#Schools open despite closing instructions

[struggling-with-drivers]

People Watching - Lando Norris

⋗ Pairing - Lando Norris x Reader

⋗ Summary - You've never been in love, at least you don't think you have

⋗ Word count - 2k words, fluff, [Requested by Anon]

⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, this was just a short cute idea I had on my mind after getting a request. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

You’re enjoying a nice lunch with Lando. He has a lot of things to be doing after, but for now. It’s just the two of you, a set of good friends. Your eyes wander over his face, a soft look of concentration is on his face as he tries to take pictures of you and your lunch. The way his lips are slightly strained, as he keeps fiddling with his camera. Then he rearranges your glasses, and then he puts them back, before rearranging them once more. 

“Do you need help?” You ask, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, as he can’t seem to get the shot he wants.

“No no, just keep sitting there, you look good!” He chirps up, quickly dismissing the thought of you moving from the pose he instructed you into. 

Your laugh finally makes it way past your lips, at the absurdity of the scene, your eyes close as the flash goes off once more. You don’t notice how Lando mutters, got it, nor how he takes a few more just for his enjoyment. 

“Time to dig in.” Lando scrambles to sit down and stuffs his mouth with his slightly cold food. 

You stick a bit to your food, but your gaze falls out onto the crowd of people navigating outside. So many couples are spread across the grid as all the fans gather to get a closer look at the cars. Despite your perspective from above, the thing most glaring to you seems to be all the hands clasped into others. 

“How long do you think they’ve been together?” 

“What?” Lando looks up from his plate of food, trying to follow your gaze, but he gets lost in the crowd of people immediately, not at all being able to figure out where your eyes are looking. 

“The elderly couple.” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing, as though there aren’t multiple, as though you and Lando didn’t call Max Verstappen and his girlfriend an elderly couple last weekend, despite Max barely being 2.5 years older than Lando and less than 2 years older than you. 

“Three days.” Lando says, voice full of conviction, “They actually met this Tuesday and have had the wildest sex for 3 days straight, before any of their children realise that their parents are missing from the nursery home.” 

You snort loudly, accidentally getting soda into your nose, making Lando laugh with you, as you struggle to breathe. 

After recovering from your soda mishap, you wipe your nose with a napkin, still chuckling. Lando grins mischievously, taking a sip of his drink as he watches you with amusement.

“Smooth move, right?” he teases, referring to his imaginative tale about the elderly couple. “I mean, who wouldn't want a love story like that? Beats the usual 'met in high school and got married' scenario.”

You both share another round of laughter, the casual banter making the lunch even more enjoyable.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” You sigh wistfully as you glance down at the crowd of people once more. “Not seriously. I mean, I’ve had a fling here and there, and a few you don’t know about.”

“Ouch.” Lando mocks being hurt, as he throws a piece of lettuce in your direction. Missing you completely. He’s an excellent driver, but a terrible thrower. You’re suddenly elated that he never became a handball athlete or a basketball player. 

“I just mean, I’ve never had that big grand love moment, you know. Nobody has ever done any big gestures, I’ve never had fireworks go off during a kiss. Never pictured that American suburban picket fence dream, you know?” You rattle off as Lando leans his head to the side. You can see the grin on his face before the words leave his mouth. 

“And here I thought you loved me,” he throws another piece of lettuce in your direction. It lands on your plate, and you cock an eyebrow at him, very unimpressed. “I don’t think I know anyone else that would get up at 3 am just to make the world's worst pancakes, all because it’s some pancake holiday, and I had to be out of the door at 5 am.”

The memory of that early morning springs vividly to your mind, and you can't help but chuckle at the recollection.

The night before Pancake Day, you meticulously planned your pancake surprise for Lando. You envisioned a perfect morning: the smell of freshly made pancakes wafting through the air, the joy on Lando's face as he discovered the delightful breakfast you had prepared just for him. However, the universe had other plans.

At 3 am, you tiptoed into the kitchen, trying your best to be as quiet as a ninja. Armed with a box of pancake mix, a whisk, and an optimistic spirit, you were ready to conquer the culinary world for the sake of surprising your friend.

The kitchen was dimly lit, and you moved with caution, not wanting to wake anyone up. As you began mixing the ingredients, you felt a surge of determination. This was going to be the breakfast surprise of the century. You even hummed a little tune as you worked, believing that love and effort could conquer any culinary challenge.

However, in your sleepy stupor, you made a crucial mistake. The sugar and salt containers looked eerily similar in the low light, and without double-checking, you confidently poured what you thought was sugar into the mix. Little did you know, you had just set the stage for a disastrous flavour profile.

Undeterred, you moved on, mistakenly grabbing the baking powder instead of the baking soda. As you mixed the concoction, the batter started to take on an unusual texture, but you pressed on, convinced that your culinary masterpiece was just a few flips away.

With the batter ready, you heated the pan and poured the first pancake, envisioning its perfect golden-brown finish. However, the sizzle that followed was more like a hiss, and the kitchen started to fill with an unpleasant aroma. You tried to fan away the smoke, hoping that the burnt scent wouldn't reach Lando's bedroom.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. As the smoke thickened, a piercing sound echoed through the apartment – the unmistakable wail of the smoke detector. Panic set in, and you rushed to open windows, waving a towel at the alarm, and desperately trying to save the surprise.

Meanwhile, Lando stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the cacophony of the smoke detector. He stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and disoriented, only to find you amid your culinary chaos, smoke billowing around you.

“Ah, Pancake Day,” you say with a grin. “I thought it would be a fantastic idea to surprise you with a breakfast feast before your busy day. On the other hand, I gave you a free day off from having to sit in on a bunch of meetings.”

“Yeah, because my house nearly burnt down, and a bunch of firefighters showed up.” Lando waves his fork at you. “I doubt a lot of other people would have done that.”

“Tried to burn down your flat?” You mock him, as you flick the piece of lettuce back to his plate. 

He laughs, shaking his head. You’re missing his point, but he’s also not attempting to make it clearer for you. 

“What about when I stay up with you on the phone, because a sale is starting past midnight, but you’re barely holding it together and it’s not even 10 pm? Isn’t that an act of love?” He asks, but he leaves no room for you to answer his question as he goes back to eating. 

Lando can’t see the storm that’s slowly brewing behind your eyes, as you go over memories of your friendship. All the small things you do for each other. All the time you spend together. 

As the memories flood your mind, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The snippets of shared moments and small gestures between you and Lando become a cherished montage.

There's the time when he surprised you with a playlist of your favourite songs on a day when you were feeling down, the carefully curated mix capturing the essence of your friendship. You remember the genuine joy on his face as he handed over the playlist, completely aware of how much music meant to you.

Then, there are the instances when you stayed up late into the night, listening to his racing stories and sharing in his victories and disappointments. You recall the laughter and camaraderie that transcended the distance, making those late-night conversations a treasured part of your connection.

Lando smirks mischievously as he eyes the last bite of your dessert.

"Mind if I grab that last piece? You know I need the extra energy for my thrilling life as a driver."

You narrow your eyes at him, holding the fork protectively. "Oh, please. The only thrill you get is trying to beat me at Mario Kart."

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I'll have you know that being a Mario Kart champion requires skill and precision. It's practically a training regimen for the racetrack."

You scoff, taking a deliberate bite of the dessert. "Skill and precision? Last time I checked, you kept getting stuck in the void on Rainbow Road."

"That was a strategic move. I needed a better view of the stars," he replies with a grin, trying to swipe the fork again.

You playfully slap his hand away. "Nice try, but you're not getting this last piece. I already had to fight off your trainer once this month, because you keep stealing my food."

Lando feigns offence, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you saying I don't have the physique of a finely tuned athlete?"

"I'm saying you have the physique of someone who eats all the desserts that aren’t meant for finely-tuned athletes," you retort, 

He leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, at least I can burn it off on the track. What's your excuse?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I burn calories, dodging your attempts to steal my food. It's a full-body workout, really."

"Fair enough. But mark my words, next time we play Mario Kart, you won't stand a chance." Lando laughs, shaking his head. 

"Bring it on, slowpoke. I'll be waiting with banana peels and blue shells," you challenge, finishing the dessert triumphantly, savouring the last bite right in front of him. Silence falls as he starts typing on his phone, and your mind gets distracted by what he said earlier.

As Lando mentioned, the nights when he stood by you during stressful sales and business endeavours resurface in your mind. The unwavering support he offered, even when the clock struck midnight and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you, painted a picture of love in the small actions.

And of course, there are the countless times when he'd spontaneously pop by with your favourite snacks or the coffee blend you adore, just because he remembered. Those little acts of consideration spoke volumes.

Lost in these memories, you realise that love comes in various forms. It's not always grand gestures or sweeping romantic moments. It's found in the everyday kindness, the shared laughter, and the unwavering support that defines your friendship with Lando.

A thought strikes you down.

Do you love Lando?

Lando glances up from his phone, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He meets your gaze, and there's a silent understanding between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of shared laughter, failed pancake attempts, and genuine care, you realise that love, in its purest form, is already present in the beautiful tapestry of your friendship with Lando.

An even more terrifying thought hits you as he looks at you with that soft smile and those shiny eyes. 

Does Lando love you?

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, I had a lot of fun writing this small piece, it was just pure fluff and enjoyment

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #f1 #mclaren #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #mclaren f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #f1 x reader #delias own writing

[illyrianbitch]

A Hobby for Two

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: Cassian surprises you with a small gift. You spend the night teaching him how to properly enjoy it.

Warnings: drug use, just more lil high times, fluff!!!

Word Count: 3k

An installment of the Mirthroot Mini-Series

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

“There you are, sweetheart.” 

You smiled at your mate's words as he stretched out a hand, beckoning you to him. You closed the door behind you before making your way to where he sat on the edge of the bed, a deep sense of ease settling over you as you situated yourself to stand between his legs. You reached out, hands finding their way to his face, gently tracing his features before lacing your hands through his hair and running them down his scalp.

Cassian's eyes fluttered closed, a happy hum escaping his lips at the tender touch. His arms enveloped you in a tight embrace, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him with a gentle squeeze. He leaned his head forward, smothering himself into your chest. You could practically feel his grin as he let out another content sigh.

“When we die, I want us to be buried like this so I can rest forever as a happy male.”

You let out a snort. “In between my boobs?”

Cassian nodded, the movement causing friction along the material of your shirt. You shook your head in disbelief, a smile on your lips. You tugged yourself out of his grip slightly, watching as he emerged from his self-declared safe space and looked up at you with gentle eyes.  Your heart fluttered.

“You’re dumb.” 

Cassian grinned at that, pulling you forward slightly to place a quick, chaste kiss on your sternum. “Only for you.” 

Your smile widened, a small heat traveling to your cheeks.

“I have a surprise for you,” Cass said after a moment, the grin still plastered on his face.

You frowned slightly, narrowing your eyes. “What kind of surprise?”

There was a glint in his eyes. 

“A good one.”

Your smile changed into a smirk, your mouth falling open slightly as your eyebrows raised. "Oh?" 

“Mhm,” Cassian nodded eagerly. His eyes ran over your face before a look of realization painted his features, his eyes widening slightly. "Wait, no, not that kind," he quickly corrected himself.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Cassian wasn’t one for surprises— mostly because he could never keep secrets. Not properly, at least. The only surprises of his that worked were ones about sex– and that was because he could reveal the surprises as soon as he’d gotten them. 

“Oh,” you finally replied, “So, not sex?” 

"I mean, if you want, obviously that's on the table." Cassian reassured with a playful smirk, hand traveling from your waist to give your ass a playful squeeze. “That’s always on the table. But that isn't my surprise."

"Okay, so what is it?"

Without missing a beat, Cassian pulled you down to sit on his knee, a hand settling around your back. "Close your eyes," he instructed, his voice soft and inviting.

He was too excited. It was suspicious. 

"Cassian," you stated, your eyes narrowing. 

He frowned slightly, his expression morphing into one of puppy dog eyes as he pleaded, "Pleaseeeee."

Despite your resolve, you let out a soft sigh. "Fine," you conceded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. You let your eyes fall closed.

You felt as Cassian leaned to the side– towards the bedside table, you assumed, both of your bodies responding to his movements. A few more sounds followed, the opening and closing of a drawer and Cassian’s barely audible sounds of anticipation, ones that almost mirrored the excited giggles of a school boy. You squeezed your eyes together tighter now, preparing yourself to flee if needed, slightly flinching at every new sound. 

You loved Cassian. You trusted him with your life. But that trust didn’t extend to mundane “surprises”. If it wasn’t a random alleycat brought into your shared home at 2 am, it was him showing up with broken bones because he lost a bet and wanted you to hear the weird sound his arms made when he jumped.

“Cassian, I swear to the Mother if this is another weird bug, so help m-”

Cass chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest and against your body. 

“Sweetheart, trust me.”

You let out an impatient breath. 

“You’re making it real hard to.”

He let out another small chuckle, his thumb rubbing circles against your skin where his hand held you. 

"Put your hands out.”

You listened, tentatively extending your palms up. Within seconds, you felt something light being placed in your hands, the edges of the object pressing gently against your skin. 

"Okay, open those beautiful eyes.”

With a quick inhale, you complied, slowly parting your eyelids to reveal the surprise he had prepared for you.

“A box?”

Cassian nodded with a smile.

“Yup.”

"I'm assuming my gift isn't the box?" you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Cassian shook his head, his grin widening. "Not this time.”

He was giddy. Too giddy, you would say. 

“Cass, what's in this box?”

"Open it." 

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you regarded him skeptically.

"Cassian. If I open this and there's a bug, I—" you started, your tone laced with a hint of warning.

“You’ll kill me and dump me in the Sidra, yeah, yeah I know,” Cass interrupted with a wave of his other hand. He gave you a pointed look. “It's not. I promise.”

Reluctantly, you took a deep breath, pushing aside your apprehension as you carefully untied the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box.

The smell hit you immediately as the lid was lifted, the familiar earthy aroma wafting from the box and enveloping you in its comforting embrace. With a soft gasp, you brought the box closer to your face, inhaling deeply, the scent of mirthroot filling your senses.

Your eyes widened in delight as you beheld the small pile of mirthroot nestled inside the box, a smile spreading across your face. Cassian watched you intently as he waited for your reaction.

Without hesitation, you reached out, gently picking up a piece of the mirthroot, looking at him with parted lips.

“You got me some mirthroot?”

He nodded, the hand that was once holding the box now settling on your thigh. 

You smiled, breathing in the smell once more as you placed the small nugget of mirthroot back into the box. Then, you frowned slightly. 

“Why is it in a box,” you thought out loud. Usually mirth was placed in airtight containers, small plastic things that made it easy to carry with no smell. Almost everyone you knew that sold their mirthroot put it in such containers for ease of access and transportation. You’d never seen it in a box before. 

Cassian laughed, mouth dropped open as he stared at you. “When did you become so pretentious about your mirthroot, huh?” His voice was light, a teasing tone that made you want to roll your eyes– lovingly, of course. “Are my boxed drugs not good enough for you, sweetheart?”

You let out an amused scoff. 

“They’re more than enough,” you said as you placed the box in your lap, pulling Cassian into a small kiss. “I just ran out of my stash, too, so this is perfect timing.”

“I know.”

Cassian smiled and you gave his cheek a gentle pat with your hand before pushing yourself off his knee and making your way towards your bookshelves. You usually tucked away your mirthroot in a small wooden box, one delicately painted by Feyre as a Solstice gift and bound by Rhysand’s magic to be odorless. Though, you were sure that the last aspect of the gift was more for himself than it was for you. You quite liked the smell of Mirthroot– something natural and calming. Rhysand said it made your home smell like a skunk's ass. 

You picked the box up gently as Cassian’s voice ran out from behind you.

"I was thinking maybe we could smoke together tonight? If you'd want." 

You turned to face him, hands still holding the two boxes. You stared at him, a frown creasing your brow as you processed his suggestion. "Really?" 

Cassian's expression fell at your hesitation. "Well, not if you don't want to, I just thought—" 

"No, no," you interjected quickly, your frown softening as you started walking back towards him. "I'd love to. I'm just surprised, that's all."

While he was a man of many talents, Cassian wasn’t great when it came to mirthroot. He’d tried multiple times, buying the best quality mirthroot to surprise you or joining the small circles at events you’d host. But he either ended up completely faded– vomiting and unable to move– or wasting half of your stash when smoking because he couldn't figure out how to inhale properly as the mirthroot quickly burned away. Either way, it never worked. So, slowly, it became a solo hobby of yours, a time to cool down and forget about the worries of your daily life, joined by the occasional company of Azriel or Amren. You never minded.

Cassian let out an exasperated sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he spoke. "Is this about last time? Because I know it wasn't great but it wasn’t that bad." 

"You vomited all over me," you interrupted, a wry smile playing on your lips as you recalled the less-than-ideal outcome of your previous attempt at getting high together. “And Rhysand. And the couch.” 

Cassian winced at the reminder, but then he nodded earnestly. "Okay, not my finest moment. But,” he said, as he reached out and pulled you closer to him with a hand around your waist, “That was a gummy. Tonight we’re just smoking. It’ll be great.”

His words sparked a glimmer of hope within you. Despite your lingering doubts, you felt a sense of excitement at the idea of sharing the night with your mate, doing one of your favorite hobbies. 

“Y/n,” Cassian said once more, “I got it.”

You grinned and nodded.

“Fuck yeah, you do.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Cassian, in fact, did not get it.

You'd spent the last few minutes delicately grinding your mirthroot and packing it in the beautiful pipe Azriel had gifted you a few birthdays back. You carefully explained to your mate exactly what he should do, and where he possibly went wrong the times before.  Now, you both sat on your balcony, the gentle night breeze enveloping you in a softness that stood in stark contrast to the ragged sounds Cassian was emitting as he struggled.

"Cass, my love, you have to inhale it.”

"Baby, I am,” he said, breaking apart from the pipe with a heavy cough. 

Your gaze shifted to the pipe in his hand, the mirthroot dwindling with each failed attempt. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the thought of burning through your new stash so quickly.

"No, you're holding it in your mouth and killing your throat.”

Cassian scowled. “This isn’t working and it tastes like ass.”

“Well let's hope not,” you murmured with a slight chuckle as you leaned forward. “Let’s try again. Watch me.”

You took the small pipe from his hands, feeling the weight of it in your own as you prepared to demonstrate. You lit it with a spill, the flame flickering briefly in the night breeze as you took a deep breath, the fragrant smoke filling your lungs.

As you pulled the pipe away from your face, you gestured with your free hand towards your chest, demonstrating the movement required to properly inhale. The action was deliberate and slow as you aimed to guide Cassian through the process. The mirthroot smoke swirled around you, its earthy aroma mingling with the cool night air as you held the breath for a moment, allowing the soothing effects of the herb to wash over you. Then, you exhaled slowly, letting the smoke slowly filter from your parted lips.

"I literally did that," Cassian grumbled.

He was growing frustrated, something that often happened when he failed to enjoy this particular hobby properly. You knew Cassian was easily bothered by things he felt lacking in, skills that he thought he should be good at. You gave him a small gentle smile.

 "C'mon," you encouraged gently, scooting closer to him on the cushioned chair, offering him the pipe. "It's still lit, just take a deep breath," you urged, your voice a soft murmur in the night air.

Reluctantly, Cassian reached for the pipe once more, his fingers wrapping around it with determination. With a resigned sigh, he brought the pipe to his lips, inhaling deeply as he attempted to follow your instructions.

As he did so, you placed a hand on his chest and another on your own, guiding him through the motion with gentle reassurance. Together, you took a deep breath. You watched as Cassian’s eyes fluttered closed and he properly inhaled for the first time that night.

A surge of excitement passed through you, a smile spreading across your face as you watched him. As if registering the moment, Cassian’s eyes lit up with excitement, smoke escaping his mouth as he let out a cough. 

“Sweetheart,” he said with a grin, “Did I do it?”

You nodded, pulling your lip in between your teeth. Cassian’s grin grew and he leaned forward to kiss you, briefly pulling apart to stare at the pipe in his hands as if it was the Cauldron itself.

"That was fun," he said, his grin growing more infectious as he looked at you with newfound enthusiasm. “Again.”

He brought the pipe to his lips once more and you gently lit it. His hand tenderly grabbed yours and held it against his chest as he took a long draw. You felt the deep breath beneath underneath your fingertips. He pulled back with a violent spurt of coughs, a smile still evident on his lips.

"Okay, big boy, don't get too overconfident," you teased as you squeezed his hand playfully.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Half an hour later, the pipe, now cold and empty, lay on the glass table as you and Cassian laid on the couch, his arms wrapped around you as you leaned against his chest. Above you, the stars shone brighter than before, the night air now wrapping around your body in a way that felt alive. Cassian let out a sigh. 

“It feels like someone traced my body and is now running ice along the outline.”

You laughed, your cheeks straining from the smile on your face. A shiver ran through your body, rolling down your skin in waves. You let your head fall back onto Cassian’s chest. “I know exactly what you mean.” 

A moment passed, and then Cass leaned down, placing a kiss on your head.

“The first time I realized I loved you was when you were smoking.”

You let out a breath, maneuvering your body to lean your side against his chest so that you were able to meet his eyes— a deep, rich brown now staring at you through heavy, puffy lids.  Your movements felt languid and fluid, your body suspended in a floating sensation.

“Really?” 

Cassian gave you a small smile and nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” he responded, his voice low. His head lolled to the side slightly and he looked up at the sky as he pulled the memory from his mind. “Up at the cabin, the winter that Mo-”

“Mor got those horrible bangs,” you finished for him, letting out a small laugh at the memory. “It was just you and I that night.”

You didn’t remember much about that night. After all, it was centuries ago and all of you weren’t sober for the majority of the trip. Something about being young and reckless, the feeling of having the world at your feet. But you did remember that it was just you and Cassian. Mostly because you had the biggest crush on him. That version of you would be beyond happy to see herself now— a powerful warrior, mated to Cassian, still getting high under a clear night sky. 

Cassian looked down at you once more.

“I felt like a creep, couldn’t stop starin’ at you,” Cassian said eyes scanned your face, “Good thing you were so gone your eyes were practically closed the whole night.”

Your cheeks were hurting even more now, your smile stretching your muscles to a point of strain. 

“You were so calm, just making all these jokes. It made me realize I’d do anything to see that again, to see you safe and happy, at ease.” 

A warmth filled your chest as a strong tug pulled at you through the bond. You slowly pulled yourself up to give Cassian a kiss, the sensation of his lips against yours sending a wave of electricity through your body, the fuzzy feeling spreading through your face. 

“I still would,” Cassian whispered, “Even if that means heckling some of the street youths for drugs.”

You blinked, pulling back to furrow your brows with an incredulous smile. 

“Is that where you got it from?” You quietly asked, now letting out a sound of shock and amusement, “I knew it being in a box was sketchy!”

Cassian grinned in response, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced to the side and rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Hey, did it work or not?"

You shook your head, unable to suppress your smile as another laugh bubbled from your throat.

"Yeah, that's what I thought.”

You leaned your head against his chest, feeling a sense of ease as you were enveloped in the warmth of his embrace. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you into his embrace.

"Thank you for extorting teenagers for me,” you whispered, “I love you.”

You made a mental note to ask Cassian who exactly he tracked down for future reference-- whether to apologize or ask for more, you weren't sure yet. But for now, you closed your eyes and melted into the touch of your mate as the stars watched over you, scattered across the night sky like diamonds on velvet.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

An installment of the Mirthroot Mini-Series

a/n: just to let yall know these one-shots r super authentic cause i only write then when i am, too, on mirthroot

i’ve reuploaded this like 3 times because it kept posting weird (or i might’ve just been high idk) so i hope you w enjoyed!!!

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader fluff #cassian fluff #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian fanfiction #cassian fanfic #cassian fic #acotar fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #acotar fandom #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #mirthrootseries #cassian imagine

[117luv]

THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 6

synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.

genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication

taglist: CLOSED!

a/n: hi my loves! apologies since it took LONGER than my usual sched for updates which is average of 2 days, it just i have many things in mind and im having a minor writer's block hence the slow update but rest assured my update sched will be consistent since its my final week of school T.T ne ways enjoy n love ya <3

masterlist | previous | next

Having dinner with your ex is an awkward event, especially if it's your own kid who asked for the event to take place. Yn can't say no to her son, whom she hasn't been with for almost 15 years; it's the least she can do for him. As she got ready, the boys waited for her downstairs as they watched a show on the TV. A doorbell rang just after she went downstairs. She opened the door and met the eyes of the man who is not only the father of her children but also the guy she still deeply loves and cares about despite being apart for more than a decade. They got in his car and drove to the restaurant. The car ride was filled with the boys playfully teasing each other as she looked at the rear mirror. She was met with a scene she didn't think could be possible after all these years. Her twin sons are playfully bantering as Heeseung hums to the tune of the song playing on the radio. It felt like a family enjoying the weekend and having dinner together. A complete family she had wished she could have fought for in the past.

They stepped into the restaurant and sat at their table. The boys were busy looking at the menu while the two tried to avoid each other's glances. As the waiter got their orders and, after awhile, came out with their food. They peacefully ate while the boys shared stories while they were in the camp. She can see that the boys indeed have a bond with each other despite being apart for such a long time. It pains her that this could have been their reality if things had turned out okay. It was time for dessert, and Heeseung excused himself to go to the restroom, which she quickly followed as she instructed the boys to wait for them. As she found him, she quickly grabbed his arm and asked him if she could talk to him in a private area.

"What do you want us to talk about?" he asked. "I think we should tell them; I can't bear waiting any longer to see them not know about their situation, she responded. Heeseung gave her a reassuring smile and said, "Okay, if that's what you want, then we can tell them. They deserve to know about it." — "Thank you. We should wait and tell them when we arrive in my place since we are still in public, to which he nodded and agreed. They got back to the table, and the boys were just talking as they saw their parents. She told them that her and Ni-ki's dad would tell them about something. The ride back was silent as the boys felt nervous for what was about to happen.

"So, what do the both of you want to tell us?" Jungwon asked as they all sat on the sofa. "Okay, me and Heeseung have been hiding something. I know this might come as a surprise and if you two are angry or feel betrayed by the both of us, its completely understandable. Jungwon and Ni-ki, the both of two are twins. Ni-ki, I understand if you feel hatred towards me. I been nothing but an useless mom to you. I failed to give you the right to experience to have a mother. I as your mother would like to apologize deeply. I know my apology doesn't make up for the 15 years but I hope you know that I always have you in my mind. I prayed everyday that you and your dad are safe. That you're eating well and growing into a respectfully man. I'm always proud of you and I'm grateful to be your mother." as she spoke Ni-ki cant help his eyes to tear up. He finally found his mom, the woman for whom he had longed for a long time. He can finally have someone he can call 'Mom', or someone who will shower him with affection. The day had come, and he was the happiest he had been for the longest time. "Can I hug you?" he spoke to her, and she opened her arms as the boy hugged his mom. "I've been wishing to feel your hug for the longest time. Whatever reason you and dad have, you can just explain to us next time. I just want to hug right now. Also, does this mean I can call you 'Mom' and taste your meals?" the boy finally looked at his mom, who shared the same tearful eyes as she looked at him: "Yes, Sweetheart. You can call me 'Mom, and I will cook you anything that your heart desires. Anything for my baby." as she placed a kiss on his forehead.

As the scene unfolds in front of Jungwon. He can't help but look at Heeseung, who is sitting near him. His dad is within arms reach; he can't believe he can finally meet him. He got up and hugged him tightly. "I can't believe I can finally hug you, Dad, he said while the older male hugged him tighter. "Me too, Kid. Me and your mom want to apologize about everything. The both of you don't deserve this but we can't undo the past anymore. Let me make for years I wasn't there for the both of you." Heeseung replied, "Thank you for telling us. As Ni-ki said, just explain to us next time. I want to be with you, I really want to be close to you." he said as Heeseung caressed his hair and placed a kiss on top of his head while hugging him. The day ended on a good note. There were many emotions poured out, and the four of them hugged together. The family is finally complete.

taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @jhopesucker @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @aefolrin @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @enhaz1

#the parent trap — lhs 🌷 #enhypen #heeseung x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #sunoo x reader #enhypen imagines #jay x reader #jungwon x reader #ni-ki x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen au #enhypen smau #enhypen masterlist #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #heeseung smau #enhypen social media au #lee heeseung x reader

[taytrashmouth]

Meet me in the pouring rain

Harry James potter x fem reader.

Inspired by this pin: https://pin.it/2JlvuwrlR

It was your fifth year at Hogwarts, and you were always sort of alone. You had friends but they were never close. You were one of those in between people in school. Those people your classmates will remember in 10 years but won’t know anything about you.

Today was a cold day and despite that, the common room was far too busy to be reading in. And so you sat on the bleachers while the quidditch practice was happening below, to finally read your book in peace.

You could vaguely hear Harry shout instructions every now and again. Harry Potter was possibly one of your favourite people, simply because he was always nice to you.

He would lend you pens in class or explain something in defence against the dark arts. He check in on you at least once a week. He gave you his scarf at hogsmeade once because he said you looked cold.

And despite his fame, he kept to himself. What you didn’t notice was the subtle glances he kept sending you, the smile on his face when you wore his scarf. The stolen touches when teaching you how to get the correct brew.

Your nose was deep into the book you were reading you didn’t even notice Harry watching you from his broom.

In fact in was halfway through practice already when you finally looked up from the pages. And it was only because it had started to rain and your book was going to get wet.

You tucked your book into your coat and awkwardly ran down the stairs of the tent to run back to the castle…which was ages away.

“I’ll be right back” Harry told his team, squinting through the rain. He angled his broom downwards and zoomed through the entrance to the stadium, grabbing an umbrella in the process.

He quickly caught up to you on his broom and held the umbrella above you from his seat in the sky.

You looked up in confusion to see the boy on his broom above you sheltering from the rain.

You smiled. “Thank you Harry.”

Even those three basic words were enough to make him blush.

He put a hand by his eyebrows in attempt to block the water from his glasses.

He flew beside you as you walked, keeping you dry.

“What are you doing out at the quidditch field?” Harry asked.

“Trying to find a quiet place to read.” You replied blankly, still holding the book to your chest in attempt to save the pages.

Harry looked like he wanted to say something but he didn’t.

“What?” I asked.

“I know a place, by the lake…it’s quiet there. I can show you if you’d like…maybe you could read to me.” He stuttered.

I smiled. He was bright red and so was I.

“That- that would be nice.”

He smiled back and then to the floor. “That’s- good. Good that’s good.”

“I wouldn’t mind watching you practice though…” I spoke up, testing the water. Maybe Harry liked me….

He looked a bit shocked. “I’d like that. Great,” he smiled even wider.

When we arrived at the castle he hopped of his broom.

“Meet me here, noon, Tomorrow.” He said moving closer. “Bring a book,”

I blushed. And nodded.

He gave me a hug and said goodbye.

That same evening I was woken up by something I couldn’t see. That was until Harry took of his invisibility cloak

“Harry! What are you doing here?” I whisper, trying to open my eyes all the way, still half-asleep.

“I want to show you something.” He said.

“I’m in pyjamas.” I say, not that impressed with his timing. He seems to brush this off and shows me his pyjama pants.

I drag myself out of bed and follow him with my book in hand as per usual. Trying to fix my hair.

He leads me up a lot of stairs, hogwarts still feels so homey without the people all over the halls. Despite my asking he’s insisting it’s a surprise.

We reach the astronomy tower and he’s got the roof open and has placed down a blanket with cups of tea next to it.

I look up at him, feeling so special. He was so sweet. “Harry…this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” I tell him and lean closer on my toes to kiss his cheek gently, brushing his other cheek with my hand.

“I-I couldn’t wait, to see you…I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” He stutters, blushing like a mess.

I smile wider as we sit on the blanket and lie down looking at the stars. I’ve never seen them so bright.

Harry pretends to yawn to put his arm around my shoulders, I smile at how cheesy it is. It was kind of cute though.

I cuddle next to him and rest my head on his chest. I can almost hear his smile.

He takes my hand in his and immediately leans on his elbows.

“You’re freezing.” He lets out.

“I’m alright, really.” I tell him but it’s too late he’s already out of his quidditch jumper and handing it to me.

“Thank you.” I say softly and put it on.

We lean back to our original position.

“I like you a lot y/n.” He says, not nervous sounding anymore.

“I like you a lot too Harry. All of this means so much to me.” I reply and smile at him, lying on my side.

He sits up a little too and I don’t know who moved closer first but soon enough his lips were on mine and his hands were on my frostbitten cheeks. I placed a hand in his hair, almost wanting to pull him closer.

When the kiss finally broke we both just smiled, with a breathy laugh.

We watched the stars for hours until the sun began to rise.

“Read to me.” Harry whispered in my ear, stroking his fingers through my hair.

And I did, and he held onto every word.

#harry james potter x reader #harry james potter x reader fluff #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry james potter #y/n #harry x reader #hogwarts oc #quidditch #gryffindor #female reader #x reader

[cloveswifey]

REAL TO ME - MATTHEO RIDDLE

Chapter Three

Series MasterList

As I hastily changed into my school uniform, a wave of nerves engulfed my body. I had overslept, missing breakfast, and my roommate Pansy was nowhere to be found. Despite the strong temptation to skip school and retreat to my dorm room for the day, I reluctantly suppressed that urge.

Taking a deep breath, I made a conscious effort to shake off those thoughts and adopt a nonchalant demeanor. Just as I was mentally preparing myself, the door swung open dramatically, unveiling the sight of my roommate and best friend, already dressed in her uniform and carrying her bag, ready to embark on the day ahead.

"I can't wrap my head around the fact that you're dating Mattheo! It's crazy!" Pansy exclaimed in disbelief as she closed the door. "I never would have guessed that you were secretly screwing Mattheo, while you both were pretending to despise each other." She giggled and crossed her arms,

I let out an awkward chuckle and replied, "Yeah, it's definitely a surprise."

Why on earth would I say such a thing? It couldn't have sounded any more suspicious than my appearance already suggested.

As I fidgeted nervously, she shot me a questioning look. "Is everything alright? You seem a bit tense."

I tried to play it cool. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I just need to go meet up with Mattheo in the common room."

She didn't seem convinced. "Are you sure? You sound a bit suspicious."

I cringed inwardly. "No, no, I'm good. Let's just grab my stuff and go."

She grinned, grabbing my bag and tossing it to me. "Alright then, let's get going!"

As we entered the common room, my gaze shifted upwards and I spotted Mattheo casually leaning against the side of the green sofa. Draco, on the other hand, was engrossed in twirling his wand, probably waiting for Pansy.

"Hey, beautiful," Mattheo greeted me, a slight curve forming on his upper lip.

"Hey," I responded, my voice barely audible, as I slowly approached him. Nervously, I chuckled at the thought of this being our first interaction as a couple.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling me towards him until I stood between his legs. His arms loosely encircled my waist, causing me to tense up once again. "Relax," he whispered in my ear.

"You two are just too adorable," Pansy let out a delighted squeal as she snuggled into Draco's lap, causing me to chuckle.

In a low, husky voice, Mattheo asked, "What's your first class?"

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Potions, silly. We're in the same class now, remember?"

Mattheo smirked, his hands still resting on my hips. "Oh, right. But can you keep up with me?"

I shot back with a smirk of my own. "Can you keep up with me?"

He feigned hurt, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch. Is that how you talk to your boyfriend?"

I grinned. "Yep, that's exactly how I talk to my boyfriend."

"You guys ready?" Draco inquired, a playful laugh escaping his lips, as he confidently moved closer to the painting, signaling our imminent departure.

"Pure-blood," Pansy murmured, as the painting's door slowly swung open.

As we made our way through the winding corridors of the dungeon, we finally arrived at the entrance of the Potion Classrooms. The sign above the archway read 'potions' in bold letters, indicating that we had arrived at our destination.

"Hey, did you hear about the new teacher?" Pansy exclaimed, as we walked in.

"Hey, you guys, grab the textbooks and join the rest of the students," instructed Slughorn while he was busy brewing a potion.

"Well, there you have it, Pansy," Draco chuckled, providing the answer.

As we made our way towards the bookshelf, it was hard not to notice the abundance of books. However, upon closer inspection, it became clear that there was a clever illusion at play. In reality, there were only three books on the shelf.

Draco and Pansy quickly snatched one to share, leaving behind two remaining books. One appeared weathered and aged, while the other had a pristine, new look.

I extended my hand to take hold of the fresh one, but Mattheo interjected, "the previous one."

I furrowed my brow and questioned, "Why?"

"Just grab it," he responded with a sigh, muttering, "you're so difficult."

"Why? Undoubtedly, the newer one would be far superior!" I countered.

"Quit acting like a spoiled child," he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he playfully tapped me on the head with the book.

"Hey!" I chuckled, as he swiftly pulled me close to his chest and planted a kiss on my cheek, maintaining the charade.

Beside Theo and Blaise, the four of us stood, with Blaise growing increasingly impatient.

"You guys took so long! Lavender Brown has been bothering me this whole time!" Blaise complained, frowning.

Theo couldn't help but laugh. "You should have seen the look on his face!"

I chuckled and teased, "It's all because of your good looks, Zabini."

Mattheo raised an eyebrow and challenged, "Is that so?"

I playfully rolled my eyes and retorted, "Oh, shush you!"

“Alright students, let's all calm down now...”Slughorn addressed the class.

"Today, we will be exploring the fascinating world of potent potions. Paying close attention to every detail during the preparation process is absolutely crucial." Slughorn emphasized, "It is the foundation of effective planning."

Slughorn's smile widened as the door swung open abruptly, interrupting his sentence. All of us turned our attention towards the archway, where the two boys stood, revealing their presence.

"Ah!" Slughorn exclaimed cheerfully, "Harry, my dear boy, I was starting to get concerned. It seems you've brought a friend along with you."

“Ron Weasley," the red-haired boy said with a frown, clearly not thrilled about being in this particular class. "I must admit, potions has never been my strong suit. It always seems to end in disaster, so I’m just gonna..." he trailed off, attempting to escape the class.

"Nonsense!" Slughorn interrupted him. "We'll help you out. Anyone who's friends with Harry is a friend of mine. Go get the textbook from the cupboard."

"Now, where was I?" Slughorn continued. "Ah, yes. I brewed some potions this morning. Can you guess what they are?"

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes as Granger's hand shot up in the air.

"Yes, miss...?"

"Granger, sir," she replied before stepping towards the cauldron.

“That over there is veritaserum... it's a serum that compels truthfulness. And that, would be… a polyjuice potion. This right here is amortentia, This is amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world… it’s rumoured to smell differently to each person, according to what attracts them."

She took a moment to lean closer to the cauldron and inhale deeply. "For instance, I smell freshly cut grass, along with the scent of new parchment and spearmint toothpaste." A slight frown appeared on her face as she pondered.

Slughorn continued to talk about how Amortentia doesn't actually create love.

"Sir, you haven't mentioned what's in that one," a student interrupted.

Slughorn picked up a small vial and said, "This is a fascinating potion known as Felix Felicis, but it's commonly referred to as-"

"Liquid luck," Hermione interjected, causing Draco to scoff once again at her intelligence.

"Fucking mud-blood" He grumbled.

"Yes, Miss Granger, liquid luck!" Slughorn grinned. "Extremely difficult to brew, disastrous if you make a mistake..." I started to drift off as his rambling became tedious.

"Are you ready, my love?" Mattheo asked.

"Hm?" I replied, confused.

"We're brewing The Draught of Living Death." He chuckled, "pay attention, beautiful." He took my hand and led me to an empty table with two cauldrons - one for Mattheo and me, and the other for Draco and Pansy -

"Go to page ten, love." Mattheo spoke, as I opened the book.

"Mattheo, there are notes on this page," I pointed out as Sopophorous Beans flew around the room.

"Notes? Where?" Mattheo asked, busy measuring out our ingredients.

I directed his attention to the writing beside the word "cut," which read "crush with a blade."

I frowned, unsure of what to do. Mattheo suggested we crush the beans instead of cutting them.

"Are you sure?" I asked skeptically.

"It doesn't seem like anyone is having much luck cutting them," he replied, handing me one of the beans.

I let out a sigh and proceeded to crush one of the beans using the back of my knife. Afterward, I carefully dropped the extracted juices into our cauldron.

Pansy looked puzzled as Draco attempted to slice the Sopophorous Bean, but his efforts were in vain. "How did you manage to do that?" she asked.

"You're supposed to crush it, not cut it," I explained.

"No, the instructions clearly state to cut it," Draco insisted, frowning.

"Leave us be," Mattheo chuckled, as Draco and Pansy groaned. “You’ll figure it out.”

Mattheo mixed the powdered asphodel root with wormwood infusion, resulting in our potion becoming transparent in the cauldron.

I furrow my brow, questioning, "Is it meant to be transparent?"

Matheo's gaze lingers on the potion as he mutters, "I think so..."

Slughorn quickly approached as I look up, a smile playing on my lips, and ask, "Are we finished?"

He smirks and nods, confirming, "Indeed you are."

"By Merlin's beard, it's perfect!" He smiles widely, before he adds a pink leaf to our concoction, causing it to vanish into thin air. "As I promised, you both shall receive a vial of it."

“Thanks sir.” I mutter my gratitude, not fully comprehending the purpose of the potion since I wasn't paying attention.

"Make good use of it."

…

“I told you to listen to me.” Mattheo had a smug grin on his face as we neared my dormitory.

After finishing our potions class, I finally had some free time and decided to take a nap.

"Stop being such a smart-ass." I replied, rolling my eyes.

Mattheo suddenly grumbled, "I'm bringing you to Hogmeade tomorrow!"

"Why?" I asked curiously.

"To help you shop for the masquerade ball," he replied with a chuckle.

"Oh shit, I completely forgot about it!" I exclaimed in shock.

"Don't worry, princess. Go take your nap," he said dismissively.

“We’re alone now… you don’t have to call me pet names.” I mumble with a frown, watching him start to walk away.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied as he descended the stairs.

…

A/N: Hey there! I know this chapter might have been a bit dull, but fear not! Exciting things are just around the corner. I also wanted to take a moment to express my gratitude for all your support. My apologies for being a bit inactive lately.

Tag list: @noah-uhhh-what @itsamusical4lifee

#cloveswifey #mattheo riddle series #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #at the office #mattheo #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x oc #the locked tomb #louis tomlinson #tom riddle

[devildom-moss]

PDA - kissing their cheeks (the side characters)

What happens when MC decides to kiss their cheek around others? It couldn't possibly go wrong, right?

(Thirteen x gn!MC) (Raphael x gn!MC) (Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +1,400

Thirteen

“You didn’t.” That was all you could say when Thirteen set a small box from Madam Devian’s and a large drink topped with whipped cream, maple syrup, crumbled cookies, and cinnamon down in front of you.

“Oh, but I did,” Thirteen refuted with a grin before she eagerly opened the box to reveal an adorable mini cake. It was the perfect size for a reaper to share with an equally adorable human of her choice.

“OMG,” Asmo squealed, “are those the early releases from Madam Devian’s new fall flavors? It’s all over Devilgram! You must have waited forever for those, Thirteen. You have to let me get a pic. Please?”

Thirteen kept her eyes on you. “MC is the only one I would wait in line for.”

So, sure, she didn’t get the cake only for you. Thirteen wanted to try it too. She had finished a drink of her own on the way to school. It wasn’t like she wasn’t just as excited about the new fall flavors, but the whole truth didn’t sound quite as sweet. A little half-truth was well worth it if she could put that affectionate smile on your face.

“Ugh, is anyone else super jealous right now?” Levi whined.

“The word you’re searching for is ‘disgusted,’” Mephisto corrected him.

“No. ‘Jealous’ sounds right to me,” Satan disagreed without putting his book down.

You ignored their complaints and focused all your attention on Thirteen. She didn’t like to make a big show of how much effort she put into making you happy, but that only made your affection and joy overflow. You wanted to pepper her with kisses and flood her ears with I-love-you’s. You wanted to, but you had to play it cool.

You got to your feet and leaned over the desk to kiss her cheek. The backs of your fingers caressed her other cheek as you did. “Thank you, Thirteen.”

Despite her internal joy, her smile dropped from surprise, and she froze up. Thirteen was pink in the cheek. When you pulled your hand away from her, she quickly grabbed it before it returned to your side. She leaned down and placed a kiss on the back of your hand with a smirk so wicked it overshadowed her blushing. As she rose back up, she instructed you, “now sit down, and I’ll feed you.”

Raphael

Luke had caught Asmo journaling between classes and took particular interest in the cute stickers Asmo had scattered on the table in front of him. Asmo offered to let Luke have whichever sticker he liked the most. When you walked by and Luked asked if he could pick out one more to give to you, Asmo couldn’t deny the small angel’s request. Luke pointed to a cute sticker of a sheep holding a cupcake, and Asmo nodded before he peeled it off. They called you over and Asmo promptly placed the sticker on your cheek. When Asmo told you that Luke picked it out, you knew you had to keep it on.

That was much earlier in the day, and you had gotten used to it by the time you ran into Raphael on your way home. He had just finished up some shopping, and he was delighted to spot you from across the street – although it didn’t show on his face much. As he approached to greet you, his brows furrowed.

He was looking at you like you had just clucked like a chicken or something. You hadn’t done anything weird yet – at least not to your knowledge.

Raphael tapped at his cheek with the same strange look on his face. Confused, you shrugged and closed the distance between you to kiss his cheek. You stepped back, hoping you had satisfied the vague criteria. You didn’t expect him to laugh at you. He started out slowly, as if each stifled laugh was trying to break through the wall of his stoicism, and it built up until he was covering his mouth, and his shoulders were shaking.

How unexpected. The surrounding demons on the street were far more distracted by an angel laughing than they were by you kissing his cheek. His reaction flustered you. Why was he laughing? Isn’t that exactly what he asked for? Raphael collected himself and shook his head before tussling your hair. “Honestly, MC. I was just wondering what you were doing with a sticker on your cheek.”

“Oh gosh.” That’s embarrassing. “I forgot about that. Asmo put it there. Luke picked it out, and I couldn’t bring myself to take it off.”

He sighed, understanding the sway the small angel had on anyone with half a heart. Raphael locked his arm with yours and began to drag you off in another direction. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?” you asked.

“I’m taking you back to my room. You seem to be in the mood to offer kisses to anyone who even hints that they want one. I’d like to monopolize on the offer – if you don’t mind.”

Some angel he was.

Mephistopheles

You and Mephistopheles took a second to catch your breath before you stepped out of the supply closet of the RAD Newspaper Club room. The sound of his moaning and panting still rang in your ear as you watched him button his coat up.

He had caught your arm in the hallway on his way to the student council room, and wherever you were going, he figured you could both afford to be a few minutes late. After all, Barbatos did tell him to stop by at his earliest convenience, and what was more convenient than a few minutes after he had the opportunity to conduct an exclusive investigation – off the record, of course? A couple of minutes was hardly enough time to explore every angle, but it would satisfy his curiosity for the time being. Mephisto didn’t know why he had justified his desires in his head with such obscured, coded language – as if someone was going to ask him what had happened, and he was going to need some suspicious response that would only hint at what he got up to with you.  

You smoothed the creases in your clothes out as you walked with Mephisto towards the student council room. It was on your way to the library, anyway. Mephisto raked his hands through his hair, hoping to tidy up the disheveled state you had left him in. Why did you always have to unravel him?

He was too embarrassed by his feelings for you to wrap his arm around you as you walked down the hall. He wouldn’t admit it to a single soul, but he was afraid to touch you in front of anyone. Did he even have the right to do that? So, when you both walked into the council room and you stopped him just to straighten out his hideous tie, Mephisto froze up. Barbatos, who had been expecting Mephisto to arrive alone, shot a glance at Lucifer as the scene unfolded. What an interesting turn of events. It was less amusing when you leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Mephisto’s cheek.

Mephisto was quick to cover the smile you had forced out of him. He didn’t want you to know how happy you had made him by doing something so insignificant. Unfortunately, his voice betrayed him. You could hear the smile. “What was that for?”

“I wanted to touch you one more time before I go.”

“Uhm,” was all Mephisto could manage. He didn’t know what to say to you. Why did you have to fluster him? He was so easy to tease; you had to know that by now.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying in the library with Belphegor, MC?” Lucifer’s annoyed voice cut through the silence and directed your attention away from Mephisto’s burning face. He had never been grateful to be in the same room as Lucifer before, but there was a first time for everything.

“I’m on my way now,” you informed him before returning your gaze to Mephisto. “See you later.”

Barbatos waited for you to leave before he chuckled. He grabbed the file of poll data he had gathered for the newspaper club and walked it up to Mephisto. “These are for you. I know I told you to come at your convenience, but I would advise against such delays in the future.”

Mephisto’s blood ran cold. He didn’t need that coded response he had readied at all. Barbatos seemed to see right through him. At least that meant that Lucifer probably did too, and that was a win in Mephisto’s book.

(the dateables version) | (the demon brothers version)

A/N: I was going to get to these eventually anyway, but I had some time and @snow-fall1 asked for it next, so here it is.

#thirteen #raphael #mephistopheles #gn!mc #obey me short fic #obey me side characters #obey me #obey me thirteen #obey me raphael #obey me mephistopheles

[notjustjavierpena]

Three Times You Didn’t Kiss Joel - And One Time You Did (Part II)

A/N: A cute summer romance has started! Enjoy chapter two! See my masterpost for all chapters.

Summary: Joel helps you restore your grandparents' house over the summer. You trip on a stepladder.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 no smut but mature thoughts (minors DNI), pining, summer romance, DILF Joel, sexual tension, idiots in love

Word count: 2.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47914783/chapters/120864268

Chapter Two: Wasp

The school’s summer vacation wasn’t around just yet, and so you found yourself spending a few days working on the front of the house alone or with Joel. He came by with Sarah whenever they were free, but Sarah mostly just did her homework whilst he cut the grass, drank lemonade, swept the stone path to your front door, took a look at the water tap at the back of the house, wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his gardening gloves… He was always eager to help you with whatever you had in mind as a project that day, but not scared either to tell you that the weather was great for painting the facade of the house. 

So that is what he and you are doing. Sarah is at school still, but you don’t mind a moment with him alone. 

You stand on your tippy toes on the stepladder that Joel assembled for you a few weeks ago. Weather wise, you are in a drought that makes coating the house in wood protection perfect because it’s not going to be raining for a few days (Joel’s words). On the side of the ladder, a bucket of the varnish hangs on a hook which you are continuously dipping the paintbrush into. 

You have gotten clear instructions on how to use the brush, nearly getting scolded for going up and down in the beginning until Joel had grabbed your wrist to make you go from side to side instead. You had let out a sir, yes, sir, and you had been able to hear him roll his eyes at you with a chuckle.

“Looks good, like I taught ya,” Joel says as he walks up behind you, holding the ladder in place as you paint along the boards. You hum quietly in agreement, a little lost for words as his face is level with your thighs and his hands are level with your calves. He could so easily reach out if he wanted to, but you haven’t felt his hands on you yet despite several opportunities, which has made you hyper aware of how one-sided your crush is. 

“I’m not completely hopeless, Miller,” you say as you continue working the brush from side to side. You’re glad that you didn’t wear a dress with the way that the soft summer breeze that rustles the leaves on the trees would have pulled at the skirt, exposing you more to him. 

“I’m just making sure that you know how to do this, so you can do it yourself a few years from now,” he replies, tapping his fingers on the warm metal of the ladder. He goes silent for a moment, but you don’t notice him staring at your exposed thighs in your shorts, because you have your back towards him. 

“That’s fine, but I won’t have any trouble finding someo—“ you’re just about to dip your brush into the varnish again when you spot a wasp close to your face. Your mouth falls open in a squeak, and you automatically take a step back to get away from the insect, “Joel, I’m allergic to wa— Ah!”

Your movement has made you fall backwards. You feel your ankle twist due to stepping too close to the edge of the step you’re standing on, causing you to lose balance and reach for the stepladder’s side, but you simply swing backwards to your right instead of saving yourself from the fall. You squeeze your eyes shut then tense up as you prepare for the impact of the ground. 

It never comes though. 

Instead, you’re caught in a pair of strong arms due to Joel’s dangerously fast reflexes. He has you in his arms, bridal style, looking down at you with big eyes as if he cannot wrap his mind around what he has just done. He doesn’t let go of you though, and the wild eyes that he is giving you almost has you courageous enough to kiss him right then and there, just to see if they’d widen even more or find peace. It would have made Sarah laugh, cringe visibly too, but mostly laugh at how cliché it would have been. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts again shortly after, because despite how bad you want it to be fireworks, sugar and pointed toes, you can hear the buzzing of the wasp close by. It makes your heartbeat spike even more.

“Wasp! Wasp wasp wasp! Joel!” You slap Joel’s shoulder to make him notice, panicking at the thought of being so close to the stupid animal. Joel frantically grabs you tighter and carries you away from the spot where you had been working and you listen carefully before confirming that the buzzing is gone. Whew. Your EpiPen is inside the house in a kitchen drawer, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell him where it was before it would have been too late and he would have had to call emergency services.

“Perhaps a pretty decent idea to tell me that you’re allergic to wasps before we started working outside in the middle of summer,” he huffs, but his tone isn’t angry, but more concerned as well as flustered, “Must’a been your bright colored top. They like that, don’t they?”

It’s your turn to be flustered, steadfast in holding your gaze at his eyes and not let it drop down to his mouth like it often did. You are too close to him to hide when your eyes start to roam around his handsome features. 

“Uh, Joel—“ 

“What?” Joel furrows his brows.

“Put me down, please?” You are blushing. 

“Oh,” Joel splutters, but soon easily bends down a little to place your feet back on the ground.

It isn’t easy for you though. You wince as soon as your right foot hits the grass, making you nearly tumble to the ground, but Joel quickly supports you so it doesn’t happen, and you grab the front of his shirt. Perhaps emergency services aren’t such a bad idea after all.

You frown despite the opportunity to lean your whole frame into Joel’s strong body. He has an arm wrapped around your waist, so you can stand on one leg without tipping over. You take the time to stretch out your leg in front of yourself to look down at your foot and carefully try to rotate your ankle. Pain shoots out from your joint, and you whimper under your breath. 

“Don’t let go,” you warn him anxiously. You notice that you have smeared varnish over his t-shirt from gripping it as you had nearly fallen. 

“I won’t,” he absentmindedly rubs your side soothingly but it doesn’t make your heart rate drop. 

“Oh no, I got varnish on your shirt,” you point out.

Joel gets a line in his forehead when his expression switches to confusion. He blows air out of his nose in a humorless laugh, “That’s your worry? Sweetheart, we should get that foot checked. Head too, maybe.”

The nickname seems so natural. You slap his shoulder again, but then remember that he has your whole body at his mercy; your legs will disappear from underneath you if he moves, so you decide not to protest too much.

“You can take my car,” you say but he already objects. 

“Ain’t no way in hell I’m putting you on the front seat of your own tiny car. We can take my truck, and you can lie down on the back seat,” he doesn’t even give you room to argue, just leaves everything as it is in your front yard and crosses the street with you in his arms. 

“You’re overreacting,” you want to have the last word, and Joel gives it to you, because he says nothing in return, focused and determined instead. 

When you reach his old truck, he puts you on the bed to go fetch his keys. It gives you just a moment to process the way that your skin feels on fire where his hands have been, and you hope that no one at the emergency room wants to test your blood pressure or pulse with him in the room. You already start practicing a polite way of telling him to get out. 

When Joel returns a few moments later, he unlocks the truck and turns on the engine before fetching you again. You allow yourself to wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders, trying not to look too interested in the way that one of his hands rests comfortably just underneath where your bra sits against your skin. 

“Uhh,” Joel quickly turns on his heel as Sarah clears her throat, having arrived home from her walk from the bus stop to their home. You nearly bump your head into the roof of the car as Joel spins due to him being too startled by his daughter’s sudden presence to notice the space around him. 

Sarah has on her school backpack, clutching the straps as she approaches the two of you. She raises a brow, “What is going on here? Should I leave again?” 

You hope Joel doesn’t drop you at that. 

“Nah, it ain’t like that,” he shoots her insinuations down a little too fast.

“Definitely not,” you add just as quickly to save face, and then reach out for the door handle from your position in Joel’s arms, “I’m just a klutz, think my ankle might be sprained or broken.”

“Oookay, whatever you say,” Sarah says, but doesn’t look very convinced with the way she grimaces as she removes her gaze away from you for a moment. When she regains her composure, trying not to make disgusted teenage eyes at her father, she goes on, “So should I wait up?”

“Probably not, s’not serious enough to be prioritized,” Joel says as he crawls half way into the truck’s backseat to place you down on it. You look up at him with a hitched breath, nod when he asks ‘this okay?’ with his eyes.

He pushes himself back and out of the car again by gripping the roof of the vehicle, turns to Sarah then leaves you with butterflies in your stomach. 

“There’s still leftover pizza from yesterday,” you hear him say to her, and she replies with whatever. Knowing enough about her by now, you know that she will probably be cooking her own dinner.

She knocks on the window to wave at you before leaving, “Hope it’s nothing too serious!”

*

After waiting three hours to see a doctor at the emergency room, you are now the proud owner of a sprained ankle. It’s a conclusion that you could have made yourself, but Joel hadn’t wanted to take you back home and had argued that it was better to be safe than sorry. There had been no point in arguing about it because Joel is as stubborn as a mule, even now that the doctor is confirming your suspicions.

“Plenty of rest, ice packs, pillow under when you sleep,” the doctor tells you as she taps away on her computer to log your condition. She smiles softly at you and urges you not to try to put on your shoe again, “I will let a nurse wrap your foot soon, so just relax for now. Just regular ibuprofen for any pain or discomfort. I’ll make sure the nurse gives you a dose before you leave too.”

“Thanks,” you say as you scoot back onto the examination table, already determined to put your foot up. Joel sits on a chair with his arms crossed over his chest, resting his chin in one hand, and has his legs spread out in front of himself. He looks tired but he did carry you all the way through the hospital. 

The doctor turns towards the two of you on her spinning chair, “So it’s no more house work for you the coming week. You’re lucky it wasn’t bad or your boyfriend may ha—“

“Not together,” you and Joel say in unison. You try not to be offended by hearing him say something you’ve just said yourself. At the same time even. 

“Well, nevertheless, you’re lucky that it isn’t bad enough to have been four to six weeks of rest,” she says a little sheepishly. 

You laugh softly at her comment, nodding in agreement, “Oh yeah. I’m terrible at sitting still.” 

You don’t tell her that you feel lucky because four to six weeks without seeing Joel would have been torture. This is good. You don’t have to stop seeing Joel, and knowing his stubbornness, you guess that you’ll be allowed to watch him coat the rest of the house with varnish because the dry weather calls for it. 

You guess right, spending lazy days on your porch with cool drinks and a nice view of Joel’s tall frame on the stupid stepladder. He had insisted that you stayed inside, but you’d told him it wasn’t going to happen. That was fine, but only if you had your EpiPen next to you. 

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #my writing #the last of us fanfiction #dilf!joel

[kisskiss-killforlove]

Could You write a Scenario in wich we hug Horuda and Megami? They deserve a hug

♡ Darling gives them a hug ♡

Pairings: Megami Saikou, Horuda Puresu x GN!Reader Word Count: 1.2k (Megami); 1.3k (Horuda) Content: Hurt/comfort, mentions of nepotism, mentions of bullying, crying, mentions of obsessive behaviour, fluff, probably improper use of Japanese honorifics.

{Megami Saikou}

It had been a tiring day for Megami.

A stern lecture from her father, a fight breaking out at school, a stolen answer sheet, an explosion in the Science Club - and those were just the things she could name off the top of her head.

Bit by bit, it had all piled up, leaving her wondering if perhaps the world was intent on testing her patience that day. Thus, as soon as cleaning time was over, she shut herself in the student council room, instructing most of its members to do another round of patrols.

It was silly, she knew, but by then, her patience had run too thin for her to tolerate other people's presence, and she didn't want to compromise her image as the perfect student council president by showing her irritation.

At that moment, however, as she sat by herself, working diligently on an assignment, she felt anything but perfect.

Yet no matter how many times she reached her boiling point, there would always be more to do. Be it at school or at home, something would require her attention at nearly all hours of the day; today and tomorrow and the day after that and-

"Saikou-senpai?"

An all too familiar voice broke her out of her spiralling thoughts as the door slid open. Megami looked up from her work, her stomach filling with a fluttering sensation as her tired gaze landed on you.

"Are you alright?" you asked. "I heard from Toriyasu-senpai that you seemed upset, so I wanted to check on you."

Ah, of course you did.

You had left abruptly during cleaning time to fetch some bleach after it had run out, so you ended up missing the memo about staying away from the council room. Not that she could ever fault you for it, of course. After all, it was your kind-hearted nature that drew her in initially, and why she insisted you continue to be a part of the student council despite your lack of qualifications.

She would never admit to having such a bias, though, as doing so would force her to acknowledge just how unhealthy her obsession had gotten.

"I'm alright," she answered immediately, sounding more confident than she felt. "You should start your patrol now if you want to finish in time for our meeting."

Undeterred by her attempt to push you away, you stepped inside and slid the door closed behind you. "Saikou-senpai," you spoke gently, approaching her with cautious steps. "Are you sure you're okay? I'm here if you need someone to talk to you."

Megami sighed at your persistence, setting down her pen as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "You don't know when to give up, do you?" she asked, though there was no hint of annoyance in her voice. Quite the contrary, she was thankful for this opportunity to be alone with you, even if it was due to unfortunate circumstances.

At this, you chuckled. "I guess not..."

Grabbing a chair, you placed it in front of her desk and sat down. With your elbows on your knees, you leaned forward as you rested your head in your hands, looking at her expectantly.

After a moment, Megami relented, "It's really nothing you need to concern yourself with. I'm simply going through a period of stress as everyone does."

You frowned when you heard this. "Oh... Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe take some weight off your shoulders?"

She sighed. "No, there's nothing that can be done, although that's not to say I don't appreciate your concern. The best you can do is let me handle this on my own."

Her answer didn't seem to satisfy you as you looked away, staring absentmindedly at the floor in deep thought. Right as Megami opened her mouth to ask you to leave, you spoke up, "Do you want a hug?"

Immediately, you slapped a hand over your mouth, staring at her in horror as you realised what you'd just asked. Megami returned your look of bewilderment as she asked, "Excuse me?"

Snapping out of your shock, you raised your hands defensively, speaking quickly, "I...! I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I just..." After stumbling over your words for a bit, you finally took a moment to calm yourself, taking a deep breath and letting your hands drop to your sides. Then, you began speaking again, this time more calmly, "What I mean is... When I'm stressed and feel like no one can help me, a hug usually makes me feel better... It's a nice physical reminder that someone's there for you... It keeps you grounded, you know?"

No, in fact, Megami did not know.

Affection of any kind had been mostly absent from her childhood, especially physical affection. The thought of someone holding her during times of emotional distress was utterly alien to her, yet... it wasn't unappealing either.

Granted, doing something so intimate with you would be far from appropriate given the nature of your relationship, but Megami was willing to give it a try. She did like you, after all, even if you weren't aware of it yet, and there was no one else around... Surely one hug wouldn't hurt.

So, taking a deep breath, Megami replied with a stiff nod before speaking, "Alright..."

She was just as stunned as you were at her words but refused to back down as you approached slowly and awkwardly. Due to her lack of experience, it took her a second to realise she should stand up, which she did hastily and nearly knocked into you in the process. It wasn't normal for her to be so graceless, but then again, nothing was normal when you were around.

So, with her gaze downcast, she allowed you to wrap your arms around her waist and, after some brief pondering and internal panic, she reluctantly wrapped her own around your shoulders. Once she grew accustomed to the feeling of being in your embrace, she nearly melted into your arms, having to stop herself from slumping against you.

In an instant, everything bad that happened that day disappeared from her mind, replaced with only the euphoria that came with holding you. If 'comfort' were ever to take human form, it would surely look like you, for only you could calm the raging storm that was her mind.

After a moment, you began to pull away, which triggered an unexpected reflex in Megami as she pulled you back, her grip firmer than before.

"S-Saikou-senpai?" you stuttered.

Megami didn't respond immediately, opting to rest her head on your shoulder first. "Can we... stay like this for a moment longer?" she asked, her voice growing uncharacteristically soft.

Her question seemed to catch you off-guard, but not for long as you soon rested your own head on her shoulder. "Of course."

She smiled at your answer, continuing to hold you as though you were the only thing that brought her a true sense of joy and purpose in her otherwise chaotic life. And in a way, perhaps you were... "And one more thing..." she began.

You let out a soft "Hm?" in response.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you... if you were to call me 'Megami-senpai' in private."

She couldn't see your face, but she swore she could hear a smile in your voice as you answered, "...Okay."

{Horuda Puresu}

Horuda sniffled, her breath coming out in short, ragged puffs as she examined herself in the bathroom mirror. Her usually well-kept dark hair was damp, messy, and covered in white as she tried desperately to wash chalk dust out of it. Tears slipped from her eyes as she did, looking at her shaking, frightened form.

It wasn't an image she was unfamiliar with.

Her school life had been hell for as long as she could remember, and her time at Akademi had thus far been no different.

Sighing, she took a moment to wipe her tears, which didn't really help in drying her face as her hand was still wet. When she looked back up at her reflection, a choked sob escaped her lips. She was a mess. She couldn't possibly go to class like this.

Turning to grab some paper towels, she suddenly froze at the sound of someone calling her name from the hallway. "Horuda-san? Where are you?" the person called.

Her breath caught in her throat as she realised the person looking for her was you.

Immediately, her mind went into a panic. Out of everyone in Akademi, why did it have to be you that was searching for her? She would have preferred anyone, even one of the bullies, over you; the thought of her crush seeing her in such a state was nothing short of mortifying.

She briefly debated hiding in one of the stalls until you left, but the slight hint of concern in your voice made her reconsider. You had never been cruel to her, no matter how many nasty rumours you heard, so perhaps you wouldn't judge her too harshly if you were to see her...

Taking a deep breath, Horuda made her way to the exit before poking her head out, spotting you just down the hall. As soon as you turned around and saw her, a look of relief washed over your face and you began lightly jogging towards her. Horuda had to resist the urge to hide in the bathroom again as you approached.

"Thank goodness I found you," you said with a smile. "Aburaya-sensei was starting to get really worried, so she asked me to..." Your smile dropped as you went silent, taking in the sight of her damp, dishevelled hair and puffy, red eyes. "...Horuda-san, what happened?"

"O-Oh, um... I-It's nothing..." She replied.

"Obviously it's not nothing if you've got chalk dust in your hair," you said firmly. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Before Horuda could protest, you gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bathroom. A stuttered word or two managed to escape her lips as you did, but otherwise, she made no move to stop you as you stepped out to retrieve a chair from the hallway.

Placing it in front of the sink, you motioned for her to sit down, which she did with some reluctance. As you moved behind her to begin washing her hair, a deep blush settled on her face. This whole situation felt like something straight out of those romance novels she occasionally read rather than real life.

Still, she was grateful for your presence, despite her anxiety, and continued to sit patiently as you washed her hair. Occasionally, her self-control would slip, leading her to glance back at you, only to find her actions went unnoticed as you kept all of your attention on the task at hand.

After a few moments, you spoke, "So... you wanna tell me what happened?"

"U-Um..." Horuda began, her hands suddenly clammy. "I... got some chalk dust... in my h-hair...?"

You huffed as you turned off the sink, slipping into one of the stalls to grab some paper towels. When you came out, you asked, "I can see that, but how did you get chalk dust in your hair?"

Horuda's heart hammered in her chest as she refused to meet your gaze, her hands clutching the hem of her skirt anxiously. She wanted to tell you, she truly did, but what were the odds of you believing her? Musume and her friends were popular and well-liked, while Horuda was just... herself. There was no way you were going to take her word over theirs.

While she was having this mental debate with herself, getting more and more lost in her thoughts, she was suddenly startled by the sight of you kneeling before her. Your concern was shown in your expression as you took one of her hands gently. "Horuda-san, please... tell me who did this. I know this can't have been an accident."

Horuda could only stare at you for a long moment, her hand trembling in yours as she tried to think of how to answer. After thinking over her response, she said, "Ronshaku-senpai... a-and her friends... t-they... they did this..."

A look of anger briefly flashed across your face before you suppressed it, continuing to look at her with concern. "And how long has this been going on for?"

Horuda's breath became shallow as she tried to recall the last few weeks of awful torment she'd suffered at Musume's hands. "S-Since... the start of the school year..."

"Has anyone else seen this happen?"

"No..."

"So, you're all alone when those bimbos pick on you?"

Horuda was shocked by your sudden insult but nodded, her expression dropping once again. Tears began forming in her eyes as silence fell between the two of you, and she couldn't bear to look at you anymore. She couldn't even feel happy about being able to hold your hands with how much this conversation had upset her. All she could do was stay quiet and hope you wouldn't react too negatively.

After a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity to Horuda, she felt as though her heart had stopped as you put your hands on her shoulders and pulled her down... to hug her.

She was too stunned to speak, remaining stiff as a board while she tried to comprehend what was going on.

"I'm so sorry for not noticing sooner," you said softly. "If you'd like, you can sit with me from now on so they won't bother you anymore."

Horuda could hardly process what was going on but slowly, she wrapped her arms around you, allowing herself to relax in your embrace. Once she snapped out of her shock, her mind quickly caught up and she burst into tears, clinging to you like a lifeline.

This whole time, she'd been terrified of how you'd react to seeing her in such a state, and now you were being so nice. You didn't care that you were kneeling on the dirty bathroom floor, or that her wet hair was covering your arms as she knelt forward, or even that she was weeping into your shoulder.

All you cared about was making her feel better, and that made her heart race in a way it never had before. She felt relieved. She felt... happy.

A few moments passed in which you simply held her, allowing her to cry her heart out before she finally pulled away. If she was a mess before, she was a wreck now, but the sight of your kind eyes and gentle smile made that fact irrelevant.

As her sobs turned into sniffles, she managed to mutter, "Th...Thank you... so much..."

You stood, letting go of her hand, much to her disappointment, and walked behind her with paper towels in hand. "Don't mention it. I'm just happy you're okay." Horuda smiled, wiping her tears as she felt you carefully dab at her hair to get the water out. "Now then, let's head back to class, okay? I'll explain what happened to Aburaya-sensei afterwards."

She nodded. Perhaps with you by her side, her school life might just be bearable after all...

#yandere simulator x reader #yansim x reader #megami saikou x reader #yandere megami saikou x reader #horuda puresu x reader #yandere horuda puresu x reader #cw: yandere

[nametakensff]

Mistletoe Mishap (S/teddie)

Ignore the cheesy title and enjoy 4.4k of mutual fetish AU S/teddie smut lol

S/teve and E/ddie are decorating the H/arrington household in preparation for a Christmas party when E/ddie has a ~mysterious~ allergy attack

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship (four years deep), both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, allergy sneezing, handjobs, spray, a little tiny mention of mess, descriptions of a pretty intense allergic reaction, sneezing on someone's face, sneezing on someone's neck, teasing, nose rubbing

CW: graphic descriptions of cum, E/ddie is a particularly demanding tease in this one

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“You know, I don’t understand why they don’t sell the place. Or just give it to you.” Eddie stated, pushing the front door to the Harrington residence closed behind him. “It’s not like they’re ever here. Seems like a waste of prime real estate.”

Steve shrugged, setting the last of the cardboard boxes they’d brought with them on the floor and crouching down over it.

“I’ve long given up on trying to understand my parents, Eds. Doesn’t matter, right? Comes in handy at times like this.”

He ripped the tape off the box and opened it wide, smiling as Eddie’s curls brushed the side of his face, the older man leaning precariously over his shoulder.

“You didn’t need to buy so many new decorations, hon. It’s just the kids. They don’t care.”

“Hmm.” Steve ran his hand over the assortment of tinsel, baubles and other Christmassy items, pleased to see they were completely intact even after he and Eddie had dropped this box in the parking lot earlier.

“Maybe they don’t care, but I do. It’s their last Christmas in high school, Munson. I want it to be nice for them. It might even be the last Christmas all of them spend together. They’ll go to college – they’re smart kids – and they might not even come back for the holidays.”

Even as he said it, Steve’s heart gave an unpleasant little flutter of what he supposed was preemptive grief. After everything they’d been through in this insane town – all the life and death situations they’d managed to pull through - these kids meant the world to him. They were eighteen years old – well, some of them – and he could hardly believe how much they’d grown before his eyes. He had been content living with Eddie in their small apartment and going about their everyday life in Hawkins, but change was in the air. Not only were the kids about 6 or so months away from graduation, he and Eddie had been discussing their own potential move. It should be exciting, and for the most part it was, but he was also a little terrified.

He felt Eddie’s hand squeezing his shoulder gently, turned his head to look up into his boyfriend’s face. He knew that look well, one of total fondness and adoration, and found himself smiling back up at him.

“Okay, Stevie. Let’s make it extra pretty for ‘em, huh?” He straightened up and made his way round Steve to open another box. “All I meant was they’ll be happy no matter what you do. The fuckers love you, man.”

Steve smiled again, feeling a little too sensitive and knowing if he said anything at all his voice would be thick with emotion. He nodded and took a second for the lump in his throat to recede before starting up into a series of instructions for their decoration game plan.

~~~~~~

“Okay.” Steve stood with his hands on his hips, feeling exhilarated as he glanced round at their handiwork. Despite how long it had taken them - mostly because of Eddie and his absolute inability to focus on the task at hand without either teasing Steve, fighting Steve or holding various decorations in front of his crotch and pretending they were his penis - it had turned out just great. In Steve’s opinion, it had been worth breaking the bank a little for the pomp and circumstance of it all.

“Looks great, baby.” He was grinning, the satisfaction of a job well done leaving him proud and happy.

“Fucking finally.” Eddie grumbled from his position on the hallway carpet, sprawled out on his back like a recalcitrant starfish.

Steve smirked at him before climbing on top of him and straddling his waist, planting his hands at the side of the older man’s head, careful to avoid the trailing brown curls that spread haphazardly around them.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Eddie deadpanned, but Steve felt him reach up to grip his waist gently.

“I am.” Steve admitted before pressing several small kisses over Eddie’s cheeks, eyebrows, nose. He was delighted to hear his boyfriend giggle sweetly in response. It was so fucking cute that Steve had to kiss him immediately, and Eddie, a sucker for him as always, elevated the kiss from soft and tender to deep and nasty in mere seconds.

After several more minutes of moaning and groping on the hallway floor, Steve figured they may as well be celebrating their successful decoration efforts in the comfort of an actual bed. He pulled back from the kiss, laughing as Eddie followed him as far as he could from his prone position before flopping back down.

“You better tell me the only reason you’re stopping is to haul my ass up to your bedroom, pretty boy.” Breathless and giddy, he massaged Steve’s ass with his wandering hands.

“Read my mind, baby. Let’s go.” Steve stood and pulled Eddie up alongside him with a strong arm. The metalhead flounced past him, already halfway up the stairs when Steve noticed one final box, unopened and forgotten towards the end of the hall. They must have missed that one in the maelstrom of hanging and pinning and arranging that had followed.

“Eddie, wait.” Steve started, pacing towards the box.

“What, what now?” Eddie groaned, turning around on the steps to peer down at Steve. His erection continued to stubbornly strain against the fabric of his worn black jeans.

“We missed a box.” Steve said, picked it up when he found it to be somewhat lighter than the others, and held it up towards Eddie.

“Are you serious, Steve?? It’s been hours, we’ve already worked like Santa’s god damn elves on cocaine and the house looks like Christmas vomited all over it – just put the damn thing down and let me suck your cock already!”

Steve, frankly, found the whole diatribe incredibly amusing – the only thing more amusing than Eddie’s rant was the look of utter indignation on his face when Steve outright laughed at him.

“Ooh, you piss me off.” Eddie stomped his way down the stairs, strode up to his still-laughing boyfriend and yanked the box from his hands. “If we finish with this last little box, can we go upstairs and fuck each other’s brains out for the remainder of this fine December evening?”

“Sure.” Steve smirked, enjoying his boyfriend’s sexual frustration and trademark impatience immensely.

With that confirmed, Eddie redoubled his efforts, practically tearing at the box as he crouched haphazardly beside it. Ripping it open, he paused for a second, tilting his head like a curious puppy as he took in the contents.

“Leaves…?”

Steve’s brows furrowed; he leaned forward, following his boyfriend’s gaze downwards. Suddenly, it clicked.

“Mistletoe.” He snapped a forefinger and thumb together. “Sorry hon, I totally forgot. Won’t take us long to hang a couple of these up.”

“Huh. Do you really need this much of it for the children, though? Are we advocating for teen pregnancy in this household?” Eddie joked, dangling a sprig dramatically over the two of them. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Please. Being members of Hellfire is contraception enough.”

“Wow. Fuck you, I guess?”

Steve chuckled, snatched the sprig from Eddie and held it above them as the metalhead had just moments before. He slipped one strong arm around Eddie’s slim waist and pulled him closer, until their fronts were flush.

“Sorry, baby. Kiss and make up?”

Any faux offense on Eddie’s part was quickly diminished as the older man smiled and leaned into Steve’s embrace. All too quickly his hands were roaming over Steve’s body, squeezing his ass, dragging his nails down Steve’s back hard enough he could feel it through the cotton of his polo shirt. They both moaned into the kiss, all tongues and heavy breathing, and for a moment Steve lost himself in it.

It didn’t last long, however. Steve felt his boyfriend tense, standing rigid in his embrace. He barely had a second of recognition at the sharp inhale Eddie took in through his nose before the metalhead was pulling away just a moment too late, catching Steve’s jaw with the light aerosol of his first sneeze. The older man choked out a breathy apology before sucking in another inhale and proceeding to sneeze fittishly against the column of Steve’s throat, trembling and gripping the fabric of his shirt as though holding on for dear life.

“Hh-HH’ENGXT’Tchieww!! NDd’tshieww!! ‘Tshieww!! Ihkg’tchieww!! HAH!! DDZZSCH’Uuuu!! Ohh…”

Steve felt his entire body blooming with heat at the arousal that pulsed through him. He never tired of this, felt just as overwhelmed and ruined by every sneeze that graced his heated skin as he ever had. He held Eddie upright as he shuddered, stroking one broad hand down the expanse of his back as best he could whilst still clutching the mistletoe between thumb and forefinger. He kissed into Eddie’s curls and willed his hips not to buck against the thigh his boyfriend had slid between his own.

“God bless you, sweetheart.”

Eddie pulled back, sniffly and watery-eyed, offering Steve a sheepish, crooked smile as he shook a few stray hairs back from his face.

“Whew, sorry, Stevie. That came out of nowhere.” He snuffled a little louder, and Steve was transfixed at the wonderful flare of those oh-so expressive nostrils as he did so. Eddie swiped gently at the dampened skin of Steve’s throat with the cuff of one long sleeve. “Had a tickle.”

Steve moaned softly, smiled at the pleased grin that whimper of arousal pulled out of Eddie.

“You okay, Eds?” He asked, still stroking Eddie’s back softly.

“I’m just dandy, honey. Great, actually. That felt fucking incredible.” He punctuated the statement with another sniffle, even more liquid sounding than the others, and pressed a soft kiss against the side of Steve’s mouth.

Whether he was embellishing the experience for Steve’s benefit or whether those sneezes really had gotten him worked up – either way, Steve could feel the older man’s erection, harder than before and digging into his hip. He groaned, gripping Eddie’s shoulder with one hand and using the other to cup his ass, forcing their hips together and grinding against Eddie’s thigh, inviting his boyfriend to do the same.  

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He muttered against Eddie’s plush lips before capturing them in another intense kiss.

It was much of the same for a bit – grinding and gasping and moaning and kissing, gripping each other with desperate, wandering hands. Steve replayed the sound of every tickly little sneeze Eddie had graced him with minutes earlier, the sensation of the spray as it arced across his neck. He hadn’t been exaggerating; he really did feel like he was going to die when they worked together like this, like the emotions and the sensations were simply too much for his body to handle and he would shatter into a million pieces. He loved every second of it.

Eddie tensed again, just as before, but this time Steve was ready for it. He groaned into his boyfriend’s mouth, rolled his hips against him, squeezed his ass for all he was worth. The metalhead pulled back with one final frantic breath sucked in through twitching, flaring nostrils, fingers scrabbling to find purchase on Steve’s back, and sneezed violently between them.

“H’ohh goddDDDISSSSHH’IEwww!! hHDT’TISShhuuu!! IGXShhh!! HIG’TCHIeww!! Hh-HH-!”

He seemed to pause for a moment, and Steve would have perhaps mistaken this for the end of his fit had he not the perfect view of his crumpled expression – eyes overflowing with irritated tears, nostrils flared to capacity, tongue pressing firmly against his bottom lip as his jaw hung open. He was a picturesque portrait of ticklish misery, and Steve wanted a better view. He released his grip on Eddie’s ass to instead replace that hand in a firm but gentle grip on the older man’s chin, tenderly tilting back his head from his slightly ducked position so that he was facing Steve directly. Eddie didn’t protest, allowed Steve to do as he would, seemingly more preoccupied with allowing the tickle to crest inside his aggravated nose. It looked like such a tease; the naked look of desperation on his face was driving Steve wild.

What was maybe a few seconds felt like an eternity as Steve wished he could freeze them in this painfully erotic moment forever – Eddie, held right on the precipice of a sneeze and Steve ready and waiting to receive it. One final, dramatic tick of his nostrils, however, and Eddie finally reached his peak, rocking forward against Steve as it overpowered him.

“AEGGKKk’KSHIEWWwww!! eEHDT’TCHIewww!! HEH’TCHIEWWWw!! ‘TSCHH’Iieww! Hh…”

Steve’s eyes closed reflexively with every sneeze that burst across his face, cock throbbing and pulsing in his jeans as he took in the rich vocal sound of them, the desperate, almost pained expression on his boyfriend’s face, the feeling of his trembling against him. Yeah, he was never, ever getting tired of this.

“Hholy shit…” Eddie muttered, sounding utterly drained. Steve didn’t blame him; the sneezes, whilst not as large as his own, had sounded incredibly intense. Eddie sagged weakly against him, the weight of his head heavy against Steve’s hand. The younger man released his chin from the grip and swiped a thumb under his boyfriend’s dripping nose, finally pinching a little string of mess away from his septum before wiping it subtly away on his own jean-clad thigh. With slightly less subtlety he raised the collar of his shirt to quickly wipe his face clean.

“Bless you, baby. My god.” Steve laughed breathily, elated and giddy and absolutely overflowing with adoration. “You doing okay? Those were some serious sneezes.”

“Yeah. God. They really didn’t fuck around, huh?” Eddie sniffled, releasing the death grip he was maintaining on the back of Steve’s shirt to lift a crooked finger to rub at his tickly nostrils, quickly switching to all but mashing his nose back and forth with his palm when the gentle rubbing did nothing to alleviate the itch. He used the knuckle of the same hand to scrub at his eyes, which Steve noticed were looking suddenly all too pink. He frowned a little, pulling Eddie’s hand away by the wrist, ignoring the gentle whine of protest.

“Itches.” Eddie muttered, blinking as another pair of tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I know. I think you’re having an allergic reaction, Munson. And a fast one, at that.”

“Yeah, I am. Shit.” He sniffled again, twitching his pink nostrils, and Steve had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand and not the fact that he could feel his heartbeat in his dick.

“Any idea what might have triggered it? You poor thing…” Steve murmured, hoping he sounded as empathetic as he was ragingly horny.

“Ugh. Maybe dust from the carpet? I was down there for a little while, I guess.”

Steve frowned.

“But you’re not normally this irritated that fast? Unless it’s, like, a lot of dust?”

Eddie shrugged, squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his nose frantically again, a series of wet clicking noises sounding out as he did so.

“I don’t know, man. Fuck, I’m so itchy,” He whined, using the heel of his palm to press up against a leaky eye, ignoring Steve’s attempts to swat it away.

Steve glanced around the room, looking for anything that might be the culprit. No flowers that weren’t fake, no cleaning products left out in the open; the house was maybe a little dusty, granted it had been unoccupied for months at this point, but his parents still paid for a maid to semi-regularly come and maintain it, so it wouldn’t be enough to make Eddie this allergic. At a loss, he turned his head back to his boyfriend and opened his mouth to offer some sympathetic encouragement or other before he froze in his tracks.

He was resting one hand on Eddie’s shoulder – the same hand that still clutched a sprig of fresh mistletoe.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever been around mistletoe before?”

“Sure? Kids used to hang that shit all over school around Christmas.”

“But that stuff was plastic, no?”

“Well, yeah, but…?”

“Eddie.”

“Mm?”

“I think you’re allergic to mistletoe. Real mistletoe.”

“…Oh. Ohhhh.” Recognition dawned on Eddie’s face, and Steve nodded back at him as they locked eyes.

“You only started to sneeze once we opened that box. I got it at the store when you were grabbing an extra box of fairy lights for me.”

“Well, shit.” Eddie giggled, even as mashed his nose against his palm again. Steve lowered the hand holding the sprig to his side.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, really meaning it and feeling horribly guilty for taking such enjoyment in what looked like a pretty intense allergic reaction.

“C’mon, Stevie, no sorries. We don’t even know it’s that stuff for sure – s’probably still just the dust. Delayed reaction, or something.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow at that. Telling himself it was merely a matter of necessary experimentation and not because his cock was drooling in his pants at the thought of a repeat performance, he lifted the sprig up and held it directly under his boyfriend’s nose. Despite so confidently reassuring Steve the mistletoe was of no concern, the metalhead jerked his head back slightly at the sudden proximity of the offending plant.

“Sorry, sorry – just, sniff this for me? I want to be sure.” Steve tried gently, handling his boyfriend as one might attempt to soothe a skittish horse.

Eddie, stubborn as ever, rolled his eyes.

“I’m telling you, Harrington, even if it made me sneeze a little, that’s hardly a big deal for yours truly. It’ll be the dust that’s gotten me like this.”

He sniffed obediently all the same. His reaction was almost instantaneous and explosive as could be, actually causing Steve to jump a little as he sneezed violently all over the sprig, Steve’s hand and even dousing his forearm in a sudden cloud of spray.

“EESHHHHhhh’uuu!!”

Steve dropped the sprig immediately, groaning as his cock jumped in his pants at the throaty sound of his boyfriend’s desperate release.

“Bless you, you stubborn bastard. Oh, my poor allergic baby.” He crooned, kissing at another stray tear that rolled down Eddie’s cheek and wrapping his arms around him in support as the metalhead built up to yet another fit. The older man’s chest jumped rhythmically against Steve’s own, and with shaking arms he wrapped himself around Steve in return, resting his chin over his shoulder and slotting his thigh even more securely between Steve’s, as if anchoring himself in position to allow for the sneezes to overpower him.

“Fuck, Mm’gonna-!”

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.”

Steve had barely finished speaking by the time Eddie launched into his fit, notably stronger than before after getting a direct noseful of the offending allergen. Steve held him close, keeping the pair of them upright as his boyfriend gasped and rocked and strained. He bit his lip, willing himself not to go off in his pants as each sneeze seemed to travel though the both of them.

“HeHH-TSSSCH-TSSSSCH-‘DTTSZ’SHieww!! hHH-!! ‘GTSCH’IEWW!! EhHDT’TSHHIEwww!! ENGXT’TCHuuu!! Hh, HH!! IIIESHHHH’IEWW!!! Hohh…”

Steve listened to Eddie snuffle as he hung limply in his embrace, stroking his back reassuringly and whispering sweet litanies of praise and blessings into his boyfriend’s ear.

“Bless you, honey. You did so good, really got that tickle out of your poor little nose.”

“Mmff…” Eddie responded, dragging his drippy, twitching nostrils over the junction where Steve’s neck met his shoulder and rubbing them into his skin. Steve shivered at the wet sensation, continuing to support his boyfriend’s weight whilst holding himself rigid, forcing himself not to rut his cock against Eddie’s thigh and orgasm when he should be offering comfort. He swallowed and breathed out a shaky little laugh.

“Thought I knew everything about you at this point, but I guess not.”

He felt Eddie kiss him softly through the fabric of his shirt.

“Doesn’t count if I didn’t know it either.” The metalhead muttered, sounding so incredibly wiped out Steve’s chest blossomed with affection. “Not exactly off brand for me, this shocking revelation.”

Steve chuckled softly, the sound quickly morphing into a strangled groan as Eddie suddenly muffled a string of poorly suppressed sneezes into his shoulder, shaking the both of them again.

“HhNGGXT’Tsziew!! MMP’TChhh!! Ehh’NGXT!! NGK’Tieww!!”

“Fuck, Eddie, bless you.” Steve squirmed in place, squeezing his thighs tight around Eddie’s.

Eddie sighed, an almost orgasmic exhalation of air that made Steve shudder again, before lifting his head and pulling back, allowing Steve get a thorough look at his face. The younger man’s heart (and cock) throbbed to see just how much those sneezes had overpowered his boyfriend. Eddie’s eyes were bloodshot and leaking an almost continuous stream of allergic tears; his nose was reddened and slightly swollen; his full lips pink and moist with the aftermath of the intense sneezing he’d been subjected to. But he was smiling, and Steve hadn’t been with him for going on four years now to not recognise the heated look of arousal plastered onto his face. As if to reinforce his deductions, Eddie ground his own cock, almost as hard as Steve’s, against the younger man’s thigh.

“Thank you, angel. God, that felt so good. Did you like it?” He murmured, leaning forward to rub his nose against Steve’s. The younger man could feel how damp those flaring nostrils were against his own, so warm and soft. He answered with a moan in lieu of anything even remotely intelligent. Eddie seemed happy either way.

“Bless me.” He rubbed his nose against Steve’s just a little harder. “My nose is so tickly.”

“Eddie-!” Steve moaned, feeling completely dumbstruck as his boyfriend nuzzled against him, voice low and seductive, each word elevating him closer and closer to orgasm. He wanted to throw Eddie on the ground and fuck him stupid, but he also didn’t want this wonderful teasing to stop.

Suddenly, he felt the distinct sensation of his zipper being pulled down, and gasped at the feeling of Eddie’s calloused fingers pulling his cock out of his underwear. It pulsed and drooled a new stream of pre-cum all over that warm, familiar grip.

“You want this, baby?” Eddie half-whispered against his lips.

“W-we should…go upstairs, fuckk…” Steve managed, even as his eyes rolled shut at the minute movement of Eddie gently rolling the foreskin back from his cock head. “I can…hold back…!”

“But I want you here, Stevie. And you? Holding back now that I’ve got my hand on your cock? That is a fucking lie.” Eddie grinned, offering a small closed-mouth laugh as Steve moaned against his lips again.

“Fine,” Steve gasped as Eddie’s hand, slick with the result of his own wetness, started to pull at him. “But I can’t get jizz on this carpet. Gonna have to cum all over you instead.”

It was Eddie’s turn to moan, and Steve’s eyes squeezed shut at the sound of it, so ragged and breathless he almost came on the spot. He looked down between them as his boyfriend used his free hand to bundle up the hem of his Motorhead shirt and hold it to the tip of his cock.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Harrington.” Eddie nipped at his lips. “All ready for you.”

Steve whimpered, fucking into Eddie’s grip as the stroking resumed, so good, so good, and then Eddie was sniffling into his ear and he was coming in waves, the pleasure spreading out from his pulsing cock right down to his toes, curling them in his sneakers. It was quick and dirty and felt fucking amazing – Eddie jerked him throughout as Steve gripped his shoulders to stay upright, moaning at last once his voice returned to him.

“God,” he sighed with a definitive jerk of his hips into the makeshift cover Eddie held patiently against his spitting cock. He watched as his boyfriend pulled back, the two of them taking in the impressive deluge of cum that stained the black fabric before Eddie used a clean section of shirt to lovingly wipe his cock head clean, giving it a gentle squeeze as he went.

“Feeling better, big boy?” Eddie kissed his cheek, gently moving Steve’s hands off his shoulders once it seemed he could stand on his own. He used his newfound freedom to pull the ruined shirt over his head, careful not to get any mess on himself. He scrubbed a cum-free section over his dripping face for a moment before balling it up and dropping it gently on the floor with a dorky, quiet ‘Sorry, Lemmy.’

“Yeah. Fuckkkk.” Steve breathed out, pulling Eddie into him in a crushing hug, breathing in the smell of his shampoo and running his hands up the bare skin of his back. Eddie patted the small of his back softly in return.

“Love the way you cum. So sexy.” He sighed next to Steve’s ear. Steve could still feel Eddie’s own erection, harder than ever, pressing into his hip. He danced his fingers up Eddie’s spine, humming in satisfaction as he felt his boyfriend shiver and break out in a trail of sensitive goosebumps at the touch.

“Let’s go upstairs now.” He pulled back and reached for Eddie’s hand, feeling his boyfriend grip him back immediately. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you scream.”

“You know that’s all I ever want to hear.” Eddie flashed him a crooked smile, going easily as Steve started to pull him upstairs. Steve felt him hesitate, however, after just a few steps.

“What about the mistletoe, Stevie? Don’t you want to hang it up?”

Steve shook his head, all but yanked his giggling boyfriend a step higher.

“Can’t put that shit up now, and you know it. Cheeky bastard.”

“One second.” Eddie shook his hand free of Steve’s and ran down the stairs towards the box of mistletoe, rummaging for a second with his head angled as far away from the box as possible before extracting a sprig and holding it out in the air beside him.

“Eddie-“ Steve started as his boyfriend bolted up the stairs towards him, keeping the mistletoe at arm’s length.

“C’mon, Stevie, it’s just a little one. We can leave it next to the bed, I promise I’ll be fine.”

Steve must have looked visibly worried, because Eddie pouted up at him and tilted his head coquettishly.

“Where’s your Christmas cheer?” He simpered.

Steve couldn’t deny the prospect was incredibly tempting. One glance at Eddie’s huge doe eyes as they pleaded mischievously with him was all he needed for any further protests to die in his throat.

“Fine. But you’re taking an antihistamine first, you demon.”

Eddie smirked at him, all lidded eyes and long eyelashes.

“Yes, sir!”

+++++

((Just a few notes - I'm pretty sure mistletoe allergies aren't a thing but I don't care because it's hot lol.

Also for anyone who is even a little invested in this AU, I hope it shows that Steve is more comfortable discussing fetish related things this far into their relationship compared to earlier on when he would stutter over everything!))

#s/tranger t/hings #nametakenfic #sneeze fic #snz fucker #snz kink #sneeze kink #snz fet #sneeze fucker #snzblr

[powderblueblood]

No.16: “if you don’t take care of yourself, then i will.” for Steve please

SENTENCE PROMPT TIME BABY

content warning: i don't actually know where this fits, but it feels a little conman!steve if you squint. there also might be a cum joke if you squint but i'm not sayin nothin for sure. mostly fluffy, a little sultry. hope you enjoy, nonny!

word count: 617

"One, two, cha-cha-cha, three, four, cha-cha-cha."

Steve's nose is nestled right behind your ear, his large palm resting right in the square of your back. He had descended on your place in a haze of low-voiced I wanted to see what you were up tos about an hour ago. You, for your part, had been elbow-deep in paperwork. Grad school won't apply for itself.

He took one look at your bloodshot eyes, bleary and half-closed from squinting at type and fixed you a Manhattan. Or as close as he could get to a Manhattan with your limited liquor supply-- which actually just ended up being an Old Fashioned, because who the hell keeps sweet vermouth on hand? But however he did it, however he shook it or stirred it, it was the best thing you'd let coat your tongue in ages.

Well. Since the last time you'd seen him.

The man knows a flavor profile.

One drink down, and you were sufficiently distracted enough from your pursuit of further learning that you let him convince you he could teach you how to dance. Despite your two left feet. Despite insisting you just have to finish one last thing. Despite not entirely understanding why he's here.

"Why are you here?" you murmur over his murmured instructions, feet only barely tripping over one another. You hadn't expected your voice to sound so sleepy.

You can feel his lips curl into a smile, right against your neck. A shock of warmth runs under your skin, so pronounced and pleasurable you swear he can feel it.

"To make sure you don't work too hard," he says, movements slowing to a sway. Good. That took a little less brainpower-- not that you had much to spare.

"'m not working hard enough, actually," you counter, eyelids drooping as his mouth presses ever closer to your skin. God, if he'd just pucker up, he'd be kissing you there, but Steve likes to linger. Likes to draw it out. Likes to make you ask.

"Bags under your eyes beg to differ."

"Hey--" you start, just as he reigns his neck back. You almost shiver from the absence of him. His gaze on you is heavy lidded, close and comfortable yet you crave him closer still.

"You are beautiful," he puts the point on, "but you are exhausted."

"I-- I am exhausted."

Steve runs his finger along your hairline; it's a gesture so intimate, given how little time you've known one another. Anyone else and you'd be wary, but he seems... genuine. An open book. No ulterior motive that you could possibly think of.

"And if you don't take care of yourself," he whispers, and before you know it, he's walking you backwards-- a languid step or two through your tiny apartment, towards your bedroom, "I will."

Nose to nose with him, you sigh. It's all you can manage, competing with the sensation of his hands on your hips, his breath warm on your mouth.

"Would you like that?" he asks, stopping against your doorframe. Steve's eyes have darkened some; he lobbies the ball into your court, so to speak. Say the word, and I'll go. Let you brew a pot of black coffee and get back to it.

He always gives you a chance to walk away.

You wonder why that is.

But he is, and you never thought this could be true of a person, irresistible.

Your hands, eager hands, rub over his shoulders. Your lips, eager lips, don't dare kiss him first. But God, you want to.

"Yes," you say, a whisper so high and fleeting that he'd miss it if he didn't catch it in his own mouth, "Yes, I'd like that."

#powder room talk #Anonymous #s. harrington by powder #blurbs #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #conman!steve x reader #possibly............

[laurfilijames]

Like My Dreams

Part 4

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Nudity. Fingering. Hand job. Cum play. Oral sex (M and F receiving). Squirting.

Summary: Things continue to progress between you and Pete, indulging in the slow buildup and all the fun that comes before sex, falling deeper in love with each other as each day passes.

A/N: I am so addicted to writing all these sweet moments between them that gives glimpses of how they are falling in love. There is so much more to come for this story and I am still so excited to share it!

*reader is not described other than having hair despite the photo used in the moodboard. And yes that's Jay and not Pete but LOOK AT HIM. It is so Pete coded I had to.

Intro Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pete Dunham Masterlist

---

You had to pull your phone away from your ear the moment the call picked up, the volume of Fiona shouting at you and going on about how worried she was too loud to keep it close, her annoyance at you not having answered her numerous calls not allowed to go unnoticed.

“Nothing happened!” you stressed, your grin splitting your face as you trotted down the sidewalk, listening to her accuse you of being too blissfully fucked out to communicate with your best friend and flatmate.

“Oh, my ass!”

“We kissed. All night.”

“Sure you did…”

“And talked…” you trailed off as you recalled every word and kiss shared, remembering each moment as if it had happened a hundred times over, his lips and voice ingrained in your memory forever. “Fi, I swear this can’t be real.”

“I can hear your grin through the phone. It’s making me ill,” she scoffed, but you could tell without seeing her face that it was in a lovingly teasing way. “And it’s real, so enjoy it, babes, you deserve it.”

Your smile grew even more as you made your way down the steps into the underground, not caring that strangers were noticing your blatant joy and staring at you as they passed.

“Put the kettle on, I’m on my way home.”

The lack of a vehicle was beginning to throw more of a wrench in your daily routine than you could have imaged, the difficulty of getting yourself to and from work let alone Jack to school and back turning into many inconvenient favours owed to Fiona and even Swill, and with neither one of them available to help today, you were relying on your very own knight in shining armour.

You yawned, your day having started earlier than you would’ve liked due to having to take the tube to your sister’s from Fiona’s in order to get there just as she was rushing out the door to work, praying you would get another coffee in your system soon.

“He’s here, Jack! Get a move on!” you called up the stairs, grabbing your purse and Jack’s cleats as he bounded down excitedly while sliding his arms through the straps of his backpack.

“Morning, Mr. Dunham!” Jack bellowed, practically skipping to Pete’s car as you locked the door to your sister's place.

“Morning, mate,” Pete greeted, his smile beaming as he stood in the open door of his car. He ruffled Jack’s hair as he flew past him and scooted into the backseat, tossing his things in unceremoniously as if getting into his teacher’s car was the most normal thing in the world.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Pete winked at you over the roof of his perfectly maintained, claret red Volkswagen, his hands tapping on it enthusiastically as his cheeks stretched even more on his face at seeing your own beautiful grin dress yours.

“Right,” he started, shutting his door after sitting back down in the driver’s seat. “Seatbelts on.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jack, then at you, his expression somewhat stern.

You looked at Jack to make sure he was doing as instructed as you fastened your own, giggling when Pete gave a pleased nod and leaned across the console to get close to you.

“You’re precious cargo,” he murmured, kissing you quickly, laughing as he pulled away when Jack began complaining about it.

For the first morning ever, you didn’t mind the commute from your sister’s house to your office, content with spending time with Pete before your workday, getting to admire him as he focused on driving while you sat comfortably in the passenger seat.

He sang pretty much the entire time, listening to a mixed CD he had burned, and it surprised and warmed your heart to see your nephew singing along to what words he knew, remembering Jack telling you how Pete often played music during class while they were working.

Stopping at a red light, Pete took your hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it as many times as he could before the light turned again, checking in his rearview mirror to see Jack looking out the window smiling.

“How uncool do you reckon it is to show up at school with your teacher?” Pete asked, his question serious even though it initially made you laugh, seeing his brows knitted together as he stroked his thumb over his lower lip.

You looked back at Jack who was still in his glory, nodding his head along to “Supersonic” by Oasis, and then back at Pete, recognizing just how important his reputation and influence was not only to his firm and all the others in England, but also to his students.

You reached for his hand, rubbing your thumb across it before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I think it’s different when your teacher is your idol.”

Pete couldn’t hide his smile even though he tried, licking his lips as he concentrated on the road again, his happiness making you wish the repairs on your car took longer than anticipated so you could do this for many mornings to come.

“Fucking hell,” Pete panted, his head knocking against the wall as you trailed your mouth down his neck, your hands slipping under his jumper to feel his abdomen expand and contract wildly under your touch, the desperation to have each other growing each time you were alone.

You had just returned to his flat after going out for a meal with Dave and Clair, unable to keep your hands to yourselves even in their company, the feel of Pete’s hand resting on your thigh all night in a confidently claiming way driving you insane.

It had been a mutual decision to take things slowly, carefully and progressively building up to the inevitable, the anticipation adding to the excitement of it all and making every moment with Pete feel that much more special.

It had been two days since your sleepover, the brief time spent together since without being able to be physical making you curious to know where things were going to take you now, but the way he had been kissing you in the back of the taxi told you he wasn’t going to ever leave you unsatisfied.

Your lips found his again after assaulting his neck and chest until it was made red from your attention, his blush spreading up onto his cheeks as he became more worked up, sweat starting to appear on his skin that allowed your hands to glide easily along it.

He pulled your lip with his teeth out of restraint as you ran your palm over the bulge in his jeans, stroking him through the material until his cock was pressing against it almost painfully, your fervor increasing as you appreciated his size.

Jackets were torn off and left abandoned on the floor wherever they fell, your shirt, and then his, following suit as you blindly stumbled away from the door and into the living room, Pete laughing as he crashed into his foosball table.

“Sorry!” you giggled, the words you were going to use to ask if he was okay dying before they had the chance to pass your lips, feeling numb from the way Pete was looking at you, his crooked smile and hands clasping your face as he leaned in to kiss you again making you forget about anything else.

He pulled you along with him into his bedroom, not stopping in kissing you even when you both frantically worked to unfasten each other’s pants, only breaking when you had to rush to kick them off your feet and catch your breath.

Pete smiled and took a sharp inhale, taking a second to admire you in your bra and panties, watching your eyes cloud over with lust as you admired him in his burgundy boxers that were no longer leaving much to the imagination.

He closed the space between you and crashed against your lips again, his hands holding your neck and jawline to increase the depth of his tongue in your mouth, moaning when he felt your fingers hook in the waistband of his boxers and edge them down his legs.

Your own moans of approval rang out when you felt his cock spring free, your hand catching it and stroking his length base to tip, your thumb smoothing over his head.

Shivers rushed down your spine as Pete unhooked your bra and peeled it off of you, the sensation of his fingers and the lace delicately slipping along your arms and chest making you ache, your heart pounding when he pulled you closer to him so you were pressed together.

His lips traveled from yours and down your neck, peppering along your shoulder as he breathed you in, your head tipping back at how incredible something so simple felt.

Continuing his worship of you, he kissed down your upper arm and across your chest, sitting on the bed as he did, allowing for a better height for his mouth to line up to your breasts.

Forced to release his cock from your hold, you stood between his legs with the help of his guidance, whining as your nails dug into the flesh on his upper back when his tongue swirled around one of your nipples, flicking and sucking it until it hardened to his attention.

“Pete…” you breathed, both a praise and plea.

He didn’t stop, repeating the same on your other breast, his hands gently slipping down your waist until they caught on the lace of your panties and slowly peeled them down your hips and thighs until they pooled on the floor.

Once you were naked, he wrapped his arm around your legs and bum and tugged you forward, forcing you onto the bed with him where you landed wrapped together in his unmade sheets, his smile bright as he shifted and looked at you lovingly. He ran his hand over your hair, dipping his face down so his smile met the one you returned to him, your hands squeezing his body as you held him close to you.

You smiled as you reached up to trace his lips, his soft laugh making your heart soar as he placed his forehead against yours and nudged your nose back and forth, both of your smiles fading as the weight of this moment settled in.

Pete’s hand slowly trailed down your side and onto your hip, scooping your thigh to sling it over his waist, your breath pausing in your lungs as you waited for him to touch you, his fingers carefully gliding between your bodies until he landed home.

You gasped, releasing the air you had been holding in, the sensation of him swiping through your slick folds before pushing his middle and index finger inside you making you moan and grip his shoulder without regard to how your nails were leaving half-moon indentations in his skin.

The groan that tumbled from his parted lips in appreciation of how wet you were for him made your arousal increase even more, unable to help yourself from grinding your hips against his hand for more friction where you needed it most.

“Fuck,” he swore as he exhaled, hooking his fingers to massage you as if he knew the very spot that would make your legs tremble, and while you indulged in his generosity of pleasuring you, it was impossible to forget about him, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock again.

Spreading the precum that was leaking heavily from the tip, you stroked him up and down, feeling every vein pulse as his shaft flexed and twitched to your touch, his hips bucking forward slightly, causing him to work you with more fervor.

A breathy moan passed his lips before he brought them to yours, gently and almost to test it out as if he hadn’t kissed you a thousand times already, meeting your lips more confidently when you reciprocated eagerly.

You never stopped once, exchanging breaths and slow kisses the entire time your hands explored each other, the addicting sensation of Pete’s long fingers moving in and out of you expertly while his thumb circled your clit keeping you on the brink and ready to fall when he allowed for it.

“Are you gonna come for me, beautiful?” he uttered, his voice thick with lust, his eyes heavy-lidded when he parted from you enough to look at your swollen lips and the way you squirmed beside him.

“Fuck, Pete…” you whined, gyrating against his hand, prompting him to amp up his already-perfect efforts.

“That’s it, darling,” he groaned, his mouth hovering against yours as he felt you tighten around his fingers.

You somehow managed to continue pumping his cock even through the build-up of your climax, desperate to drag him along with you and to experience what you hoped would be the first of many simultaneous orgasms, but Pete had a determination that was unmatched.

He alternated between hitting your g-spot and rubbing your tingling clit, massaging both precisely, causing you to inadvertently halt your movements on him as your climax ripped through you violently.

“Good girl, fuck…” he hissed, watching you fall apart under his touch, your body so beautifully reacting to the pleasure he provided, the noises spilling from your lips sounding better than he could have imagined.

Stilling his fingers but not removing them from you, he kissed you until he felt your walls release the grip you had on them, growling into your mouth in discovering how much your creamy slick had coated his hand.

You wrapped the hand that wasn’t holding his throbbing cock around the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you, kissing him hard to show your gratitude as you resumed jerking him off.

“Hang on,” he murmured, his brow furrowed as he took his hand that was between your legs and gripped his cock with it, spreading your juices on himself, more curses coming out of his mouth as he did. Somewhat forcefully, he grabbed your hand and placed it back around him, guiding your pace for a moment before sliding his fingers between your legs again, swiping through your soaked and sensitive folds back and forth until your cries encouraged him to drive them inside your aching hole.

You kept the tempo he had set, not faltering even when occasionally adding a pass of your thumb over his head, feeling him begin to lose control with each second. His free hand moved to cup your face, the gold of his ring cold against your burning cheek, his tongue rolling with yours vigorously as he ground his body against yours.

He groaned into your mouth, the sound guttural and primal, his lips breaking from yours briefly as he came harshly, his hot spend shooting out onto your lower belly and core where he didn’t let up on his ministrations.

His breathing was sharp and heaving, and you didn’t notice yours turning to be the same, focused on the feeling of his thumb smearing his cum over your clit that threw you into another shattering high.

He let you ride out your second climax, relishing in every blissful aftershock of it, your breaths gradually slowing together as your kisses became lazier and less hurried. Pete smiled against your lips as he gradually pulled away, his eyes bright and full of joy and promise of more.

“I’ll go get a towel, yeah?” he spoke softly and winked, looking at the mess he had made on your bodies, but thinking how fucking good you looked covered in his cum.

Pete tossed the soiled towel down on the floor and sighed as he lay back on his pillow, lifting his arm for you to slip underneath it, your head laying on his chest like you were made to fit in the space against his side.

Your fingers danced on his skin, tracing his West Ham crest adoringly, the happiness buzzing through you unlike anything else you had felt before.

He kissed the top of your head, his voice sounding tired and comfortably sleepy when he spoke.

“Are you going to stay the night?”

You beamed, relieved he couldn’t see your grin from his angle.

“I was considering it…”

Pete chuckled as he rolled over to cage you under his body, smiling down at you while giving you a playful look, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

“You’re dreaming if you think I’m letting you leave.”

What felt like an explosion of nerves burst in your stomach the closer you came to Steve and Shannon’s home, and you found yourself appreciating the decent walk from Bank Station in the brisk evening air, filling your lungs with it with each breath to try to calm yourself.

Like he sensed your unease, Pete squeezed your hand that he held in his, glancing over at you as he walked with his usual certainty.

“They’re gonna love you,” he reassured, his smile making you believe him a little bit. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Okay,” you hummed, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued taking strides together, smiling and returning his consolation by squeezing his hand back.

After a few more minutes of walking and being distracted by one of Pete’s insane fighting stories, he slowed and turned to lead you up the steps to the porch of a posh townhome, feeling yourself straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath as he hit the doorbell, the wink and smile he shot in your direction helping you steel yourself.

“Hi, bruv,” Pete greeted excitedly when Steve answered the door, walking through it when he stepped out of the way for you both to enter.

He introduced you with pride to Steve and Shannon, and as soon as the formalities were out of the way and Steve had taken your coats, you felt any unease about meeting them completely vanish.

“What’s this?” Steve asked when Pete handed him a bag before seeing himself through to the kitchen.

Pete scoffed, speaking over his shoulder, “Wine, a baguette, dessert…” he listed, like he was offended Steve was asking.

The look Steve gave him made you smirk, confusion written all over his face.

“Pete, when have you ever brought anything?”

“Bollocks!” Pete responded, his grin revealing the truth behind his brother’s accusation, giving you a look like you shouldn’t believe it as he opened the refrigerator door and helped himself to a beer.

“I see you’re already having a positive effect on him,” Steve said to you. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A glass of wine would be great, thank you,” you smiled, already finding the relationship between the two Dunham brother’s endearing and ultimately entertaining.

Pete was on cloud nine, smiling to himself as he went into the kitchen with a stack of dirty plates, hearing your infectious laugh sound through from the dining room, having hit it off with his brother and sister-in-law effortlessly.

He wanted to show you off to everyone he knew, so proud to be with someone as beautiful and incredible as you, and he knew his mum would love you to pieces when he eventually was able to introduce you to her as well.

“That’s going well then, is it?” Steve asked, coming in and grabbing another bottle of wine from the rack beside the fridge.

“Yeah, it is,” Pete nodded, half expecting a negative comment or some sort of warning to come out of Steve’s mouth next, bracing for it as he retrieved dessert plates out of the cupboard.

“She’s really great, Pete. You suit each other.”

Pete turned to look at him, his eyebrows hooked high in shock, and he became even more surprised to see the genuine expression on his brother’s face when he did.

“I mean it, you know,” Steve stressed, seeing Pete’s doubt. “I’m really pleased for ya, mate, so is Shan. It’s nice seeing you happy.”

“I was happy before,” Pete countered, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, not questioning that they adored you but rather that Steve was about to lecture him on something about life meaning more than how he had lived it up until now and suggesting for him to leave the firm and fighting behind.

“Yeah, but this is different, innit?”

Pete nodded as he glanced over at his brother again, smiling when he saw his honesty hadn’t faded.

Steve stepped forward and embraced Pete, a hug something that was very seldom shared between them, but Pete welcomed it gladly, patting Steve’s back aggressively and lifting him up slightly, making Steve curse and groan.

“Thanks, ya old geezer,” Pete laughed, refocusing on his task of setting out dessert while Steve uncorked the bottle of red, both brothers smiling out of appreciation and gratitude for how life was turning out after everything they had been through.

It was hard to peel your eyes away from him despite the pleasure he was providing you feeling so divine it was nearly impossible to keep them from closing, the half of his face that wasn’t currently obstructed looking heavenly as he indulged between your legs.

His brows were knitted together, his focus and pride in his work written out on his expression as he ate at you appreciatively, the way his hands dug into the flesh on your hips yet another signal of his enthusiasm in being able to taste you.

Your fingers carded languidly through his short hair, it feeling velvety against the inside of your trembling hand before his tongue hit that perfect spot he kept finding and teasing and made you grip his scalp with a plea for mercy, your hips lifting off the bed as your cries filled the air.

Pete was more than generous when it came to pleasuring you, having already made you come twice on his tongue and fingers that didn’t leave the intoxicating comforts at the apex of your thighs, his drive to coax another orgasm out of you something to be awarded.

His moans told you all you needed to know about how much he loved tasting you, although he was sure to utter the words between licking and eating up all you had to offer, his praise making you soar and feel like a goddess even though you were simply laying there and doing nothing but being spoiled.

You smiled, feeling yourself grow more deranged from ecstasy as you neared another climax, unable to believe how lucky you were to find a man who clearly loved the act of performing oral more than you had ever experienced, his talent and passion for it evident in each swipe and suck, your pleasure the only priority.

“Pete!” you wailed, trembling on the mattress as he drove his fingers in and out in the way he learned drove you insane, his lips sucking on your clit to make you reach your high once more.

It felt different, more intense than all the orgasms he’d given you already, a pressure coiling tightly at the base of your spine, your whole body tensing.

“Relax, love,” he encouraged, pausing only long enough to say the words before returning to his position, his fingertips brushing your g-spot a few more times before withdrawing them completely from you, his tongue flicking your clit to finish the job.

You screamed, your body convulsing as a rush of wet exploded from you, soaking his face that he kept buried in your cunt as he drank up all he lured out of you.

“Holy shit, Pete,” you panted, your chest heaving wildly as you fought to catch your breath and comprehend what just happened, every part of you tingling and alight from such an intense pleasure you didn’t know you were capable of experiencing.

Pete hummed against you, shifting slightly as he moved his lips from your over-sensitive folds onto your thigh, his eyes full of lust as he glanced up at you.

Licking his lips, he sat up on the bed, a deep breath filling his lungs as he tried to keep control of himself, his voice deep and gravelly when he spoke.

“I fucking knew you were going to taste that good.”

His continued praise left you breathless, and although you barely had any strength left in your limbs, you propped yourself up on your elbows and met him in a kiss that tasted of your tangy essence.

One of your hands pressed gently on his chest to encourage him to stand while your other found his cock that strained with a need for your attention that you were so desperate to give it, moving off the bed with him as you slowly rubbed his length.

You reluctantly broke your kiss as you sank to your knees in front of him, keeping eye contact as you did, your hand remaining on his cock as the other slid down his defined abs to his toned thigh. His muscles trembled when you pressed your lips on his groin, then a little further down on his leg, your nose brushing along his heated skin that smelled so incredible it made your mouth water.

You swallowed thickly, bringing your lips to his leaking tip, smoothing it across them before parting them enough to invite him into your mouth, still managing to hold his stare as you did.

“Fuck, babe,” he hissed, his eyes clouding with a hazy ecstasy.

Moaning as you took him fully in the heat of your mouth, you relished in his taste and smell, your nose landing in the wheat-coloured hairs at the base of his cock that held that musky scent you were now addicted to.

Your hand clawed into his quad as you brought your head as close to his body as you could, his cock slamming into the back of your throat as a result, a shiver running through you to make your nipples harden and you to shift your knees on the floor to spread your legs apart.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, your eyes closing as you relished in his praise, his words encouraging you to make him feel as good as he had made you.

You gave him all you had, sucking and swirling your tongue around from base to tip over and over, bobbing on and off of his size that made you gag, but you never let up, hearing his groans and curses falling from his parted lips that made you even more eager to taste his load.

Gently, you cupped his sack, massaging it at the same time you moved him in and out of your mouth vigorously, feeling him tense and throb to your efforts.

Glancing up to check his expression to be sure everything you were doing was feeling as mind-blowing as you hoped, you carefully rubbed your knuckles against the spot behind his balls, increasing the pressure when you saw his mouth slacken and his eyelids shut.

“That’s it, fuck!”

His hips began to match your tempo, his hand carefully landing on the back of your head to remind you what he could do if you dared to stop, his subtle demand for you to keep on exactly how you were making your own arousal leak from you and drip onto the floor.

Pete stopped moving, instead digging his fingers into your scalp, his breathy grunts and moans signaling his end that made you work with even more enthusiasm until you felt him pulse into your mouth in powerful spurts.

You moaned appreciatively as you swallowed his thick, hot cum, still swirling your tongue around his girth until a shaky laugh rang out above you.

“Fuck me,” he huffed, running a hand through his hair as he watched you release him from your mouth with a pop as you sucked off the last bits seeping from his tip.

Pete held out his hand to help you up, nodding at the bed behind you, a mischievous look dressing his flushed face.

“Sit.”

It was exhilarating, wondering what he was planning now, trusting him completely while also indulging in the curious excitement mixing with nervousness that the look in his eyes gave you, and obediently, you did as you were told.

Pete kneeled between your legs, smiling proudly as he guided your feet to rest on the edge of the mattress, spreading you open wide for him to access all of your fresh slick that had accumulated in your folds.

“I’m not nearly done with you yet, darling.”

Pete woke up sometime in the early hours of the morning, having stayed up well past midnight due to the simple fact that neither of you could get enough of each other, indulging in discovering every bit of the other with your hands and mouths again and again until you eventually grew too weak and tired to tolerate anymore pleasure.

The window was open just as Pete had it any other night, the sounds of the other sleepless people of East London drifting into his bedroom along with the chilly air. A lazy smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, thinking how it couldn’t be possible to have ever been as comfortable in his bed as he was now, your presence beside him something he didn’t want to go without again.

He sighed as he shifted closer to you, moving his arm around your torso to tuck your back against his front even more, the warmth that was pouring off of you contrasting drastically to the cold clinging to the duvet. Nestling his nose into your neck, he searched for your hand in the dark, lacing your fingers together when he found it.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered, his voice sluggish, feeling you stir beside him as a soft whimper escaped you.

Sunday’s were already a favourite of his, a typical one spent down at The Abbey having pints with the boys or in the stadium cheering the Hammers on at home, but knowing he was going to wake up with you still in his arms had him looking even more forward to it.

If anyone had asked Pete a list of things he loved only a month or two ago he would’ve given his usual answer; football. West Ham United. The GSE. Scrapping other firms and the feeling that came with it. Teaching. Music and books. The soothing feeling of a pint on his hoarse throat after screaming through a match or the sting of a bruise on his face that reminded him of the minor injuries he had forgotten.

Never would he have considered the list changing to this.

You. Your smile and laugh. The way you looked at him. The way his heart jumped each time he saw your name on his phone or heard your sweet voice on the other end. The feel of your lips on his, or how supple your skin was against his palms whenever he touched you. Not to mention the way your quiet moans would grow whenever he did.

Pete inhaled deeply, drawing in your warm scent, knowing that if you weren’t wrapped up with him right now he would still have a difficult time believing this was real.

Something he never thought was possible. Something he never even considered as an option before his life had been completely turned upside down and nearly stolen from him.

Loving you was the best thing he had ever done in his life, and if it all vanished tomorrow with the rise of the sun, Pete would feel lucky to have experienced even half of what he had so far.

“Where are we going?” Jack asked from the back seat, noticing that you had deviated from your usual route to his house from his guitar practice.

“You’ll see!” you chimed, trying your best to relax as you drove, the anxiety you felt about being back behind the wheel ever-present, but knowing where you were headed was helping to keep you calm.

It was a relief to have your car out of the repair shop, no longer having to bum rides off of anyone or take the tube during the busiest parts of the day, but the convenience and gratitude you felt for having your independence again didn’t outshine the slight panic that lingered just below the surface, especially whenever Jack was with you.

The Stone Roses came on the radio, hearing the intro to “I Wanna Be Adored” bringing out your smile and making you turn the dial up, the lyrics allowing you to relax into your seat and loosen your grip on the steering wheel slightly.

Humming along, you felt your heart ache with that wonderful fullness that was becoming both familiar and craveable, the desire to chase it any time a thought of Pete came into your mind or a text from him came up on your phone a high you never wanted to end, the same feeling now related to songs you listened to together.

I don’t have to sell my soul,

He’s already in me.

The lyrics felt like a gospel, the words speaking the truth about how consumed by Pete you already were, the thought of having to sell your heart or soul laughable as you had handed it all over willingly and not once hesitated to do so.

You pulled up to the pitch where Pete and the other members of the GSE were playing a friendly game of football, seeing Jack’s face light up when you looked in the rearview mirror after putting the car in park.

“We’re only stopping for a bit,” you explained, not wanting him to think he was getting out of going home in time for tea and to do his homework.

The rain had been consistently falling all day, but that never stopped the love for the game, not minding being out in it now when you saw how happy they all were beneath the layers of mud and water.

Pete had just finished scoring a goal when he saw you and Jack standing at the sidelines, smiling brightly as he jogged over to you.

“Aye, aye!” he called, slowing before he crashed into you, his cold hands grabbing your cheeks as he planted an enthusiastic kiss on your lips.

“Hiya, love,” he murmured when he pulled away, sending you a wink before nodding over at Jack and ruffling his hair.

“Eh, Jack, you’re in, mate.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, go for it! You’ll be doing better than me,” he laughed. “My leg could do with a break, plus, these old geezers are all slowing down and getting tired so you’ll dodge around them no problem.”

Jack looked at you for permission to which you nodded and laughed, “Yes! Your cleats are still in my car from yesterday.”

“Yes!” Jack celebrated, jumping up and down on the spot before running back to the car to get his gear.

“You’ve just made his day,” you smiled, nudging Pete’s arm with your elbow as you swayed on the spot, wondering how they were all managing to stay warm when they were soaked through to their skin.

“Ah, he’s a good lad,” Pete complimented, both of you watching as he hurriedly changed his shoes and ran out onto the field where he was welcomed excitedly by Ned and Dave.

You couldn’t help but giggle, seeing Jack burst out laughing as Dave told him about Bovver’s bummed knee, explaining to him ways to twist him up and get around him fast enough he wouldn’t be able to keep up.

Within a few minutes, the lads were all amping Jack up, calling him “Beckham” only to be corrected that he wanted to be like Ferdinand, and cheering and going on more than usual any time he got a goal, making the kid beam.

“Did you have a good day, darling?” Pete asked, taking your hand in his where he pulled you into him, his lips peppering over your forehead.

“It’s better now,” you sighed, allowing yourself to lean into him despite him being soaking wet.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You make everything better, Pete.”

You felt him hum, his chest rumbling with his approval at the same time his arms held you tighter, allowing you to inhale deeply to capture the mix of sweat, rain and fresh air as you nuzzled your face against him.

The tender moment lasted momentarily when Pete began shouting jeers at the boys, making you laugh the louder and more offensive his words became toward his mates, his body shaking as he began to crack up as well.

“Come on, Ned, the lad is almost taller than you!” Pete teased, promptly holding up his middle finger to Ned after being given one on each hand in response to his insult.

He chuckled and then kissed the top of your head before flicking your hood up to cover it, holding onto the edges to make sure it stayed up and shielded you as much as it could from the rain.

“I should get in there and put those idiots in their places,” he smiled, his blue eyes bright against the gloomy sky.

“Yeah, I need to get the little lad home,” you explained. “Thank you for this. You always make him feel like a star.”

Pete smirked, pulling out the creases around his mouth. “Ah, it’s all good, darling.”

Still holding onto your hood, he dipped in and kissed you, once and then again, unable to get enough, both of you losing focus on his return to the match and your departure.

“Why is it always impossible to say goodbye to you?” you accused, pulling your lip in your teeth until he kissed you again and forced you to release it.

“I get that a lot.”

He laughed when you squeezed him, the sound of it adding to the intoxication he had over you, and you melted even more when it quickly faded into a moan of desire when his lips met yours again, his kiss deepening with a sudden desperation.

“Oi! Lovebirds!” Ike’s voice rang out through the mix of someone else shouting for you to get a room and Jack yelling “Gross!”.

“Lovebirds?” Pete asked, his amusement clear in his grin as he laughed again and kissed you through his smile.

“Yeah,” you spoke against his lips, happy to confirm the sentiment.

He pulled away from you with a groan after another intense kiss, biting his lip this time out of restraint, his head shaking back and forth while looking at you hungrily.

“Mm. I'll be getting my hands on you later.”

Warmth spread through you, your love and arousal blooming for him even more in anticipation of what was coming next for you, seeing promises of intense pleasure glowing in his eyes as he stepped backwards and turned to jog back onto the pitch.

---

Part 5

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Taglist:

@theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13 @stealfromthedevil

#pete dunham #green street hooligans #pete dunham smut #pete dunham x female reader #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam characters #pete dunham x reader #pete dunham fic #green street hooligans fic

[dilf-whore]

can you do a stranger things image with sweet f!reader with billy where reader's mikes older sister meets billy at the pool

know you more

pairing: billy hargrove x f!reader

genre: a lil’ suggestive if you squint, fluff (?)

A/N: if i get the braincells, inspiration, and motivation, then i’ll make a part 2 and write smut for it. lol let me know if you guys are interested, i’ve been thinking of writing some smut for quite a long time now and i feel like i should give it a try but i still don’t know lol 😵‍💫. anyways send in your thoughts on this fic, hope you guys like it!

requested: yes

requests are OPEN

masterlist

・°☆

You go to the lounge chair by the pool and open the umbrella. You place your things together with Mike and his friends’ belongings, you were the designated babysitter for today as Steve and the other older ones were busy today - plus, you also wanted to go to the community pool anyways. “Holly don’t go any farther okay? stay close to Mike” you instruct your youngest sister as she puts on her floaty.

You put on some sunscreen and lay down under the umbrella, you open your book and start reading.

After a good thirty minutes, Holly calls for you, “Y/N, I want some juice!”. You put your book down and grab your wallet, “okay, what about you guys?” you ask Mike and his friends. They all shook their heads, “we’re good. Thanks”.

You head towards the vending machine, you curse at yourself for forgetting your sunglasses at home as you cover your eyes with your hand - the bright sun blinding you. You take your steps carefully and slowly, only seeing the floor and the feet of the people around you. 

You look away just for a second and you suddenly get hit by a figure and almost fall down, but luckily, the person immediately caught you as a strong arm wraps around your waist to prevent you from hitting the ground. You gasp and your heart drops in fear.

“You alright?” the man asks. You get a hold of yourself, “yeah, I-I’m good sorry for-” 

You suddenly stop when you finally take a look at him, it’s no other than Billy Hargrove. His handsome face and stare causes your cheeks to warm up, thank god it’s hot you thought - you’re able to hide how flustered you are right now. “Oh, it’s you Billy, sorry about that, I wasn't looking. My eyes were partially covered” you continue, trying your best not to look at his toned body while Billy wasn't even trying - he’s checking you out from your face down to your chest with a smirk plastered over his face. “You’re Mike Wheeler’s sister, Y/N. Never thought you’d be prettier up close”. 

You have no idea but you caught Billy’s eye ever since he first stepped in school, he saw you drop off your brother in the middle school campus and he swore he’s gonna go talk to you but for some reason, it seems like he can’t approach you. You’d walk past him in the hallways and his body just freezes, stomach starts to feel odd, he just goes feral inside.

It was a weird feeling for Billy but a good weird.

The school year has ended and he only got to talk to you now.

“So what are you doing here?” he asks. You gain the courage to look back at his dreamy features, “I’m watching over my baby sister and well, Mike and his friends too. Your sister is with us by the way” you point at Max swimming with your brother and the rest of their friends. “Yeah, she told me she’ll be hanging out with you guys this morning”

You squint your eyes causing Billy to chuckle, he takes his sunglasses off and put them on you. “As much as I love seeing you wearing my glasses, you shouldn't forget yours especially during days like this”. 

“So how long have you been working here?” you ask, attempting to play it cool despite his flirty remarks. “Since the start of summer” he reply.

He pauses for a while, thinking of what to say next - he didn’t want your conversation to end. Gotta think of something fast, Billy. He says to himself.

“Aren’t you gonna go for a swim?” he speaks again.

“I want to but I have to keep a close eye on Holly”

Billy approaches you more and closes the gap between you two, faces are now inches apart. He finally got to talk to you and he’s gonna make the most out of it. “I’m the one closing later, you can come by tonight at 7. We’ll have the pool all to ourselves, it’ll be a bummer if you don’t get to use that lovely bathing suit of yours. Plus, I wanna get to know Y/N Wheeler more”.

Oh my god

You bite your lip and look around, checking if anyone - especially Mike is looking at you, luckily he was too busy clinging on El. You look back at Billy and reciprocate his smile. 

“Sure I’ll see you tonight”

・°☆

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanons #stranger things headcannons #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things oneshot #stranger things blurb #stranger things scenarios #stranger things s4 #stranger things s3 #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove headcannons #billy hargrove scenarios #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fic #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 3: HOLLY, JOLLY

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This was not how I expected this part to turn out. You know those moments when you just keep typing and writing? Anyways, introducing Ronnie. In reading Flight of Icarus, I pictured her character looking like Emmy Rossum, more so Fiona Gallagher-esque. Ronnie is Eddie's wingwoman.

Have you ever been with a boy and just don't think? Like you're so present in the moment with them, you don't know what you're doing or what's happening in the world around you? That's how Diana feels around Eddie.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3124

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III

HAKWINS HIGH

I sit in my usual spot for first period, my books and stationery are set neatly on my desk as I wait for class to start. People begin to trickle in but there is no sign of Barb or Nancy. I didn’t wait for either of them outside the school or by our lockers like I usually do, instead I walk straight into school, straight to my locker to switch out my textbooks and straight to class. Despite being upset about what happened last night, I can’t help but glance at the door every time someone enters the classroom just in case it is Barb or Nancy. I chew my lip, tapping my pencil against my notebook. Class starts in two minutes and neither Nancy or Barb are in class. Part of me wonders if they both decided not to show up to school today. It’s not until Nancy rushes into class with flushed cheeks, I relax only a little. I avoid eye contact as she sits in her usual spot across from me. I can feel her looking at me but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, I hear her talk to Ally beside me. 

“Hey, Ally. Where’s Barb?” 

“Um shouldn’t you know?” 

“You haven’t seen her anywhere at all?” Nancy presses. 

I purse my lips. Why would Nancy ask that if Barb waited for her while she was upstairs with Steve? I turn my head slightly not trying to be too noticeable, but I’m not inconspicuous at all because I catch Nancy’s gaze for a second. Her lips twist into a perplexed frown as she looks at the empty seat beside her. I sit forward swallowing and glance at the door hoping Barb will walk in at any second, but as soon as Mr. Flaim enters the classroom and instructs us to take out Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, I focus on the lesson.  

Nancy and I don’t have the same second period so I haven’t seen her since homeroom. Everyone is rushing to the cafeteria as usual; I pass by and from the hallway I have a clear view of Steve, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve wrinkles his nose at Carol who has her foot on the table. Tommy H is laughing, chewing with his mouth full of whatever food they are serving at the cafeteria today. I am surprised to see Nancy join them at the table. A knot of dismay forms in every muscle, it seems as I observe my best friend. She doesn’t look around for me or Barb, slipping comfortably beside Steve who smiles welcoming at her. I clutch my bag closer to my body and walk away ignoring the hollowness I feel inside. 

As I walk down the hall, I slow down approaching Barb’s locker. It doesn’t look like it’s been touched at all today. I also haven’t seen her at all this morning. I linger, rubbing my lips together. It’s unlike Barb to not turn up to school unless she was sick and last night was cold and with everything that happened with her finger…I rationalize but there is still an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I look at Barb’s locker one last time before walking away.

I approach my locker and put in my combination to open it. I rise on relevé to see deep into my locker and pull out my chemistry textbook and my lunch. I shove my lunch in my bag and hold the textbook in my hand. When I close my locker, I notice a head full of hair. Eddie and Ronnie stand by the lockers in the sophomore hallway, talking amongst themselves. Eddie’s back is to me, but I can see the same dark brown curly hair of Ronnie. I think Ronnie is pretty in a rocker girl type of way. She exudes a carefree, nonchalance that deep down I envy, in her black leather jacket and hoodie. I am wound up so tight it’s difficult for me to relax sometimes. 

I am surprised when she catches my eye and smiles, waving at me as she did two days ago in the school parking lot. Eddie turns around with a frown on his face wondering who she was waving at and catches my gaze. The lines on his forehead smoothens and is replaced with a look I can’t explain. I can never explain the looks Eddie gives me, only the feeling that it conveys in me. Butterflies. It’s like they wake up all of a sudden and I feel warm and tingly. Ronnie says something and grins walking past him. The look on Eddie’s face is replaced with horror. The butterflies in my stomach turn into moths fluttering wildly.

It takes me a split second to realize Ronnie is walking towards me. My mind screams at my legs to move, to at least meet her halfway, but they don’t and I am standing here like I’ve been caught. Which technically I was. Eddie quickly scurries behind her, curly hair flapping behind him. Ronnie of course reaches me before him. 

“Hi, I’m Ronnie,” she greets with a smile. Eddie stands beside her, looking out of breath despite the short distance. 

The way I have to tilt my head look at her is a little embarrassing. She’s even taller up close. Dark brown eyes look down at me. Not in a dominant way where I feel threatened. Though her height is intimidating. But in a way that shows me she’s interested. Interested in me. I blink feeling my brain short-circuit for a moment and pan down. Her hand is extended. Waiting. I take her hand, shaking it. Her hand is warm. Mine feel clammy and I want the ground to swallow me up. 

“H-Hi,” I stutter. “I’m Diana.” 

“I know,” she says and her smile widens. Ronnie doesn’t look at Eddie when she says this. It’s like he doesn’t exist. I have to fight not to acknowledge his presence. We let go of each other’s hand and I clutch my book close to my chest. “Eddie’s told me about you.”

“Jesus.” He mutters, looking away.

My eyebrows shoot up in astonishment. “Really?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Oh.” I don’t know what to think or feel or say. The back of my neck feels hot. 

“And any close friend of Eddie’s is a friend of mines.” 

I blink. Not understanding what she means. Maybe I missed something because Eddie and I are not close friends. It makes me wonder what he has told her. I look at Eddie now and he seems like he’s a second away from bolting out the door. He’s fidgety and a little sweaty. 

“Sorry,” he says to me. “She was dropped on her head as a baby.”  

Ronnie flicks him on the nose and Eddie reaches to grab her wrist, but she’s too fast, taking a step back, putting her hands behind her back. She laughs at him and he sticks his tongue out at her. I giggle quietly, enjoying their antics. They truly did seem to have a brother/sister relationship. It reminded me of my relationship with Lucas. 

“I forgot something in my locker.” Ronnie says, eyes darting between Eddie and I. “I’ll see you in class, right?” She’s talking to Eddie now. 

“Of course, wouldn’t want to miss chemistry for the world.” 

Ronnie gives him a warning look, but smiles kindly at me. She waves again and walks away leaving Eddie and I alone. When Ronnie turns the hall, Eddie turns to me, scratching around his mouth. He gives me an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, about that.” 

“Don’t be. Ronnie seems very nice.”

“When she wants to be,” he comments under his breath. Eddie looks at me again. “I’m guessing you didn’t get caught last night.” 

“No, I didn’t.” I shake my head. “Thank you so much again for driving me home. Really. I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.” 

“Just don’t walk home in the middle of the night. Please.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I’ll drive all over Hawkins looking for you if I have to.” I tilt my head at that, looking up at him. Eddie scrunches his nose, closing his eyes. “That sounded so much better in my head.” I giggle. Eddie chuckles softly, opening his eyes. His cheeks are slightly pink. “It’s just creepy when I say it out loud.”

I scrunch my nose. “A little,” I admit. “But I understand the sentiment.” 

Eddie doesn’t respond, eyes looking around him. I follow his gaze, wondering what he was looking at. He stands straight taking a step back. I don’t realize how close we were until he does. 

“Do you want to have lunch with me?” he asks, out of the blue. The question throws me in for a loop. Lunch with Eddie. I open my mouth, but close it. Something shifts in Eddie and he clears his throat. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You’re probably going to meet up with your friends in the cafeteria.” 

Friends. My best friend is sitting in the cafeteria with Steve, Tommy H and Carol. My other best friend isn’t in school today. I am alone. I think about my dream. The way I was screaming for help and no one bothered to look. I didn’t think about where I was going to eat lunch today, because usually it’s with Nancy and Barb, but now…I don’t have anyone. The change I feared would happen had already started. Maybe it’s time to stop resisting it. 

“Yes, I’ll have lunch with you.” 

Eddie’s jaw goes slack for a moment but he quickly closes his mouth and smiles, with dimples this time. “Okay, um…” he scratches the back of his neck. “My lunch is actually in the van, so.” 

“Okay,” I nod, pushing myself off my locker. Eddie follows my stride as we walk towards the door and out the school. 

The weather is surprisingly mild for the winter months. Eddie and I walk through the parking lot towards his large van. I can’t believe it’s been hours since I’ve sat inside. The past few days have been nothing but bizarre. 

“What I mean to say is,” Eddie says after a few minutes. I realize he’s correcting himself from earlier. “If you ever need a ride anywhere,” He doesn’t finish the sentence and I can tell he’s not going to. The sentiment is there and it shocks me. I’ve only known of Eddie for 24 hours and he’s already offering to give me a ride, so I’m not out late at night by myself again. 

I look up at him, but he’s looking at the ground. I turn my head back, looking in front of me. The moths, turn into butterflies. I bow my head down, fighting back a smile. We arrive at his van at the back of the parking lot and I walk to the passenger’s side opening the door just as Eddie opens the door to the driver’s side. I climb inside the car sitting in the passenger’s seat and close the door. When I look up, Eddie stares at me, paper bag in hand. It takes me a moment to realize, he never said he wanted to eat in his van. My hands fly to my mouth. 

“I am so sorry.” I gasp, opening the car door. I can’t believe I forgot my home training. Mom would freak out if she knew what I did. 

Eddie blinks out of his stupor shaking his head. “It’s okay,” he says, climbing into his car. He closes the door. “I wasn’t clear. We can eat in here, if you want. I don’t mind.” He sounds relieved. I close the passenger door cringing at my blunder. How did I not realize what I was doing? 

We sit in the car in silence neither of us moving or both of us waiting for the other to start. I’m suddenly hyperaware of his presence. Eddie and I look at each other and start to laugh. The awkwardness dissipates and we both get our paper bags. Turns out we both have sandwiches, mine is turkey and cheese, his, peanut butter and jelly. The silence is comfortable between us and I find myself enjoying it. The past two days have been a whirlwind of confusion, fear and change. It feels nice to just be with someone in silence without feeling the need to talk all the time or feel like I’m being judged for just existing. 

“I didn’t forget the song you recommended, by the way.” Eddie says, between chews. “I’ve added it to my list.”

“I haven’t forgotten yours either.”

Eddie crumbles the plastic bag in a ball dropping it in his paper bag. He pulls out a bag of pretzels. I smile, knowing I have pretzels in my bag as well. I take a bite out of my sandwich observing Eddie. His hair is less frizzy today and I wonder what changed in his hair routine. I gaze down at his clothes, like Ronnie, he’s wearing a black leather jacket and hoodie with jeans and black boots. I think about Ronnie and Eddie calling each other to coordinate their outfits of the day and smile. Eddie is careful opening the Ziplock, pulling out a handful of pretzels.

“If you ever want to go to Main Street Vinyl sometime,” He pops a pretzel in his mouth. “We can listen to music.” 

“You listen to vinyl?” 

Eddie finishes chewing nodding his head. “Always.” 

“My dad only listens to vinyl.” I say, opening my bottle of water. “Says records sound better.” 

“He’s right.” 

I shrug taking a sip of water. “It all sounds the same to me.” 

Eddie looks as if I insulted him. He shakes his head popping another couple of pretzels in his mouth. “Oh man,” he says, voice muffled. “I definitely need to take you to Main Street Vinyl.” 

“Okay.” 

I accept the invitation feigning nonchalance. I don’t look at him as I close my water bottle, setting it beside me and continue to eat my sandwich. My heart is actually beating so fast and I’m surprised I don’t miss my mouth while taking a bite. I can feel him looking at me and meet his gaze. He’s staring at me like he did back in school and when I practically jumped into his car like I owned it. Like he didn’t expect my answer. 

Eddie blinks. “Cool.” He says, his voice hoarse. Scarfing down salty pretzels can do that to a person. “Just um…let me know when you’re free and I can pick you up.” His shyness makes me shy as well. 

“O-okay.” I stutter, my confidence waning. 

Eddie clears his throat reaching for a water bottle in the drink compartment. He takes a long drink and I think he’s going to finish the whole bottle in one sitting, but he stops, putting on the lid. “I’ll introduce you to all the greats.” 

“Judas Priest, KISS, Metallica, Ozzy Osbourne.” I list the names of the people he covers with his band. 

Eddie smiles. “And more.” 

I arch my brow. “Like who?” 

He turns to me and squints playfully, leaning close. “It’s a secret.”  He says lowly. I giggle.   

“Why does vinyl sound better?” I ask. My Dad says it does too, but I never understood what he meant. 

Eddie thinks for a moment. “It sounds…warm,” he starts, looking out the windshield. “That’s the best word to describe it.” He looks at me again. “It’s rich and deep. You feel like you’re watching the artists perform live. Like you’re in the same room as them. It’ll make sense when we go to the record store.”

“You seem to know a lot about music.” 

“Not as much as you think.” 

“It’s more than I know.” I add. I play with the plastic bag in my lap. “I like listening to you talk about music. Your connection to it is…sweet. I can tell you really love it.” 

“Sweet?” 

“Endearing.” I correct. And cute. But I’ll never say that out loud. 

Eddie’s cheeks are pink. So cute. He smiles and his dimples poke out. Really cute. “Thank you.” He chuckles. I beam. 

Eddie leans back against the door, fully facing me. He looks up and down and size to side at my face like he did last night. It’s intense and I thank heavens my brown skin hides the flush in my cheeks. He tilts his head, studying me. 

“So, Candy Girl,” He teases. “Tell me about something you love. Tell me about dance.” 

I’m vibrating. Not the kind you feel when you’ve been sitting down too long. The type you feel when you’re excited and slightly overwhelmed. I have only felt this way before a performance. My time with Eddie though brief, hasn’t felt that way. I’m a shy person; a person of few words when I’m getting to know someone. My true self saved for my family and best friends, but with Eddie I talk. I want to talk. I talk a lot, about dance. The Nutcracker auditions, Mei Wong, rehearsals. I felt myself stepping outside my shell. It’s weird and slightly off-putting. Eddie listens, asking questions if he doesn’t understand. He even tells me what he’s thinking. The conversation flows effortlessly. With everything that has been happening, I’m glad Eddie is around, even if it’s just for a moment. 

“Diana!” 

I blink out of my thoughts and turn my head. Nancy is rushing towards me and I am no longer vibrating. Just my normal self. I feel myself stepping back into my shell and it’s discomforting to feel this way about my best friend. 

“Diana, have you seen Barb?” Nancy asks me outside. 

It’s the first time Nancy and I speak since last night. During English I was too busy highlighting and making notes to talk. I shake my head, holding my chemistry textbook close to my chest.  

“Not since last night.” 

“Didn’t Barb drive you home last night?” 

“No, Barb decided to stay.” I walked home.  

“She stayed?” 

Nancy’s surprise causes me to look at her fully for the first time today. I glare at her. “Yes, to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid.” 

“I didn’t see her when I left.” 

“What? What do you mean?” 

Nancy shakes her head. “I didn’t see her.” 

Something unsettling swarms in my stomach but I push it down, shrugging my shoulders. “Maybe…she’s home sick. It was cold last night.” 

“Yeah…” Nancy says, but she doesn’t sound too convinced.

The silence between us is awkward. The remnants of last night weighing heavy. I start to walk away hoping to walk to class before the lunch crowd tumbles in and I am caught in a storm of elbows and backpacks. 

#stranger things rewrite #black fem reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #dianasinclair #eddie munson x black!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #sinclair!reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic March 6 – prompt 6 : Riddikulus – word count 474

Riddikulus - Used to defeat a Boggart, the charm allows the scary creature to assume a comedic form, disarming it

Maybe it had been a stupid idea, Sirius thought. Remus was smart and quick enough, he surely would have managed it. He had been so enthusiastic of the practical Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, all the class lined up to practice the Riddikulus charm on a Boggart who had decided to live in an old teapot Filtch had found in some abandoned cupboard.

“I would’ve put it to music, but it’s fun all the same,” he had heard him whisper to James.

He hadn’t seemed concerned, so maybe Sirius should have let it go. And yet, when Remus had stepped in front of the teapot, the Boggart already reshaping from Professor Dumbledore telling Lily there had been a mistake and she wasn’t actually welcome to Hogwarts as a Muggleborn, he had acted on instinct. He had ran to the front of the line, brutally shoving Remus to the side and opening his arms so the Boggart would focus on him and not his friend.

So that might have been a stupid idea. Especially now he was facing his mother, tall and dressed like the last time he had seen her before coming back to school for his third year, her hair a perfect crown on the top of her head. He felt his veins fill with ice as she advanced, pointing her bejeweled finger at him.

“You are a disgrace!” she said, the Boggart sounding actually shriller than the real Walburga Black. “You’re not worthy of the name you bear, you’re not worthy of being my son!”

Sirius saw her take another step forward and he had the time to think once again that maybe that had been really stupid before the whole classroom closed down on him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was on a mattress on the floor while the professor was instructing Mary to run and get Madam Pomfrey. He blinked, taking in James and Peter’s worried faces at his side and turning his head until he found Remus sitting nearby.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What happened?” Remus said.

“I thought…” Sirius looked around to make sure no one but his friends would hear him. “I thought the Boggart would see you and turn into a wolf. I didn’t want you to worry about our classmates finding out.”

“Oh, Padfoot,” Remus smiled fondly.

He reached out and took Sirius’s hand in his. Sirius smiled as well. That kind of smile from Remus Lupin was worth the whole school knowing his Boggart had turned into his mother and he had fainted. He didn’t stop to wonder why his heart was beating a bit faster.

Years later, Remus recreated that same lesson, adding the music as he had wanted. Despite all, he still thought of Sirius as he dived in front of James’s son to protect him from the Boggart.

#I was writing a cute and brave thing and then the last two lines happened #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #james potter #peter pettigrew #lily evans #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #the marauders era #walburga black #walburga's a+ parenting #just writing (like i'm supposed to live)

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Parabellum 🪙 | Top Gun Maverick Imagine/John Wick AU

Set in an alternate universe where Top Gun is actually part of an underground assassins bureau in NYC

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Parings: Dagger Squad x Wick!reader (platonic/work relationship), John Wick x adoptive cousin!reader (platonic), The Bowery King (platonic), The Adjudicator (platonic) Zero + students (platonic)

Content Warnings: angst, profanity, banter, blood, violence, graphic depiction of injury, mentions of death and murder. AU set in the JW universe where Top Gun is a tactical assassination squad for The High Table. Set during JW: Chapter 3–Parabellum, but everyone is the age they were in TGM (so the year 2013 since all the movies are set within days of each other despite released years apart) | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 8k

Premise: There are two rules everyone who works for the Table must follow: 1. No business on company grounds, 2. All Markers must be fulfilled. For John Wick, there are several debts he is owed as he battles against the whole world after breaking rule number one. And two of them fall under rule number two. John’s in for quite the treat when he heads to the Top Gun hangar to cash on of his debts from none other than his cousin, who happens to be the leader Top Gun’s infamous tactical assassin squad.

Note: Y’all I am so hype for John Wick Chapter 4. JW is one of my fav franchises and Keanu Reeves is my baby daddy 🥵 Maybe once Chapter 4 comes out I’ll do a part two to this since I have no idea what’s gonna happen to John and also if you’ve seen John Wick 3, do y’all think Winston is part of the BK’s plan or did he really betray John for his own selfish needs? like the Parent Trap imagine I did, I basically rewatched all the JW movies cause there was a marathon and got inspired. I really need to focus on my school work though cause I didn’t do so hot on my first writing assignment (it was research methods and my professor didn’t have the instructions very clear 😭) but I had to get this done and out first before taking a small few days of break to do my homework. — Bee 🐝

I do not own any of the characters from TGM or JW, this is for fictional purposes and entertainment. Read over CW before reading and reblogs , likes, and comments are welcomed but please do not steal or repost onto other platforms.

——————————

The phone was on the edge of breaking by how hard she was gripping it, cursing and flinching each time Halo strung a thread through her skin to seal the gaping wound that nearly sliced her face off. She couldn’t see out of her left eye and her lips were split in diagonal from the direction of the blade. Never had she experienced being cut by a katana in all her years of service….but there was always a first for everything.

“What do you want?” She winced again, glaring at the wall with hatred. While the Bowery King, who was experiencing his own hell with seven cuts to him, relayed to her the most recent update of their mutual ‘friend’, Y/n ‘Domino’ Wick thought back to the past last week. As much as she wanted to avoid it, she knew what was coming the second the message appeared on her phone: ‘John Wick—Excommunicado in effect in 1 hour. All services closed. Open Contract set at $14m.’

Seven Days Earlier….

The message was just sent out, everyone in the hangar appearing confused when the cell phones beeped at the same time causing them all to withdraw theirs from their pocket. Upon reading the words, multiple eyes turned to the woman seated at her desk. An opened bottle of whiskey was beside her, a stack of papers to be sorted through in a basket. She appeared emotionless as she read the message once before sliding the phone back in its place and storing it away.

“What’s up with Domino?” Omaha looked at Fanboy and Coyote when the woman rose from her chair before kicking it across the room and disappearing.

Fanboy shook his head, sighing in apparent distress, “You’ve heard of John Wick?” Of course he wasn’t talking about the fact his name was on the message they all got, he meant if Omaha knew who he was.”

“Only from stories. Ain’t he like the best there is.”

“The best and even more,” Coyote commented, already checking to make sure his gun was armed. “Man’s a beast. People call him the Boogeyman—or Baba Yaga to be more exact.”

“Anway,” Fanboy brought the attention back to him, noticing Domino called over Fritz, Rooster, Payback, and Hangman. They all were deep in discussion. “Domino and John were both orphans in Belarus, growing up together at the Ruska Roma.” Knowing what the Ruska Roma was combined with the fact Domino and John knew each other, Omaha made a face of shock. “They’re kinda like cousins—not sure if they are blood related, adoptive, or just grew close enough that they see each other as such. She doesn’t say a lot about her past, but before she became Domino her name was Y/n Wick. Now that Mav and Cyclone retired she’s been in service longer than any of us.”

“Just don’t ask questions, alright,” Coyote warned with a glance, “I know you’re new to the whole thing but keep quiet and you’ll live longer.”

If only Omaha had asked what John Wick looked like. Would’ve saved him a broken arm had he done so because when the poor guy went to do his surveillance, he was shocked to find a bloody man in their parking lot who immediately got in a tousle with when Omaha charged him.

The private hangar was located just a few miles from downtown at a very small private airstrip surrounded by a chain link electric fence, far enough and secluded that nobody in their right mind—unless of course, they were in need of service—migrated to. And unfortunately for Omaha he’d never seen John Wick before…so how was he supposed to know the intruder was the infamous assassin.

The two were going at it for a good three minutes until it ended with Omaha’s arm breaking and John’s belt around his neck. His air was constricted, the man fighting back against the hold in hopes of freeing himself. Before John could do the final twist to end Omaha for good, the sound of a gunshot followed by a speeding bullet against his face had John tripping back, releasing Omaha who took gasps of breath.

“That’s enough you two,” a stern voice said, multiple footsteps approaching. Looking up, John's eyes landed on his cousin flanked by members of her Dagger Squad on either side of her, guns trained on him as a warning for John to not make a sudden move. “We don't want things to get messy now do we?”

It had been years since the cousins had seen each other, well before John retired to marry Helen. They were roughly ten years apart in age, making Y/n around 40 now that John just turned 50. He was her mentor and protector during their time in the Ruska Roma, having been brought to the U.S from Belarus when John was 11 and Y/n was barely a year old. It’s unsure if they were even related but considering John looked after her like a family member people just assumed they were. Then when she got older she ditched her birth name and started going by Y/n Wick.

When John had heard several years before he retired that Y/n became a member of the Top Gun tactical execution squad, part of him felt he had failed her. Of course it was likely for her to join the underground world they were pretty much forced into by being a part of the Ruska Roma, but he hoped she’d not dive too deep. She was only 22 when she joined, becoming one of the best associates in the organization. Then just before he retired she was promoted to second in command, now four years later she was the leader after her predecessors decided to step down.

Looking at her now before him, he could tell Y/n had become the hardened contract killer she was destined to be. Reputation nearly rivaling that of his own. As a member of the Top Gun Tactical Dagger Squad Y/n earned the callsign ‘Domino,’ learning how to fly a plane due to the fact Top Gun provided services to associates by transporting them to and from locations. As highly skilled assassins the team are often hired by mobs, including the High Table when they don’t feel like sending their personal squads, to take out private contracts. Sometimes Y/n was directly offered contracts especially by those who wanted to keep their dirty work as hidden as possible.

Taking in the current Dagger Squad, John recognized most of them: Rooster, Payback, Fritz, Hangman, Coyote, Yale and Phoenix. When they last saw each other eight years before they’d all been recent recruits. Now they were molded killers. The other bunch were new faces—including the one he just broke the arm of. They had to have joined within the last several years. All wearing flight suits with their patches on the left breast, John read: Harvard, Bob, Fanboy, Halo, and lastly Omaha.

“You good, Omaha?” Y/n asked, not taking her gaze off of John. The man moaned in response.

“I think my arm is broken, boss.”

“Halo, Bob,” she simply said, the woman next to her and the man on the end dropping their guns to move over to the fallen man. When Halo walked off, Rooster took a step to the right so he was now directly next to Domino. On the opposite side to her left was Payback.

The two haul Omaha off, disappearing into the hangar. “Well,” Y/n puts her hands on her hips. “You sure know how to make an entrance. Hello, John.”

“Hello, Y/n.” She glared at the name, but made no move to correct it.

“Did you really have to break my guy’s arm?”

John gave a light shrug, putting his hand to his injured shoulder that was bleeding from a stab wound. “He came after me.”

Y/n gave an unhumorous laugh, shaking her head, “John, you got a fourteen million dollar bounty on your head. Can’t really blame him for trying—If I didn’t have a sense of why you’re here I’d give my crew the word and let them light you up before finishing you off myself.” It was harsh coming from a family member, but John couldn’t blame her. They’d been estranged for years now with their last encounters anything but friendly.

What John didn’t know though was Omaha had no idea what he looked like. Y/n was just trying to get under his skin.

“Go ahead and pull it out,” she challenged, eyes narrowing at the man. The squad kept their weapons raised, but relaxed their stance at her order.

Slowly John reaches into his jacket pocket, removing one of two Markers, making sure it was the right one before presenting it to the group. He saw the woman immediately stiffen, face tightening as the anger never left her eyes. In fact it looked like it increased by the sight of the object.

A debt she had to pay.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here, John. Some. Fucking. Nerve.”

“Y/n—.”

She cuts him off with a harsh tone, “You’re excommunicado, John. Services are now closed to you. As of five minutes ago that marker is void.” That last statement was actually on the fence.

There were two big rules in their world: 1. No business on company grounds. 2. All Markers must be fulfilled.

Given John broke rule #1 he was labeled excommunicado with the original contract of $7m by Santino D’Antonio doubled to $14m. Any and all services were now closed to him, even as simple as receiving medical treatment by a company doctor.

But what of the Markers?

John had two. One from Y/n and one from Sofia Al-Azwar, both given to John at different times, both where John had to transport and hide their children. In Y/n’s case she had gotten pregnant just shortly after leaving the Ruska Roma and was on her way to becoming a contract killer. She was barely 19 and in no way able to raise a child. So she called John and swore the blood oath to him that she would return the favor no matter the price or cost when the time came. Over 20 years later she still didn’t know what happened to her son. Sofia had originally come to Y/n to help her out when she needed to get her daughter away, but Y/n assured her John was better for the job, confessing he had done the same for her.

Would the Markers still have to be completed although he was banished and being hunted by the High Table? The same ones who order hits on those who don’t fulfill the Markers when presented by the person they owe? It was a tough situation.

It was Domino’s current situation.

John pleaded to her, opening the object to reveal her bloody fingerprint, “This is your blood. Your bond. When you needed help, Y/n, I was there. Now I need your help. You owe it to me, please.”

Y/n inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, “Top Gun works for the Table, John. We have been in service to them for decades. They will come for us—for me, for helping you.” In the corner of her eye she saw some of the crew stiffen, hands gripping their weapons tighter at the fear of facing the Table.

John gave her a look, “They will come for you if you don’t.” That had her nearly falter, seeing a look of angst overtake her.

“Some family you are, John. Bringing death to my door. Risking the lives of my team!” She couldn’t help but shout, no longer holding back her anger. All she could think about was the fact the Table likely already knew he was there. They had spies all over the city. Once he leaves they’ll be sending someone even if she didn’t help him. “What the fuck do you want anyway? What’s the favor you so desperately need after all these years that’s made you put me and my crew in danger.”

“My ticket,” he simply tells her, watching her face become ashen. “I know you still have it. I need it now, Y/n. That’s all I ask for.”

A long time ago John gave Y/n his ticket every orphan of the Ruska Roma receives upon ‘graduation’. A symbol of the favor the organization owes them after spending years under them. Y/n had cashed in on hers a long time ago, but John had her keep his safe. Believing he’d never have to use it.

It was kinda ironic when she started thinking about it.

“You could’ve had it all you know,” she dryly laughs, gazing hard at the man she saw as a cousin. “You got out—away from this. Tell me, Jordani, was it worth it?” She waits for a reply but it doesn’t come. Of course it wouldn’t. She could see it in his eyes it wasn’t. “What were you hoping to gain by hunting down the Tarasov punk? You should’ve fucking known it wouldn’t have ended once you finished the job. You opened the damn door, John. You gave Santino everything he needed to check in on his favor that you owed him. It honestly baffles me that you, John Wick, thought it was a good idea to give that man a marker. You’re reasoning? I'll never know.”

She has to pause to cool down a bit before continuing, “You could’ve asked anybody else to help you that night—you could’ve asked me, John. You had the marker all this time. Why the fuck didn’t you use it then?” She raises a hand as a signal for him to keep quiet all while ordering the squad to stand down. “Don’t answer that. I honestly don’t wanna know. It’s your fucking karma at the end of the day.” Again she gives a dry laugh, “I just find it hilarious honestly. The reason you’re in this shit show to begin with is because you owed Santino—which would’ve never happened if you didn’t let your impulses take over and go after Iosef Tarasov. You let some punk ass kid bring you back. A domino effect at its finest,” she has to laugh at her own joke, but nothing about it was funny. “Now here you are, cashing in on all the favors you’re owed. Me….The Director…I take it Sofia is next on your list?”

No answer. Y/n tightens her lips, nodding slowly, “I thought so. She’s over across the sea. You think she’s gonna just let you waltz in, John?” Y/n smirks, “but first you gotta survive getting out of New York. And unlike the other night when it was just the city after your ass, you got the whole world wanting a piece of you now. Fourteen million dollars,” she hums, tilting her head like she’s deep in thought. “Saying it out loud…it’s tempting.”

“Fifteen,” Fanboy says, making all eyes turn to him. “The contract just went up.” Y/n nods, turning back to John with a shrug.

“You hear that, John? I wonder who’s responsible for adding the bonus.”

“You’re not gonna kill me, Y/n,” he says unfazed, making her narrow her eyes a tad.

“And what makes you so confident I won't? Pretty bold of you to assume when you got ten guns on you.”

John tells her like it is, “Because you would’ve already done it by now.” He got her there. She would’ve given the signal the moment they surrounded him if she truly wanted him dead. And as much as Y/n was pissed off with John, he was the last person she had who she considered family. And she was indebted to him.

Hating the fact he was right, Y/n just nods, “Fair enough, John.”

“Look,” he holds up the Marker, “you do this for me and we’re done. You and I are even and the Table can’t fault you for following their rules.” His reasoning makes her scoff.

“You don’t really know if that’s true, John. But thanks for trying to lighten the situation,” she was being sarcastic, having had enough of the ordeal. “I’ll be sure to tell whoever they send exactly what you said. Maybe I'll live to see the next day.” They just stare at each other, letting the reality set in.

“Fritz,” the man beside Payback responds with a look at her, “bring me the blue book with gold trimming in the safe. The one on the top shelf—you know the one.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he holsters his gun and walks toward the hangar.

“Coyote, go get the keys for the Ducati Diavel,” when he goes Y/n then calls to the woman beside Rooster, “and Phoenix, grab me a 9mm from one of the units.”

“On it.”

“Fanboy, and Harvard,” the two snap to attention awaiting orders, “Go check on Halo and Bob, see if they need help dealing with Omaha and call the Continental doctor if need be.” She sees John falter at the mention of the doctor, remembering he was just there and had to shoot him in a non-fatal area on the docs insistent to cover for the face he helped John. “Actually scratch that…take him to the urgent care that’s off the road past the gate. Tell them Domino sent you.”

“Yes ma’am,” they both say and head out, leaving Payback, Yale, Hangman and Rooster on either side of Y/n, the woman standing in the middle between the four.

“What are you doing?” John asks.

“Paying my debt,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Ensuring the bargain has been fulfilled. You may have given me the impression all you want is your ticket, but I know you were hoping for something a little more. Consider it done.”

John shakes his head with a frown, “I wasn’t gonna—.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” she tightens her lips. “Sure you weren’t. How the hell else are you gonna get to The Director from all the way out here with nothing but a belt to defend you, John? I’m surprised you even managed to make it here within the hour.” Holding out her hand, Phoenix places the 9mm in the open palm. At that moment Coyote pulls up the motorcycle, keeping the keys in the ignition when he puts it on its stand. Then Fritz arrives with the book, handing it over to Y/n’s other open palm.

Approaching John, Y/n extends both hands to pass the gun and book to him. He holsters the gun first then opens the book to remove the fake page revealing the compartment with his ticket, aka the rosary, and a wad of gold coins. He pockets both the rosary and coins, before handing back the book and Y/n holds it out for Fritz to take back.

“You’re going to war, John,” she watches him open the Marker, pricking his thumb on the needle before placing his bloody fingerprint onto the open space beside her own. “With the whole damn world. Even if you make it to where you’re going…it won't end there. This is only the beginning.”

“I know,” he sighs, handing her the now complete Marker. “Consequences.” She gives a tight smile, fingers encasing around the object.

“Consequences. You should’ve thought about those before blowing a hole into Santino’s head. Would’ve saved you all the trouble.” He doesn’t react with the exception of a curt nod, knowing she was right. But he made his bed, now he has to lie in it. “Goodbye, John.”

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

They all watch as he mounts the bike and takes off into the darkness, becoming smaller with each minute until finally he’s out of their sights. Finally Y/n lets out the breath she had been holding, angry tears stinging her eyes that she refuses to let the team see. They’d never seen her scared before, she wasn’t gonna let them see now. Even though they had every right to be just as scared.

Gathering herself, she cranks her neck to the sky and closes her eyes for a brief moment before turning back to the remaining Squad members, the one who were coming up on ten years whereas all the others she sent away were only a couple years in. “Prepare the bunker,” she watched all their eyes widen, glancing at each other hesitantly.

“Are you sure, Dom?” Rooster questions, looking a bit unease. They hadn’t used the bunker in so long, it was gonna take time to prepare it. Not even the Table knew about it. Top Gun predecessors from when the underground crime world started built it for caution in case they were to have troubles with the Table. It was basically a whole level floor underneath the hangar equipped with everything they needed from food, water, bedding, clothing, and of course weapons and arsenal. They could survive weeks underground and no one would know. They had security surrounding the premises that they could access from below ground.

Domino was confident the Table had already been tipped off by an associate. They were gonna have to act quick.

“Very,” she walked a few steps, stopping so she was directly in front of the group. “Expect us to have company when the sun rises—maybe in a few days if we’re lucky. I’ll deal with the Table,” she assures, looking them each in the eyes. “When that happens I need you all to be in the bunker where you’re safe. And you will not come out until they have left the premises—regardless of what happens to me.” Immediately there were sounds of protest.

“Dom, that’s suicide,” Rooster states the obvious. Phoenix pitches in, “You’re not serious, boss.”

“There’s no way in hell we’re leaving you alone with them,” Hangman voices, going as far as taking a step closer to the woman. Fritz and Yale back him up while Payback comments, “You don’t even know if they’re coming.”

“I didn't ask for your input. From any of you,” she shuts them up. Rubbing a hand over her face, Y/n gives a tired sigh. “You don’t think I don’t know what they’re capable of? I have been in this life longer than any of you—I’ve seen everything you can imagine when it comes to the business we’re in. Or at least I thought until John Wick decided to cause hell two weeks ago,” she mutters the last part under breath. No one could’ve predicted that when John exterminated the Tarasov crime family that he’d be the Table’s #1 target. Where the rules were no longer black and white.

“My point is,” she calms down the raging thoughts in her head. “I’m the one who helped him. They are gonna come after me, but that doesn’t mean you all have to be in the crossfire. If they see you here, even if you’re not doing anything, they’ll kill you,” her tone turns harsher, to get it through their heads the seriousness of it. “I don’t want any of you going against the Table, not when I’m gonna need you all if I survive the meeting.”

“What do you think is gonna happen?” Yale is the one to ask the question.

“I don’t know,” she speaks truthfully. “But if John is going where I think he is…then tonight was just the beginning.”

Seven Days Later….

She honestly expected them earlier. Rumors spread in the days after John’s excommunication. An Adjudicator of the Table visiting those who assisted him. At the Ruska Roma, the Director had her hands sliced through with her entourage slaughtered just the day after John cashed in his ticket. Then the Bowery King was set to pay a price for refusing to step down after a warning of seven days to get his affairs in order. Many of his men dead within minutes. That morning he received seven cuts for the seven bullets he gave John the night he executed Santino, and was left for dead. Was he alive? Y/n wasn’t even sure. All she knew was Winston had until nightfall to step down from the Continental before they paid him a visit.

Right now though, in the early evening of the seventh day, Y/n sat in her chair in the middle of the hangar. Around her were Zero’s students, the man himself closest to her while the Adjudicator stood before her. Unbeknownst to the group the team of assassins they expected to have seen were down below watching the scene unfold through the monitors mounted on the concrete wall. They’d been underground for the whole week, Y/n not risking them being out in the open when she knew the Table would arrive at some point.

After the first day she was confident it was to spook her. Especially after discovering the Director was punished for her role in transporting John across the Atlantic. Yes, they were trying to scare her alright. They damn well knew she aided John Wick. They were just waiting for the right time to make their presence known.

“Where is the Dagger Squad, Domino?” The Adjudicator paced in front of her, eyes drifting over the empty hangar. It was too quiet for her liking.

“On a mission.”

“There were no recent contracts from my knowledge for your department. When did this happen?” She pressed, turning to the assassin. Y/n could tell she was examining her body language, hoping to catch her in a lie.

“A private one came in this morning. I sent them off just before you arrived.”

“From?”

“The Triads,” she answered confidently.

“Where to?”

“Out west. They requested the location to be confidential. You understand, right?”

The Adjudicator nodded slowly, not really sure if she believed the woman, but kept her gaze focused. Two planes were moved to make it look like they were gone. Domino hoped they would take the bait.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

“I have my suspicions,” Y/n replied, remaining calm and unthreatening. “It wasn’t hard to guess after whispers coming in from the city.” It was obvious she was referring to the Bowery King and Director.

“And do you have anything to say for yourself about why you broke the rules and aided John Wick in his escape from New York? I am well aware of your personal history with him.”

Y/n willed herself not to react to the last comment, focusing on the question. “I owed him a debt. Which you already know—it’s why you’re here. Maybe you can tell everyone at HQ to add more details on the fine print of what to do when the bearer of your Marker breaks the rules. As far as I’m concerned,” she dares to shrug, “I followed them.”

“So you have a point,” the tattooed woman gives a tight expression, not liking her attitude. “You may have upheld the rule of the Table but that doesn’t mean you didn't do more than what you had to. Especially due to the personal connection involved. John Wick was seen coming to this location on foot and leaving twenty minutes later on a motorcycle.”

Y/n tilts her head, now looking bored. “What are you getting at? That’s part of what he wanted.”

“Tell me what all he wanted, Domino, in order for the debt to be paid.”

Y/n kept eye contact, the two almost in a staring contest with neither wanting to blink as she listed off what all she provided. “The book containing his ticket, coins, and a 9mm that he had me store ages ago for ‘emergencies,’ and a mode of transportation.”

“You didn’t offer one of your pilots to escort him to Morocco?”

“He didn’t indicate Morocco was where he wanted to go,” she fired back. Now she was playing dumb. Of course she knew he was heading there since Sofia was now the manager of the Moroccan Continental. “He just wanted those things and then said he’d be on his way. And because I didn’t know if the Marker was invalid given his status, I delivered with his request. Fulfilling the Marker because that is your rule.”

The Adjudicator takes a moment to think before placing her hands behind her back. “I may not have proof you acted against the Table, Domino, but rest assured we will find out if you did. Until then, I will leave you with a warning of what is to come when that happens.”

Y/n’s heart kicks in pace, stiffening when Zero comes to stand in front of her. Before she could react a searing pain erupted in her face, head snapping to the side by the force causing the woman to fall from her chair. “GAHHH!!” She audibly reacted as she landed on the ground, hands going straight to her face only to be drenched in the blood pouring from the gaping cut. She couldn’t even open her left eye, her right one watery causing her vision to be blurry. Looking up she saw Zero wiping his katana with his sleeve.

He fucking sliced her face.

The iron taste in her mouth was due to the fact her lips were split. It was a diagonal direction of the blade against skin, going from the edge of her right jaw all the way to her left temple—completely cutting her lips and slicing her eye. Speaking of her eye it was on fire, figuratively speaking. Glancing around she silently thanked the fact her eyeball wasn’t staring back at her meaning it was still in its socket. But judging from the pain and the fact when she tried to open it she was met with darkness indicated the eye was long gone.

Underground, members of the Dagger Squad had to refrain from getting into the elevator and rush in guns blazing. They were given orders, and if the Adjudicator did not report back to the Table they would know something happened and send their full force against them.

“She’s alive,” Rooster said in relief when Y/n moved, them all watching her hands go to her face. Phoenix changed the camera to a different angle and they saw the full extent of her injury. Everyone grimaced, some cursing at the sight of Domino’s bloodied face. It was literally sliced at an angle.

“Fuck,” Fanboy muttered, Halo already moving to gather medical supplies.

“She said to wait until they were gone,” Payback reminded them when a few started to move to the elevator. The Adjudicator, Zero, and his students had just left the hangar, but had yet to be fully off the premises. On the monitor it showed Y/n stumbling as she tried to locate the closet with towels and supplies. Blood trailed after her, leaving a line in its wake. It wasn’t until the cars passed the gate and were well off into the city that the squad rushed to the elevator.

“Domino!” Y/n heard someone shout, mind a bit hazy from the blood loss and beginning to feel numb.

“I got you, boss,” Fritz picked her up bridal style and rushed her to the makeshift medical room with Halo and Bob running behind him. Placing her on the bed they got to work. Halo started an IV while Bob did his best to apply pressure on the wound.

“She’s gonna need blood,” Bob said, cursing by the amount she was losing. “Who here shares her blood type?”

“Hangman, Phoenix, and Coyote,” Halo lists off, grabbing the syringe with a light sedative to help Y/n with the pain.

“We’re gonna need all three then. Fritz, can you—.”

“Already on it,” he doesn’t let him finish the sentence, yelling out their names who all appear within seconds. With Harvard the two begin setting up to remove a pint of blood from each.

“You with us, Dom?” Halo takes a light to shine in each of her eyes, apologizing when Y/n moans when her left eye is touched.

“As best as I can be. Just do what you have to do. If I die, I die.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Bob tells her. “You’re gonna be fine, Dom.”

For a good couple hours they were working on repairing the wound. Y/n was a little dozy from the drugs, but managed to stay away during the whole thing. When it came time for the stitches, Halo was about halfway done when Rooster came in with Y/n’s phone. “It’s the Bowery King.”

“Help me up please,” she motioned for them to help her sit up, Halo careful with the sting and needle in her hands. Bob and Fritz pulled to an upright position before she asked for the phone. Rooster handed it over, moving to stand with Phoenix and Payback against the wall. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Y/n placed the phone to ear. “What do you want?”

She received a chuckle, “You sound as bad as I feel.”

“Just fucking get to it. I can’t move my mouth without wanting to scream so let me hear what you have to say and let us be done with it.”

“Have you heard the latest on Mr Wick?”

“He’s the reason Berreda lost his balls.” She received another chuckle.

“Well our friend is stateside again. Lucky bastard cut a deal with the one who sits above the Table.”

Y/n stilled, blood running cold. “He found the Elder.” Those in the room who knew what she spoke of shared the same reaction.

“He did,” the King muses. “And the deal for him to remain breathing is to be forever bound to the Table. The first on his list of bidding is Winston.”

Y/n had to pull the phone away for a moment, in disbelief at the news. She almost wanted to laugh at how things seemed to turn out for John. “He’ll never do it. Winston knows how to manipulate him to get what he wants. I wouldn’t put it past the old man to betray him in the end.”

“I’m happy you and I are on the same page. I was thinking the same exact thing—which is why when the time comes, I’ll be there to pick John up.”

Right as he finishes his sentence all the phones beep, those in the room removing theirs to see the text. Domino looked at her own phone, shaking her head when she read: “The New York Continental status has been changed to Deconsecrated. In effect in thirty minutes.”

“Would you look at that,” the Kind hummed. “Just what I expected. I give it til dawn before they get tired.”

Y/n was starting to get annoyed, wanting him to cut to the chase. “So why are you calling me now?”

“Because I want us to be a step ahead of them, Domino.”

Y/n takes a moment before saying, “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been doing some thinking over the past week—and after this morning these cuts have sealed the deal,” he laughed at his own irony. “All this High Table bullshit….under the Table is where shit gets done and you know it. All of us are pawns in their game. I say it’s time we dethrone them once and for all.”

Y/n straightens her posture, processing what the King was implying. “You’re asking for war.” She noticed her team visibly reacting to the statement. “You’re wanting to go to war with the Table.”

“Quite so.”

“And you want me and my team to help you.” There was no need to say it like a question.

“Just think about it,” he tells her. “Wait the night out or wait for my call. We’ll discuss more then.” Before she could reply the constant beep filled her ears signaling he had hung up. Sliding the phone in place, Y/n stared ahead, this time not even flinching as Halo worked on her.

It was quiet for the remainder of the hour, the beeping of phones signifying the deconsecration of the Continental was in effect. When Halo cut the last bit of thread on Y/n, the woman downed the painkillers and gulped the water bottle in seconds.

“You’re all dismissed. Stay close to the hangar—I don’t trust that they’re not lurking by the gates.” When they all left she changed into a fully black outfit, ending with a leather trench coat. Then she shuffled through one of the cabinets to find an eyepatch, which was a fucking sight when she put it on.

“I look like that dude from those comics Fanboy reads,” she announced when she walked into the area everyone was in, many of them stopping what they were doing. Phoenix, Bob, and Payback were cleaning the blood off the floors while Hangman and Fritz watched the monitors. Halo was checking over Omaha. Yale, Harvard, and Coyote were going through inventory and finally Rooster and Fanboy had finished up calls with potential clients. All eyes turned to Domino, Fanboy having to hold back his comment of saying, “Nick Fury,” though he did have a small smile on his face.

“How you feeling, boss?” Payback questioned, taking a seat on a chair after discarding the bloody water from when he mopped the floors. His answer was a groan, followed by her saying, “Like I should’ve let y’all shoot John Wick and spare me from becoming a raggedy Ann doll.”

Falling into a chair, Y/n thanked the glass of whiskey from Fritz and accepted a cigarette, leaning forward to light it when he offered the lighter flame. Checking the time on the wall, it was approaching midnight. God did she blackout or something? Where the hell did the time go? By now the Continental was likely a graveyard.

“I’m sorry about this week guys,” she said softly, letting the smoke leave her lips, wincing from the sting as the stitches keeping them together served as a reminder of what happened. “I should’ve told you all about the Marker ages ago.”

“It wasn’t our business, Dom,” Hangman pulls up a stool, setting himself on it once it appeared the coast was clear. “Those things are between those involved.”

“Yeah,” Coyote pitched in. “None of us blame you. We probably would’ve done the same. We just hate that you were punished for upholding the deal.”

“It’s not completing the Marker they were upset about,” she taps the cigarette against the ashtray. “Had I not, it would’ve given them the excuse to kill me even though there is no official rule about Markers and those who bear one that are excommunicated. It was the fact they know I did more than what was needed. I could’ve just given John the ticket and sent him off, but instead I willingly armed him with the means to have better odds. That’s why they’re pissed.”

“But they have no proof,” Harvard said from the side. “How would they know you did?”

“They know our history,” she simply sighed. “That’s enough for them to have suspicion. Whether the Adjudicator did it on her own accords or the Table ordered her to give me a good warning that they’re onto me…what’s done is done.” She finished her cigarette, “Now we figure out how to keep them off our backs.”

Several of the daggers looked at each other, wondering how to ask the question they all wanted to know since her phone call. Rooster is the one to speak up, “What about the Bowery King?”

“What about him, Rooster?”

“He’s wanting war with the High Table,” he crosses his arms, ignoring the looks from those who were not present when Domino was on the phone. They appeared surprised, and a little uneasy.

“He’s out of his damn mind,” she told him harshly, trying to not show she was tempted at stepping down from her position to join the mission. Hatred at the Table was rising in her, the King making a fair point at how everything gets done under the Table but they get to reek the benefits of what they do.

Y/n wanted to fight back, she really did. But she wasn’t gonna take her team down with her. They still had lives and going against the Table would not be easy. If she were to take the Bowery King up on his offer she would do it alone and spare them all.

“You know he’s right,” Halo pitches in, surprising the woman. Then she remembered Halo was right next to her and probably heard the entire conversation. “Everyone of us, those in service and in management, are just pawns for the Table and those who sit above it. We’re the ones who keep this business alive while they get to sit back and relax.”

Catching onto that Halo was leaking what the Bowery King told Domino, Phoenix stands from her chair. “You’ve been in service longer than all of us, Domino. You said it yourself. Haven’t you realized things are starting to get out of hand? I mean look!” She gestures to Y/n’s face, “You followed their rules and they nearly took half your face off. Who gives a fuck if you did more than what you had to—John Wick is your family. How could they not expect you to want to help him?”

The others voice agreement, Fritz nudging Y/n lightly with his arm, “It’s not fair, Dom. It hasn’t been fair in years. I say we should do it.” He specifies when she gives a confused look, “Join the Bowery King.”

“No,” she shakes her head immediately, “No—if anyone is going against the Table, it’s gonna be me. I’ll step down and you guys continue what we’ve done here for decades. I will not have you all die because of my cousin's mess.”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” Hangman politely grabbed her attention. “It’s not up to you. Even if you step down, we still can join him if we please. So why not do it together. Because we’re not letting you go alone.” Everyone agrees with murmurs and nods, causing Y/n to drop her head between her shoulders.

“We’re talking war. Against the High Table—not some single crime syndicate we’ve dealt with before, this is all twelve seat holders, the Elder, and all their subordinates. Which we—,” she gestures to all of them, “we are those subordinates. This goes past New York…it’s the whole fucking world.”

“We know,” Payback says with confidence. “We know the risk, Dom. We’re willing to take it.”

Y/n connects her gaze with each member, seeing the determination in their eyes causing an emotion she couldn’t describe to swarm through her. What she didn’t know was they each were on board the second Rooster and Halo revealed the Bowery King’s offer. Seeing their friend and comrade nearly die by following the rules they all swore to obey ignited a fire in them. They were after revenge. Who’s to say the Table wouldn’t come after them in the future. Better to stop them now before that could happen.

The assassin was having trouble grasping it all. This was her family. The people she trusted most in the world. John was once that person, and right now he has a lot to do to gain it back, but if he joins the cause then they could be unstoppable. And from what the King told her, he was confident by dawn John would be involved.

“Okay,” she says softly. “We do this as a team. The same way we’ve always done. But no one—,” she lifts a finger to emphasize her point, “no one steps out of line or goes rogue because an opportunity arises. We have to play this safe. We need to be tactical in our approach. Even if it takes weeks, months, hell, even a year or more before we see some action, then we will be patient. The Bowery King, John, maybe even Winston if the old man doesn't become a snake, all of us know the best thing to do is hit the Table when they are at their most vulnerable. When that happens….it will break before our eyes.”

Seven Hours Later….

John looked lifeless as he laid on the cold ground. Who could blame him really after he fell over ten stories while hitting obstacles that broke his fall. Not even five minutes after he landed a white van pulled up in the narrow alley, Harvard and Yale hopping out from the back to drag the man into the vehicle. Before they could close the doors a gray pit bull jumped in, licking John’s face. Recognizing the dog as the one Y/n warned them about, they shut the doors and yelled for Coyote to start driving.

When they got to meet up point, John was handed off to one of the Bowery King’s surviving men, wheeling John into the underground tunnel they had all taken up camp. Coyote ditched the van with all three sneaking into the tunnel, careful for prying eyes. Once in the tunnel they got to work with half of the Daggers while the other half accompanied Domino where the King was located. Like the Top Gun boss, the King had stitches on his face and neck. His cuts were smaller than the one she received, but enough to do damage.

“How you doing, John?” He asked from his throne. John’s dog made himself comfortable on the couch. Off to the side, barely seen with the limited light stood Rooster, Hangman, Payback, Fritz, and Phoenix. “You look as bad as I feel,” he started to laugh the same way he did over the phone, setting down his orange soda, “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. Raise a hand if you can hear me, John.”

With a tremor, John lifted his left hand to raise his index and middle fingers, making the King go, “Oh shit. They took a finger. Ain’t that a bitch?” His laugh increased in volume when John maneuvered the hand to show only his middle finger. The rumble of his chest from laughing made the King groan from the pain of his injuries there.

“Oh John. Fucking. Wick. So, the old boy keeps his hotel and you take the fall. Can’t say I blame him I would’ve done the same thing if I was in his shoes,” he pauses to inhale as he moves to stand from his throne, “But this High Table shit. Seven cuts. You should see what they did to your cousin. In fact, she’s right here.” A cane is in his hands when he begins to move closer to John.

The heels of Y/n’s boots echo, the light hitting her stitched face when she comes to stand beside the King. “Damn,” she mutters with a grimace. “That fall sure did a number on you, Johnny boy.” John doesn’t look at her, he keeps his head down the entire time. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up here? I was hoping to be rid of ya after last week. Funny how fate works.”

The Bowery King chuckles, focusing back on John. “Under the table is where shit gets done. And they about to find out if you cut a king, you better cut him to the quick. So,” he lowers himself to the ground, holding onto his cane. “Let me ask you, John, how you feel?” John pants, face still hidden by his raggedy hair. The King speaks with menace, “‘Cause I am really. Pissed. Off. Are you pissed off, Dom?”

Y/n crouches down, elbows resting on her hips as her one eye stares down on her bloodied cousin. Her tone is the same as the King’s, “I’m really fucking pissed off. You pissed, John?”

“Hmm?” The King awaits his answer, hands shaking from how angry he was. “Are you?”

The fallen man finally starts to move, the two watching closely as he holds himself up on his hands. When he turns to face them, they finally see his bruised face, but they are more drawn to his eyes. He’s absolutely pissed the fuck off.

“Yeah.”

………………

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @poppyalice2001, @americaarse, @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black

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[jinwoosungs]

{ 07 }

- sharing a bed together with the first years -

featuring: megumi fushiguro; yuji itadori; + nobara kugisaki x fem.reader

-separate imagines-

[ megumi fushiguro ]

gojo satoru was a bastard-

and he knew it.

ever since your nosy teacher found out about your crush on megumi fushiguro, you could have sworn gojo was doing all that he could to set you up on "romantic encounters" with your fellow classmate.

and it was driving you damn near up the wall.

megumi was so stoic and emotionless through it all that you were 100% certain he wasn't catching on. in fact, the only thing he commented on was how often you were paired together.

and today was no different.

your latest mission had taken you and megumi to the heart of shibuya, researching on some age old curse that was tormenting a certain area of the city.

after doing a quick reconnaissance mission, gojo had given you orders to return back to the destined hotel and to rest and wait for further instructions. he had promised you that the room would have two separate, queen-sized beds-

so imagine your horror upon seeing a single king sized bed settled in the middle of your hotel room.

the bastard had purposely lied to you, and you swore if you had to sleep at such a close proximity to megumi, then you were going to spontaneously combust.

in contrast to your panic, megumi was as calm and tranquil as an untouched pond, unfazed and disinterested as he dropped his duffel bag on the provided couch all while asking, "is there a spot you'd rather have? i'm cool with taking whatever side."

"u-uhm that's okay, fushiguro, i-i can just sleep on the couch or something."

the young man scowls at you, "are you kidding me? the couch barely has enough room, and it can't transform into a futon. it's more practical to just sleep on the bed."

well, when he put it that way, it was clear that megumi wouldn't relent and allow you to sleep away from him. you sigh and come to agree with him with a heavy heart.

staking your claim on the left side of the bed, you watch as megumi takes the right side. hoping to try and relax, you tell him that you were going to take a shower, grabbing your pajamas before immediately locking yourself into the bathroom.

the shower did little to calm your nerves. despite how much you turned the faucet to pelt you with the hottest droplets of water, you couldn't stop your heart from racing at the thought of sharing the same bed with him.

after spending thirty minutes in the shower, you let out a deep sigh and shut off the water. maybe if you get out now, you can pretend to sleep if he decides to take a shower himself.

with you now fully dressed, you continue to dry yourself as the leftover droplets were seen running down your neck. megumi looks over to say something to you, only to fall short. his eyes were uncharacteristically wide while his mouth kept opening and closing.

this behavior was odd, and you figured the shampoo the hotel provided smelled strange or something. yet when you took a sniff at your body, you could only detect the mild scent of lavenders.

before you could ask megumi what was wrong, he quickly excuses himself all while slamming the bathroom door. the annoyance was clear on his face, and you figured it truly was best for you to fall asleep as soon as possible to avoid further upsetting him.

you get under the covers, having every intention of letting sleep consume you-

but when you heard the shower turn on, all you could think about was how hot megumi must look naked beneath the shower's spray. you had seen his body a few times throughout the weeks you spent together at school, which was admittedly what had made you develop such an intense infatuation with him.

speaking of infatuation, you could already feel your heart beat even faster from within your chest. the feeling coupled along with the butterflies that took over your stomach made you feel so sick all of a sudden.

and there was no way you could do this.

just when you were about to get out of bed and demand to be in another room, megumi appears out of the bathroom. dressed only in a dark pair of sweatpants, you could see the way the water ran down his perfectly sculpted body, making you squeak as you buried your face within the blankets. you were too damn embarrassed to move, and with how good megumi looked, you had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

not questioning your weird behavior, you hear megumi walk across the room to shut off the lights. blanketed in complete darkness, you couldn't help but tremble, feeling the bed dip with megumi's added weight.

for several minutes, the only sounds that were heard were both of your breathings. you tried to keep your breathing as even as possible, yet it was almost impossible for you to do so. you were just so nervous.

megumi made you nervous.

and the fact that you liked him so much made it all the more difficult.

clenching your eyes shut, you willed yourself to not think about it.

don't think about how soft megumi's hair looked after a shower.

don't think about how he was laying next to you, half naked with only a pair of sweats hanging from his hips.

don't think about how good he smelled.

or how-

your thoughts were suddenly cut off when you finally fell asleep. admittedly, it was the type of restless slumber, where your limbs seemed to take on a mind of its own, moving all across the mattress all while seeking some form of warmth.

the temperature had suddenly dropped within the hotel room due to the automatic air conditioning. as the cold air blew into the room, you found yourself reaching out to megumi in your sleep. you didn't stop moving toward him until you were a tangle of limbs, with your face pressed against his shoulder and his chin resting on top of your head.

only when you felt the steady heartbeat against your skin did you open your eyes and let out a gasp.

your entire body was pressed against megumi's, with your chest against his chest as a wave of dizziness washes over you. your face felt hot, and when you tried to push him away, he ends up tightening his grip on you.

"don't move away from me." you shyly meet his gaze, only to find him blushing down at you. "it's cold in here, and you're warm."

gripping the back of your neck, he hides your face within his chest to prevent you from seeing his flustered expression.

"go to sleep."

hearing his heart begin to race, you couldn't help but smile, nuzzling yourself even closer to megumi as you felt yourself smiling against his skin.

maybe gojo wasn't such a bastard after all.

[ yuji itadori ]

"whoa, this is so cool! we get to share a room together!"

you barely had time to put your belongings down when yuji ran to you and wrapped his arms around you. his enthusiasm makes you giggle, and you swore that if he was a puppy, you'd see his tail wagging with excitement.

but there seemed to be a glaring issue that yuji was ignoring.

"uhm, you do realize there's only one bed, right?"

as if hearing your question for the first time, yuji looks behind him to see that you were indeed correct. settled in the corner of the room was a single queen-sized bed, but that didn't deter yuji in the slightest.

"that's okay, you can have the bed! i'll just spread some bedsheets on the floor, just throw me a pillow and-"

"absolutely not!" you refused to let yuji sleep on the floor. it was like making a cute puppy sleep all by himself in a cold and dark attic-

okay, maybe you were exaggerating just the tiniest bit, but just the thought of yuji being on the cold, hard floor was painful enough.

"yuji, we can share the bed! there's plenty of room for us! besides, it'll be like our own personal sleepover!"

you could see the way yuji's eyes lit up with happiness. "awesome, it's a deal!"

you were happy to say that there was no drama when it came to you and yuji preparing for bed. after taking a bath and getting comfortable in your respective sleeping clothes, you each fell into bed and began talking about all sorts of things.

you adored yuji so much; he was whom you considered to be your best friend and main confidant when you had issues in your life. as you listened to yuji and the way he whispers excitedly to you, you felt your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

and you were so comfortable that you fell asleep instantly while laying beside your best friend.

your dreams were a bit muddled, yet you swore you felt someone gently touching at your face. they were whispering your name, and you shivered a bit with pleasure when you felt the back of their hand running down your skin.

but something about that touch felt too warm and too real to just be a dream. slowly, you open your eyes to see yuji still awake with the softest expression on his face.

his chocolate brown eyes were honed in on your features, appearing as though he were yearning for you. it was a face you had never seen him make before, and the fact that it was directed at you made you feel all sorts of emotions.

you end up surprising yuji when you place a hand over his, making him gasp when he nearly jumps out of bed. he lets out a shaky cry of your name, yet you did your best to remain calm.

"yuji, i've never felt you touch me so gently before." you shut your eyes and keep the palm of his hand against your cheek. "it's nice."

it was now yuji's turn to feel embarassed, turning a beet red as he shyly inches closer to you. "c-can i tell you a secret?"

"of course."

you open your eyes to see yuji swallow thickly before admitting, "i like you."

"i know." you tell him all while letting out a soft laugh. "i like you, too. and to prove it-"

wanting to see his reaction, you press a kiss against the tip of his nose, earning a surprised squeak from him as his whole face began to turn red in response to your little kiss.

who knew your boyfriend could be so adorable?

[ nobara kugisaki ]

"hey, what are you reading?"

nobara, being the clingy girl that she was, immediately wraps her arms around your shoulders. she affectionately nuzzles your cheek, trailing her eyes over the novel you were currently reading.

"ugh, how boring." she immediately takes the novel away from you, tossing it to the other side of the room as you scolded her. "n-nobara! what was that for?!"

"come on, we just landed a sweet hotel and all you wanna do is read? let's order room service and eat all the cakes we want in bed!"

"you can go ahead and do that. i would like to avoid having a stomachache, thank you very much!"

"suit yourself~" her voice trills as she picks up the phone to order her cakes while you went to pick up your book and continue to read where you left off.

when the cakes arrived, you found yourself not paying attention to nobara as you were sucked into the storyline of your book. the plot had you on the edge of your seat, and you found yourself wanting to know more with each new chapter.

you were halfway through your novel when you finally realized how late it was getting and how stiff your body felt from sitting in one position for too long. as you stretched out your legs, you felt the crumpling of cupcake wrappers beneath your feet and scowled.

"you made such a mess!" before you could scold nobara for not throwing away her trash, you felt the words become trapped in your throat the moment you saw her fast asleep while curled next to you in bed.

despite her rambunctious nature and extroverted personality, nobara was quite the beauty. you had always admired just how pretty she was, often comparing her to the sun with her ginger hair and bright eyes.

even now, with cake crumbs and half eaten cookies surrounding her, you found her to be achingly beautiful. as if caught in a spell, you feel yourself inching closer to her, taking in her peach tinted lips and the way her eyelashes brush against her skin. your hand reaches out to brush her hair back, only to have it caught within nobara's tight grip.

almost immediately, you were pushed back in bed with nobara smiling slyly. she hovers over you, all while cooing, "it's about time my precious girlfriend gave me some attention. i was truly about to give myself a tummy ache had you not stopped reading, cutie ♡ !"

"nobara, you absolute brat-"

you were cut off when she kisses you, allowing you to taste all the chocolates and frosting from her lips alone.

only nobara could give you the sweetest kisses, and you knew your anger and annoyance had quickly melted the moment her lips met with yours.

a.n. - this little imagine is part of my little gift for all you readers ♡ by some miracle, this blog reached 600 followers and i'm so happy! i had no idea this blog would blow up so much, since all i wanted to do was write down my daydreams and thirst posts and have them all neat and tidy on this one blog. i didn't think anyone would truly enjoy them, but i'm so damn happy that you all do ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

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