#I guess that’s what makes me really grateful for teaching

[itspileofgoodthings]

so many people have said that as you approach your 30’s things start to fall into place but I don’t feel that at all. the closer I get the more it feels that everything is dissolving and falling apart

#it’s not all in a bad way! #I’m hoping Wendell Berry is right and it may in fact be that when we have lost our way our real journey begins #and there is something where in the dissolution of certainty God enters and directs us the way He wants us to go #and reminds us that we’re not strong and independent from Him but children in His hands #but I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss the certainty of 2018/22/younger Maria #I don’t quite know this new self #except for teaching everything is uncertain and I sort of daren’t pick up the colored pencils of life to do anything with them #I guess that’s what makes me really grateful for teaching #it’s firm and sure contact between me and the outside world #but everything else is just drifting and I am at sea! #anyways I am so sorry for putting personal self-reflection and analysis on your dash on this Easter morning #ewww ugh disgusting blegh I’m sorry #but trying to gain some clarity through words #Happy Easter! thank you for listening!! praying for you all

[imfinereallyy]

hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

#steddie #stranger things #Steve eventually gets a hummingbird tattoo #everything I write is soft #they deserve to be soft #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #cw: implied homophobia #cw: internalized homophobia #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #robin buckley #steve x eddie #soft boys #post s4 #bisexuality awareness

[mionemymind]

Lost in the Universe (Part 2)

Summary: The aftermath of Y/n being rescued from the alternate universe.

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Cursing, Jealousy

A/n: @tynix had requested a part two. And I wanted to post something since I JUST TURNED 23 BABES!! So I guess this is a birthday gift for me?? Hope y'all enjoy the fluff. Also, I love all the Candy Montgomery gifs that I keep seeing :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Part 1

“I appreciate you teaching her how to control her powers, but we cannot have you going through different universes again,” Wanda complained into Y/n’s chest. Today was an off day and the couple decided to spend much-needed quality time together. Y/n slightly chuckled at Wanda’s pouty-ness, ever since they came back to their universe, Wanda had been feeling extra clingy. 

“You worry too much my love. There was no doubt in my mind that you would’ve found me.” Y/n tweaked her words a little as she remembered alternate Wanda’s words. “We’re tethered,” Y/n thought. She kissed her girlfriend’s forehead, continuing to run her fingers through Wanda’s hair. 

“How can I not worry? You try finding me throughout different universes.” Y/n chuckled more much to Wanda’s dismay. The redhead was more than anxious about the whole situation. She tried her best not to be so angry at America for the obvious accident, but not knowing what universe Y/n was in spiraled her to think the worst. 

“Well my love, you’re more powerful than me. So I would have a harder time getting to you.” Wanda rolled her eyes at the compliment but still smiled. “Not only that, I would’ve probably talked to other Wanda’s out there to help me find you.” 

“Speaking of, how was my counterpart? Was it freaky to see me in a different universe?” Y/n hummed for a bit, letting herself get lost at the thought of alternate Wanda. 

“I was really scared at first. You being the Scarlet Witch, I wasn’t sure if alternate Wanda had the same powers as you. Not only that, I begged in my heart that you were good too. I wouldn’t know how to deal with an evil Wanda - wait if she’s evil, she might be emo too - and your emo phase was pretty hot babe.” Wanda swatted Y/n’s chest as Y/n laughed at the obvious joke she said. Intertwining their hands, Y/n rubbed circles in Wanda’s palm, “But seriously…when I first got there she called me dekta like you. I almost thought it was you, however, something inside me could just feel that it wasn’t you.”

“So what happened?” Y/n sighed as she rubbed Wanda’s back. The redhead enjoyed the constant feeling of Y/n’s touch. “She called me out. Told me that I’m not her Y/n. Rather than giving me a hard time for being in her universe, she let me into her house and kind of relieved my anxiety.” 

Wanda smiled at the thought of her counterpart being nice to her girlfriend. Although Wanda could never imagine a world where she would hurt Y/n, she was just extra grateful to know Y/n never landed in that scenario. “Did you like her more than me?” Wanda joked. 

Y/n snorted at Wanda’s lame joke, “Well she did make me hot chocolate.” Wanda rolled her eyes again as she lightly hit Y/n’s chest one more time. “Keep hitting me woman, I’ll make America send me there again.” 

Wanda lifted her head and flashed her red eyes at Y/n. “Don’t you even dare.” Y/n smiled at her girlfriend’s obvious jealousy and gave her a small kiss. “I wouldn’t - plus the only reason I would want to is to help my counterpart get their shit together.” 

“What do you mean?” Y/n kissed Wanda once more before laying her head back onto the pillow. “Alternate Wanda said that alternate Y/n hasn’t confessed her feelings yet, which is annoying because they literally live on a farm together. How platonic can that shit even be?” 

“What if your counterpart was just as scared as you?” Y/n lingered back to the time before she confessed her feelings to Wanda. All the yearning and pent-up feelings were enough to compete with any love-struck idiot. “I can imagine that, but at the same time, I hadn’t bought a farm with you yet and she did.”

“You and this farm.” Wanda kissed Y/n's arm. “Should we get a place of our own?” 

“Where would you like to live?” Wanda thought about it, no particular location was coming to mind. “Something that doesn’t scream American capitalism.” 

“Italy farmlands?” Y/n moved her hand from Wanda’s back up to Wanda’s head, running her fingers through her hair again. “What made you think of that?” 

“I forgot the title, but I remember liking this movie that was located in the Italy farmlands.” Y/n kept racking her brain for the title, nothing came up though. “When you were searching for me, did you ever find alternate me’s?” 

“I found a couple. One was almost like you but two of them were drastically different in style so that helped a lot.” Wanda recalled the moment she almost mistook one of Y/n’s counterparts for her Y/n. But it all came back to that tethered feeling. 

“One of the Y/n’s was actually with their Wanda. It was fun to talk to a different version of myself. She was quick to tell me that I was in the wrong universe and tried to direct me to you.” 

“What if she thought you were there to steal the other version of me?” Y/n joked once more. “I wouldn’t want a different version of you. You’re it for me dekta.” Wanda got up once more and kissed Y/n slowly. “Don’t ever forget that.” 

“Never.” 

Alternate Universe

“Who’s the slut?” Wanda barely entered her house before the accusations were thrown at her by Y/n. “Excuse me?” Wanda had returned from the edge of their farm where counterpart Y/n was rescued from. 

“You heard me. Who. Is. The. Slut.” Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her eyes motioned to the two cups at the coffee table. Wanda rolled her eyes with a devilish smile, “You.” 

Making Y/n work for more answers, Wanda walked away to the kitchen. “Very funny Wanda,” Y/n mocked. “I wasn’t being funny,” Wanda batted her eyes innocently which annoyed Y/n even further. “Who the fuck was it?” Y/n was irritated beyond belief. She had come home from a mission hoping to see her crush just to find out that some bitch came over and drank her supply of hot chocolate with “her girl”. 

“Well, she’s this very hot girl,” Wanda said as she played dumb, she walked slowly to Y/n and continued, “She’s very charming and kind too - actually, she helped me with the farm today.” This angered Y/n beyond belief. Who the fuck comes to her home and manages to steal her girl within hours? She had a five-year plan that’s been in motion since the day she met Wanda. 

With one last step, Wanda was in Y/n’s space, wrapping her arms around her neck and Y/n held her hips. “Do you like her?” Wanda thought about it for a second, before saying, “Something like that.” Wanda enjoyed the feeling of messing with Y/n, especially with something so harmless. 

However, Y/n could not take it anymore. Frustrated, Y/n stepped out of Wanda’s grasp. “Well, I hope you live happily ever after,” Y/n said sarcastically. Before she could walk any further, Wanda grabbed her hand and pulled Y/n back into her arms. She rolled her eyes, “You are so oblivious.” 

Not wanting to wait any further, Wanda confidently kissed Y/n, feeling the tether that connected them ignite with a new fire, a new love. Y/n reacted swiftly as Wanda jumped and wrapped her legs around Y/n’s waist. “More,” Y/n begged in her head, her knees were growing weak, but she needed more. 

Wanda abruptly cut the kiss off, pushing Y/n slightly back as she moved forward, eager for more. “Will you finally admit that you’re in love with me?” Y/n grinned as she kissed Wanda’s cheek, “I had a plan.” 

“Oh yeah? It took somebody coming over to finally rile you up.” 

“Speaking of, who the fuck was it?” Wanda laughed as Y/n sternly asked. 

“You’ll never guess.”

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #lost in the universe

[kleotheundeadone]

Scenario: Teaching Alastor To Kiss

(A/N: This is based off of a previous post I made where I talked about how the main group would kiss, & I concluded that Alastor would be bad at it, lmao. I’m still a simp, so I gotta redeem him a little bit, pun totally intended. This may be ooc, but it’s my hyperfixation, & I shall do as I please with it)

“Remind me again, darling, what is the point of practicing such a trivial activity?”

You sighed a bit, rolling your eyes at the demonic deers tone. Perhaps you should have guessed that Alastor wouldn’t know how to kiss. He had (begrudgingly) admitted to having never been in a relationship before you, so it made sense that he had never been kissed before, & wouldn’t be sure how it works. But it would be nice if the egotistical asshole would shelve his pride for 5 seconds so you could help him through this. “Come on Alastor, kissing is just like any other skill. It takes practice, & patience. So if we’re gonna do this, you gotta work with me. It’s okay to not be good at it at first.” 

A laugh track echoed around the room. “Ha! Oh, you truly do know just how to make me laugh, my dear! As if mashing one's face with another requires much skill. What a ridiculous notion all together!” You rolled your eyes. Why were you bothering with him again? You almost decide to just give up entirely before feeling his hand carefully take hold of yours, pulling your attention back to him. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to subject myself to such foolish flights of fancy. If only just this once.” You smiled softly at him, slowly placing your hand on his cheek. The sound of radio static filled the room for a moment, before lulling down into a subtle hum. “If you don’t wanna do this,” You murmured, squeezing his hand slightly in an effort to calm him. “It’s okay. We really don’t have to.” There was a beat of silence, save for the gentle hum of static, before he nodded, his smile strained. You wouldn’t lie & say it was perfect at first- A couple instances of uncomfortable teeth kissing, fumbling at trying to carefully instruct him on how to hold his head, & reminders to keep his lips closed, but after a few minutes, there was a very noticeable improvement.

“You’re doing much better,” You smiled, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Lets give it one more try, alright?” You could feel the air around you buzzing around erratically as the grating sound of radio static filled the room, but nonetheless, Alastor kept on a brave smile & nodded once again, shutting his eyes & leaning forward like you had taught him to. You press your lips softly against his, eyes fluttering shut as you shut out the world & focused on the feeling of his mouth against yours. His kiss was soft, careful, & dare you say unsure. There was a vulnerability in it that was completely out of character for the radio demon. Had anyone else ever been with him in such a revealing state? You knew all too well the answer was no. The fact he was here with you like this was… Would it be too cliche to describe it as... Heavenly? The gentle hum of the radio static turns into the soft melody of strings & what you could have sworn was a saxophone. Was- Was he playing slow jazz??? You chuckled softly, pulling away as a consequence of your giggles. Alastor's ears twitched back & forth slightly as he laughed right along with you. "Forgive me darling, but the silence was dreadful! I simply had to do something about it before it killed me. Again!" You shook your head in disbelief as you reached the end of your little giggle fit, playfully nudging his side. "That's fair. Even I feel a bit awkward when kissing someone in total silence." Alastor hummed softly, stroking your cheek before grabbing you by the jaw, placing his other hand on the small of your back as his smile stretched out wide across his face, his crimson gaze glowing eerily. "Well then, I suppose we'll just have to make some noise, won't we my dear?"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #i desire him carnally #i was this close to having him say “my deer” instead of “my dear” #not sure why i didn't #i regret it

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

there's dirt on my face from when they buried me alive; i'll show you how to kiss, teach me how to breathe through these soil-laden lungs.

jw60 x reader: what happens at the renaissance faire does (not) stay at the renaissance faire.

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's honestly not bad), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), idk a little hair pulling, nothing too crazy (be proud of me!), but you should be warned about the insanity that is me writing slow burn. i know i'm forgetting a lot but all my usual suspects. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: well, favorites, did someone say longest story yet? no, size doesn't matter, but this is getting out of hand. we're over 15k, now. next time i'm just gonna hand you a novel. happy valentine's day from the writer that loves you the most. where to begin? no, i don't know anything about faire culture or even that much about theatre, but i hope you like this anyways, because i absolutely loved writing it. i guess goalies are for the heartbreakers (and jw60 is for people who have been demonized because they're hot). this is for those of us with a little bit of a reputation, a little bit of a history. you deserve someone who thinks you look like a princess when your tits are falling out of your corset. yeah, the pacing's probably a bit off, and i got carried away with his big doe-eyes, but shh! don't tell anyone. oh, and you guys can pry bad kisser jw60 from my cold, dead hands. you know how i used to say i hope you watch the canucks and think, wow, qh43 definitely wants something that's just his? i hope you watch the leafs (when jw60 comes back) and think, wow, sweetheart doesn't know how to kiss! and with that stiff upper neck, too, poor baby! of course, please tell me what you think, because i love it when you do. what else? thank you a million times for all the love. try to spot the baby leafs in the supporting cast. and i'm about halfway done with frat!jh86 (it's fun, you'll love it). thank you for being patient with me. go canucks. until next time, all my love).

the corset was making it really, really hard to breathe. you swore, tonight, when you finally unbound yourself, there would be indentations of the small brass eyelets in your spine, perhaps that your back would slink and melt into the ground, having grown accustomed to the relentless support of the tightly-tied ribbon.

"i don't want to hear it," jenny, your best friend, said, holding a hand up to silence you before you even spoke. "you look unreal. you'll thank me for this, babe, i swear it."

you shook your head at her. "i just don't get why i have to dress like a medieval prostitute," you mused, gesturing to yourself, then her, "and you get be, uh, whatever that is."

jenny threw a hairbrush at you, which you dodged. "i'm a jester. you know this. you know how important this is to me."

you sighed, because you did. jenny had been a regular at the old renaissance faire every summer since she was little. you were about to be seniors in university, but this summer, jenny had insisted that you join her, some kind of last hurrah before you began to walk an intertwined path for what would likely be the last time.

and as much as you didn't really have any interest in jousting, or feudal society, or turkey legs, or whatever it was that people did at these things, you loved jenny enough to be grateful that she wanted to share her special place with you.

you didn't ask why she insisted on being a court jester ever year. maybe that was just her true form.

you walked over to where she sat in front of her mirror, put your hands on her shoulders. "and you're the hottest jester i've ever seen," you said, kissing her on the top of the head. "but i still can't breathe in this."

"that's the point," jenny replied, waving you off.

you had wanted to design your own costume, as costume design was quite literally your passion. you'd designed for every school play and musical since freshman year, wanted to pursue it further after college.

jenny had seemed so excited, though, and it was her day, so you let her take the reigns. the way this get-up fit you, though, the revealing upper-thigh slit, the abundance of cleavage you were sporting, the draping lacey skirts, it all had you hoping this specific faire had a strict no-men policy. you could practically already feel the weight of slimy stares on your exposed leg, the top of your chest. not to mention your face, but that was a bit of a constant, not just today.

you finished your hair and makeup, perfected the wench/heroine/damsel look. you knew yourself to be capable of all but shapeshifting, with your design and artistic abilities, but this old-timey seductress look was a spectacle, that was for sure.

jenny squealed when she saw the finished look. you cracked a smile at her ensemble, a straight-up court jester, down to the bells on her pointed hat, the face paint that matched the color scheme of her costume. "you look great," you told her.

"it's about letting my inner jest shine through," she said, "and that's why i dressed you up. so you have enough sex appeal for the two of us."

you were going to ask why there needed to be any sex appeal at all, but when you finally arrived at the sight of the faire, it became clear that that was simply part of the show.

you weren't even out of place in your revealing get-up, among all of the corsets and pants that looked like tights, not at all, although you had to give jenny credit. out of the many wenches and princesses and knights and pirates and such, your costume was especially lovely.

jenny linked her arm with yours as you passed under the tented entrance. it smelled like charcoal smoke and sugar, like wet leaves and musk.

"welcome to paradise," jenny said, a bright, genuine smile on her round face.

you couldn't help but smile, too. smile at this almost-hilarious display of the modern obsession with the past, of the unrelenting pursuit of entertainment, of the shared desire to be someone, somewhere, sometime else. this faire was just human, in a way that could be sort of somber, but in a way that you read as beautiful.

"where to first?" you asked your friend.

for hours, you let her lead you from place to place, from memory to memory.

"this is where my cousin, brett, bought his crush a leather-bound notebook," jenny said, while you perused a leather goods stand. she winced. "think she had a boyfriend, though."

you took pictures of her with different characters, let her take pictures of you with them, after. you smiled, big and cheesy, next to guys on stilts, jugglers, acrobats.

"you're gonna love this one," jenny said, pulling you into a barn that sold soaps and other handmade goods. you held a candle to your nose, inhaled, closed your eyes at the subtle combination of pine and something slightly floral.

you held it out to your friend. "try this one," you offered, picking up another one to test. you left the barn with two new candles and a hand soap for your apartment at school.

"we have to avoid archery," jenny whispered to you from behind a hand as you waited in line for giant pickles.

"why?" you asked, tilting your head at her serious expression.

"pretty sure my high school ex still runs it," she said, "and not the fun one."

you successfully avoided her ex, tried mead (honestly, how did people ever drink that), had your fortune told.

"my mom used to be the fortune teller at her local faire," jenny told you, a wistful sort of look in her eyes. "it's how she met my dad."

your heart flipped. you were a sucker for a meet-cute. "really?" you asked, "how romantic, jen. we have to do it."

jenny went first, the bell on her hat jingling with each movement. she walked away with a vague promise of new opportunities ahead and a new light to step into.

you smiled when she relayed this information to you, grabbed her hands excitedly. "a new light?" you said, "like a center-stage light? like a lead role?"

jenny's eyes widened. you'd met her freshman year in the theatre department, you a bit of a loner with a knack for a sewing machine and her a talkative actress with a beautiful singing voice.

still, after three years of productions, jenny had never had a lead role. she had a affinity for playing the side kick, the best friend, the assistant, the villain's love interest.

but no one had seen what she was capable of more than you, and you knew this year would be the year. you couldn't wait to watch her give the last bow on opening night, with you clapping from the wings.

now, jenny grinned at you. "this is the year, babe," she agreed. "now you!"

she gave you a gentle push towards the booth. the woman running it was probably somewhere between fifty and sixty. she had the face of a person who took advantage of sunny days, of someone who didn't deny herself simple pleasures, who had spent years laughing.

you felt at ease with her when she took your hand, ran her fingers along the ridges of your palm.

"rough hands, girly," she said, shooting you a lighthearted wink. "you workin' too hard, eh?"

you smiled. "just hard enough, ma'am," you told her, to which she patted your hand lightly in approval.

"you'll keep working," she told you, "but you'll find some new fun, too. sooner than you think."

you thanked her, bid her a good day. you never were one to put much stock into this kind of thing, but you'd take a little more fun any day.

when you told jenny what your fortune had been, she bumped her hip against yours. "hopefully that means a new guy," she mused.

you rolled your eyes. "don't need a guy for fun, do i?"

"'course not," she said, waving you off. "just know you, babe."

"you make it sound like i'm some depraved witch," you teased.

she laughed, pulled you by the arm to the big tent in the center of the faire. "c'mon," she said, "it's time for the joust!"

the joust was the main event of the day, you had known this coming in. it was fun, a spectacle of men on horses. you found yourself fascinated with the way they had dressed the horses up, the funny way all the actors were talking, so distracting that you barely noticed when the joust actually happened.

you still applauded and whistled along with jenny, listened to her tell a story about one joust in which the horse ran in the opposite direction, right out of the tent. you were holding your stomach in gentle laughter as you made to finish your day off at the tavern.

the sky began to melt from a blue to a burnt orange, the air hazy with heat. you could feel a day of standing in your thighs, a day of heeled boots in your calves. the makeup on your face had stayed put, but you could feel the weight of it like a halloween mask. your hair pulled at your scalp, a bit.

"hey, thanks for being such a good sport about this," jenny said as she brought you back a massive jug of beer, setting it down on the table with her own.

"what?" you said, scrunching up your face. "this is awesome, jen. thank you for inviting me."

she rolled her eyes at you, but her smile was obviously pleased. "i know it's corny, and kinda weird, but it's, i don't know." she trailed off, a misty sort of look in her eye.

you took her hand from across the table. you got what she meant. with senior year about to start, everything had a new, foreign sort of gravity to it, like it might never happen again. like you might miss it, if you didn't breathe all of it in. "i get it," you told her. "and where else am i gonna get to dress like this?"

she grinned at you as you took a sip from your jug.

"little jenny jester? is that you?"

you both turned to see an old, old man in magician's robes. jenny squealed. "magic jarod!" she said, before turning to you. "be right back," she whispered, "family friend."

"go 'head," you said, waving her on. you watched her approach the man, give him a big hug. you smiled. it was pretty cool, to know people at an event like this. to have people know you.

you sipped on your beer, quickly realized there was no way you were going to finish it. to pass the time, you people-watched, tried to guess people's relations to each other. you admired people's costumes, made mental notes of unique beading patterns or interesting pleats.

at some point, you were torn from your lulled observance by a polite cough. "is this, uh, where the plus-ones hang out?"

you turned your head to the side slightly to see the owner of that deep, pleasant voice. if you were the type to wolf-whistle, this would have been the time to do it.

something thrummed in your chest as you took in the man who stood in front of you, now. maybe it was the height, maybe the lean, working sort of bulk, maybe the soft-looking, just long enough hair. maybe it was the impossibly blue eyes that you could see even in the dim light of the tavern at dusk. maybe it was the careful, straight posture, the high cheekbones, cut jaw.

or maybe it was the fact that he was dressed in some sort of homemade prince outfit, a loose cream blouse, dark trousers, a dainty tiara-like crown atop his head.

he shifted back on his heels ever-so-slightly under your gaze, like it was something tangible, something that meant something.

in the misty, warm lighting of these low ceilings, among the dirty tables and scent of beer, he appeared deliciously out of place, like some fabled savior, some ancient temptation disguised as an angel.

you gave him a small smile, leaning into the table, just a bit. "did you also come with a jester?" you asked, teasing.

his mouth quirked, a beautiful flush blooming across his cheeks at the sound of your voice. he gave a shake of his head that shook the longer curls around his ears. "'m with the knight," he said, nodding to the person who was currently talking to a woman dressed as a pirate, who appeared very confused. to be fair, the person she was talking to was in full armor.

you gestured to the open spot across the table from you. "keep my friend's spot warm until she gets back?"

he stepped closer until he was just across from you. until you could see how long his lashes were, how big his eyes were, doe-like and boyish. how, ever since you'd first made eye contact with him, his gaze hadn't dipped to your chest even once. which was a feat, even jenny had gotten distracted a couple of times.

he made eye contact like a religion, like it was so, so significant. you took a sip of your beer. "what kind of prince are you?" you asked, leaning your heavy head on a palm.

he gave a low short of chuckle, and the sound was a rumble through your body, shook you up from the inside out. he clasped his broad hands in front of himself. "the boring kind," he said.

you shook your head, laughed. "okay, then, boring prince," you said. "what's your name?"

he licked his lips, and your eyes tracked the movement. your hands felt jittery. "joseph," he said, then asked for yours. you gave it. his kind eyes shimmered at this piece of you. "and what kind of princess are you, sweetheart?"

you laughed, bit your lip to stifle it, as you didn't want him to think you were making fun of him. but, really, in what world was this a princess costume? maybe in an adult film, but not here.

he didn't seem offended, though, just gave you a pouty look dripping with mirth. "what?" he said. you had a feeling he was rarely on the outside of an inside joke.

"it's just funny," you told him, feeling honest and open in the light of his polite gentleness. "that you think 'm dressed as a princess."

"oh, yeah?" he asked. his tiara shifted on his head. "what're you dressed as, then?"

something different wafted through the air between the two of you, something stronger than just the smell of grime and alcohol. something that felt sluggish, sparkly, seductive.

because even now, he didn't look away from your eyes. and that was, somehow, so much more intimate than some desperate once-over, one that would get caught on your chest, your thighs.

"how many princesses do you know who show this much skin?" you asked instead of answering his question. your voice had grown gravelly without your permission.

you had almost dared him to look away from your eyes, to take you in fully, in all of your corset-strapped glory.

but he didn't. which had you almost begging that he would.

"at least one," he said, a lopsided grin slanting across his face. "at least you."

"you know," you started, thought for a second. you sucked on your teeth, and his gaze flickered to your mouth for one single, almost undetectable second. a second that sparked a fire underneath you, had victory horns blaring in the distance. "you're pretty charming for a boring prince, joseph."

that pretty blush grew deeper, made his stark stature appear comfortable, warm. you wanted more of it. you wanted to know it deeply and personally.

when had you shifted so close together? the both of you leaning across the small table like it wasn't even there, breathing in the same air, sharing so politely.

you wanted to make his kind eyes simmer, make his blood run hot. you were close, you knew it, you could feel it in his exhales, in the slight tremor of his hands.

"don't think 'm the charmer between us, sweetheart," he said, low, a secret.

"we can share the title, if you want," you offered. "i'd share with you."

he hummed, shifted on his elbows, restless. "that's kind of you," he said. there was a roughness to his tone that flipped your heart in your chest, wrapped your legs up in coiling heat.

"what can i say?" you said, "you're a good influence on me."

there was a pause, during which you reached a hand up and gently adjusted his tiara so that it sat straight on his head again. you tried not to ruminate on how soft his hair was under your fingertips, pretended not to notice how his gaze draped over your face like a weighted blanket as you focused on the task.

when you withdrew your hand, he was staring at you. it felt like there was no one else in the room. "there," you said.

"straightened me out, did you?" he rasped, those doe eyes drowsy.

your mouth quirked up in a smirk. "oh, joey, i couldn't straighten you out," you said, tilting your head.

"no?" he asked, almost disappointed, not really. "what, sweetheart? 'd you be a bad influence on me?" he teased, twisting your words.

you knew you had him.

you knew you had him, so you forced aside any sensuality from your tone, your expression. "oh, fuck, i think my necklace is stuck in my hair," you said, clutching your hair, wincing like it hurt, watching concern flood his delicate features so gracefully. "know it's a lot to ask, joseph, but could you come to bathroom with me and untangle it, please?"

"of course," he said, practically before you could get it out, letting you take one of his wide, warm hands and tug him to the bathroom. once he was inside, just behind you, you locked the door, dropped your hair, both hands now free.

he appeared confused for a second. "your necklace?" he asked, but he trailed off as you placed a hand on his chest, felt the silken material of his shirt under your palm.

you peered up at him through your lashes, cocked your head. "'d you really fall for that, joey?" you asked, almost shocked.

his firm chest rose and fell under your hand, his exhales coming out shaky. "you're very persuasive," he mustered.

you hummed, relished in the heat that simmered between the two of you, full-bodied and palpable. "'m sorry i lied," you whispered, because you felt compelled to, because you had a feeling it mattered.

"'s okay," he breathed, immediate in his forgiveness, finally moving his hands from his sides to rest gently on your hips. this decision seemed to take a lot out of him, which made you smile. like his desire was heavy, like he just needed somewhere to put it down. like he wanted to touch you, so badly, but needed permission, needed someone to tell him how.

"can i be a bad influence on you for a second?" you asked him, leaned forward into his chest, "please?"

he nodded, leaned back against the door like holding his posture straight was suddenly too much to endure, let out some affirmative sound, halfway between a breath and a whimper.

you kept one hand on his chest, pressed him into the door, snaked your other hand into his hair and rooted it there. his grip on your hips tightened, now hard and strong, his own hips angling up slightly, involuntarily.

"can i kiss you?" you asked, suddenly soft, despite his sudden strength. because you had a feeling it mattered. that he mattered.

"please," he said, basically a whine, which had you fisting his shirt and tugging him down, his lips meeting yours in something like a fairytale, something heated and passionate and glutted with relief.

something heated, in the way you pulled at his hair, how his hand reached around you to pull you closer, right up against him.

something passionate, in the way your knees felt wobbly as swallowed down his sounds, swore you could feel his heartbeat under your palm.

something glutted with relief, in the way his tiara fell from his head entirely, only recognized by the dull clatter of plastic against wood, in the way neither of you pulled away, in the way it only gave you more access to him.

he tasted like mint and something slightly earthy, like peppermint candy and flaky sea salt. you much preferred this, you decided in a moment, to the taste of weed brownies and red bull that distinguished the kisses you had grown accustomed to, at school.

it was something like a fairytale, but not because it was perfect.

because it wasn't perfect, not at all. joseph was actually kind of a bad kisser, you realized. nothing crazy, nothing jarring, but the tell-tale signs of inexperience hung off of him like a too-big jacket.

moments of too-much teeth, unsure hands, a stiff neck, they made you smile against his mouth, because it was obvious he didn't let just anyone into his space like this.

so when his teeth would clash against yours, you'd simply nip at his bottom lip, playful, forgiving.

when his hands would still, uncertain, you'd just place a hand over where one of his rested, held it there, let him know you felt him, still, unwavering.

when his neck would stiffen, you'd rub at the knots with a knuckle, trace your nails over his hairline, feel a shiver erupt under your fingertips.

until he grew more comfortable in his motions, more brave in his want. desire flowed between you both like gasoline, sharp-scented and flammable. he let out an especially uninhibited groan when you brought your hand down to rest on his waistline, but the sound was engulfed by three swift knocks on the door.

"get outta there, guys," some authoritative voice called. "we're not that kind of establishment."

reluctantly, you pulled away from each other, chests heaving. the top of your chest glowed with warmth.

your prince looked delightfully disheveled. the top button of his shirt had slipped undone, his hair beautifully fussed, his cheeks ruddy, lips swollen, eyes glossy.

you knelt down, gently, picked up his plastic tiara, pushed up on your toes to place it on his head again. when you pulled back, there was something more dangerous than pure lust in his gaze.

as much fun as you knew you could have with him, and as much as you wanted to, you knew jenny would be looking for you, ready to go home. you knew joseph had his knight to attend to. knew this perfect moment that you had summoned was all but gone.

you knew the chances of seeing him again were very slim. the thought made your stomach drop, a bit. you exhaled all of your expectations, let them fall to the ground like sediment as you placed a hand on the doorknob.

he still hadn't said a word, almost in a daze. "you're going?" he asked, a husky rasp, and you could have pouted. it felt cruel, to be leaving behind such a pretty boy, one with such kind eyes.

you nodded slowly.

he just gave you a goofy sort of sad smile, tilted his crown to you like the brim of a hat. "until we meet again, trouble," he said, "you've been a lovely bad influence."

you smiled back at him, actually felt yourself blush. "and you've been a deviously good one," you said, "goodbye, joey."

and so you left him, walked away, but you could still feel his lips on yours, could feel the steadiness of his eye contact, the endearing uncertainty of his grip.

when the night ended, you had walked away from the dashing prince, the one you had pulled apart at the seams, but you knew you wouldn't forget him. your not-so-boring prince, who you couldn't even call a hookup, couldn't deem a fling, so you just knew him as your storybook kiss.

and you didn't forget him, even as the last summer days melted into early september, even as school started back up again, as classes came back into full-swing, as senior year and the countdown to graduation began.

you and jenny moved your things from your summer lease to your on-campus apartment, reunited with your friends who had been away for the summer, got all your classes and credits in order.

before you knew it, it was the first theatre department meeting, and you found yourself in the auditorium on a hot tuesday afternoon, slotting into a seat next to jenny and benji, the set designer who you had worked closely with during all your previous productions.

"good to see you, benj," you said, smiling at him.

he grinned, returned the sentiment, but tilted his head back in mock anguish. "another year of madness," he mused, "here we go again."

"our last go-around," you reminded him, elbowing him softly.

jenny made a noise, shook her head. "don't say that to me," she warned, "swear i'll start crying."

after welcoming everyone back, and building an adequate amount of suspense, the theatre director announced the fall play to be romeo and juliet.

"our department hasn't put it on since the eighties," the director exclaimed, "and i have the utmost belief that we will make it every bit the magical tragedy it is."

jenny was squeezing your hand so hard it hurt. juliet had been one of her dream roles since she was in middle school, since she had watched the movie with claire danes.

already, your head was spinning with visions of shakespearean headpieces, draping dresses, flowery imagery, blushy makeup.

beside you, benji groaned. "oh jesus," he lamented, "please, please, no castles."

you and jenny laughed. benji was one of the most talented artists you knew, and he always pulled it together before opening night, but he was a true procrastinator, tended to be a bit of a lazybones. the cast and crew loved him for it. what was an artist without a little bit of torture?

auditions were set for thursday morning, callbacks on friday, the final cast list to be posted on monday.

you didn't need to be present for any of the auditioning process, so, for the next few days, you enjoyed what you knew from experience to be your last moments of free time for the rest of the semester.

you went to office hours for your design professors, as you always did at the beginning of classes, just to introduce yourself, get yourself properly situated for academic success.

after jenny's audition on thursday, you went out, celebrated what she assured you was an astounding monologue delivery. between salted rims and blue-colored cocktails, jenny flipped her phone screen your way to show you the email that confirmed her callback tomorrow.

you squealed, shook her by the shoulders, pure excitement flowing through you. this was the year, you knew it. this was it.

nothing out of the ordinary, you let one of your friends set you up with some guy on saturday night. he was cute enough, kind of scummy, but, up until recently, he would have been exactly your type. you'd been known to go for the guys who looked like they'd been around the block, a little fratty, a little jocky. this guy, across from you, fit the bill, you could give him that.

all throughout college, you hadn't been the type to judge too harshly if a guy was a little too glued to his phone over dinner, if he had the distinct posture of someone who grew up with money, if he spoke shortly to wait staff.

for some reason, though, tonight, you felt itchy at the fact that he had a tough time looking you in the eye for more than a few seconds, felt a practically motherly concern at the way his fingers twitched towards his phone if he went more than a few minutes without looking at it.

for some reason, tonight, more so than nights before, the memory of a certain stiff-spined prince, blushing pink and thinking you were a princess, even dressed your sluttiest, danced across your mind like a waltz.

you sort of hated how his memory had kind of ruined what, a few months ago, would have been a satisfying hook-up, resented how someone you were never going to see again was dictating, to any degree, who you would go home with, but, regardless, you gave this guy across from you a terrible excuse for your need to leave, set a fiver on the table to cover your drink, hurried out the door and home.

jenny was sprawled out on her bed when you opened the door, watching some trashy reality dating show for the millionth time.

"watching it again isn't gonna make kaitlyn make the right choice," you reminded her as you set your bag down, recognizing the season from a single line of dialogue.

jenny groaned. "i can dream," she said, then fixed her eyes on you. "you look hot," she observed, "what are you doing here?"

you smiled as you began to take your makeup off. "went out with that guy chase set me up with," you explained, then sighed.

"what, did he lose his eyeballs on the way to the bar?"

you laughed, shook your head at jenny's characteristically odd wording. "nope," you said, "eyeballs intact. i just wasn't into it, i guess."

"fair enough," jenny agreed.

"it was so weird, though," you continued, "like, he was exactly what i usually go for."

"so he was a grimy slacker with a good face who has a concerning obsession with his mom?"

you gasped, feigned offense. "how dare you?" you asked, to which she giggled. "that was only twice!"

jenny rubbed at her neck. "for real though," she pushed, "what do you think is different?"

you bit your lip, thought for a moment, looked down at the cotton pad in your hand, now smudged with clumps of mascara and smears of blush. you swallowed. for some reason the sight made you slightly nauseous, some reminder of guilt or dirtiness or low self-esteem, or something like that, something you didn't really want to get into.

"you remember when you took me to the faire?" you said, still not looking at jenny.

"'course."

you exhaled. "well, when you were talking to that magician guy, i met this guy-"

jenny bolted upright from her horizontal position. "wait," she cut you off, excitement making her tone vibrate. "you mean to tell me that you met a guy at my faire, and i'm just hearing about it now?"

"sorry," you conceded, looking up to meet her eye.

"don't be," she waved you off, hugged her pillow to her chest. "i knew your costume would work!"

you rolled your eyes at her, pulled one of your knees up to your chest.

"so?" she asked, urging you on with her eyes. "tell me about him."

"he was just so fucking polite," you told her. "and so pretty. and when i made out with him in the bathroom it was like he didn't know how to kiss me, but he wanted to be good at it. so bad. like he was almost embarrassed about it." you sighed. "i don't even know why 'm still thinking about him," you told her, and it was true, sort of.

"i do," jenny told you, cracked a smile when you shot her a look. "i know everything."

"enlighten me, all-knowing jester," you said, gesturing for her to elaborate.

"you always take the scumbags, babe," she told you, "and they're fun, sure, but now you've had a taste of the teacher's pet, mom's favorite, goes to church on sunday. once you go 'good guy,' you never go back."

"i don't know," you said, skeptical, "i feel like i'm putting too much stock into this. feel like he probably doesn't even remember me."

jenny blew out a breath. "yeah right," she said, "let me tell you something."

"please."

"as much as you're feeling hooked on the good guy, right now," she said, "i can guarantee he's plagued at night by his glimpse of the dark side."

you hummed, smiled. "and i'm the dark side, in this scenario?"

"babe," jenny said, "you're not a 'bad person,' but you're a 'bad girl.'"

you pouted, but you knew what she meant. knew that you were kind, a good listener, a good friend, that you were trustworthy and patient and generous, but also that you weren't above the simple pleasures. that you weren't one to turn down a free drink, were always down to get your hands (and reputation) a little dirty, and until recently, that you were a one-night-stand frequent.

you also knew that people liked to label you as the bad girl simply because of the way you looked, the way you flirted, the way you dressed.

"whatever," you said, shrugging, acting like it didn't matter, wanting to change the subject, knowing just how to do it. "monday's the big day, right?"

jenny gushed about her callback, how that juliet role was practically hers, how she didn't want to jinx it. you told her the truth, that you couldn't imagine anyone else for the role, that they'd have to be stupid not to cast her.

and they proved to be not stupid, monday morning, when the cast list was emailed out to the department. on you way between classes, you received a face-time call from jenny before you even finished reading the full list.

"we did it!" jenny screamed as her jubilant face filled up your screen.

you couldn't help but let your face split into a grin at her excitement. "i told you," you said, "i told you! this is your year, jen. you deserve this so much." you almost felt misty-eyed. "'m so proud of you."

she looked like she actually was crying, now. "stop, babe, or you're gonna get me going," she warned. "fuck, i can't believe it. a lead role! i can't wait to wear your designs center stage!"

"i can't wait, too," you said, and you meant it.

"i know you have class, i'll let you go," she said, "see you at the meeting at four. okay, bye." she gave one last look. "our year!" she squealed as she hung up, leaving you laughing as you walked into class.

finally, it was time for the all-department meeting, your last commitment of the day, when everyone involved in the production met, now that you all knew the cast, from the leads to the directors to the stage managers to the last freshman painting sets under benji's direction.

"morrison's a night. mare," was the first thing that benji said to you as you slid into the seat next to him.

you hummed. "who's morrison?"

"one of my freshman," he explained. "his girlfriend's in the cast, said he wants to 'keep an eye on her,' whatever that means."

you scrunched up your nose. "gross," you said.

"and he sucks at everything," benji said. "'m half tempted to tell him to just stand in the corner and not touch anything."

you laughed as the director clapped his hands on the stage to get everyone's attention, launched into the typical congratulations speech. you felt jenny sit to your right with a deep breath.

"little late, eh, jen?" benji whispered.

"can it, benny," she replied, to which benji scowled. he hated when she called him that.

"and now, we'll do a full introduction," the director was saying, "from the back of the house all the way to the front. i can not emphasize enough how important it is that we, here in the theatre, trust and love everyone around us."

"i love you so much," you whispered to benji, who smirked.

"'m not interested, babe, but so flattered," was his response.

"why don't we start with our leads? jennifer and carlos, please stand and introduce yourselves."

"yeah, jennifer," you whispered, giggling into your hand. benji shook next to you.

jenny smacked you on the shoulder as carlos went. your production's romeo was a senior, too, had been in the department as long as you and your friends. you were a little surprised he had gotten the role, if you were honest, had always thought his acted grief came across as a bit shallow.

then jenny went, standing up, waving to everyone. when she was done with her introduction, no one clapped louder than you and benji, even whistling, a sound that echoed through the space.

the rest of the cast went, then all the directors and behind the scenes people. eventually, benji and his team went, followed by the costume crew.

"hi, everyone," you said, standing up, giving them all your name. "i'm the head costumer designer, and i can't wait to help all of you look like the best versions of yourselves and characters." you had used that line since sophomore year.

more people followed, eventually even the ushers went, followed by the orchestra and band.

you were friends with some of the music kids, so you tried to pay closer attention.

"'sup guys, 'm matt, on percussion," a stocky guy said, then gestured to the guy next to him. you laughed when you heard him grunt, "go, dude."

"yeah, i'm bobby," his friend, the blonde one, said, giving an awkward wave, "i, uh, play guitar."

"jesus, how does he look hotter than last spring?" benji said, putting his head in his hands, referring to the crush he had harbored on the department's guitarist for two years. you rubbed his shoulder in comfort, but a voice you recognized made your gaze snap back.

"hello, everyone, my name is joseph, i'm your new pianist, and i'm so excited to get to know you all."

the next person went to speak, but you just blinked, swallowed your disbelief down like a too-big pill.

it couldn't be him, but it was. there stood your boring prince, in a button down and khakis, this time, no tiara to be found. it made you wonder if he still had it, somewhere, maybe his bedroom, if his gaze would catch on it sometimes and he would think of you. if it would make him blush.

there he stood, hair just a bit longer, but the rest all the same as the dream boy who lived in your memory. so pretty, his words so naturally kind, you barely even noticed that he mentioned he would be the pianist for the production, too distracted by the fact that he was here, in front of you, right now.

hands on your waist, his soft groans muffled against your lips, wide doe eyes looking at you like he couldn't bear to look away, it all flashed across your mind, made you stiffen, your exhale come out short.

"you okay?" jenny whispered to you.

"that's him," you said.

"who?" her brow was furrowed, confused.

"that's him," you repeated. "the guy from the faire."

benji turned to you. "no way you let her drag you to that geek fest," he said, but you both ignored him, jenny's eyes going wide.

"that's your good guy?" she clarified. "the piano man is the bad kisser?"

"lower your voice," you warned, your voice low, serious.

benji leaned in. "you kissed bambi, over there?"

"yes, benny, keep up," jenny said, barely sparing him a look. "babe, you need to talk to him. this is fate." she snapped her fingers. "this is literally what the fortune teller was talking about, work and fun and all that."

you bit your lip, looked towards joseph again. your heart stuttered in your chest when you found him to be already looking at you. his lips quirked up in a shy smile as his fingers fluttered in a gentle wave.

you let a smile drape across your face at his recognition, his cordiality, then winked at him.

he looked at his feet, shifted lightly on his feet. you swore you could see his nervous blush from here. it made you feel like you were coated in glitter.

finally, the meeting ended with the promise of an email containing a review of all the information discussed. as everyone stood up and made for the exits, jenny gently shoved towards the front, where joseph was talking with his friends. she grabbed the elbow of benji and walked in the other direction as he muttered something about always being the last to know things.

you walked down the auditorium aisle, joseph's eyes lifting to meet yours as you got close. his smile grew boyish and bashful as he registered your approach, stepped out of his lean against the stage, brushed his palms against his pants.

there was a pause that you noted, because what exactly could you say, here? what exactly could you do?

could you say hey, matt and bobby, i don't know how you know joseph, but i made out with him in the bathroom of a ren faire tavern and haven't stopped thinking about him since?

probably not.

instead, you just smiled, asked matt and bobby how their summers were. they had been in the theatre band since sophomore year, so you were familiar with them, at least enough to know what place matt was talking about when he mentioned his vacation home and who bobby was referring to when he mentioned his buddies on the team (the both of them were on the club hockey team at school).

matt clapped a heavy hand on joseph's shoulder. "woller's on the team with us," he explained, "convinced him to fill the piano void we had after the seniors graduated."

you hummed, turned your gaze back to joseph, relished in the endearing awkwardness you found. "joey and i have met, actually," you said.

bobby shrugged. "you go to the same school, not all that surprising."

it was sort of funny, now that you thought of it, that in three years, you hadn't crossed paths with joseph one time. not once did he catch your attention in the dining hall, not once did he drop a pen in your vicinity during a lecture, never did he accidentally bump into you between classes.

you'd gone three years without seeing those blue eyes, and since that chance encounter, you hadn't stopped thinking about them.

matt seemed to be more perceptive than bobby, though, giving a slight nod in understanding. "we'll leave you to catch up, then," he said, grabbing his backpack, tossing bobby his. "see you 'round, guys."

then the auditorium was empty, except for you and joseph. like a universe that existed only for the two of you. the high ceilings seemed barely suitable to fit the mass of emotion you felt.

you kept a safe step's distance. "hi, joey," you said, softer than you meant.

his eyes shimmered at your voice, at the nickname. "hi, trouble," he said, in that tone that felt like winter sunlight, "how are you?"

of course he would ask that, hands shoved into his pockets, of course he would ask that and really mean it, really care.

"'m good," you said. "really good, now. didn't know 'f i'd see you again."

he hummed, and it felt like power, to know that you both were thinking about the last time, to know for certain he was thinking of you, pushing him up against a door.

"how are you?" you reciprocated, leaning back on your heels.

he thought for a moment, the pause fat with nostalgia, ripe with promise. "pretty nervous, if 'm honest," he told you, looked down.

you couldn't hide your delight. "like you honest," you told him, and his blush deepened. he wanted to meet your gaze, so badly, you could tell, but it was almost like he didn't trust himself to, like he might get caught there forever.

he gave a breathy sort of laugh. it made your head spin.

you stepped closer to him, which tore his eyes up to yours. his chest heaved in what might have been a relieved sigh. "do your friends know?" you asked, and your voice had grown husky, softer, only for him.

he shook his head, his eyes welling up with genuine truth, like he would never. "no," he said.

"really?" you asked, cocked your head. "don't kiss and tell, joey?"

his ears bloomed pink, like the word kiss was some kind of curse, like all of it was too much to hear aloud. it had you almost regretting saying it. almost.

when he spoke, his voice cracked, slightly. "no, uh, can't say i do, sweetheart." he said.

you gave him a smile that curled with smokiness. "did you just wanna keep it to yourself, then?" you asked, let your gaze grow hooded. "maybe keep me to yourself?"

his breathing was heavier, and he was so close, and all you wanted to do was kiss him again, knead your knuckles into that stiff neck, feel him against you, but you didn't.

you didn't and then he spoke again. it was breathy, wavering. "think, maybe, uh, we should," he started, "think we should just be, uh, friends, sweetheart."

and you could have been disappointed, offended, even, but you weren't. you just took a small step back, smiled at him gently. let his words settle. "do you, joey?"

he gave a slight nod. "yeah, um, just 'cause of the show, and we'll be working closely, and such," he said. "for the sake of the show." something permissive and almost regretful, something practically compunctious flooded his bright, blue eyes, the way oil sullies a warm ocean gulf.

"thank god we have a pianist so dedicated to the production, then," you said, eyes wide, watched him blush further. "we should probably exchange numbers, then," you continued, "so we can do things that friends do."

he cleared his throat, nodded, entered his information into the phone you offered him. "it'll be good," he said, but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you.

"it'll be so, so good," you amended, retreating, now walking towards the exit. "i promise, joey, 'll make it so good, for you."

for the second time, you left him, blushing, disheveled, this time with much more hope in your heart.

"so, did you talk to him?" jenny asked you over lunch the next day.

"and can you get him to talk to bobby about me?" benji asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"yes, and no," you said, making benji pout.

jenny stamped her feet under the table in fast succession. "so, what did you say? what did he say?"

you shrugged. "he said we should be just friends." it even sounded funny coming out of your mouth.

benji winced. "ouch," he said, blowing out a breath.

"i don't get it," jenny said, appearing genuinely confused.

"said it was for the good of the production, or something," you said.

"what a load of bullshit," jenny said, now almost angry.

you shrugged again.

"why aren't you upset?" benji asked, skeptical. "in all the time i've known you, you haven't been friendzoned once. it can't feel good to be slummin' it with the rest of us."

you laughed. "i'm not upset because i know he doesn't want to be friends, he just thinks it's the right thing to do."

"what's the difference?" jenny said, "regardless, he set his terms."

"and i'll be respectful of them," you said, and you meant it. you were not one to break hard-set boundaries, to act in a forceful or disrespectful way. "i'm a great friend."

benji narrowed his eyes. "so, you're just gonna be totally platonic with this guy?"

you nodded, leaned back in your seat.

"just friends with the only guy i've ever seen you think twice about?" jenny clarified.

"exactly," you reiterated. "just friends, nothing more." your mouth quirked. "until he inevitably decides otherwise."

benji rolled his eyes. "of course," he said, almost bitter. "the elusive long game."

"won't be that long," you corrected.

"how can you be so sure?"

you smiled at the memory. "his eyes," you said, honestly, almost guiltily. "bit of a dead giveaway."

joseph had declared you just friends, so that's what you would be, for the time being. you trusted he would come to his own conclusions as time passed, so you figured there really wasn't any reason to rush things. there were much worse things than being friends with a very kind person.

so you texted him the next morning, sent him a hey :) it's your favorite new friend, followed by your name, followed by a what're you doing later?

and of course he was a prompt responder, getting back to you in a matter of minutes. a Good Morning, Sweetheart, followed by a We have practice until 6:30, but I'm free after that. What did you have in mind?

his texts read a bit awkward and stiff, in all of their grammatical correctness, but it made you sigh, because what was he, if not a little awkward and stiff?

wanna study at my place? you sent, followed by i could walk you back from practice.

I'd like that. was his response, followed by Just to clarify, you mean actually study, right? That wasn't an innuendo?

now he had you smiling at your phone. get your head outta the gutter joey you texted, followed by just to study, followed by pinkie promise.

you could picture his blush as if you wear standing in front of him.

See you at 6:30, Trouble, was his last response.

you sort of thought it was funny that he called you that, and maybe it should have been a little offensive, because maybe you were tired of being associated with that kind of negativity. maybe you were tired of coming with a warning label, tired of feeling like all anyone saw when they looked at you was a pretty face wrapped up in red flags.

what was funnier, you supposed, was that you didn't mind it when he called you that. you didn't mind it because there was something you liked about being trouble to him, in particular. you liked being his sweetheart, probably more than you would admit to yourself, but there was something addictive about being important enough, singular enough, powerful enough to be deemed trouble by a person like him.

a person who just oozed with goodness, with righteousness, without any of the arrogance so typically marring the quality, a person whose smile leaked sunshine, who was distinct in their genuineness, whose honesty and kindness you swore you could taste, the way marshmallow fluff sticks to your teeth, grainy and sweet.

maybe you didn't love being trouble, but perhaps you didn't mind being his trouble.

that was the sentiment at the forefront of your mind as you entered the ice rink that the club team practiced at, a few minutes early, let the chillier air cool your face.

the last of the team was on the ice, just a few bodies picking up pucks and cones. you scanned the ice, didn't spot his distinct profile, so you just took a seat in the bleachers, enjoyed the rare moment of quiet, breathing in and out.

a quiet thudding noise drew your attention to the glass, where matt and bobby were waving you down. you hopped down from the bleachers while bobby opened the door to the ice, which made a heavy clanging sound.

"hey, guys," you said, now standing in front of them.

"you missed the fun part," bobby said. you had to crane your neck to look at them. they were taller in skates, a little more intimidating in full hockey pads than when they were goofing off in the pit of the theatre.

you laughed good-naturedly. "not here to watch you trick pucks off the crossbar," you said.

matt laughed. "why are you here, then?" he said.

you didn't quite answer, sucked on your teeth for a second. "where's joey?" you asked, instead.

bobby rolled his eyes.

matt just nodded towards the other end of the ice. "i'll tell him you're here," he said, skated away.

your eyes followed him, then widened. "he's a goalie?" you asked bobby. you tracked the big number sixty on the back of the jersey, the slow, deliberate skating motions, the posture you recognized.

"yeah, why?" bobby asked.

"i don't know," you said, "forgot that was even a position."

"it's the position for freaks," he clarified, leaning against the boards.

you scrunched up your face. but, you supposed, you had never met anyone quite like joseph. perhaps that made him a freak, to some degree.

matt skated back over and told bobby they had to get off the ice for the zamboni, telling you that joseph said he'd meet you by the exit.

you hadn't been waiting for five minutes before the three of them emerged from the locker room, holding water bottles and backpacks. your eyes, however, snagged on joseph like a thread on a nail, didn't leave. he looked too pretty like this, damp hair curling at the ends, face flushed with exertion and cold, his body visibly tired but also more relaxed than you'd seen him.

your throat went dry when he smiled at you. "hey, sweetheart," he said, easy.

"hi," you responded, clasped your hands behind your back, scared, if left to their own devices, they'd reach up and push that rogue curl from his forehead.

"where're you guys headed?" matt asked you as you pushed the doors open into the dusky night.

"mine," you said, not thinking anything of it, because it was the truth, because there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

then you saw the blush that tinted joseph's nose, dainty, but there. maybe it had sounded a little suggestive, but you had nothing to apologize for, and his reaction sort of hurt your feelings, for some reason.

you both said goodbye to matt and bobby, who were headed off to the dining hall, and continued on the walk to your apartment. "are you embarrassed?" you asked, not harshly, just truthfully. because it mattered.

it mattered if he thought you were the kind of person it was embarrassing to go home with. it mattered if he thought there was some kind of reputation with you that would become his through association.

it mattered if he thought you were an embarrassing kind of trouble, instead of a beautiful kind.

he didn't answer for a second, exhaled, and you squinted. "are you embarrassed of me?" you amended.

his gaze shot to yours, eyes flooded with concern, genuine worry. "what? no," he promised, "no, sweetheart, of course not of you."

and this made you feel better, a little. "what of, then?" you asked, in step besides his large frame.

a pause settled in the space between his hip and your waist, side by side, stride by stride.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "it's just that," he started, took a breath, then started again. "i know it must seem weird to you, how flustered i get." you wanted to cut him off, correct him, but mostly you wanted him to continue. "'m not as comfortable as you, as confident."

"it's not weird," you promised, "i like how flustered you get. i like your blush." your fingers twitched. "i can try to dial it back, if it'd make you feel better. i can try to be, i don't know, less-"

he did cut you off, then. "no," he said, his voice breaking, only a bit. "don't, uh, change." he cleared his throat, squeezed his plastic water bottle, making it crinkle. "please."

you stared at the side of his face, for a second, any words dying in your throat. "really? aren't you scared 'll bring you over to the dark side, joey?" you said it like a joke, but it wasn't, not really. "aren't you scared i'll turn you bad?"

he looked at you, then, big blue eyes drunk with truth. "'m not scared of you, trouble," was all he said, and that was that.

you showed him up to your apartment, gave him a short tour.

"where do you usually do homework?" he asked, gentle.

"bedroom floor," you said, almost sheepish. "floor's the best place for critical thinking."

he laughed, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. "lead the way, then," he said.

so you sat with him, on the floor of your bedroom, for a couple hours, until the night made time feel viscous and thick, until your throat was rough from lack of use, until your eyelids felt heavy.

hours of you, doing physics problem sets, and him, finishing history readings. hours of work that were made comfortable, sleepy, by the shared presence of each other, of exhales and warmth and shifting limbs.

hours of work cut with questions about his day, about your classes, about him playing the piano, about your friendship with jenny, about his with bobby and matt, about your mom and his siblings and your design dreams and his uncertain ones.

before long it was past midnight, and you felt your eyes lingering too long on his full mouth, and his gaze felt too honey-sweet on your face. before long, it was time for him to go, before the late hour made you want to see just how far you could push just friends.

out of respect, though, and because you cared about him, at some point, you cleared your throat.

"i should probably go to sleep, soon," you said, a rasp to your voice.

he made to grab his things, pushed his massive body up from your floor. "me too," he said. "'s getting late."

he swung his backpack onto his shoulder and you walked him to the door. he opened it, turned back around, leaned against the frame, facing you.

he looked down at you, and your heart surged, your mind clouded with deja vu. "do you still have your tiara?" you asked, nodding up to his head.

his lips split into a smile as he gave a rough, low laugh. "yeah, sweetheart," he said, his eyes growing foggy with memory. "that's, uh, a keeper."

and it probably wasn't how he meant it, but it almost felt like he was saying you were a keeper, and no one had ever thought that before. you squeezed your hand into a fist. "remember when you said you were a boring prince?"

he nodded.

it took every inch of your discipline not to touch him, hug him, tug him down by his shirt and kiss him dumb. "you're not boring, joey," you said.

he swallowed, his eyes welling up with meaning. "how can you be so sure?" he asked, soft.

"you can't be," you explained, "or i would've been able to stop thinking about you."

his hooded gaze caught on your lips, and it would have been so easy to push up on your toes, slot your mouth against his, but you didn't.

his simmering eyes met yours again. "goodnight, sweetheart," he breathed.

"goodnight," you said, your smile fluttery, shutting the door gently behind him.

and so began the most confusing friendship of your life.

the semester progressed quickly, the pace constantly being pushed by your busy schedule. your days seemed to pass in a blink, filled by classes and exams and rehearsals and theatre commitments, fittings and design meetings and movie nights with jenny, lunches with benji.

jenny's juliet grew more and more compelling, benji grew more and more annoyed with his set crew.

the more time passed, the more frequently you were making plans with joseph, until he just became a part of your schedule. two days a week, you would study at your place, a different two days, you would go to his, instead.

he lived with some guys from the team, so the kitchen was a bit messy, and the decor was seriously lacking, but his room was spotlessly clean, actually sort of comfortable, so you didn't mind. he had a desk, but you had convinced him of the magic of the floor, so the floors of your respective bedrooms had become something of a safe place, a tall, tall tower, away from everything else, away from reality.

you came to find that there was absolutely nothing more comfortable than the warm silence that settled between the two of you like a glittery fog when you'd both get into a working groove, perhaps not talking for stretches of time, but the presence of each other easy enough to fall asleep in.

here and there, one of you would slice through the silence like a warm knife through salted butter, asking about something that had happened that morning, or practice, or rehearsal, or something.

he'd ask how your exam went, and his gaze would melt a bit when you'd gush about how you knew you nailed it.

"that's great, sweetheart," he'd say, his posture more relaxed in the nighttime drowsiness. "'m so proud of you."

maybe you'd ask how the game last weekend went, and his nose would twitch, just a bit.

he'd shrug, and the muscles in his neck would clench, and you'd want nothing more than to ease the tension there with your fingers. "fine," he'd say. "could've been better."

and you'd roll your eyes. "you always think you could've been better," you'd say, and it would be true. you had come to understand that he was a real perfectionist when it came to hockey.

he'd smile, lopsided, and your stomach would flip. "'cause i always could be," he'd say, and it would make you frown.

"i don't know," you'd say, the words coming out slow, like molten chocolate. you'd meet his lazy gaze. "don't think it gets much better than you."

nights of studying and walking him back from practice, days during which, when you were lucky, you could sneak a coffee break with him, began to feel normal, but not in the sense that you didn't feel especially grateful every time you saw him. you couldn't imagine an instance that his eyes wouldn't make your knees wobble, that his voice wouldn't make your heart jolt, a time when making him blush wouldn't feel like a triumph, when making him laugh wouldn't pull the most genuine smile from your own mouth.

you felt as if he'd been an abrupt reset to your whole system, ever since that dusky summer kiss against a door, like a startling ice bath to your entire being. for him, though, you didn't imagine your presence to be as shocking, instead more gradual, like your attention, your thinly-veiled attraction was like ivy, slowly overtaking an old brick building.

miraculously, for weeks and weeks, you kept your hands to yourself. sure, there was the occasional hug goodbye, which typically left you speechless, the more frequent touch of a hand here and there, over a glass of water or across a spread of notebooks. once, and only once, there was a firm arm around your waist, the time when you slipped while walking next to him, his quick reflexes meaning his arm shot out to wrap around you, pulling you back upright in a single motion.

you tried your best not to lean into his embrace, mentally applauded yourself for a job well done. "thanks for that," you said, clearing your throat.

he didn't let go of you immediately though, his hand lingering on your waist for a split second, his gaze shadowy, like in a trance.

"joey," you said, and it came out like a plea, because he couldn't touch you, not like this. it wasn't fair, and you were being so good. "don't do this to me."

that snapped him out of his daze, as he gently retracted his arm, settled it unnaturally next to his side, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with it, now that his palm had laid flat against your hip. what do you do with something sacred? "sorry, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was rough.

for the first time, though, you realized, with narrowing eyes, you got the sense that he was lying to you. that he wasn't actually sorry, not at all.

then there was the time that he showed up at your place unannounced, on a day when you hadn't made plans. "coming," you'd yelled out in response to a knock, fresh out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around you. you opened the door, almost yelped when you saw him in the frame, looking straight out of a fairytale with his hair in his face.

of course, he blushed, looked down when he registered your appearance, clicked his tongue as you held your towel tighter around you. "d'you, uh," he said, "do you always answer the door like this?"

you could have laughed at his gentle humor, despite him being so obviously flustered. "only for you, joey," you said, winking at him, making him go red, which made your smile grow as you swung the door open wider, wordlessly inviting him inside. "kidding. one sec, let me get dressed."

eventually, matt and bobby got used to your presence in their kitchen, in the bleachers of the rink. you met their fourth roommate, a tall, lanky defenseman you mistakenly called simon the first time you met him.

"not si-mon," he corrected, "si-mone."

"like the girl's name," bobby said, trying to help, to which simon whacked him on the back of the head.

"aren't athletes supposed to eat healthy?" you asked one time, when you were steeping one of the tea bags you had begun to keep at joseph's place, just for convenience's sake. you had walked in on matt, bobby, and simon making ice cream sundaes.

matt just waved you off. "it's different for club," he said.

bobby scowled. "last i checked, you don't pay rent here," he said, "no rent, no opinion."

"yeah," simon said, his accent slight as he put the ice cream carton back into the freezer. "why don't you go back to your own house?"

"because i'm studying," you said, to which you were on the receiving end of a chorus of groans.

"swear you guys are practically married," matt said. "remember when i walked in on you putting that gray shit on his face?"

you rolled your eyes. "that was a face mask, and it's good for your pores."

"he has you over here more in a week than my girl has been here in a month," simon continued.

you scoffed. "maybe you should fix that, then," you told him. "nothing to do with me. me and your roommate are just-"

"don't finish that sentence," bobby said, "for my sanity, don't do it."

"what's going on out here?" came that deep voice from behind you.

"nothing," simon said, "your girl called us athletes, though."

simon's wording had you almost sad, about to correct him, but something in you stopped. because was it really all that much of a lie? joseph didn't correct him, either, which had to count for something. had to mean something.

"bein' nice, trouble?" joseph asked, a lazy smile on his face.

"you know me," you said, to which his eyes shimmered. because he did, because it was true.

you could almost hear bobby's eye roll. "we'll see you at rehearsal tomorrow," he said on his way back to his room.

as opening night grew impossibly close, your path began to cross with joseph's more in the theatre, too.

as you'd get final measurements in, make some last minute adjustments to skirt lengths and blouse widths, you'd hear that telltale melody from the pit, so smooth it'd put a smile on your face.

once, you were doing a final check of jenny's costume, the last one she would wear before curtain close, and the music began.

jenny's grin grew teasing. "such a sap, now," she said.

"don't," you warned, "i'm the one with all the pins."

she put her hands up in surrender. "not a bad thing," she said, "it's really cute, actually. just can't believe you've lasted this long."

you sighed. "that makes the two of us."

benji popped in from the wing. "so proud of you," he said, "but one of you needs to do something. it's actually painful."

it was sort of crazy, you realized, to be anything but completely grateful and satisfied with being one of joseph's closest friends. it was a privilege, you knew that. it just kind of made you wish you'd never kissed him in the first place, that you didn't know what he felt like, sounded like, tasted like. you could be so completely content if you didn't know that.

"dude, you sound like a dying cat." you recognized matt's voice, assumed he was talking to bobby. "opening night's in two days."

you could picture bobby's disinterested shrug.

benji took this opportunity to walk all the way out onto the stage, clear his throat. "i think you sound great, bobby," he said.

there was a pause. "uh, thanks, man," was the short reply. "what was your name again?"

you winced. jenny shuttered. "brutal," she whispered.

"bob, you know benji," joseph said from the piano bench, ever the polite diplomat. "he paints all the sets."

bobby looked around, took in the castles and gardens that benji had worked so hard on. "you did these?" he asked. benji nodded. "pretty sick, dude," he said, impressed.

jenny put a hand over her heart. "oh, benji, you're so talented and handsome," she said, loudly, drawing everyone's attention.

benji rolled his eyes. "oh, fuck off, jen."

you caught joseph's gaze across the space, him at the piano, you bent down, fussing with jenny's hem.

hi, he mouthed, and your heart stirred.

hi, you mouthed back.

because of the packed and overlapping theatre schedule, you became closely acquainted with the way joseph played the piano, nothing like matt's violent percussion or bobby's novice-at-best guitar abilities. he played with a gentle intensity, a passionate perfectionism, which you supposed was just the way that he was.

you swore you could watch him get caught up in the notes, could follow the deft movements of his hands for hours and not get bored, because he wouldn't get bored.

finally, it was the day before opening night, and after completing the whole last minute checklist as well as all the department's traditions and superstitions, you went back to your workspace for just a second to triple check everything. you wanted everything to go smoothly tomorrow, no surprises. a few minutes into your last checks, though, there was a soft knock on your open door.

you looked up to find a tired pair of big blue eyes. "what're you doing here?" you asked, gentle. "look like you're about to fall asleep, joey."

he shook his head. "wide awake," he said, and he sounded it. "know it's a late night, but it's still thursday. i understand if you wanted to skip tonight, but-"

you waved him off, lugged your bag onto your shoulder. "yeah, right," you said. "not gettin' rid of me that easy."

he smiled, held the door open for you as you passed him, as you both began the walk to his place. the air was chilly, refreshing, but you shivered, nonetheless.

"cold?" he asked, and you nodded, to which he started to unbutton his shirt.

"what're you doing?" you said, and you couldn't help the shocked sort of tone your voice had taken on.

he gave a light laugh, handed you his button down, revealing a t-shirt underneath. he looked at you, almost guiltily, eyes a bit dark, as you shrugged your bag off, put his shirt on, then your backpack. "'m always prepared," he said.

"thank you," you said, and it looked like the words warmed him from the inside out. you figured, maybe, you'd push your luck. "god forbid you show a little skin."

the silence rumbled. it was dark, but it was as if you could feel the heat of his blush, felt it on your own face like a creamy foundation. "easy, trouble," he said, and it was quiet, hoarse.

soon enough he was holding the door of his apartment open, as he had so many times before, then he was leading you into his bedroom, but it felt so different, for some reason, so much heavier, harder, more heated.

you took your spot on the floor, spread out your notes, planning to get a little bit of studying done, as you knew you wouldn't finish any schoolwork tomorrow, with all the running around you were going to be doing. he took his spot across from you, maybe a little bit closer, which you pretended not to notice.

time passed as it usually did, in this situation, at this hour, in his company.

but then you'd catch him looking at you, feel it like a blistering singe, would look up to meet his gaze, only to find it back down on his homework, like the movement of your head was enough to scare him back into routine.

and then it happened again, and he wasn't even looking at your face, this time, he was staring at your middle, your body, which he never did, and you wanted to throw something at him, tell him to stop, please, because you couldn't handle it. his longing was too much to take, the way it was seeping through the walls like a aphrodisiac. if it was a challenge to keep your hands to yourself under normal circumstances, it was almost impossible, now, when he was hiding his want so poorly, almost like he wasn't trying to hide it at all.

the third time it happened, you cleared your throat. it was making you sort of nervous, and it was definitely getting your hopes up. "you starin' at me, joey?" you asked, not accusatory.

"sorry," he said, immediately, didn't meet your eyes.

you tilted your head. "that's the second time you've done that," you observed.

he looked up, at that. "what?"

"that's the second time you've lied to me about being sorry."

he swallowed, and your eyes tracked the motion. his flush was that of guilt, maybe a dull sort of shame.

"why're you embarrassed?" you asked, shifting a bit closer to him. "you're allowed to look at me, you know."

his blue eyes swam with promise as he let out what looked like a soft sigh of relief. "i am?" he asked.

you nodded, felt a little mean. maybe it was the fact that it had been months since his lips had been on yours, and the memory still sparked a fire inside of you. maybe it was the fact that you'd been so patient, maybe it was that you had a feeling the sight of you in his button-down, a little tight in the chest and by the hips, was making his throat dry. "you're allowed, joey, because we're such good friends."

something like a grunt rumbled in his throat, involuntary, and you squinted at him. you were right in front of him, now, sitting on your heels, watching his indecision weigh on him like a boulder between his shoulder blades.

"what?" you asked, the picture of innocence. "what's wrong?"

"nothing, sweetheart," he said, breathy, "nothing's wrong, it's just that-"

"what?" you pushed.

he didn't continue, just swallowed around his words, rested his elbows on his bent knees, notebooks strewn to the side.

you gave a little pout, leaned forward, so close, now, you could see the faint gold in the blue of his eyes. "don't like being my friend, joey?"

"no, i do-" he rushed, but you cut him off again.

"'ve been so good," you said, because it was true, "and you're being mean."

this seemed to sober him up, to turn his words to steel, steady and honest. this seemed to tap into a well of confidence you didn't even know he possessed, because he leaned forward, too, reached a broad hand out, brushed his thumb against your cheekbone, making your breath catch in your throat.

"i like being your friend," he said, and the words were like a soothing balm to your scorched reputation. then his gaze rippled with heat, and you remembered how you had gotten that reputation in the first place. he gave you a knowing sort of look. "but i want to kiss you, sweetheart. so badly."

you could have cried with relief, could have slapped him in the face for taking so long, could have made him wait a little bit longer just to be cruel, but instead, you just wrapped your arms around his neck, shifted forward, let him make space for you until your knees straddled his hips.

it felt like something religious that he was the one that pulled you closer, by your hips, that he was the one to dip his head down and meet you in a kiss that felt, simultaneously, like opening a door marked do not enter and finally, finally, coming home.

you tugged lightly at his hair, just wanting him closer, just wanting him as close as you could get him. his grip on one of your hips grew firm, confident, as the other hand splayed out on the side of your face, rough and warm.

you sighed into his mouth, because he tasted like how you remembered, like cool mint, and because he smelled so good, and because you felt so perfect, so safe.

his teeth knocked against yours, and his rhythm was off, and you had the feeling he was holding back, a little, but all of that was so him, was exactly the imperfect kiss you had been fixating on, but this time with the added passion of knowing him so genuinely, so deeply.

you dug a knuckle into his neck, worked at the knots under your touch. your movements grew slow, languished, lazy, as you softly rocked your hips against him, relished in the groan you pulled from him, making you pull away, just a little, feel him breathe heavy against you, his eyelids heavy. "so stiff, joey," you said, "relax for me, yeah?"

"yeah." he nodded, whined, slightly, when you shifted back and forth again. when his eyes caught yours again, there was something new there, a deeper desire, a question.

you leaned forwards, pressed your mouth messily to his jaw, down his neck. "just ask me," you said, between kisses, "you're allowed, baby, just ask me."

his voice was dazed, like it was hard to focus with your lips on his neck, with you grinding against him. you could feel him, firm and hard, underneath you. "just need," he tried, "just need something, sweetheart, please."

you pulled back, slightly, rested your cheek on his shoulder, giving you both a moment to catch your breath. "don't wanna rush you," you said into his collarbone, because you meant it, because it was important. "but 'll give you anything you want."

it felt so odd to even have to say that, because it seemed that everyone you'd been with, before, had already assumed this of you, that of course you'd give them anything, everything, because you were you, with that face, with that flirtatious smile, with that history.

it felt so lovely, to feel compelled to have to clarify that for him. because of course you would give him anything, everything, every single part of yourself, if he'd only ask.

he clasped his hands behind your back, exhaled slowly. "thank you," he whispered, and it broke your heart into a million pieces. when was the last time someone had thanked you for offering yourself up, like this? why did it almost make you want to cry?

"what do you want, baby?" you asked, running your nails along his neck, after his words had hardened around your heart like crystal, somehow still silken-soft. "will you let me make you feel good, hm? can i?"

you felt him take a deep breath against your chest. "please, sweetheart," he rasped. "please, need you, so bad."

"yeah?" you asked, shifting up and off of him, now kneeling beside his lap. "can i touch you?"

he nodded, and the heat in his eyes burned you. "please."

you reached a delicate hand forward, palmed his cock over his clothes, gentle, found him so hard and hot, while he hissed at first contact. "makin' me wait so long, baby, and you've been needin' me, too?" you teased, a soft grin on your swollen lips as you pulled him out fully, ran your hand along the length of him.

"'m sorry, sweetheart," he breathed, and it seemed funny, apologizing, then. "just wanted t'do the right thing."

you hummed, pumped him up and down, slowly, spit onto his length, kept going. "right thing, hm?" he nodded. "didn't feel right to me, baby," you said, picking up your pace, your grip wet and firm. he huffed, and his thighs tensed. "know what feels right?"

"what?" he asked, eyes pleading, practically spellbound by you, your steady stream of words, so different from him, rendered basically speechless.

"your cock in my hand," you answered, and of all things, he blushed. you bit your lip, because you had a feeling your word choice was the reason. you were pretty sure that, despite the circumstances, the thing that had your clean-tongued prince flustered was your dirty mouth. you pulled your touch away, let his eager hands help you out of his button down, your shirt underneath.

when you looked at him again, he was looking at you, already, with a galaxy in his eyes.

"what?" you asked, your mouth quirking up.

he laughed, lightly, shook his head. "just so pretty, sweetheart," he said, "just so, so pretty."

you scrunched up your face, but didn't hide your delighted smile as you went to kiss him on the jaw, hoisting your leg up and over him until you hovered above his lap. "pretty enough to fuck?" you asked, against his neck, right by his ear, and you smiled at the jolt of his hips, the shake of his breath. "tell me."

his hand braced the back of your neck, gave the softest rumble of a laugh, like whatever he was about to say was above him, like it was incomprehensible. "can i fuck you, trouble?" he asked, and you laughed, too, because the curse sounded so foreign on his lips.

it was something lovely to be laughing, with someone you trusted wholly, like this. with someone who thought, all that time ago, that you were a princess.

"watch your mouth, joey," you teased, giving him a false look of depravity as you reached under you, gripped him again, angled his cock to your core.

"such a," he began, his breath hitching when you began to sink down on him, "such a bad influence."

you groaned at the stretch as you pushed yourself down further, felt the burn of it in your throat, in your toes. you sucked on your teeth, had to close your eyes for a second as you clung to his neck for support.

finally, all the way in, you stayed still for a moment, adjusting, letting him adjust to you.

"this okay?" you whispered into his shoulder.

there was a pause. "you're perfect," he said, so genuinely it hurt. "feel so good, sweetheart."

you smiled. "can i move, baby?" he surprised you, then, answering you by gripping you harder and angling his hips up into you, slow and deep. you groaned at the sensation, fluttering in your stomach. "so good, joey," you breathed, then smiled, your tone turning devious when his other hand rooted in your hair, hard, steady. "fast learner, hm?" you asked, "already know what i like?"

his pace stuttered, but you met him thrust for thrust, up and down. "show me," he said, almost whiny, a slight sheen on the high points of his face, a flush on his neck and nose. "show me what you like, sweetheart." his eyes flooded with meaning. "want this t'be good for you, hm?"

your chest could have cracked open, because you couldn't remember the last time someone had wanted that, never mind voiced it to you. who would you be to deny him that?

you kissed his shoulder, showed him just how hard to tug at your hair. "you're so good to me, baby," you said, "too good to me, yeah?" you placed your palm over his hand, on your hip, moved it to your clit, showed him how to touch you. the friction made you clench around him, forcing a whimper from your mouth, a throaty groan from his as you both picked up your pace.

time didn't feel real, you supposed it never had, in this room. it had seemed irrelevant when you were working on mechanics problems for physics while he drafted papers for eastern european history, and it seemed irrelevant now, too.

for seconds or minutes or months, you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer, heat building inside of you as his thrusts grew jerky, as his breathing heaved, as the friction of his hand against your clit made you delirious.

your thighs felt hot with exertion as you moaned. "gonna make me cum, joey," you said, at some point, dreamy, "so deep inside of me, baby, feel you here." you placed a palm on your lower stomach to show him, pushed down, relished in the pressurized sensation.

"'m so close," he breathed, "so perfect, sweetheart, right there."

"fuck, let me have it," you pleaded, so warm and wet around him. "want it so bad, baby, let me feel you. let me take it."

he came apart at your words, his muscles tensing abruptly under your palms as his orgasm triggered your own, so sudden and staggering you swore your teeth were chattering. your head collapsed onto his shoulder as your eyes squeezed shut and he wrapped his arms around your back, holding you tight against his chest.

his shoulder was just barely damp with sweat under your cheek, and the air felt humid, heavy, like you could cup it in a palm.

when you opened your eyes, your flighty gaze caught on something shiny, just next to his desk, which had been taken over with completed lego sets. hanging on his open closet door was his tiara, you realized, from all those months ago. from before all the friendship and pining and making kingdoms out of bedroom floors.

it was sort of funny, how something like a cheap plastic crown could mean so much. if he hadn't worn it, what then? would any of this have even happened? if you hadn't reached up to straighten him out? hadn't made some joke about not being able to?

you laughed into him, and you could hear his smile. "what?" he rasped, making you look up at him. he looked straight out of a classical art museum, some kind of angel in acrylic, painted by a god-fearing sinner, all blushy cheeks and big, forgiving eyes, corded shoulders and lips wet with spit.

you massaged the back of his shoulders with a careful hand. "remember when you thought i was a princess?" you mused, the memory at the front of your mind.

"'course," he said. "most beautiful girl i'd ever seen."

you closed your eyes, exhaled, opened them again. "i was dressed as a wench," you said, but the joking tone you'd aimed for sounded dumb, following his honest confession.

he just smiled, a sliver of perfect teeth through pink lips. "don't know, trouble," he said, "pretty sure i know i princess when i see one. i was a prince, after all."

you hit him lightly on the chest, laughed. "i guess you know what you're talking about then, hm?"

he hummed. "oh, yeah," he confirmed, rubbing circles with his thumb into your lower back, "'specially when i'm talking about you."

and you thought, for the first time in a while, that maybe, to have someone talk about you wouldn't be a bad thing. that, perhaps, to have this somebody talk about you would be something quite special.

tomorrow, it would be daylight, and it would be busy, and the world would speed up again. tomorrow, benji would be late, of course, and bobby would mess up the chords to the interlude, and jenny would absolutely nail her first lead role. tomorrow, matt and simon would make a bunch of crude jokes and benji's freshman would give him a fruit basket to thank him for his leadership, and the theatre director would cry, because of how wonderful the production went.

tomorrow, a lot would happen.

but, tonight, there was just the boring prince of legos and piano keys, holding the unbecoming princess of bedpost notches and pleats. tonight, they resided over the kingdom of bad influence and embarrassed flushes.

and tonight, the kingdom was finally quiet.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #smut #nhl smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #joseph woll #toronto maple leafs #maple leafs #matthew knies #joseph woll imagine #joseph woll x reader #joseph woll smut #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews #auston matthews smut

[goldsainz]

FRIENDS INTO LOVERS — one shot.

pairing: lando norris x reader

MASTERLIST.

request: “Hi, could I request a childhood sweethearts with lando please and thank you 🫶🫶”

NOTE: so i did a social media au for this, hope that it's okay! let's pretend for the sake of the story's timeline that olivia is slightly older 😁 i changed the request format thingy bc the gap it left bothered me… if you check my other requested works you’ll know what i mean

liked by mickschumacher, conangray and 301,796 others

lando.jpg Day 61. Road trip with the one and only yourusername

view all 4,527 comments

yoursername my passenger princess <3

⤷ lando.jpg 😐😐😐

⤷ danielricciardo Don't even try to deny it

landofan1 literally love y/n sm

landofan2 i want a friendship like theirs

ynfan1 LANDO BEING A PASSENGER PRINCESS IS NOW CANON

liked by yoursername and 8,139 others

user1 when are they gonna get together!!!

maxfewtrell Still can’t believe I wasn’t invited🙄

⤷ yourusername this wouldn’t happen if you had other friends!

⤷ maxfewtrell Rude! I’m gonna tell Lando about this.

liked by landonorris, irisapatow and 2,643,197 others

yourusername All Of The Girls You Loved Before is out now in all streaming platforms!!! 💗

view all 39,648 comments

landonorris So so proud of you! Everyone will get sick of me playing this all the time

⤷ yourusername you’re fr my #1 fan

⤷ landonorris And what about it? 🤨

landofan21 this 100% about lando no doubt about it

oscarpiastri New song for the McLaren playlist

liked by yourusername and 17,923 others

ynfan21 if this isn’t a confirmation post + the comments… then idk what is

ynfan22 “i wanna teach you how forever feels” when will it be my turn😭

landofan22 THE BEHIND THE SONG INTERVIEW??? if this song isn’t about lando idk what’ll do…

⤷ user21 what did she say?

⤷ landofan22 “It’s about loving someone so much you don’t really care that they’ve been with someone before you, just feeling grateful you’re getting the best version of them.” that is so about lando idc what anyone says

⤷ ynfan23 don’t forget about: “I wrote it thinking about how maybe there’s someone that’s always kind of been there, and you didn’t notice or the timing wasn’t right, but now that it is you don’t think about anything else other then them.”

liked by carlossainz55, team_quadrant and 1,857,426 others

landonorris May I introduce my lovely girlfriend, Y/N! She’s been my friendfor more years than I can remember (17 if we’re being precise) and there is no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. Thank you, for being my best friend all this time and letting me love you ❤️

view all 27,861 comments

ynfan31 OMG??? I WASN’T EXPECTING THIS TODAY

sebastianvettel Congrats you two! Nice to see you both finally came to your senses

⤷ landonorris Thank you, Seb!

⤷ yourusername 🫶🫶🫶

landofan31 i’m gonna need 3-5 business days to recover

landofan32 THAT TWITTER USER WAS RIGHT???

ynfan32 words can’t describe how i’m feeling rn

mickschumacher Glad I don’t have to keep this a secret anymore!!!

⤷ maxfewtrell Same here, mate! It was killing me

ynfan33 all this time they were together😭😭

user31 love is actually real

liked by pierregasly, jackchampion and 2,903,645 others

yourusername i guess hard launching is the only way! i’ve loved this man for more years than i’d like to admit, as a friend and now as my boyfriend!! wherever you stray, i follow 🤍 (shoutout to user3 on twitter your thread was scarily spot on)

view all 43,554 comments

landofan41 the willow lyrics😭😭

ynfan41 your honour i love them

lilymhe you’re still my wife, right?

⤷ yourusername forever and always, baby

⤷ alex_albon Crazy to see how people forget they have boyfriends at home…

ynfan42 THESE ARE NOW MY PARENTS!!

ynfan43 i guess being delulu works out in the end

landofan42 he’s the king of her heart (i’m sorry but i had to make the taylor reference)

francisca.cgomes now we can finally go on double dates!!

⤷ yourusername we could always go on a date alone

⤷ landonorris I think we’ll stick just with the double date

ynfan44 they’re officially the best couple on the grid

#*ੈ✩༄ my works ! #lando norris #olivia rodrigo #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris insta au #lando norris imagine #lando norris headcanons #lando norris one shot #lando norris au #lando norris instagram au #lando norris f1 #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one x you

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 11 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, Reader has a baby bump and stretch marks (briefly mentioned), talk of insecurities

WC: 1.2k

A/N: this was inspired by an ask that I got for Eddie feeling so grateful when he witnesses a sweet moment between Ms. Sweetheart/Reader and Harris, but I can't find who sent it. If it was you, thank you!

November 1999

“Har? You ready for bed?”

Harris nods, peeling back his Spider-Man comforter and slipping beneath the covers. He points to the laminated list that’s Velcroed to the back of his door. You run your finger down the column where he’s used the dry erase marker to check off each task in his routine: shower, comb his hair, brush his teeth, pee, and change into his pajamas.  

“Nice job!” You walk—though at this point in your pregnancy, it’s a bonafide waddle—from the doorway towards the small bookshelf in the corner of his room and pluck the newest Magic Treehouse from its spot. Removing the bookmark, you cautiously lower yourself onto his bed, resting your free hand on your belly to keep steady. 

He snuggles into you, head nestled against your arm as you read aloud. “Chapter four,” you begin, but before you can continue, Harris speaks. 

“Mommy?” His voice is tiny, very much unlike his usual boisterousness, and you can’t help but feel worried. 

You brush an unruly lock of his hair from his forehead. “What’s up?”

Harris pauses for a moment, singular front tooth scraping over his bottom lip anxiously. “What if Baby Brother doesn’t like me?” His hazel eyes are shiny with incoming tears. “What if he doesn’t think I’m a good big brother?”

Your heart splinters into a thousand pieces when you hear the concern in his voice. “Oh, Har,” you murmur, shifting your weight to find a more comfortable position, “he’s going to love you. More than that; he’s going to look up to you. You’ll be his role model.”

“But I don’t know how to be a role model.” He keeps his gaze trained on the webbing shooting from Spider-Man’s fingers. “An’ everyone keeps saying that being a big brother is a really important job, but I’ve never been one before! What if I’m not good at it?”

You consider your words for a moment. “Can I tell you a secret?” you finally ask, softly smiling when his attention immediately snaps back to you. “Do you remember when I was your teacher, and you wanted me to be your mommy?”

“Mhm. An’ now you are.”

“And now I am,” you agree with a laugh. “But when your dad and I first started talking about me being your mommy, I was so scared.”

Harris’s eyes widen in disbelief. “You were scared?” His nose wrinkles as he tries to discern your reasoning. “Why?”

“Well, being a mommy is a super important job, too,” you tell him, tucking the bookmark back between the pages and setting the paperback down on the bed. “And I didn’t want to mess up or make any mistakes. But guess what?”

“What?” He places his hand on top of yours. 

You lean in and whisper, “I’ve messed up and made mistakes.” Your tone stays lighthearted, but both of you know that the words are spoken with truth. “There have been times where I should have been tougher, and times that I should have been more easygoing. And sometimes, I look back and think, ‘why did I do that?’” You shake your head to combat the memories of missteps you’ve inadvertently conjured up. “But you still love me, just like Baby Brother will always love you.”

Harris exhales with a heaviness that’s almost comical coming from a seven-year-old. He’s not wholly convinced, so you continue. 

“Har, you are gonna be the best big brother the world has ever seen.” The promise is honey-sweet and just as natural. “There are so many things you’ll get to teach the baby that Daddy and I can’t.”

He allows himself to look at you once again, curiosity overtaking nervousness. “Like what?”

“Like…drawing,” you say, scratching an itch on the side of your stomach where a stretch mark has formed. “You’re our resident artist; no one draws a family portrait better than Harris Munson.”

He giggles at this. “Yeah, an’ you guys don’t know a lot about superheroes; only a little bit.”

“Exactly. Only what you’ve taught us.” You kiss the crown of his head. “Baby Brother is so lucky to have you.”

Harris nods, letting out a yawn that alerts you to the time. 

“Come on, let’s get you into bed so you’re not snoozing in school tomorrow.” You lower his pillow from where he’s propped it against the wall, but he doesn’t move from his spot.

“I wanna say good night to Baby Brother.” He rests his cheek on the swell of your stomach with his hand just above your belly button. “Good night, Baby Brother. I love you, and I can’t wait to meet you in…” he rotates his neck so you’re looking directly at his nostrils, “how many days?”

“Thirteen, if he comes on time,” you say, adding a gentle reminder, “but sometimes babies show up a little late, so he might not get here until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Oh.” He considers this for a second, his gaze shifting back and forth from your belly to your eyes. “If he comes on Thanksgiving, do I still get to eat mashed potatoes?”

You shrug. “I don’t see why not. As long as you save some for me when I get home.”

Harris harrumphs at the prospect of sharing and you laugh, which gives you the urge to pee—again. “Sweet dreams, Har Bear.” You kiss his scalp again, slowly rising to flick off the light switch. There will be a time when he eschews the nickname, labeling it babyish, but it lives on for another day. 

In your beeline for the bathroom, you find Eddie waiting just outside Harris’s room. His cheeks are pink as though he’s been caught, and you notice the glassiness coating his chocolate eyes. 

“Eds? You okay?” You murmur the question under your breath, not wanting to alert Harris. 

“Mhm. Yeah, ‘m fine.” He hooks his fingers into the white cotton sleeves of his undershirt and wipes at his face. “Just pregnancy hormones,” he teases with a soft chuckle, and you nudge his hip with yours. “Really, though; everything’s good.” 

You want to press him further, but the full-term baby tap-dancing on your bladder has other plans, so you have to surrender. 

Eddie sighs, contentment flooding his body as he blinks away the blurriness and closes Harris’s door. Domesticity has wrapped itself around him, and the softness with which you talk to Harris only has him falling deeper into its embrace. 

He used to describe himself as lucky, but you’re always quick to point out that luck has nothing to do with it. He’s deserving of his little family and the unconditional love that comes with it. 

But deserving doesn’t explain you showing up at the Hideout three years ago, or him picking you out of the crowd, or you being Harris’s teacher and fostering an awkward but necessary reunion. There’s a solid chance that he’d still be the angry and defensive man who’d shoved his dreams away, because holding hope that they would come to fruition was simply too scary to consider. But now, despite years of self-sabotage, he’s got everything he could ever want. 

So, yeah. Eddie Munson is a lucky man. 

--

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[ayyy-pee]

𝐓𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Day 2: Face Fucking

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Profanity bc who do you think I am, Pussy Eating, Face Riding, Face Fucking, DID NOT PROOFREAD SO SORRY FOR ERRORS LMFAO

Summary: Satoru puts his mouth to good use for once.

You may be over Satoru, but Satoru is not and will never be over you. 

❥ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❥

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because I don’t wanna do the mission. If I win, you gotta do it for me.”

“Satoru…” You groan, exasperated. “Are you really that lazy?”

Your boyfriend grins up at you. “Not lazy, but taking care of a Grade 2 curse sounds like a fucking drag and honestly, it’s a waste of my time.” He folds his hands behind his head, yawning loudly. 

“This is such a stupid bet,” you grumble and Satoru laughs.

“You’re always so tense. Either way, you literally come out on top, so really I’m doing you a favor.”

You cock your head to the side in annoyance, folding your arms over your chest as you glare down at your boyfriend. You wish you could see his eyes through that stupid blindfold he’s always wearing. You’re sure they’re positively glowing with mirth.

Your mind replays the events of earlier today and how you’d ended up in such a compromising position. 

- - - - - -

It should have been a day like any other. You’d teach your classes, maybe take the students on a mission, let them do their thing. Then you’d find Satoru at the end of the day to go home together. But when you’d bumped into your boyfriend coming out of Principal Yaga’s office with a sour look on his face, jaw tight with irritation, you couldn’t help but stop in your tracks to ask what was wrong. 

Your mistake.

“How would you like to gain some experience and maybe earn points with Yaga for a promotion,” Satoru proposed after explaining the situation. His wide, toothy grin shone brightly as he awaited your answer, which came the moment he’d finished asking.

“No.”

“Babe, come onnnnnn,” he whines, grabbing your hands. “Please, it’s an easy mission!”

“Then you do it!”

“I don’t wannaaaaaa.”

“God, Satoru, why are you literally the strongest and laziest person I’ve ever known?” You roll your eyes, pulling your hands from his grip to place them on your hips. Satoru pouts, and you’re grateful you can’t see those baby blues or you may have given in right then. His eyes were his greatest strength when it came to you, and not because of the power he held in them.

“Oh, I’m the strongest lazy person, but Suguru literally quit because he didn’t wanna do missions,” he grumbles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest. Satoru stands there, staring you down until you think you can quite literally see the bulb ding above his head. “Okay okay, wait. I have an idea.”

Your eyes narrow, looking your boyfriend up and down suspiciously. You have no idea what he could be up to, but you’re curious, if not a little scared.

“It’s just a bet,” he says as if that’s going to make you feel better. He must see the look of concern on your face because he scrambles to keep talking. “It’s just something we were probably gonna do anyway, but now we can make it a little more exciting.” He holds both his hands up in the air, wiggling his fingers and giggling to himself as though he’s just said the most hilarious thing. 

You’re still waiting for the punchline.

“What is it…” You ask warily…and you regret it immediately when Satoru leans down and brushes his soft lips against the shell of your ear, whispering.

“Let’s make a bet. When we get home, I want you to sit on my face. If I can make you cum in ten minutes or less, you take the mission for me.”

A tingle races up your spine, a slow warmth uncurling low in your belly. You’ve never done that with Satoru before. The thought fills you with excitement. Your lips curl with a smirk and you whisper back, a challenge in your voice. “And if you can’t?”

“Then I guess I’ll do the mission, but something tells me I won’t have to worry about that.” He nips your earlobe, grinning when you yelp. You shove his shoulder, effectively pushing him back. You try to resist smiling when you realize he has his infinity off for you. He always has it off for you. Only you. Such a romantic.

You could always go home and fuck Satoru until the sun comes up like it’s a normal Tuesday night. Or, you could take him up on his offer…and make him suffer a little in the process.

Satoru closes the distance between you and loops his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. “So? Do we have a deal?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to whisper against his lips, “Take us home.”

It’s instant. Space and time bend violently around you and Satoru covers your eyes, holding you tightly against his chest as he warps you both home.

- - - - - -

Now here you are, naked and straddling Satoru’s chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about what’s to happen next. Your eyes dart down to Satoru’s phone on the bedside table, the big fat 10:00 timer blinking brightly on the screen. All you have to do is not let him win. You don’t want the mission anymore than he does and he needs to learn he can’t just dump all of his responsibilities on other people. 

Satoru clears his throat, pulling you from your straying thoughts. “As much as I’m absolutely loving the view from down here, we don’t have much time before one of us…” he points only to you, “...has to be on this mission.” You purse your lips, the uneasiness you just felt quickly dissipating. Satoru’s hands find purchase on your waist, gently squeezing. “Look, if you’re worried you’ll smother me to death –” 

“Tempting,” you interrupt, grinning with Satoru frowns.

“Anywayyyy, if you’re worried you’ll smother me to death, don’t worry about it. I’m the strongest.”

You stare blankly at him while he stares amusedly back at you. You’ve heard enough. You scoot forward, your bare cunt hovering over Satoru’s face for a moment before you effectively shut him up, dropping your core right on to his lips. A muffled yelp can be heard from deep between your thighs, Satoru shifting beneath you to try and get comfortable. 

“Clock starts now,” you sing, leaning over quickly to tap the timer on his phone to start. The seconds tick down rapidly, Satoru just as eager as he groans into your center. His hands wrap around your thighs, spreading them further apart for him. His tongue grazes your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud over and over.

You try to stay focused, try to stare straight ahead at the damn headboard because you don’t want to give Satoru the satisfaction of being able to brag that he won. But it just feels too damn good, the way he works his tongue through your folds, how he kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, how he groans into your cunt, clearly enjoying himself.

Satoru gives your pussy one long, broad lick and groans. Your eyes fluttering closed and your head falling back. You bite your lip just as his tongue thrusts between your folds, sucking, licking and biting. Your thighs shake as you struggle to keep your hips from slamming down into Satoru’s face but god it feels so fucking good.

Satoru has always been…gifted in the bedroom. There’s very little he’s not good at and it’s showing now as Satoru’s hands graze along your thighs, around to your ass where his nails dig into your ass cheeks. He pulls you forward, urging you to move.

You roll your hips forward when Satoru gives your ass one last smack. He sucks on your clit, humming as his lips wrap around the bundle of nerves and the sudden choked sob that leaves your lips catches you off guard. 

“Fuck! Satoru, right there. Don’t stop!” You moan, your fingers reaching down to tangle into your boyfriend’s hair. 

Satoru doesn’t stop. He does it again and again until you’re a panting mess atop of him. He grunts into your core, squeezing your ass before smacking it hard. A strangled cry rushes past your lips. Your thighs tremble on either side of Satoru’s head and he chuckles, smacking your other ass cheek and relishing in the way your legs shake again.

Your hips rock back and forth along his tongue, Satoru’s fingers digging into the meat of your ass to push and pull you along his face. He wants you to go faster, go harder, ride his face until you drown him in your cum.

God, he knows what the fuck he’s doing with that annoying mouth of his. You were an idiot for agreeing to his bet because you can already feel the heat pooling in your core as the band inside your belly threatens to snap at any moment.

Satoru’s loving this, you can tell by the needy groans and breathy whines escaping him as he buries himself as deep into your cunt as he can go. It’s so filthy, the way his tongue laps at your core, tasting and relishing every last drop you have to offer. 

You’re panting, leaning forward now to grip the headboard. Satoru stops suddenly, reaching up and pulling his blindfold off of his face to reveal his eyes. He knows exactly what that does to you, that you’ll fall apart in those beautiful orbs that hold all the power of the universe in them. Satoru looks just as beautiful between your thighs, snowy locks spread wildly, his mouth wet with your slick. He kisses your thighs, trailing soft touches all the way up to your center, leaving a gentle peck to your core. Satoru smirks when you roll your hips forward at the contact, then he trails soft kisses back down your other thigh. 

His hands squeeze your ass softly just as Satoru pushes his tongue between your folds again and runs his tongue flat up your core.

“So good, Satoru. Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, voice muffled as he buries his face in your cunt again, licking and sucking your clit while you’re grinding your own hips down on him, pace harder and faster than before. You nod, the only sounds heard being the hushed moans that grow gradually louder as you grind your hips down against Satoru’s face and the lewd slurping of Satoru’s mouth as he laps at your slick cunt.

With one hand, Satoru spreads one of your cheeks. With the other, he easily slips two fingers into your drenched cunt. “Shitttttt,” Satoru moans into your pussy when he feels your pussy clamp down on him. He curls his fingers sharply, smirking when he feels your thighs immediately begin to quiver around his head. You’re so close. There’s no way you’ll make it much longer. “Need your cum, baby. I wanna taste it. I need it.”

You don’t even get a chance to answer him. His fucking phone alarm blares on the table next to the bed, effectively stopping his actions and your orgasm. 

“Fuck.” You lean over and tap the phone, Satoru’s fingers idly pumping into you. You take your position with shit eating grin on your flushed face. “Guess I won –”

Satoru pulls you back to sit on his face, tongue darting out to lap at your soaked pussy.

“Don’t give a fuck about the bet. Need to make you cum,” he mutters into your core, pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. Your mouth falls open with a silent moan as Satoru wastes no time bringing you to the most earth shattering release of your life.

#jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #anime x reader #anime smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x geto #satoru gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #GojoNSFWWeek2023

[heartfullofleeches]

Loser (incel) Reader and Sex-maid bot Yan. Reader orders their new toy same day shipping - grateful to the gods for not having to deal with the hassle of making themselves presentable to other humans, and no longer having to clean their room. A little mistake in mailing leads to them getting their robot a day later than expected, and a large crack in its visor. Reader is obviously pissed by this development, but powers the bot on to see the extent of the damage. It works just fine - minus the loss of its built in knowledge and abilities.

They know their prime directive, but they can't wash a single dish or fold clothes. Other parts of them still function so Reader is fine keeping them around and teaching them what to do while it warms their bed. The Bot feels so useless to their master. All they ever do is question them and break every vase they hold like the ditz it is. Their master even gave them the nickname of Melon likely for the damage they've taken. They'll probably have their memories erased when the repair team comes in....

"All fixed. Just a few unplugged wires at that nasty crack. There seems to be some other bugs, but we'd need to take it in to examine."

"You said they work now, right? It's fine. I don't want to have to teach them how to organize my desk properly again. Those figures are collectables."

Their master was letting them keep their precious memories?... The human had never been the nicest, but they weren't outright cruel either. It was almost....cute how protective of their belongings they were. It was their possession too... Fully capable of pleasing their master in all forms, Melon wouldn't waste their second chance.

They cook their master's favor meals without over seasoning or cooking it. They wash clothes and scold their silly master for wearing things multiple days at a time. They wait hand and foot by day and nights....nights are their favorite part. They sit quietly through their master's God awful attempts at flirting in the off chance they ever seek a human mate - but something's off. There's an ache in their chest whenever they imagine their master with another. Their answers to their master's terrible flirts comes start from that hole when the correct thing to do was tell them of their errors and why no human would want them if they said those things.

No human deserved them anyway... All their master needed to be satisfied - was them

Crackposts under cut - suggestive themes

Melon: Master, what's this? :)

Loser Reader: My body pillow. It stains easy so put it down.

Melon: Ah, it's precious to you then? I'll take good care of it :D

Melon: Master, what's this? :)

Loser Reader: A knife. Be careful with it.

Melon: Oh, it's dangerous? I'll keep it far away from you! <3

Melon: Master.... who is this?

Loser Reader: My crush from highschool. Meant to throw that picture away after they rejected me

Melon: They don't mean anything to you anymore?... I think I've found somewhere to store that knife

-

Loser Reader: sighs My friend really wants me to meet their sibling. Guess I better get dressed.

Melon, on their knees: Master ~ it currently 1:14pm. Time for your daily bi-hourly head

Loser Reader: My wha- [ziiip] Fuck, wait-

-

Loser Reader, attempting to flirt: you are a moderately attractive person and in the case I snap and kill everyone - I'd go on the run and change my name with you... or save you for last. How was that?

Melon, wiping fakes tears: You have such a beautiful way with words, master

-

Stranger: Oh, hello- Is Y/n home? We meet online at while ago and they gave me their addresses in case I visit because I only live an hour away

Melon: Hmph, can you pleasure my master while rearranging their game library in alphabetical order at the same time? I think not. Good-bye!

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere #yandere android #yandere robot

[agoodroughandtumble]

Roronoa Zoro x Reader - I Didn't Need Saving

I Didn't Need Saving - Roronoa Zoro/Reader

Status: Incomplete Summary: Reader is hurt after battling with the marines Warnings: 18+. Language, injury, implied violence (in keeping with the show)

“You’re not dead then.”

You turned your head – trying to ignore the pain currently surging through you even at the smallest of movements. A small smile found its way onto your lips at the sight of Zoro leant against the doorway, arms folded across his chest and signature frown gracing his features. He was fine. He was safe. “Apparently not.”

“Good.” Zoro crossed across the room to stand at the edge of the bed. He didn’t look like that was good. “Means I get to kill you myself.”

“Excuse me?” If this was the swordsman’s attempt at humour, you weren’t understanding the joke. The wound in your side was preventing you from sitting up so you had to make do with glaring at him. “Most people would be grateful-”

“Grateful?” He snapped, raised voice making you recoil. “For your recklessness? Your complete disregard of anyone but yourself?”

You were silent, blinking back tears, unable to look at him lest the dam broke. Images of the battle flashed through your mind – marines everywhere, reinforcements and cannonballs seemingly appearing out of thin air. The invading stench of blood and smoke. Everything happened all at once, and yet time had seemed to stretch endlessly. And then. The explosion. Wooden shrapnel hurtling towards him.

“Well?”

The sharpness of his voice forced you to look at him. His expression was unlike anything you had seen – eyes burning into you, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth were sure to break. It was then you noticed one hand gripping his sword, knuckles almost turning white. Maybe he was going to kill you. Maybe that would be preferable.

Zoro was still staring at you. Expectantly. You took a deep inhale – shouting was definitely beyond you at present but that didn’t mean you weren’t internally screaming at the audacity. Next time you would just let him die – that would teach the arsehole to be grateful. “I saved you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but the silence was so thick you were certain he could hear the rapid increase of your heartbeat.

Zoro was unmoved. “I didn’t need saving.”

“Next time I won’t.”

“Next time?” He scoffed. “What makes you think you’re going anywhere near a battle again?”

You didn’t answer. Instead turned away from him to focus on the ceiling. Tears of either anger or hurt were pricking the corners of your eyes but you’d be damned if you let him of all people see you cry. “Just fuck off, Zoro. I’m tired; turns out taking a stake to the ribs for someone really takes it out of you.”

If you had still been facing him you would have caught the way he flinched for a second at the venom hanging from your words. Fortunately for Zoro, his voice could remain composed even when his expression couldn’t. “I can’t.” He replied blankly before pulling up a chair and settling himself beside you – boots propped up on your bed (prick). “Chopper wants someone watching you. Guess who drew the short straw.”

A frustrated groan left you. Surely if he was that angry with you one of the others would be a better nurse? You really weren’t going to risk your life again if this was the bullshit you’d have to endure. “Well if you are going to kill me yourself at least wait until I’m asleep.” With that you rolled onto your side away from him. “Ah-fu-” Sharp, white hot pain flooded your system causing you to immediately collapse onto your back – eyes screwed shut and teeth almost biting clean through your lower lip.

“Shit, Y/N are you okay? Do you want Chopper?”

“I’m fine.” You forced out through gritted teeth, trying your best to focus on long, deep breaths until the pain rescinded enough to open your eyes. Only to be met with his. Despite yourself you felt your heart skip a beat at the intensity with which he stared at you. The concern.

“Why did you do that?”

“You were pissing me off.”

“No,” he sighed and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he did so. “Why did you do that?”

“Oh.” Heat rose in your cheeks and you relished in the smell of him, the feel of his skin against yours. You could stay in this moment forever, well, maybe if your heart didn’t feel like it was about to burst open. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You’re being evasive.”

You fidgeted uncomfortably beneath him. And swallowed. Hard. If he had asked you ten minutes before you would have thought the answer was obvious. As it happened, his reaction just showed how completely oblivious he was. Did you really have to spell it out? How were you even supposed to start? Hell, how could any words of declaration be any more glaring, any more indisputable than literally risking your life for his? Zoro was an idiot, sure, but he couldn’t be this much of an idiot.

Fighting through the pain you managed to wriggle an arm free of the covers Zoro’s large frame was currently trapping you under and a ran a hand through mossy green hair. A small, lazy smile tugged at your lips but you weren’t there just yet, not until you felt him relax into your touch.

His eyes opened again, leaning back slightly to look at you properly. “If you don’t answer, I will kill you this time.”

You cocked your head, although this threat came with a raised eyebrow and lips threatening to twitch into a smirk you couldn’t help but be a little curious. “Why do you keep saying that?”

Zoro leant back fully, cutting off the contact between the two of you but looking at you just as intensely. “Only I get to decide when you die. And how. And it’s certainly not going to be because you stupidly decided to be a god-damn hero for me. So if you’re still waiting for me to be grateful that you were willing to leave me when-”

You chewed your lips and stared at him. Desperately praying for him to continue. Instead he was stubbornly staring at his boots. “When what?”

Silence.

“When what, Zoro?”

“Don’t do that shit again.” He forced out, still not trusting himself to look at anything other than his boots.

“Zoro, I…” You sighed defeatedly. Your heart would shatter into a million pieces before it mustered the courage to say the words burning your tongue.

He stood up and headed towards the door, still not looking at you. “I’ll ask Nami to watch you. Get some sleep.” With that, he was gone.

You were wrong. Your heart only needed to be cleaved in two.

#opla #one piece #one piece live action #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro

[aaronhotchswife]

THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Drew Starkey X Female Reader

Chapter 2

Warnings : alcohol, panick attack, angst, want to give the reader a hug, smut, loss of virginity

If you missed chapter 1

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." - James Earl Jones

Y/N's point of view

I'm at Madelyn's, curled up on the couch with a hot tea in my hands. I don't want to go home, because I know that Drew will be there, with Odessa probably. I don't have the strength to see him. Even if at the same time, he is the only person I want to see.

I now know what heart break feels like and I now know that I have to teach my heart to accept disappointments, even from the people I love, even from him.

Madelyn is sitting next to me, playing with my hair. I respond to the worried texts of my friends, saying that I'm okay and that I'm sorry to have ruined their night. They are all understanding and tell me to have a great trip at my parents for the holidays, and to take time for myself. I respond to all of them except Drew. I just write him that I'm at Madelyn's and that I'll pass by tomorrow to get my suitcase for the holidays. I ignore his texts asking me what happened. I just answer him to have a great Christmas before turning off my phone and go to sleep.

Drew's point of view

I think I'm in love with Y/N since I saw her for the first time. When everyone got cast, we had dinner at the restaurant to get to know each other. I was sitting with the boys, talking about what we liked in life, when I saw her, making her way to the table. She was wearing a yellow summer dress with white converses. Her hair was tied up in a effortless ponytail, and I swear that in that moment, I saw the most beautiful girl in the world.

But I think that I truly fell in love with her 3 months after we met. We were walking in the city, and we saw a kid looking for his parents. Without hesitation, she made her way to him, kneeling at his height, asking him if he needed help. The kid was inconsolable so she sat with him, telling him stories and making him laugh until his parents found him again. In that moment, I knew. I knew that she could have broke my heart in a thousand pieces and I would've been grateful.

Since that day, three years ago, it always been the two of us, until tonight.

So when I arrive at Madelyn's apartment, I want nothing more than to have answers. I feel sick to think I could've put her in that state. I knock at her door, rubbing my hands in my face. When she opens the door, I can see how annoy she is at me.

"She's sleeping."

"Ok, then tell her I passed by and that I want to talk. Please," we're both surprised by my shaking voice. "What the hell happened out there ?"

"Maybe you should ask that to your friend Odessa, Drew. I know she is your friend, but you should've seen the state Y/N was. Getting humiliated like that in front of her friends, in front of you."

"In front of me?" I struggled to ask, my brows furrowed.

"Please Drew," she chuckled coldly. "As if she wanted you to know that she was a virgin. I'll let her know you passed by, but you need to let her some space, she has a lot on her mind right now."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You should go, Drew, she'll talk to you when she's ready."

I leave her house, cursing to myself. When I go to bed that night, I can't stop thinking about her, about us, about how I lost something I never had.

Y/N's point of view

I leave Madelyn's apartment early this morning, figuring out that if I go to our apartment early enough, chances will be that Drew will still be asleep. I guessed right because when I unlock the door, I can hear him snoring lightly.

***

As I'm driving to my parents' house, I put my Christmas playlist on shuffle, question to get into the mood. As I get on the highway, the song Blue Christmas by The Lumineers starts playing. I feel like it's the first time in my life where I can really relate to this song. My mind starts to wonder, how will Drew's Christmas will be like. How will my Christmas be like. I can feel the tears burning my eyes as I try my best to stay concentrated on the road.

***

I'm sitting on the sofa; my parents and my brother are talking about something I can't decipher. I'm scrolling on my phone, through Instagram. My heart skips a beat when I see a picture that Mackayla posted. I look at the picture, where Drew all smiling, is photographed with his family. I read the caption as it says "Merry Christmas from our family to yours.'' I double tap on it, liking it, even if it feels as if my heart throws itself down the 18th floor to see him smile like that.

Drew's point of view

Christmas sucks this year. I try my best to act like everything is fine, to act as if she's not mad at me. But my mind keeps wandering and I keep asking myself why she acted like that. I mean, sure what Odessa did was not nice, but I keep asking myself what was the meaning behind Madelyn's words.

''Drew!'' Brooke's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, ''We're opening the gifts!''

I sit on the floor, watching my mom handing me a gift. I unwrap it, finding an air fryer under the paper. Before I can say anything, my mom almost screams, ''It's for you and Y/N! I know how you both love easy and quick cooking.''

I laugh slightly, trying to push away the thought that I miss her, that I love her, and that I hope that our friendship can pass through whatever happened that night.

Y/N ‘s point of view

As I come home 2 days later, I see Drew laying on his bed, reading a book. I feel my heart throbbing in my chest, and weirdly, for the first time, I don’t know how to act around him. A mix of thoughts is spinning around in my head, and I find myself wondering if I should apologize to him for how I acted at the bar. Madelyn told me how he went to her apartment to have answers and I can’t imagine how bad he must’ve felt.

He must have felt that I was standing in the doorframe of his room because he turned his head, looking at me with so much gentleness, as if he was afraid to break me just with his gaze.

''Hi.'' I say, making an effort to keep my voice steady.

''Hi.''

I make my way to him, laying next to him on the bed.

He clears his throat before speaking again, ''how was your Christmas?''

''T'was fun,'' I answer, my eyes focused on his bedroom's ceiling, ''what about yours?''

''Was great, my mom says hi,'' he smiles.

''We should talk,'' we say at the same time.

Drew chuckled softly, and for the first time since I'm laying next to him, I stop looking at the ceiling, looking at him instead.

''I feel like I owe you an apology for how I acted at the bar,'' I say, my voice not even louder than a whisper. But I know he heard me he interrupts me.

''No, I should apologize. I should've done something while you were having a panick attack. Does it happen often ?''

Drew's point of view

I look into her eyes as I ask my question. I can see her breath getting stuck in her chest.

''It's fine if you don't want to talk about it,'' I say, giving her an occasion of changing subject.

''No, it's ok,'' she answers, ''I used to happen a lot more when I was younger. I used to do them when there were a lot of people or noises. But the one a couple of days ago was the first in a long time. I thought I was getting better, I honestly did. But sometimes, I just lay in bed at 3 am, trying to figure out what is wrong with me and why I'm never enough.''

''I'm sorry,'' I say to her. I truly feel sorry for her, because I know that she can't see herself the way I see her. So strong, always there for the others, always happy. I'm cursing mentally to not have realized how she was doing.

''You don't have to be sorry Drew.''

My hand reaches for hers and my gaze goes from her eyes to her lips. I can see hers do the same. I just want to close that gap between our lips. But before I can do anything, she turns her head, excusing herself and leaving me alone in my room.

Taglist -

@willowalexissss

@abbybarnesstuff

@ethanthequeefqueen

@pet1t3

@drewstarkeysbae

@prentissesredtanktop

@jjmaybankisbae

@f4ll-for-you

#drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey angst #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey fanfiction #Spotify

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 2.3

2.1 || 2.2 || [here] || 2.4

in todays part: what did chrissy mean by multiple options? is eddie still gonna be standoffish? we’ll see! :D i hope y’all enjoy this part :)

ignore how uhh unrealistic this is lmao it’s very handwavy about pretty much everything &lt;3

About a week later, just a few days before they were set to leave, Steve and Robin pulled into the address that Chrissy had given them. He was surprised to see that it appeared to be a Universal Home and RV lot. He spotted Chrissy and Eddie standing at the entrance of the building, so pulled up next to the car that was parked near by, having seen Eddie get into it during the in-person ‘interview’.

"Hey, guys!" Chrissy greeted cheerfully. Her warm, summer scent immediately let Steve know she was an omega, which he somehow hadn't known before. He wasn't really surprised, if he was honest.

"Hi Chrissy! Eddie," Steve responded, with a slight nod and shy smile to the alpha.

To his surprise, Eddie smiled warmly and greeted him, “Hey, Steve.”

"And you must be Robin," Chrissy said, reaching a hand out to shake the trembling alpha's.

Steve glanced at Robin to gauge her reaction and grinned at the enamored look she had on her face. He nudged her gently, startling her out of it.

“Oh- um- yes! That’s me! Robin! It is so nice to meet you in person, Chrissy,” Robin reciprocated the handshake. Steve noticed she looked like she was about to go on one of her rambles and decided to spare her the mortification. While Steve, and he doubted anyone else, didn’t mind it, he knew that Robin hated when she couldn’t stop talking.

Steve thought it added to her charm.

Robin thought he was full of shit.

“I can’t help but notice we’re at a dealership,” Steve said, interrupting whatever nonsense was about to cone out of Robin’s mouth. She shot him a grateful look, to which he returned a smile.

“Yes! So, as we discussed, we—Hell’s Fire Records—are responsible for your traveling expenses,” she explained with an easy grin. “The best way to do that, we figured, was to get you your own transportation. And because you two already live together, we figured we could do two birds with one stone and get you guys an RV.”

Steve and Robin stared at the other two in shocked silence, mouths open.

Steve was the first to recover, “You- that’s not- we can’t just accept an entire RV,” he breathed, shaking his head.

Eddie tilted his head with a small grin, “It’s part of the contract you signed.” he explained, “both of you did.” he added with a nod towards Robin.

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he'd only had Robin give it a once over. She had said everything looked fine. He supposed, this was probably ‘fine’ in her opinion.

“When it said ‘all travel and accommodations expenses paid’, I expected like, gas reimbursement, or paying for hotel rooms,” Steve exclaimed in distress, “not, fuckin’, an entire RV?”

“Oh, that’s also included,” Chrissy cheerfully explained, as if this was normal and not at all insane. Steve let out a noise that was definitely embarrassing for him to have made, but he couldn’t hold it in.

Eddie’s face softened at the sound, “Steve, we want you guys to be comfortable on the road, and you need space to teach Elodie in.”

Robin seemed to snap out of the reverie she had fallen into just then, “I mean,” she started hesitantly, turning to Steve, “they’re not wrong.”

“What?” Steve asked, turning to her in shock.

“I did see something like this in the contract,” she admitted sheepishly, “I just didn’t think that it would be an RV they bought for us. But it makes sense, because you can use part of the RV for a little classroom.”

Steve brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. He took a deep breath, and tried to calm his racing heart.

“Okay. Alright, fine. I guess,” he huffed, still not exactly happy with the information.

“Great!” Chrissy exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She turned towards the building and signaled to someone, which led to someone immediately appearing by their group.

“Ah, Mr. Harrington and Ms. Buckley, lovely to meet you,” the man said, smiling warmly. “My name is Winston Graves, but you may call me Winston. Ms. Cunningham told us a little about what we’re looking for and I chose three RVs for us to view today..”

Then the man was off, leading the group towards the center of the lot. Steve followed reluctantly and listened intently at the description of each of the RVs that Winston had chosen.

One had a bed on top of the drivers seat and a small bedroom at the back of the RV, with a living and a kitchen space between them, as well as a tiny bathroom between the kitchen and the back bedroom.

The second just had two twin beds in the same room at the back of the RV, and the last one was similar in layout, just a bit bigger in size.

Steve was torn between choosing one of the cheaper options—the last two described—or choosing the option that was better for what he needed to do while traveling, but was more expensive. He and Robin discussed it quietly, just out of ear shot of both Chrissy and Eddie.

“It’s more money, Robs,” he seethed quietly.

“You need enough room for a mini classroom,” Robin hissed back with a frown. “Besides, either way, we don’t owe them anything out of this. They’re buying it for us. It’s basically already paid for.”

Steve crossed his arms with a scowl. “You know I hate taking handouts,” he muttered, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

His family was rich, but even before he had been disowned because of his secondary gender, his family was weird about money. They often would buy him something and then expect something in return. For his sixteenth birthday, his biological father had bought him a car. Then, after, lorded it over him to be taken away if he didn’t do exactly what they wanted.

Not that Steve had been able to keep the car after his presentation. He hadn’t. His father had it towed and then probably sold it after.

To say he didn’t enjoy when people bought things for him was an understatement. He felt he had to prove himself to earn it.

“It’s literally part of the contract. Legally, they have to buy this for us,” Robin reminded gently, trying to control her scent to soothe Steve easier.

Steve’s nostrils flared as he scented her and he let out a sigh, “Fine. I think we should choose the first one.” he grumpily admitted.

Robin grinned, “Was that so hard?” she teased with no heat, leading them back to the others to share their decision.

“I’m glad you chose that one,” Eddie said, giving Steve a significant look, as if he knew exactly how their conversation had gone.

Steve smiled tensely and shrugged helplessly. “I needed to chose what would be best for Elodie,” he claimed. It was true, but that didn’t mean he had to like the decision.

“Alrighty!” Winston said enthusiastically, probably because he was about to make good commission, which Steve couldn’t fault the man for. He couldn’t tell what his designation was, likely due to some business mandated scent blockers, but Steve guessed he was either a beta or an alpha, based on how he held himself. Everyone was led into the building, and while Steve and Robin had to sign papers, Chrissy and Eddie were taking care of the payment. Steve felt a bit sick looking at the amount of money that was being spent and tried to remind himself that it was for Elodie.

Once they were done, Steve and Robin waited for the other two to finish doing the payment. The look on the employees face was pure joy, and while Steve wasn’t sure if he got more commission when someone paid in full, he was sure that it definitely didn’t hurt.

“At least we can bring more stuff now,” Robin said quietly beside him. Steve tore his gaze away from the others and looked at her.

“That’s true,” he hummed, tapping his fingers restlessly against the opposite bicep. “We’ll probably be able to drive it to our apartment so packing is easier.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think about that. Does that mean I get to drive?” Robin asked excitedly. While Steve was the primary driver—when they did drive—Robin had her license.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’, rolling his eyes afterwards.

“Fuck yeah,” Robin cheered quietly.

“Alright, here are the two sets of keys,” Eddie said, holding his hands out to each of them. Steve startled and gripped his chest with a gasp.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, relaxing as he reached out and grabbed the keys, “you startled me.”

“Just ‘Eddie’, actually,” the alpha teased with a wry grin. Steve’s cheeks turned pink, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically with a huff.

The four of them walked out of the dealership together. Someone must have pulled the RV around front while they had filled out the paperwork and paid, as it was parked next to the cars. Steve let himself be a little excited about the prospect of having an RV—it was one of his dream vehicles, even as a pup. He dreamt of having a family he traveled with. His heart sank, but he shook off the feeling, refusing to feel worse about getting the RV than he already felt.

if you want to be added to the taglist, verify your age either in the request or have it listed clearly in your bio. (18+)

@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners @y4r3luv @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #steve x eddie #steddie #eventual steddie #tw omegaverse #omega!steve #alpha!eddie #omega!chrissy #alpha!robin #stuck in your throat #siyt 🎤 #unsteddie writing

[binahs-sinbin]

Overstimulating the tweels? (+riddle and idia if it's ok :))

Well of course it’s ok!!💙💚 Did ficlets!

All characters below are 18+

~~

Jade

Cw: overstim, bondage, c*ck rings,

Jade playfully tugged against the restraints you had put on him, leaving him tied to the bed while you go grab a few ‘toys’ to make the night more interesting.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, he was relieved when you came back into his line of site. “(M/C), might i ask what’s in the bag?” He eyed the black bag you carried at hip height. You climbed onto the bed, settling yourself beside him, placing the bag so he can’t see what’s in it.

“It’s a surprise.” You hum out, grabbing the first toy you had, it was bright pink. You slid it down his cock, to the base. You flipped the switch to turn it on. You reach into the bag and grab…another ring?

“Why do you have two rings?”

You ignore the amused look he gives you, instead you grab…a handful of rings? They all were in different colors. You hum to yourself, slipping a few more into his cock, letting one rest right under the head of his cock. You click it on, earning a gasp. “A-ah, those are really t-tight.”

He yelps feeling you grab his cock roughly pumping it. Unsurprisingly he doesn’t last long, trembling under you as he cums. Jade collapses against the bed, he hisses when you don’t stop, milking his cock.

“Wait,” He groaned out. “It’s too much, please turn them off. I-I can’t take both.” You hummed in acknowledgment but made no attempt to remove them or even turn them off. You let go of his cock, watching it bob excitedly.

You let your hand slide up his cock to the tip. You roughly rubbed the slit of his cock. Jade jerks under you, yanking on the restraints. “You look so cute like this…you can take more.”

Floyd

Cw: overstim, vibrating wands

Floyd purred at the near painful stimulation. The wand trapped his cock against his stomach, you had it on its highest setting pressed against the tip of his cock. “F-feels so good, d-don’t stop.” Floyd murmed out.

You nodded, lightly pressing it against his cock, releasing the pressure than repeating the process. Floyd groans, cumming hard onto his own stomach. Floyd purred, leaning back against you, hips trembling. He bucks against you before pressing his hips against you.

He hissed as the overstimulation starts to become too much. “S-Shrimpyy! Please it’s so much!” He whined out, tensing up. He grabs your wrist to try and stop you only for you to slap his thigh.

“Quit being such a bitch, you just asked me to keep going.” You squeeze his thighs, tapping the wand on his cockhead. He fell back against you. You can hear his high pitched cry as you pin his cock again.

Riddle

Cw: overstim, , dracryphilia, tip polishing

“N-no more, hurts!” Riddle whimpered, tears streaming down his face. He’s lost track of how many times you’ve made him cum. There has to be a rule saying you can’t overstimulate the Queen of Hearts, right?

Well, no matter how much riddle tried to reason with you, but you had no interest in listening. Instead, you chose to teach him a ‘fun’ thing you read about. Your palm was flat against the head of his cock while your other hand rubbed his cock against it. He was grateful you had at least used lube, though it also made your movements seamless.

“Ah, ah, ah!” You mock, laughing at the whines that escaped him. “You’re a housewarden! You should be able to take this much!” You sigh in mock disappointment. “If your stamina is really that bad, I guess I could go to Carter…”

Riddle practically jumped up at that. “N-nnono! I can take it!” He grabs your arm for support, hiding his face as much as he could, muffling his panting. “I can take anything-“

“Anything?” You interrupt, Riddle nods in response. “So you would let me sound you?” Riddle went rigged, paling at the thought. He slowly nods, pressing himself against you.

Idia

Cw: overstim,slight praise kink

Pathetic whines escaped Idia, though he made no attempt to move away from you. You thumbed the slit of his cock, watching in amusement as Idia thrashed under.

Or at least he was trying to thrash but it was completely pathetic, honestly he was so much weaker than you that he could struggle all he wanted but it was in vain. He couldn’t get away, not that he wanted to.

“Aah! Ah! So much s-so goood!” He whimpers, out, trying to thrust up into your hand. “T-thank you!” He trembles and you can feel his nails digging into your back as your free hand tease the glands of his throbbing cock.

“Good boy!” You praise, feeling him twitch in your hand in response. “You can cum again, right?” He quickly shakes his head earning a huff from you. “I’m sure you can handle more, come on.”

You get rougher with the tip of his cock, only using his own cum as lube. You drag your nails along his cock watching the panicked look on his face as your nails scrape the head of his cock.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #jade x reader #floyd x reader #floyd x y/n #jade x y/n #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #dom reader #cw overstimulation #sub jade leech #sub jade #sub floyd #sub floyd leech #sub idia #sub riddle rosehearts #sub riddle #sub Idia shroud #ficlet #cw tip polishing

[kakushino]

Haganezuka's apprentice - Fem!Reader

You'd heard about his temper, or rather, you heard his temper, long before you first saw him. The need for new swordsmiths went beyond personal wants and so, you found yourself as one of the would-be apprentices under masters of their trade. Your master though? Haganezuka Hotaru

Since you would be entering the Swordsmiths' village proper, as a citizen and not a visitor, you had received your own hyottoko mask, as ugly as the rest of them, yet crucial for its anonymity. You were grateful to it though, because it hid your scowl during your first few weeks under Master Haganezuka's dubious tutelage.

"Not like that, you stupid shithead!"

"This is shoddy as hell. Again."

"Useless brat."

"If Kamado got a sword like this, he'd be coming back for another in a day."

It was all you could do to not blow up on him. As it was, you just shut your mouth and tried to keep up. You weren't even sure if he knew you weren't a man; after all, the masks did distort even voices.

You understood though, really. He was forbidden from touching the forge until he healed up and just tried to focus his energy on you, but he went about it completely wrong. 

Every insult and snide comment fueled your wrath. It was time to show him what you were made of, what you learned and what you could do. 

With bandage-covered hands from the blisters and rawness of overworking, you did what you did best as of late - forge.

The day you presented your first 'passable' wakizashi (passable for him, very good for others) was the day his comment felt less offensive and more… like a compliment?

"Hmpf, guess you aren't that incompetent, brat."

With time, the heat of his words went out of the window, his vulgarity dwindling as you improved in leaps and bounds. Despite his harshness and unpolished way of teaching, you'd become a swordsmith who could stand on her own two feet. Your apprenticeship would last for years more though, giving you plenty of time to really get to know your master.

"You didn't buy yourself any dango? Idiot. Here, take one. Don't tell a soul or you're dead."

"Here… What do you think it is? I didn't know you were so stupid you couldn't recognize tea. You like this type, don't you? So shut up and take it."

"Tsk. Brat. As if you could distract me from my- is that Gyomaru's dango? Hand it over."

Haganezuka Hotaru was just abrasive on the outside, but a big softie on the inside. 

A big softie who couldn't take care of himself properly at times. 

"Master Haganezuka, you need to eat. You've been in here for over a day." You cautiously touched his shoulder, hoping beyond hope he would snap out of the Zone. You'd brought dango and tea, hoping to entice him with the smell at first. It wasn't working, obviously.

He said nothing, just continued to hammer away at his latest work. 

“Master Haganezuka?” you shook his shoulder a little, making him pause for a moment before he continued. Your patience wore thin. You scowled. You’d be surprised if the ugly expression wasn’t permanently fixed into your face with how often you wore it when dealing with him. 

Maybe taking off his mask would make him pay attention to me?

Spoiler alert: It did not.

But it did make your face feel hot when you saw how handsome he was under it. A few shiny scars from the not-so-recent village attack still stood out against his pale skin, making him even more attractive.

Sweat made his dark hair stick to his skin, and suddenly, you were curious about the whole picture; you untied his scarf - it wasn’t like he was going to un-Zone anytime soon, you reasoned. You were not ready for the dark wavy tresses spilling over his shoulders. It was not fair how much of a looker he was. Was this man really single?

You continued to study him, memorizing his features for long lonely nights in your accommodation. Soon enough, you realized you were being a creep and should stop at once; you needed to finish what you started after all.

“Master Haganezuka!” you reached for his other shoulder to shake it. What you didn’t account for was the fact it was his blind side. Instead of an insult or even a scathing remark, you were nearly slashed with a red-hot blade in the face. You took a quick step back and it thankfully only knocked off your hyottoko mask to the ground, the wood smoking a little where the iron made contact with it. You stared at it with wide eyes, your heart in your throat and terror pulsing in your veins. “...”

“...you’re a woman?” 

Your eyes met his, both of you staring at each other in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” 

A flush rose to his cheeks, before his expression turned to white ash. “The old man is gonna kill me.”

"How did you not know I was a woman? The Chief told you when he was introducing me."

"I wasn't listening," he huffed, looking away. 

"More importantly, you just tried to kill me!" 

"Not my fault you were being stupid, brat!"

"You were being stupid. You didn't get out of here for over a day! You have to eat! And sleep!"

"Sleep is for the weak! I need to finish this project-" Haganezuka turned back to his bench, reaching for his hammer.

You snatched the tool before he could touch it. "No, you don't-" You high-tailed it out of his forge, clutching his favorite hammer as if your life depended on it.

"Wait-! You useless wench!"

Your master swore up a storm, hurling insults, screaming at you and chasing you with his half-finished blade. 

Kanamori even ran out into the street in his pajamas, mask askew, a katana of his own in hand, thinking there was an attack again. Seeing Haganezuka, he huffed and went back to sleep, too tired to deal with this right now.

A few days later, the Chief came to officially scold your master. You had a kick out of it, thankful your mask hid your smirk.

#does this count as a drabble? #probably not since it has 1k words #desi writing #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #fluff #i think it counts as fluff #haganezuka hotaru #haganezuka hotaru x reader #haganezuka x reader #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka #i tried

[sukuna-darling]

ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ fᴏʀ Cʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ɪs ʏᴏᴜ

reading time ⥂ 10 minutes/2.9k prompt ⥂ There is nothing you could offer Satoru he can’t get or doesn’t already have. So jokingly you offer your virginity. Which Satoru is more than happy to take. tags ⥂ teaching/corruption, virgin!reader, satoru is so needy for you, reader has some insecurities due to lack of experience and expecting rejection, reassurance/praise/encouragement, edging, dacryphilia, squirting, oral, pussy job, fingering, light biting a/n ⥂ this isn't late for his birthday. What do you mean?

‘Dunno what 2 get u….u want my virginity? Lol’ Typing you are joking, and if he would rather you bake him something sweet to eat for his birthday. When your phone buzzes with Satoru's response;

‘Let me have your beautiful ass until Christmas. Since I can tie you up and unwrap you later.’ Tossing your phone to the foot of the bed. Whilst your heart races and your stomach flips. Your mind scrambles between disbelief and that this was the obvious conclusion.

It had been a year and a half since your transfer. It had taken you nine of those months for you to think he is flirting with you. And after another month, whilst less oblivious, you gave in to his flirting. Which leads to a kiss a couple of weeks ago on a trip you deemed unprofessional.

Avoiding and denying there was anything to it afterward. As Satoru backed off from his flirting. Only then did you truly recognize the heavy interest he had been showing since you showed up.

Your phone buzzes and you snatch it up to read; ‘u….u is a funny-looking face.'

Smiling for a moment, only to bite into your bottom lip as you wrack your brain for a response. Only to see his text bubbles pop up. You wait to see if he will say anything more.

Maybe he has lost interest, and he is about to say he is joking. The thought makes your blood run cold. As you debate setting the phone aside whilst doing something else. Just to brace yourself for rejection.

You don't move from your phone.

It's three minutes later when he messages; 'You're nervous, and I've been trying to figure out what you want from me. I'm hoping this means you figured it out.'

'What do you think I want from you?' Despite the goofiness, and his inability to take things seriously. Which is really just his way of trying to cope whilst easing the other person.

For the first eight months, you never once saw Satoru upset. Until one night, he didn't have the emotional energy to keep on a smile. His face was eerily blank all night. You didn't pry. Instead, you invited him over for some sweets, cartoons, and bud.

'The fluffy blanket wrapping around Satoru and you. Whilst you sit in his lap holding a tub of ice cream. As a favorite comfort cartoon of yours, he has never seen it before played on the tv.

Grabbing the last blunt you rolled and a lighter. With your cheeks burning you say, "Proud of you today sounds silly to say I guess, but ahh- for a string bean, you squeeze tight." His long arms wrapped around your waist tighten. As he rests his head on top of yours.

Satoru exclaims, "String bean! I have washboard abs and I can throw you over my shoulder like you're a bag of sugar." He loosens his grip, grabbing your sides and squeezing. Whilst he hums,

"I'm never letting go of the fact I made you proud of me!" You're grateful Satoru can't see you. Using the lighting of your blunt to distract you from the pounding of your heart. Whilst you try to ignore how close Satoru pulled you in when he squeezed you. Causing his soft cock to press against your ass.

Lifting the blunt, which Satoru takes from you. As he leans back, taking the blanket with him. Yet you don't want to move. Whilst he grows and hardens against your ass,

You say, "I can tell you more often if you don't bring it up around others. So many expect a lot of you and no one ever bothers to tell you to thank you for what you do." A fat cloud of smoke blows past you. As Satoru puffs whilst listening to you say,

"It means a lot to so many people, even if they don't know it." His hand slowly slides down to your hip. Whilst you add,

"I think I figured it out, whilst your abilities are undeniable. It's your willingness to stick your neck out to help people and your stubbornness." You slowly lean back against his chest.

Sliding his hand down your hip to your upper thigh, stretching his fingers out. Satoru's pinkie, which is thicker than your forefinger, is close to your pussy. If you closed your legs, his fingers would touch you.

Staring at the tv whilst you continue to ramble, "Not to mention how you ease the tension with laughter work would be more stressful without you being a goofball." Satoru holds the blunt in front of your lips. Which you take, ignoring how soft his fingers feel when your lips touch them.

"Careful, someone is falling." Choosing to stay quiet as you turn up the tv instead. Ignore his words, since denying would only dig you in further.'

A full hour pass and Satoru sends, "I know what I'm ready to give you. What you get from me depends on what you want.' Setting the phone down and grabbing the bong. Which you clear the bowl of before you pick up your phone again and send him;

'What do I want? Isn't your birthday supposed about you? I don't really know what to do. I could look some things up... are you sure you wouldn't rather me bake you my special cupcakes?' After a few minutes, you settle on taking a shower. Since you figure, he is too busy to text back quickly.

In the bathroom, you set your phone on the shelves by your shower. Which you turn on before taking your clothes off. Whilst waiting for the water to warm, Satoru suggests,

'At midnight, my birthday is over and I should be off by then, so I'm coming over.' The time reads 9:45 on the top of your phone. Which means you had some time to get ready for Satoru.

Pouting as you fire back with; 'But that's you doing more work...' This time Satoru's response is quick;

'No pouting! Princess...fingering, eating your pussy, and being your first is going to be a pleasure. When we wake up, your special cupcakes will be the cherry on top.' Your mind spaces out as thoughts of his fingers and head between your legs. As you wonder how it's going to feel to have his thick, soft fingers on your pussy.

Dragging yourself out of your thoughts and texting Satoru, 'You're going to tease me, I just know it.' You don't get another text from Satoru. Whilst you shower, lotion up and find the one lingerie you got a couple of months ago. Since you were hoping to have it for when anything happened with someone you were interested in.

Closer to one in the morning, Satoru teleports into your living room. Smiling widely on his face as he slips off his blindfold and slips it into his jacket pocket.

The tranquil color of his eyes reminds you of the short-lasting shade of blue the sky takes when the sun rises. Which vanishes the moment the sun makes it fully over the horizon.

Walking over in front of you and leaning down, Satoru declares, "You're so damn beautiful princess, did you buy this thinking about me?" Satoru doesn't let you answer. When you tilt your head back to look up at him, he presses his lips against yours.

Loudly groaning, whilst grabbing your hips and lifting you off the sofa. Pulling you to his body, wrapping your legs around his waist. As Satoru tries to slip his tongue past yours, you pull away to confess,

"I don't know how to kiss with tongue either, so I might be bad at it." Biting on the inside of your cheek whilst looking over Satoru's shoulders. Whilst expecting him to laugh at you.

Satoru pauses in the hallway, cupping your face. Whilst urging you to look at him, he points out, "You're doubting yourself too much. Princess, there is nothing wrong with inexperience. It just means you need a caring teacher!" Taking you into your bedroom where he throws you onto the bed.

Chuckling as you squeal from flying momentarily. Before landing on your bed, bounce a little. Whilst you can hear your heart beating. In your ears, the reality of Satoru in your bedroom to fuck you is overwhelming.

After countless nights of building frustration to the point of cramps. And after avoiding him for the past two weeks, here he stands. With his cock straining against his pants.

You want to explore Satoru with your hands and commit to his touch to memory.

Satoru looks around the room, which is lit by a plethora of candles. Softly whistling before expressing, "I'm touched you did all of this for me. You're gorgeous lying on the bed among the flowers. I want to take a picture." Furrowing your eyebrows whilst laying back and whining,

"It's going to look bad. Cameras are not my friend like they are for you." Satoru unzips his jacket, sliding it off his shoulder and laying it on your dresser between two different clusters of candles.

Watching Satoru unbutton his shirt. Whilst he says, "What if I prove you wrong? Hmm? You want to give me something I can't buy and that I don't already have but so desperately need?" This wouldn't be the first time you saw him shirtless. Since he would often abandon his shirt whilst you hung out at his place. Which you never complained about.

For the first time, you could touch him the way you want to. You can go beyond just platonic cuddling. Until the 26th of December, you could let your hands roam whilst covering him with kisses.

Walking up behind Satoru, enjoying the sight of his sculpted, toned backside. From his broad shoulders to his slim waist. Countless times you've seen the muscles of his back tense and move. As he lifts weight above his head, made specifically to be heavy for him.

Reaching around to undo his pants. Whilst you purr him, "Happy late birthday." Kissing the middle of his back. Satoru whines as you trail kisses down his pants. Which you push down with his underwear.

Biting Satoru's back whilst he grabs the edge of your dresser. He moans, "Hmm! Are you wanting to give me some late birthday sugar?" Kissing the red mark on his back. Whilst he mumbles,

"Make up for my shitty fucking birthday day." Pushing his pants down with his underwear, Satoru lets out a groan. Which goes between your legs, making you drip and soak through the thin lace fabric.

Stepping on his pants between his legs. So Satoru can step out of his pants whilst you say, "I've been telling you that. You've been going all day off with little sleep. Lay down, let me kiss up on you."

Smiling whilst Satoru arranges your stuffed animals. He asks, "What do you know? And what have you done?" Flopping down on his back, closing his eyes, and letting out a soft sigh.

Joining Satoru on the bed, sitting between his legs. Where his hard cock rests with this tip reaching just below his belly button. And you can't look away as you note the light pink color of his tip. Which gets lighter the further down his veiny cock you look.

There are three vines you can see on the bottom of his cock. The right vein of them still showing close to his head. Satoru smirks at you and reiterates,

"Princess I want to know what you've done. How much do I need to teach you?" Satoru's legs seem only long and lanky in his snug pants. He reinforced this every time he spreads his legs and takes up space. Causing him to press against you on any seat he can take beside you.

Sliding your hands up his thighs, all you feel are stone-hard muscles. Rubbing small circles into his thighs close to his heavy balls. Massaging them with your palms and confessing,

"I had my first kiss with you in the hallway. I know you have a dick and if you finish inside me, we would end up with a little one." Looking into Satoru's eyes, cupping his balls softly. As you lean down to kiss the deep line between six-pack.

Resting his hand on the back of your head. You point out, "I've been too busy to really fool around. And no one I wanted was interested in me." Kissing up to his thick pecs. Whilst sliding your hand up to his cock.

Lifting his cock up in your hands whilst Satoru groans, "Princess I'm sure several people have been interested in you. And you have been too dense to see it." Letting Satoru's cock go, which makes a soft smack as it falls over.

Sliding your hands up his hard abs whilst you bite down into his left tit. He states, "I've been flirting with you for a year and a half. It was when you rubbed your ass on my cock when I was sad." Your cheeks burn as you let Satoru's tit go. Whilst he cups your cheek, encouraging you to raise your head.

Pressing his lips to yours whilst you whimper. Rocking your hips, grinding your clothed pussy on his hard, warm cock. The tingling pleasure of your clit makes it hard to keep the pace of your hard smooth.

Quickly the building pressure becomes overwhelming, lifting your hips and letting the building pressure fade. Satoru breaks the kiss and tells you,

"You praised me and then left me with blue balls. Even jerking off when I got home couldn't stop my cock from aching. Your squishy ass felt too good." Satoru grabs your bare ass, expose by the thong-like string. Which he grabs and pulls aside, freeing your pussy.

Pulling your hips back down to his, sliding you up his cock. Which is nudging your lips apart whilst stroking your clit. As you whine,

"I'm sorry I-I want to care for you in a way that scares me. What if you get bored with me?!" Still cupping your face, Satoru slips his thumb past your lips, pressing down on your tongue.

Satoru admits, "I've adored you since the night I said someone is falling. Princess, you've had me wrapped around your finger ever since you said those four words." Trying to lift your hips as Satoru's grasp tightens. And he keeps rocking your hips.

Sliding his hand into your hair whilst he mumbles, "Ever since you told me how you saw me, I wanted to make you see yourself differently." Tightly holding you to his body and flipping you onto your back.

Pulling his hips away, the pressure vanishes for a second time. And quickly frustration steps into its place. Your eyes burn with tears as Satoru coos,

"You're so pent up that you're crying after getting edged twice. Relax and give in to that tingly pressure. Trust me that nothing bad will happen. I'll make you cry at how good you feel." Sliding his hand from your ass to your thigh. He folds at the knee whilst holding your leg to your side.

Holding your other thigh up whilst whimpering, "I look ugly when I cry!" He rips the lace covering your pussy. Whilst kissing your nipples, which he sucks into his mouth, making you clench around nothing. As the lace digs into your breast roughly. Whilst the soft warmth of his tongue flicking your nipple contrasts it.

Letting your nipple go whilst nudging a finger past your wet lips. He curls his fingers, rubbing your squishy pussy. Stroking your clit softly with his thumb and encouraging you,

"You're going to be beautiful whimpering my name with your fat tears rolling down your face. I need to hear you cry about how good I'm fucking my pussy." Stretching your quivering hole, with another thick longer finger.

A loud cry passes your lips as toe-curling pleasure as you beg, "Please right there, don't stop touching your pussy right there." Pumping his finger faster, your pussy makes a loud squelch. As Satoru moans,

"Don't worry my beautiful baby girl, I'm going to keep taking care of you however you need me to." Slipping your fingers into his soft snow-white hair. Whilst whimpering,

"I'm so proud of you, sugar bear. You've always looked after me since day one and I wouldn't want anyone else to be my first." His bright blue eyes sparkle as he lowers his head and whispers against your lips,

"I love you." It doesn't take long for that pressure to snap. Thick clear slick coats Satoru's fingers. Whilst he kisses you roughly and groans loudly, muffling your whimpers. As you reach between both your body, grabbing his cock.

Smearing his thick pre-cum down his head. Satoru rocks his hips, slowly fucking your fist with just his tip. As you tremble beneath him and he breaks the kiss. And groans,

"My baby looks the prettiest crying. Good girl, relax into the pleasure your sugar bear is giving you." Slowly slipping his hand out from beneath your head. Whilst lowering himself between your legs. Whilst your body heats underneath his close attention.

He coos, "She's so beautiful taking my fingers, glistening wet with my soft little hole stretching for me." Switching his fingers with his tongue. His loud moans come one after another.

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[jjkamochoso]

Cupid’s Arrows

Noritoshi x gn!reader

Angst, fluff

Noritoshi teaches reader archery!!

Warnings: none

You needed to train. Your curse technique skills were fine, above average even, but your sparring abilities were… needing to be worked on. That’s why you were out on the Kyoto school’s lawn early in the morning, fighting to hold your own against Mai. Todo had offered to spar with you, but you weren’t in the mood to get completely pummeled so you kindly declined. You two were circling each other as you were presently at a standstill, neither of you going down without a fight. You were quietly planning where to attack next when your attention was caught elsewhere. You heard the tell tale thump of an arrow make contact with a target and from over Mai’s shoulder you saw Noritoshi practicing his archery not too far from where you stood. You were too busy staring at his perfect frame, perfect stance, perfect strong arms—

“Ugh!” you grunted out in pain as you harshly landed on the grass. Mai smirked as she declared herself the winner, laughing at how easy it was to swipe your legs from under you.

“I can’t believe you were so stupid to leave yourself vulnerable like that,” she said in her typical snarky manner. You knew she held no ill will toward you, though, as she extended her hand to help you up. You took it, muttering a quiet, “thanks,” and brushing yourself off. You’d already felt the bruise forming from falling on your shoulder and hoped it didn’t look too bad since your summer uniform was sleeveless.

“What had you so distracted anyway?” Mai mused. Following where your gaze was held once more, she couldn’t help but laugh again. “Kamo, huh? What, you got a crush on him?” When you didn’t answer, her eyes got wide and you knew you were about to get teased for the rest of your life.

“Oooh! Y/n’s got a crush!” she exclaimed and you attempted to cover her mouth so Noritoshi didn’t overhear, but she was too nimble and easily stepped away from your grasp. Before you knew it, Mai was beelining toward him and your stomach dropped, fearing she’d spill your embarrassing secret. You had never run so fast in your life but you were too late. She was already talking to him!

“Hi! Kamo! How are you this fine morning?” you asked, out of breath and sweaty when you finally joined them. You didn’t even want to know how you looked right now. You could only imagine the disgust Noritoshi must feel seeing you huff and puff like you were on death’s door. Thankfully, he seemed to pay no mind to it. You were grateful he was raised to be respectful.

“Hello, l/n. Mai was just about to tell me something,” he said, slightly irritated his archery practice was getting interrupted.

“Yes I was,” Mai answered smugly, “I was going to tell you that y/n—”

“Wanted archery lessons from you!” you blurted out, completely overtaking whatever it was Mai had said. Noritoshi tilted his head ever so slightly, presumably in confusion, so you pressed on. “I was sparring with Mai and I saw you practicing, but I told her I was too nervous to bother you so she came over instead.” You felt warmth creep into your face and down your neck and it wasn’t from all the physical exertion you had just done. Noritoshi raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh! I, uh… sure, I guess.” You breathed a sigh of relief that he believed you, but he continued on as Mai slowly backed away toward the dorms, a devious grin on her face. “But… why?”

“Well,” you said, your fingertips fidgeting with each other, “I really admire your skill. I think it’s cool you use an unconventional weapon against curses. And I’ve always thought it looked fun.”

Noritoshi looked away into the distance for a moment, seemingly deep in thought, before suddenly breaking the silence.

“Okay. Tell me what you know about archery.”

“Well, it’s ancient, it’s a sport in the Olympics, and Cupid does it,” you answered and Noritoshi let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So you know nothing?” he confirmed, you nodding in agreement with his assessment. “That’s fine. I can work with that. It’s easier to start from scratch than break old bad habits. Look at my stance and do exactly what I’m doing.”

You tried your best to stand the exact same way he was, but judging by the look on his face, you weren’t doing a good job.

“No, see, your front foot is all wrong and your back leg needs to look more like this.”

You tried to tweak yourself but you weren’t getting anywhere. You were already embarrassing yourself without even picking up the bow. You sighed, standing normally, and put your hands on your hips.

“Look, Kamo, I’m sorry for bothering you. I’m clearly not getting this so I’ll leave you alone. Thanks anyway.” You started to turn away, but his hand reached out to your arm, stopping you in your tracks. Noritoshi also must have realized what he had done and quickly retracted his fingers like you had burned him. After a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“L/n, you’re not giving up. You want to learn so I’m going to teach you. You can’t just turn away when you don’t understand something in your first try.”

“Fine. But when I get good enough at this, you’ll have to let me shoot an apple off your head like we’re in a cartoon.” You went back to where you were previously as Noritoshi let out what sounded like the tiniest laugh. You didn’t know he could be anything but stoic!

“I’ll pass on that offer as I enjoy living with both eyeballs in tact,” he replied. “Now, back to lessons. Stand like this.” When you felt you had it down, he came over to inspect you. You were extremely nervous. You never felt like you had caught Noritoshi’s gaze in the years you knew him and now all he was doing was staring you down. It certainly didn’t help when he leaned over you to straighten your shoulders. Satisfied with his work, Noritoshi picked up his bow and handed it to you.

“Please, be careful with this. The school’s gonna kill me if I break another one.” When he turned around to pick up an arrow, you decided to mess with him.

“How easy is it to fix a broken bow string?” you asked innocently. He whipped around to see you snickering and his bow perfectly fine.

“Don’t mess with me like that,” he grumbled, and you only laughed harder.

“Aww, c’mon Kamo, it was a joke!”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

“Well, good thing we’re not studying in clown school.”

“You’re right. If we were, we’d be at the Tokyo school right now.”

You gasped and hit his arm.

“Kamo! Did you just make a joke? That was actually funny!”

Noritoshi’s face held an amused look as he demonstrated how to hold the bow.

“I guess I’m teaching you two things today then.”

You scoffed jokingly, “I miss the quiet Noritoshi already,” and he gave you the tiniest hint of a smile. You liked seeing this side of him. You knew his hardships within the Kamo clan and you truly felt for him. You understood that he had way more at stake than you and most of your classmates so you tried your best to stay out of his way during missions, practice, and any other time you’d mess around with your peers. However, you knew he was probably lonely. He’d looked longingly at your group of friends, desperate to feel normal, to join in on the antics, but knew he had to keep up the perfect facade or else he’d be seen as a failure. You were just glad he hadn’t become too jaded in his life of isolation and perfectionism. It didn’t help that you had a huge crush on the seemingly most emotionally unavailable guy in jujutsu society. You couldn’t help it though. He was aloof, yet kind when needed. He was a strong, respectable leader, and at the root of every decision he made was compassion. He was extremely handsome too. You couldn’t get enough of his gray eyes, inky black hair that fell just right, his big, ever so slightly chilled hands that were currently readjusting how you were holding the bow—

Wait. You seriously needed to stop spacing out, especially since Noritoshi was so close to you that you could make out every detail on his face. You tried to calm your breathing and just focus on the techniques he was trying to teach you.

“—and then you’re good to go. Ready to try on your own?” he asked, stepping back, and you gave him a meek answer of affirmation. He gave you an arrow as you took a deep breath. Launching it, the arrow flew about 10 feet and flopped sadly into the grass. Noritoshi let out a frustrated sigh.

“Were you even listening to a word I said? I don’t know how to explain it any better than that,” he said, running his fingers through the untied hair at the back of his head. You had never seen anything more attractive than that action. You had never heard anything more attractive than his little laugh minutes earlier up until now when he asked:

“Is it alright if I stand behind you and guide you through it?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your head and he must’ve noticed how that sentence sounded because you noticed a deep blush rush to his face.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, I’m sorry. Was that weird? That was weird. I meant—”

“No, no, please, have at it. I’m all yours,” you tried to console him, and he nodded, keeping his eyes cast down.

“Please, stop me if I come too close to you or am touching you too much. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You could never make me uncomfortable, Noritoshi,” you replied. It felt odd using his first name but he didn’t oppose to it after the second time you used it, so you figured it was okay. Besides, his chest was pressed firmly against your back while his hand rested on your wrist near the bowstring. It was a very intimate position so you figured first names were allowed for this occasion.

“Okay, we’ll try this again. First, you have to stand tall.” His fingers drifted down to your waist to adjust you, then up to your shoulders once more. You tried to even your breathing so you didn’t pass out from being so close to him. His voice was soft and even more angelic when he was practically whispering in your ear. You were lucky no one else was up because if anyone saw what was going on between the two of you, in a public setting no less, you’d definitely get reprimanded. Even if you did get caught, you would have absolutely no regrets. Being in Noritoshi’s presence like this was worth a lifetime of detentions.

“Good. Now, make sure your front arm holds steady. You want it straight, but not locked up. Yes, just like that. Here’s the fun part. When you pull back the string and the arrow, you should keep it close to your face.” Speaking of closeness and faces, Noritoshi’s nose was practically in the crook of your neck as his fingers ghosted over your arm that held the arrow. The bowstring took its place on your cheek but you wished it was his lips instead. You felt his heart thudding in his chest as he kept his stance against you and you tried to ignore what that meant. You figured he was just nervous to be so close to somebody, especially in a semi compromising position, not because he could smell your delightful shampoo and could easily reach down to kiss your neck—

“Now, y/n, you can let go.” Noritoshi literally whispered in your ear, but he didn’t care. He was craving to show you the tiniest bit of softness he could, to show you how much he truly cared for you. If his love could only show itself during archery lessons, so be it. When you saw the arrow imbedded in the bull’s eye of the target, you wanted to jump and yell in excitement, but you couldn’t get yourself to pull away from Noritoshi. Noritoshi, who, by the way, just called you by your first name. Were you reading into this too much? Did he actually return your affections? And if not, why was he leaving lingering touches on your shoulders?

“You have a bruise on your shoulder,” he murmured, his voice sounding like his thoughts were a million miles away. The pad of his finger was barely grazing over the now deep purple spot and you felt goosebumps rise up all over your body. You shifted around to face Noritoshi but he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“I know, I got it from Mai earlier this morning. She really knocked me down.”

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he told you hurriedly. You were taken aback by his statement.

“It’s just a bruise, I’ll be alright, I promise,” you teased, but that didn’t seem to help.

“It’s not just the bruise, y/n, I just… I don’t like seeing you get hurt at all. On missions, in training. It just brings up all these feelings, ones that I shouldn’t have. And it’s not just that. Today, teaching you archery, being so close to you. I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong.” He tried to back up but you filled the space once more, not ready to give him up. “I can’t have these types of feelings for anyone, it’s not fair. Especially not to someone as good and kind like you. I can’t hurt you like that. I could never live with myself if I hurt you.” You could’ve sworn you saw tears in his eyes but they were quickly wiped away with the sleeves of his uniform.

“Noritoshi, listen. I don’t know what kind of feelings you have for me, but I really like you. I would never want to jeopardize your position with the clan, that’s why I never said anything.” He shook his head, his tied hair swaying with every move.

“I hate this. I hate this position that I’ve put you and I in. I love you, y/n, from the first day we met. I’m sorry I can’t be the man you deserve.” He tried to turn away, but this time, it was you who reached out and grabbed him.

“Noritoshi, stop. It’s alright. Just know that I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. As a friend or whoever you want me to be. Just know you’re not alone, okay? Not anymore.” You dropped his arm, instead giving him a playful shove on the shoulder. “Thank you for the lesson today. It really was a lot of fun. And hey, you must be a great teacher! You got me, of all people, to get a bullseye!” That, at least, made him smile a bit. You thanked him again and gave him his bow as you walked back to your dorm. You were a bit disappointed, sure, but it wasn’t like your situation was either of your guys’ faults. Even if nothing romantic could come out of today, at least you were able to relish in his touch for a few moments. As you got clothes out for after your shower, you heard a knock at your door. It was still fairly early so you didn’t know who it could be.

“Mai, if that’s you, nothing happened—”

When you opened your door, you were met with a frantic looking Noritoshi who, without hesitation, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a kiss. You immediately melted like putty in his hands, your lips perfectly fitting against his like you two were missing pieces of each other’s puzzles. When you both begrudgingly pulled away for air, he turned serious and got down on both of his knees, holding your hands while almost bowing to you.

“I can’t go another day denying my feelings. As you know, I’m in love with you and I can’t stand being parted from you any longer. I’ll make it work with the clan and do whatever it takes so that I can stay with you however long you’ll have me. If you’ll have me.” When he looked up at you, you’d never seen Noritoshi with such sad, pleading eyes, and you hoped you’d make him so happy he’d never have to look at you like that again. You bestowed a loving kiss onto his cheek and afterwards pulled him up off the floor and into your arms for a hug. You didn’t know what the future had in store for you two, but you knew that he would be by your side, no matter what.

#noritoshi x reader #noritoshi #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #noritoshi kamo x reader #noritoshi x y/n #noritoshi kamo #noritoshi x reader fluff #noritoshi x reader angst #noritoshi kamo x reader fluff #noritoshi kamo x reader angst