply told him it was “ totally normal ” and you didn’t mean what you were saying

୨୧ so he doesn’t say anything, just keeps brushing your hair back from your face, cheering you on and praising you for how much progress your making <3

♡ it just felt right to name one of your babies valentine… your greatest gifts made from love arriving on the day of love and the second would be called valerie

୨୧ sebastian is a natural at cradling both of them at the same time almost immediately, you swear just about everything comes naturally to him!

♡ he nicknames them his little snowflakes because whilst from afar snowflakes may look identical, when you really look at them, they’re actually always unique and it’s the same for his babies! his girls may look the same but they’re their own person, they’re both so unique and special in their own different ways <3

୨୧ since they sleep in the same room, when one of them wakes up crying, so does the other…

♡ sebastian is always the first to jump out of bed, telling you to go back to sleep, claiming you need it more than him since you just went through the birth and hey, you’re not going to fight him on that

୨୧ but often times, you do stay awake, waiting for him to come back to bed, more often that not with both of his little snowflakes cuddled in his arms

♡ he slips back into bed next to you, being extra careful with the twins before gesturing for you to cuddle up into his side

“ they’re so perfect, liebling… thank you, thank you for giving me such perfect girls ” ( his voice sounds slightly choked up and before long, you see small tears dripping down his cheeks, you spend the rest of the night cuddled up together, whispering words of love towards your husband and your babies as he falls into a deep sleep )

୨୧ sebastian LOVES teaching his little snowflakes all about animals and bugs, making sure they know how important it is to take care of their planet

♡ because of this, valerie and valentine don’t really want a lot of toys and similar things when they’re children! they’re incredibly aware and smart for their age which is something you both take a huge amount of pride in

୨୧ the only thing his snowflakes really want is those monthly subscription wildlife magazines! y’know the ones that come with a plushie and other little knick knacks like plastic bug containers?

♡ sebastian had already signed them up for it when they were old enough to read a lot and showed an interest in wildlife like he did and they’ve become OBSESSED with receiving them every month <3

୨୧ he has to hold back a huge smile everytime one of the twins asks him when the end of the month is, so happy that his little snowflakes care about the planet as much as he does

♡ the twins LOVE bugs and always try to bring them into the house, yelling for their papa to come and see what they’ve caught this time

୨୧ it can be slightly daunting for you to see them walk through the back door, one of them holding a bug in hand, knowing they’ll probably drop it in the house and it’ll be weeks before you find it…

♡ which is why when sebastian hears them yelling, he’s speed walking towards them and gently steering them right back outside with a hand on each of their backs, throwing a wink your way as he walks out the door

“ what’ve you got there my little snowflakes? come, outside, show me outside on the grass ” ( you let out the most relieved sigh, thankful you won’t be moving your couch to try and find some bug )

୨୧ the twins absolutely love going on bike rides with sebastian too, it’s one of their daddy daughter activities, leaving you once a week for around an hour or two to have some me time

♡ when they get home, they’re talking your ear off about EVERYTHING they saw, no matter how mundane it may seem, sebastian’s little snowflakes find beauty in everything around them

୨୧ sebastian built a tree house for the twins in your backyard!

♡ not only did he build a treehouse, he decked it out inside with SO many books about bugs and wildlife and shelves for them to put their little bug containers on…

୨୧ safe to say they spend more time in the treehouse than they do your actual house! it’s hard for you guys to get them out of there, even just for lunch and dinner

“ will you come down from there, my little snowflakes? please? your lunch is ready… okay, well you know, i just found this really cool spider and i wanted to show you guys before lunch but i guess you’re not interested- ” ( they come barrelling out so fast sebastian yells at them to “ please be careful ” and extends his arms, fully prepared to catch them if they fall )

♡ you guys take the twins out for ice cream a lot! it’s one of their favourite sweet treats

୨୧ which is probably because you ate it a LOT whilst pregnant with them…

♡ sebastian goes in to order with the girls whilst you sit at one of the tables outside, watching them through the glass windows of the store with a soft smile on your face

୨୧ you chuckle as you see sebastian have to hold valerie up on his feet so that she can see the flavours, she’s always been the smallest of the twins which makes him especially soft with her

♡ when he comes out, he gives you a cone of your favourite ice cream with two chocolate flakes stuck in it, you didn’t think he forgot your favourite did you?

୨୧ sebastian makes them tuck a napkin in their shirt, no matter how embarrassing they think it is, he doesn’t want you having extra laundry that could’ve been prevented

♡ they already get so many clothes dirty from sitting on mud in the garden, you should really get around to buying them more overalls!

୨୧ as you all sit in the sun, eating your ice creams ( some faster than others ) sebastian can’t help but admire his little family! his gorgeous wife and his perfect little snowflakes

♡ oh, how lucky he feels…

sebastianvettel and ynln: merry christmas from the vettel family ⛄️ 🦌 🎄

sebynforever: the vettel twins are so big now, oh my god

> loveyouseb: sebastian’s snowflakes in the snow 🥹

lewishamilton ✔️: merry christmas to you two and the girls! hope they liked my presents ❤️

> sebastianvettel ✔️: they loved them, thanks lewis! - sebastian

#sebastian vettel x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 headcanons #f1 smau #fluff headcanons #headcanons

213 notes · View notes

skzstannie · 11 months ago

Text

"Do you want to start over?"

SKZ-> Bang Chan x Reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers wc: ~4,100 cw: arguments, mentions of alcohol and Chan's drunk, use of Y/N (soz, I tried not to), reader’s a university student

summary: a fun night out leads to a much needed confrontation

A/N: Hiii! Some romantic angst for today with Chan. I'm on break for the holidays, so expect lots of fics during the next few weeks!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"We have got to get out more! This is so fun!" your friend yells over the loud music playing in the bar.

The time reads 12:30 A.M, and as much fun as this is, you can't deny the fact you're getting tired.

"For real, I could go all night!" another one of your friends says, her arms swinging over her head to the beat of the music.

Your eyes widen at that- all night?

"Come on Y/N, dance! You don't even look like you're having fun." They grab your arms, swaying you back and forth.

You let them have their fun for a few more songs, allowing your whole body to feel the music.

The time slips away from you, the rampant atmosphere providing you a distraction from your drowsiness. Your alcohol intake is definitely a factor, as well.

Your phone rings in your pocket, bringing you back to reality. You unlock it to reveal Changbin's name. You haven't heard from him, or any of your ex's other friends, since the breakup. Not that you were expecting to, but it's definitely strange for him to be calling you now.

Figuring it could be an emergency, you excuse yourself from the dance circle your friends have created and step outside to take the call.

"Hello?" you answer, your voice timid.

"Hello? Y/N?" you hear from the other side. He sounds a little out of breath, a hint of panic coming through.

"Yea, Changbin, is everything alright?" you question, your concern growing.

"Um, kinda? I don't know," he responds, sounding distracted. He sounds distant now, like he's pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Where are you? Do you need help?"

"Well, I'm with Chan. We're in the park, just off your university campus. He's refusing to go home until he sees you. He's pretty wasted right now, but I can't get him to come home, so I figured giving you a call was worth a shot."

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear Chan's slurred words in the background. "Is-is that Y/N? Let me talk to her."

"No, Chan, just sit back down." You hear some shuffling from the other side before Changbin's voice becomes clearer again. "Hello? Are you still there?"

You debate hanging up. This was not supposed to happen tonight. Your friends brought you out to forget about him, not go and see him all desperate and drunk for you. Somewhere in the back of your tipsy mind, you know you want to see him, to touch him one more time.

Your breakup was sad for both you and Chan. You were the one who ended it. It was nothing Chan did; you were just far too stressed with everything you had going on, and you didn't feel like it was fair to Chan. He was always busy with producing, and if he wasn't producing, he was in meetings or hanging with the boys.

You always had class and work, and you felt like you were starting to neglect your studies. With you nearing the end of your degree, entering your senior year a few months prior, that was the last thing you needed.

So, for the sake of both of your education and futures, you broke it off. It was sudden, and you caught him completely off guard with it.

You remember how absolutely heartbroken he sounded, the sounds of his choked up words forever tattooed on your brain. "What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?" He'd grabbed your hands, pulling them close to his chest. His heartbeat was erratic, similar to his breathing, and the tears welled in his eyes so fast you feared they'd spill over before you could even respond.

"I just think it's for the best," you had replied. You were cold and emotionless with it, trying to protect your own heart in the process of breaking his. You never did tell him why you were ending it. You were scared he'd call you ridiculous, saying that that's no reason to breakup, and that he could fix it.

That's not what you had wanted to hear at the time. You felt you were doing the right thing for both of you.

It had been months since then, and your heart never healed. You still loved him, but you were always too embarrassed to reach out. After all, it was your fault. You were the one who broke up with him, not the other way around.

You never heard from any of the other boys either. You knew they were a tight-knit group, so you assumed they hated you. You hated yourself too, in a way. You broke his heart into a million pieces and never even told him why.

You wanted him. You needed him, so so bad. You've been waiting for this moment for months. Sure, maybe you weren't expecting him to be completely wasted, but you couldn't let this opportunity slip. Your friends would be upset, probably tell you it was a bad idea and drag you home. That's why you weren't going to tell them the details.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get him." You hear Changbin's sigh of relief from the other side of the phone as he tells you exactly where they are.

You hang up and send a quick text to your friends who are no doubt still dancing up a storm inside the bar. You're brief with them, telling them something came up and you have to run home. You don't wait for their reply, hurrying off to hopefully fix the biggest mistake of your life.

~ ~ ~

"Y/N, thank God you came. He's been out of his mind for hours now," Changbin tells you as you walk up to them. You see Chan sitting on the park bench beside him, and his head whips up at the sound of your name.

Chan's eyes widen at the sight of you. He jumps up, stumbling a bit, but he's able to regain his balance. He's surprisingly quick in making his way over to you.

You can smell the alcohol on him from a few feet away, but you don't pay it any mind as he throws himself at you, his arms heavily hanging over your shoulders. "Y/N," he slurs, "You're here."

He sighs into your neck, his head leaning to rest on your shoulder. Your arms come up around his waist, holding him up. He's not putting all his weight on you, but you still struggle to keep him upright, his drunken state making it hard for him to stand straight.

You look to Changbin, your arms straining around Chan's body. "What should we do?" you ask him. You're not sure what the rest of Changbin's plan was. You come here to see him, then what? Take him home? Send them back on their way? You're not entirely sure which you'd prefer, to be honest.

"I wanna go home with you," Chan whines in response before Changbin has a chance.

"I don't know, Chan, I don't think-" Changbin is quick to cut you off.

"I'll help him to your place." He walks over to you guys, practically ripping Chan off you. He drapes one of Chan's arms over his shoulders, holding up most of his weight.

You stop and think for a moment.

What are you doing!? You can't bring your ex back home! Your tipsy, and he's absolutely wasted. Even if you were to ever reconcile, you certainly didn't want it to be under these circumstances.

"Changbin, I-"

"Nope, this is your mess, and you know you need to fix it." He starts to drag Chan in the direction of your apartment, Chan letting out incoherent babbles along the way.

You're still stood in the same spot, but you rush to catch up to them.

"Excuse me?" you let out in disbelief.

"You heard me," he sasses back, leaning forward to make eye contact with you around Chan's hanging head. "You know what you did wasn't right, and I know you regret it."

Your jaw drops. How did he know this?

"You can't just assume I've wanted to run back to him all this time," you rebut, draping Chan's other arm over your own shoulders to help him walk a little steadier.

"I'm not assuming anything. Your roommate told me. We know you've been just as much of a wreck as he has been."

You scoff but leave it at that. How could you argue when he knew? He knew that you've been struggling ever since, crying day and night. Embarrassment washes over your body, already planning out the conversation you'll have with your roommate about sharing your personal problems with your ex's best friends.

It's silent for a few minutes. You're nearing your complex now, the light from the streetlights dimming, transitioning into the light from your neighbors' porchlights.

"How much did she tell you?" You ask as the three of you approach your front door.

"Enough to know you need this just as much as he does."

~ ~ ~

You unlock your front door, Chan breaking free from Changbin's hold and stumbling into your apartment. You watch from the foyer as he trips over his own two feet, falling onto the couch. You allow your gaze to travel over to Changbin, assured that Chan will be staying in one spot for at least a few minutes.

"You ok?" he asks, his concern for you showing for the first time that night.

While your roommate never made it known to you, the boys had texted her just days after the breakup, asking what had happened. She had explained your side of things to them, and she made them promise not to tell Chan. She didn't want to meddle in your love life like that. As stupid as she thought you were being, it wasn't her place, or his friend's place, to tell him anything.

They agreed not to tell Chan anything, if and only if she agreed to keep them updated on you.

"I'm fine. Yea, this is fine," you rub your hands over your face, trying get rid of the tiredness surely covering your features.

"I'll text you guys tomorrow afternoon," he says, turning to head back to the front door. You follow him, seeing him out.

He steps outside, turning back around and catching the door before you can close it. "I know we sprung this on you, but don't stress out about it. Just do what feels right," and with that he turns and walks down the stairs, not waiting for your reply.

You slowly the close the door, allowing your back to slide down it. You sit on the floor, your elbows resting on your knees, palms holding your head up.

Your heart races knowing who waits for you in your living room. What do you say? Do you wait until morning to hash it out? That would probably be best, but what if he wants to talk about it now?

Heavy footsteps bring you out of your thoughts. Your eyes snap up from the ground, seeing Chan making his way towards you.

He clumsily settles himself in front of you, crossing his legs as he leans back on his arms, his palms resting flat on the floor behind him.

His eyes are glossed over from the alcohol, a lazy smile gracing his lips. "I've missed you."

Your heart flutters at that. You feel the familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach, and you're not entirely sure how to respond. With the exhaustion from your night's activities taking over your body, all you really want to do is go to sleep. Your mind is not in the right space to have a conversation with him right now.

"What do you want me to say, Chan?" you let out a breathy chuckle, your cheeks flushing pink. As tired as you are, his words still have an affect on you.

"Preferably that you've missed me, too."

"This isn't the right time to have this conversation. You're drunk, and I'm tipsy and exhausted. Let's go to bed, and I promise we'll talk about it in the morning," you tell him, rising to your feet. You reach a hand out to him, offering him help to stand.

His face morphs into a pout, and he holds out his pinky towards you from his spot on the floor. "Promise?" his voice wobbles, tears springing into his eyes. He'd always been an emotional drunk, his vulnerable side surfacing at the mere sight of alcohol.

Pinky promises had always been your thing when you were together. Until this day, neither of you had ever broken one. It was honestly a really important part of your relationship. Your plans would fall through sometimes, or somebody would forget to pick up dinner, but if you guys pinky promised, you knew you could fully trust them. Him remembering this in his drunken state does something to your insides, pulling on your heart strings a bit.

You hesitate, taking your lip in between your teeth, but eventually latch your pinky onto his.

"Pinky promise."

~ ~ ~

"Alright, here's a couple blankets and a pillow. The T.V. remote is right there, and I'll get you a glass of water and some ibuprofen for the morning. Anything else?" You set the bedding onto the couch, smoothing out the sheet you had laid there beforehand.

"Hmmm," he hums, bringing his finger up to his lips, portraying a very exaggerated thinking face. "Will you stay with me?" He tilts his head at you, patting the spot beside him.

"I will not. I will be sleeping in my own bed."

He pouts at that, and you quickly turn away, fearing you won't be able to hold strong if you look at him much longer.

You get ready for bed, making your way around your apartment turning all the lights off. You flip the lights out in the living room, the television providing a soft glow to it's surroundings.

"Goodnight Chan, sleep well." You wait a few seconds for a reply, but all you hear in return is his heavy breathing, small snores escaping his lips every now and again.

~ ~ ~

You're awakened from your slumber at the sound of your door creaking open. Your head jumps off your pillow, abruptly sitting up in bed.

You let your defenses down upon seeing Chan's face, slightly puffy with sleep.

"Do you need something?" you ask softly. You glance beside you at your alarm clock.

4:43 A.M. Way too early to get up.

He doesn't respond, the only noise in the room coming from the sounds of his socks shuffling against your soft carpet. He makes his way to the side of your bed, looking down at you sleepily.

"Chan, go back to bed. It's too early." You roll back over, too tired to play any games so early in the morning.

It's silent for a moment, and you almost allow yourself to fall back to sleep, but you jolt at the feeling of your bedding dipping behind you. Chan pushes up against your back, moving you further away from the edge of the bed.

He slides underneath the covers behind you, his strong arm coming up to wrap around your middle, pulling you closer to him.

He's incredibly warm, and you can't help but cuddle into him further, feeding off the heat his body is providing you.

He lets out a long sigh, his breath blowing up against the back of your head.

You lay there, stiff as a board. Your mind wanders to all the nights spent like this when you were together. How nice it always felt to lay in his arms, comforted and safe. You breathe deeply, inhaling his woodsy scent you've missed all those months.

His breathing has slowed and evened by this point, and you're sure he's fallen back asleep. You do the same just minutes later, unable to resist the invisible pull of your eyelids, shutting them and allowing you to fall asleep once again.

~ ~ ~

You're eyes open and you're met with the bright sunrays coming through your window, making you squint. You feel around behind, the warm body next to you nowhere to be seen, leaving nothing but the cold sheets in his place.

You jump out of bed, scared he may have run off early in the morning. Scrambling, you throw on a hoodie from your floor and hurry out your bedroom door, rushing towards the living room.

You stop in your tracks when you get there, seeing him sitting on your couch, legs crossed over each other on your coffee table.

You stand there another few moments, waiting for him to see you. He turns his body, "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asks, the teasing evident in his voice.

You don't know what to make of all this. He should hate you. He should've left as soon as he felt well enough this morning. You broke his heart for God's sake. You broke his heart into a million pieces, and never even tried to put them back together.

You slowly make your way over to him, sitting beside him on your couch, making sure to leave a safe amount of distance between the two of you.

"Sooo..." you start as he clears his throat. You both laugh, the awkward tension slowly melting.

"You go first," you tell him. You weren't really sure what you were going to say anyway.

"I apologize for last night. From making Changbin call you, to making you take me home, to getting in your bed in the middle of the night. I'm sorry if I crossed boundaries, I mean, I'm sure I did," he looks to you for assurance that it's ok if he keeps going.

You give him a small shoulder shrug. You don't know if he really did cross any boundaries. He obviously didn't make you take him home. If you really didn't want him here, you would've told Changbin yesterday. As persistent as he seemed last night, you know he wouldn't have pushed that hard if you were truly uncomfortable.

"It's ok. I answered the phone call, I brought you here, and I let you in my bed. This goes both ways, and if I wasn't comfortable with it, I wouldn't have let it happen."

His eyes soften at this, his shoulders releasing the visible tension he's been holding there all morning. "Ok, good." He hesitates for a moment, wringing his hands in his lap. "I guess, I just wanna know why, ya know? Why did you end things the way you did?" His eyes meet yours, and it's hard for you to decipher the emotion behind them. Anger, sadness, regret- you're not sure. You're pretty sure they're all present to some degree.

You pretend to think, although you know in your heart you don't have to. You know exactly why you ended; if only you'd let him in on it a little sooner, it probably would've saved him a lot of heartache.

"I was overwhelmed," you pause for a moment, and he nods his head, encouraging you to keep going. "I had so much going on, school was hectic, my job had my head all over the place, and I felt like what I had left to give you just wasn't enough."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, his eyes glued to his hands. "You could've just talked to me about it. I would've understood, and we could've figured it out." His voice comes out weak, like I've struck a nerve that was never meant to be touched, let alone toyed with and tore.

"That was exactly what I was scared of. I really thought that what I was doing was what was best for both of us."

"You don't get to make that call, Y/N," his words come out strong, his eyes finally meeting yours. "I loved you, and I still love you," he scoffs, "Can you believe that? After all the hell you put me through, I still love you." He gets up from the couch and begins to lightly pace in front of the T.V.

He runs hands through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes. Tears well up in yours, and you quickly wipe them before they even get the chance to fall. You don't deserve to cry. You did this to him.

"I'm so sorry," you choke out. "I regret it. I regret it all. I can't imagine how much I hurt you, but I know I did, deeply. I want to make sure you know that it wasn't easy for me, either. I haven't been myself all these months. I stopped going to my classes, and last night was the first night I'd gone out in months."

He stops his pacing, standing right in front of you. He just stares, and your emotions run wild when you can't decipher how he's feeling.

"I'm so sorry," the tears you tried to keep at bay flow freely down your face now, "If I'd have known what it would do to both of us, I would never have done it. It was a stupid, spur of the moment decision, and I felt like I had control. If I had the control, everything would be ok," your words break through your sobs, "but it wasn't ok, and I'm so, so sorry!" Your hands cover your eyes, your head bowing to your knees to hide your grief-stricken face.

He still stands there, in the same spot, just staring. You're too overwhelmed by your own guilt to notice him moving closer to you at a feverish pace.

He rips your hands from your face, pulling your wrist until you're standing in front of him. He forcefully grabs your jaw, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is short, but you've never known such passion could be passed on through a kiss.

All the pent up anxiety and guilt melts between the two of you, your emotions mixing together like sugar and water, dissolving between the two of you until they're one.

He pulls back, his breathing quick. "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

You look at him, shock prominent on your face. "How can you do this?"

His eyes widen, scared he's crossed the line yet again. "What?" he stutters.

"Why don't you hate me? I expected you to yell at me, maybe even call me a few names. Why are you standing in my living room kissing me like all this never happened?"

"I could never hate you," his fingers run along your jaw before settling softly on your cheek. "As much as I’ve wanted to these last few months, just to help myself get over you, I could never. I've been going crazy without you."

"How could you forgive me, just like that?" You're confusion seeps through your tone.

"Because you're perfect. We all make mistakes, and I've had months to deal with this one. Now, knowing why you did it makes it all the easier."

You still just stare at him, almost expecting him to say "Just kidding", laugh in your face, and run out the door.

But he doesn't. He's still standing in front of you, holding your face so gently that you can barely feel his calloused hand, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.

"I know this is a lot, and maybe I'm crazy, but do you want to start over?"

Your confusion becomes more evident, your brows furrowing lightly.

"Let's redo all our firsts. Our first date, our first kiss, our first 'I love you'. I'm willing to move past this if you are."

His eyes are filled with hope, sparkling in the light coming in from the window.

"I don't know Chan..." you trail off, "I'm not sure I can ever forgive myself. I hate what I did to you, and I've hated myself ever since because of it. I don't know how to come to terms with your forgiveness when I don't deserve it."

"We can work through it together. I will be there with you every step of the way. I promise, pinky promise," he's persistent, his pinky reaching out towards yours.

You stare at his hand, remembering how nicely your hands fit together. That's how everything feels with Chan. Your body has always fit perfectly with his, your personalities meshing like nothing you've ever experienced before.

"So what do you say?" your gaze raises until it meets his, and you realize you'll never be able to say no to those eyes. "Will you go on a date with me?" His smile widens, his pearly teeth on full display.

"I think- I think I'd like that a lot."

649 notes · View notes

lady-ashfade · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I saw your requests were open for your event and you asked for more Jace requests so could I please have a vanilla macaron for him? I love your writing, always gets me giggling and blushing a storm - I really like the hybrid reader fics as well, it’s a super cool concept!

࣪✩₊ Scales

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Jacaerys Velaryon x Hybrid!reader

Bakery Event is closed

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Vanilla Macaroons: Headcanons + custom trope.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: real short & sweet, you get to pick the reader’s background,

⤻ you’re literally so sweet! Thank you for the kind words, they mean a lot. I hope it’s okay I made the reader a hybrid.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🥞 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Whether or not you’re blood of the family, found by them, let’s leave that up to you to decide. Hmm?

The only facts: you are with rhaenrya, team black, and that Jacaerys loves you deeply.

Jacaerys loves every feature you have, include the scales in your skin, or slit eyes like a dragon, even your wings.

How similar you act is amusing to him. If you are annoyed or laughing— you huff and it sounds like a dragons. Or the glare you get, how you can’t be controlled when you choose.

Behind closed doors and way from the eye, he spend most of his free time with you. He keeps his feeling mostly under control, but sometimes it slips,

So, when you start to feel a certain way about him, your animal instincts kick in and it’s like both of you are chasing after each others tails.

You meet in the hall on the way to each others chambers, you try and walk behind him to watch over him as he try’s the same. You get more heated then normal when someone questions his opinions in the council meets. He even held you back when you lunged forward.

But when everything came down it it, he made you feel warm and safe. It was unlike anything you ever felt. So you do something your mind tells you.

Knocking at his chambers door you await anxiously which was unlike you, and when he opened the door, he was confused and concerned. You noticed his tired eyes and his night clothes, you felt embarrassed for seeing such a thing.

“Is everything alright? As something happened?” He rushed and panicked of what could have gone wrong and it seemed to wake him up.

“Forgive me, there is nothing wrong. I just wished to see you.”

Once he calms down he blinks and leans on the door slightly, “It’s late at night, you should be in bed..” his words trail on as he steps to the side and a smile grows on his face, “but I am always willing to see you, come in.”

The reason you wanted to speak to him was to give him a token of your affection, something to claim him— something he would expect if he wished.

Something from you, something special.

Tied to a leather string was a hardened color scale, one of your scale that you shed months ago. You wanted him to have a piece of you with him at all times and that people could see.

You know damn well he’s going to except it, not before asking it you’re okay because he was worried you pulled it off, but he is so smitten for you. He puts it on immediately and when you ask if he’ll be yours, he pulls you into a fiery kiss.

Jace rubs the scale when you are away, if he’s stressed, sad or alone, it calms him down. Some of the time he just does it within noticing, like sitting beside you and playing with it. It’s adorable. He also tries to figure out where it fell from.

He is also trying to find something as special to give to you— but he has no scales, or anything but he is searching high and low for anything to show how in love he is with you.

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #Jacaerys Velaryon fluff #Jacaerys Velaryon Headcanon #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader fluff #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #bakery event #house of the dragon fanfic

220 notes · View notes

melon-fodder · 5 months ago

Text

ALWAYS HAVE BEEN • T. HIRAGI

Summary: Hiragi drops in on you unannounced after a fight. Once you patch him up things take an unexpected turn, one you’ve wanted for years.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut, reader is Matsumoto’s sister in some capacity, mentions of fighting, very minor injuries, reader has female anatomy, Hiragi gets dirty in this (bless), fingering, oral (f! receiving), p in v, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, pet names: pretty girl, baby

Note: This got away from me so fast, but it needed to happen. Finally, finally, I have written something more than a drabble for the love of my life 💚 Enjoy~

The bathroom is still full of steam when you step out of the shower, keeping your face damp even after toweling it off. You dry your hair as well as you can, comb some leave-in conditioner through it, then wipe part of the mirror clear to get started on your simple skin care routine. The vent is loud enough to block out any sound from outside, specifically the door to your apartment opening and closing, a voice that would be familiar calling out for your brother. Ignorant of your guest, you just keep humming, rubbing in moisturizer, gliding your jade roller over your face. The tool clatters into the sink when you startle, jumping out of your skin when you hear a deep voice on the other side of the door, “Yo, Matsumoto–” Hiragi, one of your brother’s closest friends and fellow member of Bofurin. Despite not feeling threatened that he’s in your home, your heart rate doesn’t slow down one bit. In fact, it speeds up. “You still have that first-aid kit somewhere?” he calls out, and you rush to wrap a towel around yourself, knotting it securely over your chest, then crack the door to peer up at him. Hiragi’s eyebrows raise high on his forehead, pink dusting his cheeks when he realizes– “Yodai isn’t home right now.” “Shi–I mean, sorry, I’ll leave.” There’s a bruise blooming just beside his left eye, and his bottom lip is split open on one side. You don’t even have to look at his hands to know that his knuckles are bloodied. They stay in a constant state of rawness, similar to your brother’s. “No, it’s fine,” you tell him as he begins to back away. It’s an awkward situation, but, while you would have been mortified a couple years ago, you’re more comfortable with yourself now. Plus, you know for a fact Hiragi would never hurt you. “Give me a second to make myself, ya know, decent,” you gesture vaguely to yourself which makes the man flush even darker and stare at the ceiling, “and then I’ll grab the first-aid kit for ya’.”

Hiragi clears his throat before muttering, “thanks,” then strides back out to the living room, leaving you to skitter across the hall into your bedroom to put some damn clothes on.

You’ve known the Furin boys (men now, you suppose) since high school when Yodai joined. Out of all of them, you’re most familiar with Yanagida, Kaji, and of course, Hiragi, having grown accustomed to them dropping in at all hours, usually after fights but sometimes just to relax. First it had been at your family home, but even when you and your brother moved into your own small, shared apartment, you still found yourself walking into a full house fairly often.

The point is that you’re comfortable with all of them. Even if you’ve been harboring a tiny (massive) crush on Hiragi since the day you met him. It’s fine, though. Everything will be fine. You’ll get him patched up and send him on his way, and nothing will change even though he just saw you in nothing but a towel.

You could have covered up a little better, probably should have, but it’s your apartment, so when you walk back out it’s in a faded metal band t-shirt and a pair of maybe-too-small terry cloth shorts. Whatever.

Hiragi is sitting in the kitchen and straightens up when you walk in, immediately apologizing again until you wave him off.

“It’s fine, I promise. I’ve gotten pretty used to you popping in with no warning,�� you kid.

“I didn’t realize it was… I mean, I texted your brother to give him a heads up.”

“Well, as it happens, he does occasionally do things that aren’t gang-related. Errands, dates…”

Hiragi scoffs as you open one of the high cabinets, something about, “I’d know if Matsumoto was datin’ someone. He’s just blowin’ me off ‘cause I put him to work yesterday–hey!” He’s suddenly on his feet when he notices you swing a leg up on the counter. “Don’t climb that! You’re gonna break your damn neck!”

Pulling you off and away from the oh-so dangerous countertops, Hiragi reaches into the cabinet that is much more accessible to him–god, he’s so tall, deliciously tall–and retrieves the little red box you were aiming for. When he starts for the hallway again you catch him by the wrist and try to lead him back into his chair.

“I can patch myself back up, kid,” he tells you. The name raises your hackles while simultaneously forcing a shiver down your spine. Yodai calls you ‘kiddo’ but he’s allowed, even if you are only a few months younger than him. Hiragi, though… You would really prefer if he was able to see past the whole Matsumoto’s little sister thing.

“Just sit down,” you command more than request. “You have clumsy man fingers. I’ll be able to do a better job.”

And you do, dabbing at the tiny cut on his eyebrow with a cotton ball before carefully applying a butterfly bandage. The bruise on the side of his head doesn’t show any broken skin, so there’s not much you can do there, but you are able to tend to that swollen lip. Hiragi pouts like he isn’t a huge fan of you taking care of him like this, but tough shit. It’s in your nature. Plus, you’ve got far gentler hands. He’d probably find a way to hurt himself even worse, get too rough with a q-tip or something.

It’s quiet for a little while, and you are keenly aware of how close you are to him (another contributing factor as to why you’re doing this? Possibly). You’re bent at the waist while dabbing at his face, and you know your shirt is offering a bit of a view after cutting the collar open years ago in an attempt to give it an edgier look. Hiragi isn’t looking, though, gaze trained upward as he pushes his lip out for you.

“He really out on a date?” he eventually asks, and you smirk. Apparently, he doesn’t handle silence well either.

“Yeah,” you answer, waiting a beat before adding, “with our mom.”

Hiragi tries to smile only for you to squish his cheeks together, poking your tongue out at him when he makes a noise of protest.

You think you’re playing it pretty cool so far–casual and lighthearted. That doesn’t mean you aren’t thinking about how you want to pepper his face with kisses, though. Just get comfortable in his lap, play with the short, bleached hairs at the back of his head. See how much you can tease him before he starts rolling his hips against yours…

“Wha’re you ‘hinkin awout?” Hiragi halfway manages through the grip you have on his face.

You let go of him, realize you’re sucking on your own lip, that your eyelids have gotten heavy with desire, but you pull yourself out of it with a short shake of your head.

“Nothing important.”

“No?” He surprises you by sitting forward, and the sudden motion makes you stumble back just enough to trigger his instincts into reaching out and grabbing you before you can fall over. Hands around your waist (huge, warm hands) Hiragi pins you with jasper eyes. “Nothin’ important?”

You swallow visibly. Audibly. But shake your head again. He’s just doing that thing–that subtle check-in, making sure you’re okay without actually asking. Thinks he scared you earlier or that you’re pissed at him showing up in the first place. It’s not like he’s holding you like this just to fuck with you. Hiragi isn’t the type to do that.

But he also isn’t the type to linger, more of a head-pat or brief one armed hug type of guy. So why are his fingers curling against the hem of your shirt? And why is he lifting his eyebrow like that?

“Not often it’s just you n’ me alone, huh?” he prompts, finally letting his hands drop to his thighs.

“No,” your voice cracks and you swear internally. “No, not since that one time in school when the others ran off without you.” A fight that Yodai took very personally, ignoring his captain when Hiragi had called out to him to slow down, responding only with, “keep my sister safe!” as if he had any right to demand something like that from his higher-up.

But it was Hiragi, so he did in fact stay behind to keep an eye on you while Yodai and Kaji brawled out in the school yard. It was right around that time that your crush on him had really bloomed, so being alone in a room with him… You spent most of the time shaking in the corner, eyes darting back and forth between Hiragi and anywhere else. Of course he noticed, frowning at you in confusion but not willing to ask questions and make you even more uncomfortable.

“You were terrified of me back then,” he chuckles now, showing off sharp teeth that you want to feel against your neck.

You laugh–giggle, really–because, “I was not scared of you.”

“What? You were shakin’ like a leaf. I remember you all curled up in one of the desks.”

“Yeah, but not ‘cause I was scared,” you reiterate. “I had a crush on you, idiot.”

It’s okay if he knows now, just as long as you talk about it like it’s in the past, like you’ve moved on.

Hiragi’s eyes widen, truly surprised. “Wait, for real?”

“For real,” you grin, deciding now is a good time to gather up the used cotton balls and throw them away. Putting a few feet of distance between the two of you is good, helps you take in full breaths. Still, even on the other side of the kitchen you can feel his eyes on you.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

You spin around, not expecting that question at all, and grapple for a believable answer. “M-me? Back then? Are you kidding? I was so… All I did was follow Yodai around like some–”

“Kid sister?” he finishes for you, an amused smile lifting the swollen side of his mouth. “It was cute.”

Your jaw drops, somehow offended and flattered at the same time. “It was weird. Like I didn’t have friends or anything better to do.”

Hiragi shrugs. “You just seemed kinda shy. Innocent. Like I said, it was cute.”

Narrowing your eyes, you know you’re about to say something stupid, but you just can’t help it. “Innocent? And you thought it was cute? You some kind of creep, Ragi?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Depends. You still got that crush on me?”

Yes. “No.” You answer too quickly. Way too quickly. And Hiragi’s eyes shine. Trying to recover, you walk back toward him, doing your absolute best to look unfazed and confident. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter since I’m not all shy and innocent anymore.”

Hiragi stands up, all 187 centimeters of shiny leather and bleached hair looming over you, and you feel your breath hiccup in your throat. Fuck, he’s only gotten hotter over the years, and you’ve only gotten more desperate for him.

“Who said I was still into that sorta thing?”

You know you look ridiculous, gazing up at him with big doe eyes, lips parted, absolutely everything written all over your face, and all that confidence is gone because he’s staring down at you, and he knows. He knows your feelings, knows you want him. Now.

You don’t think; you just do–shoving yourself up on your tiptoes while wrapping your fingers in his shirt, you pull Hiragi toward you, kissing him hard enough to force a grunt from him. He doesn’t hesitate to respond, bending on his own accord while walking you back to the nearest wall and pressing you to it. You breathe through your nose, each inhale full of his cologne and a hint of sweat. The taste of antiseptic barely registers when you swipe your tongue over his lip, overpowered by the remnants of blood.

His body is hot and hard against yours. Not just the bulge pressing into your stomach, but his chest, his abs, the thigh that slides between yours. You can’t help but grind down on it, gasping into his mouth at the same time he mutters a deep, “fuck.”

His hands are under your shirt, squeezing your curves, blunt nails lightly scratching, and he groans when he traces the swell of your bare tits.

Pulling away, Hiragi huffs against your neck, voice like gravel when he tells you, “I’m about to defile you,” so matter-of-fact that it makes you moan out loud.

“Fu–please, want you so bad,” you whine, and it’s pitiful. Pathetic. Nothing cool or casual about you now as you pant for him. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“I know.” He takes your face in both hands, nodding so that his nose bumps into yours. “M’right here, I’ve gotcha.”

Hiragi kisses you again, teeth nipping until you open your mouth for him. The sensation of his tongue against yours has you all but riding his thigh. You know you’ll be leaking through your skimpy underwear if you haven’t already, and your arousal only increases when Hiragi bends to grip you by the thighs, lifting you onto the nearest countertop.

It makes you snicker, “m’gonna break my neck, remember?”

“Tch.” Hiragi kisses down said neck, stopping to bite and suck, hand on your back to feel how it arches for him. “Not gonna let that happen.”

One hand under your shirt, Hiragi uses his other to dance along your leg, higher and higher until he reaches the bottoms of your shorts, loose enough to slip beneath.

“Tell me to stop if you–”

“Don’t stop.”

He laughs, shrugging out of his jacket when you start to push it off his shoulders, and once it’s on the floor his hands are on you again, fingers disappearing under your shorts to stroke over your poorly covered pussy. Hiragi hums in satisfaction, obviously pleased at how wet you are. You expect him to comment on it since he obviously has a bit of smartass in him, but he doesn’t. Instead he drops to his knees and starts tugging at your bottoms.

You can barely process what’s happening. Is he really–are you finally–holy shit, you’ve dreamt of this. His face between your legs, tongue lapping at your slick, a finger slowly sinking into your wanton cunt.

“Ohh, fuck, fuck…”

You feel the points of his teeth graze your puffy folds, sharp and teasing before he wraps his lips around your swelling clit and sucks.

The noise you let out is embarrassing, high-pitched and uncontrolled. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, softer than expected. Must’ve switched from gel to something else. The thought makes you laugh a little hysterically. Here he is, Toma Hiragi, eating your pussy like it’s his job, and you’re thinking about his hair. He shuts you up with a second finger, though, both of them bent to rub against your g-spot, and you whimper as pressure begins to build between your hips.

It feels so good. He feels so fucking good, licking and slurping and fucking you with his fingers, but you want more, you– “Ragi, please, fuck, I want… I need…”

One long lick to the crest of your pussy then he asks, “what do you need?” only to return to sucking on your clit again, stealing your breath away for just a moment. “Tell me, come on, pretty girl, use your words.”

“I–” Pretty girl. “I—” his fingers are still moving inside you, making your head loll back and hit the cabinets behind you. “I–fuck, need to feel you.”

He stands, still not pulling his fingers from you, and he uses his thumb to circle your clit as he leans into your space and teases, “need me? I’m right here.”

Your eyes roll behind fluttering lids, lips pulling down into a pout that he promptly covers with his own, messy mouth. He’s overwhelming, fingers moving perfectly, milking slick from you with every stroke of your g-spot, and fuck, the way he’s kissing you, how he’s touching you, how he’s teasing you with a soft, “yeah, baby? Can’t even talk, huh? Feel that good?” He’s filthy. Hiragi is so much dirtier than you imagined, and you have imagined a lot when it comes to him.

“Fuck me, please please please, Ragi, wanna feel your cock,” you babble, tears pricking the corners of your eyes because it’s so much, and you’re ready to cum, but there’s something missing. You need to feel all of him first.

The clinking of his belt draws your hazy eyes downward, and you salivate when he pushes his pants down and his cock springs free–long enough to make you shudder with anticipation, thick enough to make you pulse with need, and hard enough to make you preen. You did that to him. You’re doing this to him. You’re the reason for that shiny bead of pre glistening at his slit.

You want to lick it clean, fuck, you want to suck him off, swallow him down, feel him in your stomach. You want him to cum down your throat and fill you up and–

“You look like you wanna eat me,” he says. For a guy with a split lip, he sure is smirking a lot. Doesn’t that sting?

“I wanna do a lot of things to you, Hiragi, but first…” you reach down with a trembling hand, fingers wrapping around his smooth shaft, “I want you to fuck me.”

Growling, he pulls you to the very edge of the counter, conveniently the perfect height for him to line himself up with you. He rubs his tip between your sloppy lips, slapping it against your clit a couple times and sucking your gasp straight from your lips when he kisses you.

You squeal when he starts to push inside you, his thick head already stretching you, but he murmurs, “I’ll go slow,” into your mouth. His voice is shakier than before, strained while he stays true to his word. Skilled fingers rub your clit, massaging it while sinking deeper into you. The stretch is, fuck, it’s perfection. It twinges in the most delicious way, his cock steadily bullying your walls, making way for itself like it belongs there. The stretch and the sounds and his fingers on your swollen bud all have your toes curling and back bowing.

“O-oh, Jesus, Ragi, I’m–m’gonna…”

“Come on, show me how pretty you look when you cum,” he grunts, bottoming out just in time for your pussy to start spasming, clenching over and over as you make a mess all over him. “Yeah, just like that, look at you creamin’ on my cock–you gonna squirt too?” He starts swiping over your clit faster than before, pulling out and fucking back into you as you ride out your orgasm, your sopping hole opening up for him even more as you– “there it is, god damn, such a pretty pussy. You always this messy, or s’it just for me?”

You can’t speak. Hiragi keeps fucking squirt out of you, hips relentless, just like his fingers on your clit, and before you know it he’s forcing another full-body orgasm out of you.

You didn’t know it would be this good. Didn’t know it could be this good. You’ve had sex with a few other guys, and some had even managed to get you off, but not like this. This is something else entirely.

Much to your dismay, Hiragi begins to slow, and it’s only when you open bleary eyes that you notice the tears streaming down your face. For the first time since he got to the apartment and almost walked in on you, he looks concerned.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asks, a calloused thumb wiping your wet cheek.

You shake your head, legs wrapping around his waist to urge him deeper. “No, no, you just, mm, you feel so good.”

He bites his lip, thrusting a little faster again, little harder, groans that you, “feel fuckin’ perfect, baby. Think your pussy was made for me.”

Your words are broken and breathy as you agree with him, “it was–all yours, Ragi, I’m all yours…” too high off endorphins and overwhelmed with pleasure to even recognize what you’re admitting to.

“Yeah?” he slows again, but the way he’s burying himself inside of you is making you drool. “Always been my girl, haven’t ya’?

You nod, and he catches you in another brain-addling kiss, breathing a barely coherent, “yours, too. Been yours since day one.”

You lock your arms around his neck, pulling him impossible closer, and when his hips start to stutter you press your mouth to his, swallowing his low groan as he spills his load inside of you. The kiss is sweeter than all the others before, tongues lazy and clumsy as he uses you to milk himself dry, and once both of you are entirely spent, your lips stay molded together, hot and insistent, saying everything that has yet to be said out loud.

“You meant it?” he asks quietly, that sinful tone gone from his voice, replaced with something much softer. “You’re still my girl?”

You sigh dramatically and nuzzle into his neck. “Always have been, probably always will be.”

Face in your hair, Hiragi chuckles, “don’t sound so embarrassed.”

“It is embarrassing. Been pining after you for years.”

“At least you weren’t the one chasin’ after your friend’s little sister.”

Lifting your head, you regard him with a raised eyebrow, “speaking of, what are you gonna tell Yodai?”

He shrugs, the picture of nonchalant despite still being balls deep inside of you. “I’ll be respectful, but in the end I’m still his superior.”

“The Furin hierarchy still stands when it comes to fucking sisters?” you laugh.

“If it means I can be with you without catchin’ any bullshit for it, absolutely.” He punctuates it with a peck to your forehead then looks down between the two of you. “We should probably, uh…”

“Get cleaned up before it’s too late?”

“Exactly. Otherwise–”

Keys turn in the lock. The front door opens.

You look at Hiragi with wide eyes as he turns red from his neck to his hairline.

“Wait right there, Yodai!” you call out frantically, fighting a whimper when Hiragi pulls out a little too quickly.

There isn’t enough time, though, not for him to zip himself back in his pants and definitely not enough for you to pull yours back on.

Yodai rounds the corner, takes in the scene, then turns right back around while shouting, “the kitchen counter? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

Do not copy, modify, or repost my work. I do not consent to my writing being used for AI.

#wind breaker x reader #windbre x reader #wind breaker smut #hiragi toma x reader #hiragi x reader

284 notes · View notes

kurokens · 6 months ago

Text

In The Night I Miss You | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 1.5k

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: sorry for the wait!!! but part 2 of In The Middle, my first satosugu piece, is finally here! a little bit more angsty this time and from satosugu's pov

not proof read

song rec: The Night I Miss You - Lee Changsub

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious, insecure and self conscious reader

Satoru and Suguru were quite the pair, always together since they can remember, as if fate created them for each other. Two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. They knew that, hell, everyone around them and their mother knew that. And yet, they both felt like something was missing, they spent years happily loving each others, and they never stopped, but they couldn't help but feel some kind of longing for something more.

At first it drove them crazy, how could they feel like that when they already had everything they ever dreamed of? They're both each others soulmate, and yet it's not enough, not anymore, not since they met you. You came and wrecked their perfect little world. You and your stupid smile, you and your stupid laugh, you and your stupid kindness, you and your stupid gentleness, just you and your stupid self. It was such a hard time for them to accept these feelings, especially with the growing guilt towards each others, clueless about the other similar torment. Until one day, the cat got out of the bag. "Say sugu..." The white-haired man started softly, a gentle hum coming back from his lover. "Are you satisfied? I mean, with us? Our couple?"

"Why? Yes, of course. Is something the matter? Have I done anything to make you think otherwise?" Suguru exhaled through a trembling breath.

"No, god no. It's just, god, how do I say this without sounding selfish. Have you ever felt like something was missing?" Satoru breathed out, closing his eyes in shame.

"You mean, like someone?" The black-haired man whispered shakily causin Gojo to spring up from his previous position, biwildered eyes meeting the ones he was ashamed to look at earlier.

"I didn't, I didn't say that, I mean not exactly, but, but maybe? Do you?" He murmured, a glint of hope in his orbs.

"Do you?" Suguru asked, just as hopeful.

"Yes, god, yes. I'm so sorry Sugu, I love you, I do, I promise. Like I've never loved anyone, but lately I've felt this way and I don't know why, and I didn't know how to tell you. Please tell me you do too. I can see it in your eyes, you do too right?" Satoru begged, his hands now clamped on the sheets below him.

"Yes, I do. God I was so scared to tell you, I'm so glad you feel it too. Oh, I'm so glad." Geto let out, his breathing calming down as well as his nerves. "You're thinking about someone in particular are you not?" He continued, reaching out to take Gojo's hands in his, easing down his stress.

"Yes..." He answered, tightening his grip around Geto's hands. "Do you?" Only receiving a nod along with the brightest smile he's ever seen his lover give him. "It's them, right?" Another nod came his way, just as he was pulled into a hug. "I'm so glad you feel the same. I was so scared. I thought I would lose you if I said anything, I don't want to lose you." He sobbed, finally letting out all the repressed feelings he's been having for the past couple of days.

Suguru stayed quiet, nuzzling his head into his lover's neck, grateful for the conversation, but also for the fact that they both felt the same. Of course the universe wouldn't betray them like that. They were soulmates, and it was destiny for both of them to fall for you, and maybe it was how it was always meant to be, not just them, but the three of you. And Suguru was more than content with this idea, he wished nothing more but to be able to share this overwhelming love with you as well. But he knew it would take time, it's not something they could act on just like that. They needed to proceed slowly, they didn't want to scare you, let alone lose you. Hell, losing you would shatter them, they could handle rejection just fine, but not having you in their life anymore just wasn't possible.

That's why Suguru had to physically stop Satoru from screwing this up. It was quite hard for the white-haired man child to refrain himself from acting on his desire to confess to you, and make you theirs. Since you lived with them, seeing you everyday and not being able to love you like he truly did, was the worst hardship he ever had to face. He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, so having to wait for you to be theirs was proper torture. Don't get him wrong, it was also very hard for Suguru, but he knew they had to do this properly, and one of them had to be strong, because Satoru sure wasn't going to be. And because of that they would regularly have the same conversation in their room late at night, or early in the morning because it's when they were yearning for you the most. In the comfort of their bed.

"I dont know for how much longer I can do this Sugu..." Satoru sighed, burying his head in his lover's chest, muffling his next words. "They're so pretty, and so nice, and so caring, I love them so much. I would give anything to crush them between us right now."

"Me neither love, but there is nothing much we can do about it.They live with us." His black haired lover replied, laughing at his antics.

"I know, ugh I know, but it's getting so much harder everyday. Seeing them is becoming unbearable. I can't stand it anymore, we need to do something." He went on, on the verge of throwing a tantrum because of how much he yearned for you.

"Shh, I know, I feel the same. But we can't just drop this on them all of the sudden and expect it to go well." The oldest reasoned. "We will get there, we just need to take things slow Toru, we can't rush them into something like that."

And he was right, Satoru knew he was right, but it's been weeks and nothing changed. They tried being more affectionate towards you, complimenting you, being a little bit touchier and clingier without crossing any boundaries. Hell, they were looking at you so lovingly you could compare them to teenage boys going through their first ever crush. And yet, nothing changed, you were so clueless, it was driving them insane, but at the same time it was so endearing how oblivious you were to their adoration.

Everyone around you three noticed it, but you. It was quite amusing for your friends, but it was proper torture to them. And Satoru was growing reckless, he could'nt look at you in the eyes anymore, scared he will do something on impulse and regret it later because it could jeopardise your relationship, and your potential future together. Suguru wasn't much better to be fair, he could still look at you, but it was getting harder, and he couldn't bring himself to say anything to you that wasn't a heartfelt confession about their undying love for you, and his need to make you part of their life. So they decided to ton it down a bit, grow some distance between you, just the time for them to get themselves together, and to elaborate the perfect plan to confess to you properly without forcing you into anything. Yes, that was a good plan, or so they thought. Not once have they ever imagined this plan of action could backfire. Because why would it? It was the perfect plan!! Just until it wasn't.

After some time of putting distance between you, (literally a single day, Satoru couldn't more), the couple deciding to put their plan back into action but with a bit more hints being thrown into it. But, unfortunately for them, when they came back from work, the house was oddly silent, not a trace of you to be seen. "Sweetcheek?" Satoru called, walking towards your room, only to be met by complete silence. "Hey gorgeous, you in there?" He knocked, but once again silence was his only answer. So he opened the door, to see if maybe you were sleeping, but you weren't. Your bed was made, but something was off. Your room was clean but it felt like something was missing.

"Sugu, come here real quick." He urged, and Suguru footsteps were quickly heard. "Something isn't right."

They both stood at the entrance of your room, analysing everything, trying to find what was amiss, this odd feeling growing stronger and stronger. And then they spot it, a letter neatly placed on your desk, which read:

'The walls are thins here you know. Anyway don't worry I'll be out of your space soon. Sorry about the stuff I've left there, it's just for the time it takes for me to look for a new place and then I will give you back your much needed space. Thank you for letting me stay this long, and sorry for the trouble I've caused.'

The couple grew livid. Their worst fear became reality, and they didn't know how to fix it, but they knew they had to. And the sooner, the better.

part 3 is out, find it here!!

#saturn's writing #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu poly #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #gojo satoru x geto suguru x reader

271 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 21 days ago

Text

the season of us

phd!eren x f!reader

**part of my canary mate fic

previous part linked here

Follow Up: Gabi Braun Hello Y/N, I hope you’re having a great week! Just letting you know that Gabi and I had a great meeting last week. We’re going to start processing her paperwork and everything. She seems like a very sweet girl. She spoke very highly of you and all of the hard work you do. I can’t wait to hear all about it when you come home in a few weeks! Love, Pieck

“so do you always have such a shit look on your face or is today something special?”

you nearly jump at the sound of eren’s voice, not having noted when it was that he sat in the car. you had taken the free time to open your emails, the one from pieck standing particularly out between the usual mix of promotions and comments that levi left on your documents.

you note that eren’s wearing his glasses again today and that much to nanaba’s delight, he’s freshly cut his hair to avoid man bun status all together.

“you got a haircut.” you state.

“you’re wearing a green sweater.” eren responds, mimicking the tone in your voice.

“what?”

“i thought we were both just stating random facts.” eren deadpans.

that was one way to start the day.

you roll your eyes, peeking over your shoulder as you pull out of his driveway. in your peripheral vision, you can see that eren immediately reaches for the aux cord hanging in between the seats and plugs in his phone.

“i mean. you had to know that i was making a comment about your haircut. that you got in between the time we last saw each other.”

“a comment would be something objective. like, eren i love your haircut, you look so handsome. you just simply stated that i got a haircut, which is a fact. which i am obviously aware of. since you know, i was the one who got the haircut and all.”

you sigh.

“i don’t understand how you have this much energy to fight before you get coffee in your system.” you mumble.

“you bring out a special irritation in me. you should be flattered.” eren responds.

you scoff.

“oh trust me, i am. it’s my true honor to haul you around in my car and have you sass me every morning.”

eren doesn’t take the bait and the two of you continue to drive down the street in silence. it’s often quiet that way, nothing filling the air between the two of you except for the music. which at the current moment wasn’t filling the awkward air at all.

you peer over to the passenger seat at the red light to see eren scrolling through a playlist. you’re not sure if your eyes deceive you, but in the blur, you swear that the name of the playlist is your name. something that looks eerily similar to the shape of your name.

you swear you’re imagining it. and against your better judgment – and something you’re positive you will most definitely get teased for even mentioning – you ask him if it’s true.

“is the name of your playlist my name?” you ask.

no. the name of his playlist is obviously not your name.

eren looks over at you, green eyes almost bored, as he answers.

“yes.”

he responds like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. that his simple response warrants why your name would be in his playlist, like it’s something as casual as what the weather's like today or how far the two of you are from the coffee shop. eren scrolls towards the middle of the playlist and starts playing the song.

The Song for My Brother - Nam Hye Seung, Park Sang Hee

“why is your playlist name my name?” you ask.

“because we agreed that it was going to be my turn to play music today.” eren states.

you glare at him.

“you’re acting like that explains why you have a playlist that has my name as the title.”

“yeah. we agreed that we were going to play movie scores for each other since we both liked them.”

“did that warrant you making an entire playlist? with my name on it?” you ask.

“i’m trying to put you on good scores. i can’t go repeating them and they all depend on the mood. don’t go taking it personally or anything.”

you roll your eyes.

“does it count as putting on when i already know the score? everyone’s watched crash landing on you, you dumbass. besides, this isn’t even the best one from the show.”

eren looks over at you, almost intrigued.

“you watched crash landing on you?” eren asks.

“i’m more shocked that you did.”

“and what is it that you thought that i watched?” eren asks.

you shrug.

“baby sacrifice rituals. joe rogan. the antichrist.” you offer.

you think your eyes deceive you again, that eren’s trying to fight off a smile. then again, your original instinct was correct.

“no, those are part of my morning mantras. i watched the show with my mom and my sister.”

you laugh in response.

“what do you think the best one is from the show?” eren follows up.

“same sky, different world.”

“wrong. it’s picnic.”

you shake your head.

“picnic is a classic because it does have the hints of the main title in it so it feels nostalgic. i like the violin. but same sky, different world is too perfect tone wise for what’s happening at the end of the show. it gives the last scenes of the show an entirely different air. because they are under the same sky but in different worlds.”

eren smiles. almost too brightly and you’re convinced that he’s taunting you.

“so you really are into scores?” eren asks.

“did you think i was just saying that when i mentioned it yesterday?”

“i mean, a little bit. the only other person i know who listens to them as seriously as me is my little sister, karina. she plays the cello too.”

you scoff.

“i’ll be making a counter playlist for tomorrow since you’re getting so competitive about this entire thing, which in hindsight i should have realized would happen. now, get out and go get the coffee.” you respond.

in the three minutes that eren leaves, you get a notification on your phone.

[busstopbilly]: I am finding myself in dangerous territory.

[lizontopoftheworld]: The K during rush hour?

[busstopbilly]: Ew, I would never go over there. If I wanted overpriced food, I’d at least go somewhere where the food is edible.

[busstopbilly]: No. I’m in dangerous wallflower territory.

[lizontopoftheworld]: YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[lizontopoftheworld]: don’t you have like horrendous foot in mouth syndrome when it comes to her? what was it you did last time?

[busstopbilly]: I told her that her friend’s boyfriend, well now he’s her fianceé, was too loud or something like that. I am ninety percent she told them and that I won’t be invited to the wedding, but that’s not a big deal.

[busstopbilly]: Let’s just say that I did something that could be perceived as weird. And I didn’t think that it would be weird, because now she knows that I thought about her. At length?

[lizontopoftheworld]: you sound like a murderer

[busstopbilly]: Is this how perverts feel?

[lizontopoftheworld]: I ALMOST CHOKED ON MY SPIT

[busstopbilly]: I’m glad you find my torment so amusing.

[lizontopoftheworld]: RELAXXXXXXX

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’re so melodramatic. i’m sure she didn’t think much of it. and even if she did…why don’t u just go for it :D

[busstopbilly]: You can choke.

[lizontopoftheworld]: OH MY GODDDDDD

[lizontopoftheworld]: you said she was pretty

[busstopbilly]: And that’s relevant why?

[busstopbilly]: i just need you to assuage the fact that I’m not a creep so that I can use it to move on through my day.

[lizontopoftheworld]: does my endorsement mean that much :)

[busstopbilly]: Obviously.

[busstopbilly]: Your opinion is the only one that matters to me, pretty girl.

[lizontopoftheworld]: bro can u relax its like eight in the morning

[lizontopoftheworld]: u have my seal of approval that u are not a creep. or a pervert? NOW MOVE HENCEFORTH THROUGH UR DAY

[busstopbilly]: Thanks, Liz.

eren returns after two minutes, with both of your coffees in hand. you shoot him a grateful smile as you stick yours into the cupholder and make your way towards the hospital.

“hey. can i talk to you in the fishbowl?”

you look over the top of the divider to find gabi peering over the top, eyes expectant as she waits for an answer.

red eyes and messy hair.

you give her a nod, picking up your laptop and walking down the length of the hall with her.

“everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah. i just had a question that i wanted to ask you. with people not around.”

“okay, sure.”

you swing open the doors of the glass conference room and plop down at the end of the wooden table. gabi looks over her shoulder before talking, double checking the door is closed, before she turns back to you and gives you an awkward smile. your first instinct is to make a note – that this something that you most definitely have to interrogate falco about later.

“are you about to confess that you committed a murder to me?” you ask.

“what? no!”

“you’re just particularly flighty. whispering, looking over your shoulder. are you sure everything is okay?”

gabi slouches down into her chair.

“no, no that’s partially what i wanted to talk to you about.” gabi starts.

you can tell that she’s fumbling words together. that she hasn’t thought about this entire thing that deeply, only because it’s very clear to you that she’s exactly like you – that when she has to say something important, it’s rehearsed in her head four times before it actually counts.

that much is obvious from the way that she talks in the meetings. talking about papers, about her proposals – the order of the words are almost identical to what she had written, which to you, was a sign that she had almost memorized them, rehearsed them over and over again to make sure that they were perfect.

you wonder if she found conversations as difficult as you sometimes. that when they weren’t rehearsed, they were almost impossible to control.

eren did mention that you had a rather unconfident way of talking.

“thank you for connecting me with your sister. she’s very sweet and she’s been really helpful.”

you shoot her a smile.

“i’m glad that she could help. is everything going all right with that?”

“yes. yes, we just submitted all of our forms to get an appointment and everything. there’s just a problem.”

“which is?”

“do you remember when….when you offered me the help and you talked about how hard it is to juggle this thing with everything else? you said that it could be a lot at times?”

you nod.

“i do remember that. what about it?”

gabi’s voice sounds strained when it comes out.

“did you mean it? was it really that hard for you too?”

you can’t help but deflate at the sound of her voice. at what she’s asking you.

was it as hard for you as it is for me right now?

“yes. i did mean it. in every sense of the thing. that type of thing is hard, hard at any portion of your life, but especially when you’re trying to figure out your own thing and what it is that you like to do.” you respond.

gabi’s face melts.

“really hard.” she affirms.

“do you want to tell me what part of it is hard right now? just so that i can see if i can help you?”

you’re not sure what it is, but the mere question sends a flood storm of words babbling out of gabi’s mouth. it’s hard to keep track but certain things stick out more than others.

“i just don’t know what to do because i have to help my mom translate most of the forms. then i get so irritated that i end up doing the entire thing by myself when i’m supposed to be reading all the papers that eren gave me for our abstract. falco’s having the time of his life chatting with everyone and he always invites me to come out to talk about stuff with mikasa and jean, but i can never come because i’m so busy. and this is one summer! one summer where i’m supposed to just be doing research to figure out if i like this. and then…and then i feel guilty. why am i complaining when they did so much for me? i want to help them, i desperately do, but i can’t help but feel like i’m missing out on something here. i want so bad to go to the conference with all of you in marley, but i don’t know if i can pay for transportation. when am i going to get this much time alone again with falco?”

gabi’s eyes widen at the last part, coupled with a pink flush that creeps up her neck. you so desperately wished that you could sick it to eren – that you knew for a fact that falco and gabi weren’t just being friendly.

you wonder why that’s the first thing that you thought of. and choose to ignore it to pick your words carefully.

“i’m garnering that…transportation is the issue here?”

you choose to save her from the embarrassment of pointing out what she said – especially when it’s very clearly something that she does not want to discuss.

gabi shoots you a grateful smile.

“i dropped three grand on sending in the applications for the stuff with my family. pieck told me that i’d probably have to spend more down the line. i know this is a great opportunity but i can also just present at the conference at the end of the fellowship and go off of that.”

you shake your head.

“i’m going to drive in my car. i’m pretty sure that freeloader falco is going to ask if he can join me in a few weeks. did you want to come with us?”

gabi gives you a tired smile.

“i can’t impose. that’s a lot of gas money.”

“that’s a non-issue. i would love to have you there when the four of us all present our work together. granted, i’m sure that eren’s going to blab the entire time and let none of us get a word in because that’s just who he is, but still. it would be a great place for you to network and see how things work. plus, at the undergrad level, it’s kind of a who can show off more contest.”

gabi groans.

“ugh. don’t say that.”

“granted, some of that doesn’t go away when you become a grad student. just think about the fall social. levi fully instructs me to go brag so that i can make him look good. but for the most part, it is people who are interested in that type of thing.”

you sigh.

“it’s really hard to grapple with what to prioritize. i love my family more than anyone else, but you also have to not give up things that are really important to you. that…that can make you harbor a lot of resentment. and i don’t want you to be resentful towards your family because, it’s such a hard and complicated thing to grapple with.”

“yeah.” gabi responds.

“it’s not supposed to be your job. but it is. you want something entirely different, but your family is what you’re strapped with – good and bad.” you add.

you sigh.

“you wouldn’t be imposing if you came with me. i hate to drive long distances, so you can even take over for a little bit. i refuse to let falco drive my car so it would kind of work out perfectly. but think about it. i’d at least like to be able to help with some part of everything you rambled about. the part i can actually help with it.”

gabi gives you a halfhearted smile.

“you don’t have to make up stuff to feel like i’m giving you something back.”

you smile back.

“i wouldn’t do that. and i know that you know for a fact that i’m not kidding about falco’s driving since you basically risk your life everyday when you try to get here.”

gabi smiles.

“don’t even get me started.”

“you don’t get me started.”

gabi takes a pause.

“you…you won’t tell him what i said earlier right?”

“i’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

gabi sighs a breath of relief.

“god, falco’s right. you kind of are the best.”

eren notes that he’s in a particularly bad mood when he leaves the feedback on the abstracts that levi asked him to review. this point is only made apparent to him when he sees you at focus group afterwards, the expression in your face cueing him into the fact that he’s about to get an angry lecturer.

“did you really feel the need to leave a comment on every single line of the abstract i wrote?”

“i didn’t write a comment on every single line.” eren retorts.

he shouldn’t be so quick to talk back. to respond with the first thing that comes to his head.

“oh sorry. you left the line where i wrote my name blank. that’s awful kind of you.” you deadpan, as you slam hard on the button of the elevator.

the elevator whirrs up, quietly whining in the background, as eren huffs a sigh.

“i fixed your entire algorithm, that was entirely dogshit by the way, without saying anything snarky. you could have done the same.” you respond.

and that was exactly the problem. that you had rewritten his algorithm perfectly, so perfectly that he couldn’t find a mistake or rectify the new issue that they had at hand.

“would it kill you to get a spell checker? did you get your bachelors degree from a cereal box?” eren asks.

you roll your eyes.

“quit being so patronizing, eren. not all of us are afforded the privilege of writing in our first language.”

eren has no response for that. only because he feels horrible

“did you run the numbers?” eren asks.

“what?”

“did you run the algorithm after the fact? after you fixed it.” eren asks.

you shake your head, following directly after eren as he basically darts out of the door of the elevator the second that it opens. he smacks his password onto the free computer quickly, offering quick smiles to the people that wave as they walk past, and pulls up the code that you had fixed earlier that day.

eren runs play on the code and you instantly detect the problem.

three steady lines and one that doesn’t even take off.

“what the hell? what happened there?” you ask.

“colt’s not meeting the mark. well technically, he’s not even moving past the starting line.”

the algorithm is supposed to be simple. training against itself to see if there’s a significant amount of progress that can be simulated for future sessions. and for three of them, that much was true, even promixing.

but for one person, it’s staggeringly bleak.

you reach for the closest chair, rolling it up next to where eren’s sitting, and reach for the mouse. eren can tell that what you’re going to do next – that you’re going to read every line of your code obsessively, to see if you can find a mistake as to why colt wasn’t responding to the stimulation therapy at all.

eren only knows that because he tried it himself hours before.

“that can’t be.” you murmur.

“it is.”

you click back to the tab with the windows, the color coding of your graph pissing you off entirely. three yellow lines – signaling good progress – and one that was bright red.

noting your complete failure.

“so what are we doing to do?” you ask.

“if colt doesn’t pass the round that we give him this week, he’s going to be excluded from the group.” eren murmurs.

“what?”

“it’s part of the ethics guideline that we wrote. that would technically be the third time that he gets stimulated unnecessarily and we…we can’t just keep doing it when it’s something that has more risks than harms.”

you scoff.

“more risks than harms? there’s quite literally nothing else that he can do in his condition.”

“i know that. but technically, we could push things over the edge. make them worse and i would hate to do that.”

eren shrugs.

“i didn’t mean to be harsh on your abstract. it was fine, i just…already ran the numbers and was prematurely upset about it.” eren asks.

you give him a halfhearted nod, as you stare back at the line.

“i thought your concern with falco was that he was going to get too emotionally involved. you don’t seem to be taking it so well.”

eren pinches his lips into a line.

“you’re seeming very passionate about it as well.”

“well, that’s the difference between me and you. i wear my heart on my sleeve and you pretend like you don’t have one.” you respond, pushing up out of the chair as you read through the charts that have been stacked at the check in station.

eren makes a quick observation. that every time he’s argued with you, it’s because he’s already been in a bad mood before.

he’s quick to follow suit at your side, noting that your eyes are glued on colt’s chart, razor focused on the notes that floch had left earlier in the day regarding his status. eren can see bright red hair turning down the hallway as eren reaches forward and shakes hard on your shoulder.

you get his hint and follow eren down the length of the hall to the the room of the focus group. only to be met by the most crushing sight, and quiet possibly, the only one that fills you with enough determination to get it right when you do the stimulation therapy next week.

at the sight of colt finally laughing with everyone else in the focus group.

an: eep! we enter the scores part of the fic. anyways, for those of you who wonder, these were the scores that were mentiond in this chapter and some of my favorites from crash landing on you: the song for my brother, picnic, and the story of us! I can't wait to share more eep

taglist: @invisible-mori @multiplefandomthings @chericos @wheredidmycrowngo @chaoticpxnda @aizzon @stuffeddeer @butterfly-skinnylegend @najaemism @hellokitty-doll @constanciandrea @iblamesusy @jaegersdiary @f4irygard3n @misadear @fell-4-u @coyloves @sobbangchan @you-always-made-me-blush @th0tformikasa @yell0wdreams @itzmeme @elliesbabygirl @miniaturemartian @differentrunawayperson @k0z3me @stroberiz @stillnotherapy @cherryredribbons @bsenpai @cacapeepee

90 notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 7 days ago

Text

The RainIII(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Hero!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, daddy kink, size kink, Toshinori in his All Might form, Reader is given a hero name(feel free to ignore if you don't want to imagine yourself as this hero), Reader is All Might's former mentee, established relationship, vaginal fingering, quickies, semi-public sex

word count: 1.8k

pairings: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Hero!Reader

summary: you see him at an award ceremony and you both try your best to keep your feelings under wraps. you and him have a very risky quickie.

a/n: Read part one and part two to understand the plot!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi. @cherryblossombankai , @thestarsystemsworld, @pixelcafe-network

The way he looks at you, you swear you’re about to combust. He rarely gives you this kind of look when you’re in public. Especially not while he’s out accepting an award. You look at him with a similar look. It’s the kind of look that says, “I’m going to fuck your brains out when we get home." The only issue is that the public doesn’t know that you two are together yet.

He’s so graceful with everything too. You’ve long admired this man for ages. He was your mentor; he helped you become the hero you are today. How many of these people know of his sacrifices to keep them safe? Do they know about his injury that has left him incapable of keeping his form for very long?

Or are your eyes the only ones who get to see the beautiful Toshinori Yagi in the way he’s meant to be looked at?

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without my supporters, fans, and of course, my wonderful colleagues! I am your Symbol of Peace, but please trust me when I say that a hero is nothing without his fellow heroes.”

The crowd erupts in cheers. You smile as you look at him from your spot on the side of the stage. Your hero costume feels heavy on your body. Toshinori seems to be really enjoying seeing you in it. It’s been a while since he’s seen you up close in your hero costume. And he just keeps giving you that look, in such a sly way too.

He answers a few questions, and your heart races in your chest when he’s asked about his love life. He doesn’t dare look at you this time. You had both decided to wait to make this official in the public eye. He just laughs heartily as always.

“There may be someone in my life who I’ve always admired, but I can’t give any more details than that.”

The crowd begins speculating. You love the way they eat up every single word he says. You watch as a few other heroes step up to the podium to answer some questions as well. As per usual, you do not miss the way Endeavor glares at your lover.

Trying to sneak off backstage, you’re stopped by Mt. Lady. She smirks at you, clearly wanting to share some juicy gossip with you. You follow her towards the small sitting area rustled up for heroes who weren’t going to be interviewed during this award ceremony.

“Did you hear that?! All Might has a lover!” She says, her eyes wide.

You laugh, “I sure did. I wonder though... someone he’s admired for a long time...”

She begins talking your ear off, trying to think of the right person that fits the bill. You wish you could tell her the truth, but you promised you wouldn’t say anything to any of your colleagues. It would be something you both do together as a couple.

“I mean, I think he had something with Sir Nighteye.” This makes you laugh.

“Oh definitely,” you nod your head. “Those two were as thick as thieves. They were probably in a secret relationship.”

This was something you had been thinking about lately. Who were the people that Toshinori had dated before you? You weren’t jealous. In fact, you were more than curious. You tried to pry the information out of your lover, but you never had a good chance to do so.

“A secret relationship? That sounds like All Might.” Yu chatted with you. She seemed to be even more interested in the subject than you previously thought.

“Of course. It’s totally him. That man keeps everything private.”

Then she turns to look at you, and she notices the way you’re smirking. "Hey, he did give you quite the look during his speech.”

Your heart drops, and you try to laugh it off. She smirks, but her attention is thankfully taken off of you when Shinji Nishiya walks into the backstage area. You knew those two had a decently close relationship when Mt. Lady ruined Kamui Woods debut as a hero.

“Hey Shinji! Do you think All Might is in a secret relationship? We think he was together with Sir Nighteye…”

The two of them gossip while you watch the line of pro heroes coming to the backstage area. You’re waiting for him, of course. He’d probably be one of the last ones to enter the backstage area. You try not to make it obvious that you are indeed waiting for All Might considering you think Mt. Lady might think you two are seeing each other.

He enters the area, giving you a ‘blink-and-you’ll-miss-it’ type of look. You try to busy yourself with talking to the other pro heroes, but you desperately want to go home with the man of the hour. This is when you catch the angry look of Enji Todoroki, and you’re so quick to avert your gaze.

The rain begins to fall on the tent you’re all sitting in. It was supposed to be an award ceremony and a glorified mingling session for the pro heroes, but with the rain coming down, people were starting to want to head to dryer places to be able to mingle. You try to keep an eye on your lover while still trying to maintain a comfortable distance.

“Say,” Yu leans in to talk to you once more. “Want to come to the restaurant with a few of us?”

You shrug, “Yeah! Sounds like fun. Wanna give me some time to get into something more suited for the restaurant?”

“Sure thing! Let’s meet outside of the restaurant in an hour.”

You agree on the time and place, then you’re making your way out of the tent. After a few minutes, you feel someone following you. When you peek behind yourself and see your lover, your heart begins racing. He winks at you and nods. You know better than to immediately go to him while the press is still around.

This ends up with the two of you finding shelter in a makeshift tent nearby for the camera and electrical equipment. You’re both a little damp from the rainfall. It only made things between you both even hotter.

Toshinori looks at you like he wants to devour you. He knows he’ll have more time to take you later, but right now he needs something quick. The man growls as he picks you up and begins kissing you hungrily. His tongue penetrates your mouth, wrestling and tangling with yours.

You hold onto him, loving the way the spandex of his suit was clinging to his muscles right now. The rain had only done you favors, really. Toshinori smirks when he pulls away from the kiss.

“We gotta make this quick,” you whine. “I have to be at the restaurant in different attire in less than an hour.”

“You too, huh?” He laughs softly.

It takes very little for him to undo your hero costume, stripping it off your body. You were well aware that anyone could catch you two, but you didn’t care. Even if this was how you two would show the world you were together, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was feeling him fill you up.

“I need to prepare you,” he grunts in your ear. He sucks on two of his fingers, then he eagerly uses them to stretch open your little hole.

Your breathing became uneven, and you had to lean on him because you absolutely didn’t trust your legs right now. Toshi takes little time to begin fucking you with his thick fingers. You were pretty used to him being in his true form, so for you to feel this stretch was quite a nice change of pace as well.

“Poor little girl,” he smirks as he watches you rely on him to keep you upright. “You’ve been missing daddy’s cock.”

You can’t even argue with this. He’s been quite busy lately, so it’s been a while since either of you could have some alone time. You missed the way he stimulated you, and you definitely were missing the sex and intimacy.

Toshi pumps his fingers deeper and harder in your pussy until you’re dripping all over his hand. He pulls it from you, making you whine at the loss of contact. It’s quickly replaced with a muffled moan as he spears you onto his length. You barely realized when he undressed himself.

“Gotta be quiet, baby.” He moans in your ear as he begins to pick up his pace. “We don’t wanna be caught like this.”

You lean against him, nuzzling against his muscular chest and biting down whenever the pleasure gets too good. He’s hitting spots deep inside of you that have you seeing stars. Toshinori laughs softly at the way you’re just a moaning mess now.

“Look at you,” he coos. “Already this fucked out on daddy’s cock, huh? What a good girl.”

You nod eagerly, biting down on his chest once more when he slams you down on him. He continues to fuck you like this, making the pleasure bubble deep inside of you. The knot in your tummy was about to unravel, especially if he was going to continue slamming right up against that sweet spot. You try to tell him you're close, but you can barely get the words out.

"T-Toshi,” you whine. “C-cumming.”

He laughs once more, loving the way he can just reduce you to this fucked out little lover. It boosts his ego when he knows he’s the one that can make you feel this way. You, this up-and-coming hero who’s got her career ahead of her and him, this washed out beloved older hero... it’s just the match made in heaven.

Your walls begin pulsating around him as you bite down hard on his pec. You’re going to leave a mark, that was for sure. When you manage to catch your breath after such an intense orgasm, you rest your head on his chest and look up at him with all the love in your eyes.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts. “When you look at me like that, princess, you make it hard for me to last much longer.”

You don’t stop giving him that lovesick look. Toshinori grits his teeth as he begins to pump you full of his thick seed. Slowly, he lowers you down on your shaky legs after he manages to come down from his high. He helps you back into your hero costume, smirking when he thinks about how his seed is going to be dripping from your abused cunt.

Then, with a long and passionate kiss, Toshinori guides you out of the tent. He winks at you before you two part ways.

“See you at the restaurant, Powerhouse.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

#bacon.writes #toshinori x reader #toshinori x you #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori yagi x you #bnha #bnha x reader #all might #all might x reader #all might smut #toshinori yagi smut #yagi toshinori x you #yagi toshinori x reader #mha toshinori #bnha toshinori

84 notes · View notes

trendywaifus · 3 months ago

Note

I’ll do you one better and plant the little teeny seed of Anby walking in (unintentionally…or was it) on Nicole straight up in a session with the reader…her thighs pressing hard down on there hehe

mmm, i think it’d be funny to have billy walk instead😭 cw: gn! reader, suggestive themes

“ you’ve been on that computer damn near all morning, (name). “ your girlfriend grumbles, strutting into your shared room with her, arms crossed over her chest. you say nothing for a few moments, typing and typing away on the keyboard. you didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her presence. her brow twitch with annoyance. matter-a fact, you barely said anything or interacted with anyone this morning! all you did was wake her up with a good morning kiss and mutter to her that you’ve made breakfast for everyone and hopped straight onto the computer. you didn’t even show up for breakfast despite telling her you were going to!

“ (name). “

click, clack, clack, clack, click. were you ignoring her?

nicole let’s out an irritated grunt before growling your name through gritted teeth.

“ (name)! “

instantly, you perk up, finally rotating your chair around to look at her. your eyes skim over her annoyed body language and raised a puzzled brow at her. “ yes, baby? did you and the others eat breakfast yet? “

agitated by your lack of awareness, nicole huffs irritably, holding back the urge to come over and smack the living daylights out of you. “ don’t baby me! i was trying to talk to you for the past minute! you were suppose to come eat with us but you didn’t show up! what were you doing on that computer anyways? “

guilt flashes across your face before you cast her an apologetic smile. “ i didn’t mean to ignore you. i figured skipping out on breakfast would help us save food for this week. i was actually trying to create a budget and manage our savings for this month, c’mere. “ you beckon her with a finger and she walks over to you with curious eyes to take a closer look. nicole’s quiet as she inspects the little project you were making.

“ i was also trying to fix up our website’s layout to look more professional so—“

“ you dummy, “ nicole mutters softly, lightly smacking the back of your neck before stroking it tenderly. “ i can do all of this. you don’t have to do this—that, managing our money, our website, and purposely skip out on breakfast for us to—“

“ but i wanted to. “ you gingerly pull nicole into her lap, holding onto to her hips. “ don’t worry, it’s just a meal. you handle everything so i wanted to lessen the load off your shoulders. plus, you’re pretty bad with handling money—“

“ i am not. “ she denies sheepishly, loosely wrapping her arms around your neck, cheeks turning a subtle red. you lean into her with a teasing smile, your chest pressing up against hers.

“ are so. mostly because my boss is such a kind person. “ you lean in closer and closer until your nose gently grazes nicole’s and her soft breath mingling with yours.

“ wh-what do you know about your boss? “ she questions softly, you circle nonexistent shapes into her hipbones.

“ enough. buying those orphan kids toys, paying me and the others more than what’ll you have for yourself, dare i say more? “

a noise similar to a grunt leaves her. instead of stammering and arguing back, she grumpily pouts. “ i’m sick and tired of you thinking you know me.” her tone sounds anything but annoyed.

you giggle, playfully puckering your lips at her. “ i’m sorry, kiss? “

“ ugh, you’re such a mess. don’t ask me for a kiss and do that. “ nicole murmurs, lowered hazel hues peering into yours. you chuckle and take it upon yourself to kiss her lips. the taste of her cherry lip balm makes you hum with delight. nicole kisses back, firm and languid. your palms feel up her curvy sides and she holds your jaw in place with one hand while the other is hanging off your shoulder.

“ from now on, i’ll handle the budget and the money you give to me is shared between us. but, that doesn’t mean to go spend it all so carelessly.“ you mutter between soft kisses, nibbling on her plump bottom lip. she gives your jaw a light squeeze as acknowledgment, mismatch colored-nails gently digging into the flesh.

“ fine, i’ll agree to that. “ she’s more focused on your careful hands touching her body like an expensive vase. you’re treating her as if she’s worth over 3,000,000 dennies. don’t even get her started on your one million denny kisses. she exerts her weight down on your lap, earning a muffled groan from you.

“ what are you doing? “ you ask breathlessly, moving your head to the side to moan when nicole does it again.

“ awarding you for being my most loyal employee~”she purrs confidently in your ear, kissing the shell of your ear before descending. she plants sweet, open-mouth kisses down the column of your neck. your hands grasp for the fleshy part of her thighs to withstand her assault. “ nic—colee. .” you drawl and nicole finds herself grinding her ass down, wanting more of her name to drag deliciously off of your tongue.

“ blame yourself for riling me up like this and it’s barely noon. it’s only fair i get to do this. “ nicole tuts, sliding her tongue over a sensitive spot on your neck that she knows you’re weak too. her hand drags down your chest and stomach with the intention of slipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your bare skin. before she can go further, the door creaks open and billy peeks his head out. you and nicole immediately freeze up. “ boss? (name)? where are you? we have to get ready—oh good heavens! “ billy apologizes frantically for his intrusion once he discovers the situation you and nicole are in. fuming with frustration, nicole angrily snatch the wireless mouse from the desk and hurls it at billy’s head and he quickly slams the door shut just in time for the mouse to end up crashing into the wall, destroying it. she’s just about ready to jump up from your lap and chase after him but you hold her back.

“ BILLY, HOW ABOUT YOU KNOCK ON THE DOOR FIRST BEFORE YOU BARGE INTO MY ROOM, YOU’RE SO GOING TO GET IT, YOU BIG DUMMY!”

“ N-NICOLE, MY MOUSE! “

#trendythirsts #nicole demara x reader #zzz women x reader #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader

126 notes · View notes