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kentopedia · 10 months

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piece of cake

FEATURING. nanami kento x f!reader — wc: 9.8k

SUMMARY: nanami can't help but notice your strange behavior, and he begins to grow suspicious (aka you throw him a surprise birthday party)

CONTENTS: sorcerer!reader, nanami's bday, husband nanami, reader & nanami povs, gojo being the bestest friend, also everyone loves nanamin!! very very light angst, slight misunderstandings, and ofc nanami being the love of my life. sfw!!!

note: this ended up way longer than i intended! the ending is a bit rushed, but i really wanted to finish it before his birthday ended. i love this sweet man so much :(

Nanami didn’t want to be that kind of man.

He knew that letting his thoughts wander into accusations were a one-way ticket to unfounded miscommunication. It was senseless to even go there; coming up with wild solutions that he couldn’t back up would only cause problems that didn’t need to happen in the first place.

With his whole heart, Nanami trusted you. He loved you, and he had never doubted that you felt the same. Honesty was important, and you were both mature enough to understand that communication was the only way to make a relationship work.

He reminded himself of that whenever his mind was clouded with uncertainty.

There was still a small twinge of doubt that wouldn’t leave him alone, and day after day, it became more and more difficult to convince himself that he wasn’t concerned. Every time he tried to speak with you about your strange behavior, you’d talked him into circles, bringing him right back to the beginning of the question like he’d never asked it at all.

Nanami tried to tell himself he was creating something out of nothing, but for weeks, you’d been coming home late, you were always on the phone, and he would have been an optimist or an idiot if he truly believed you weren’t hiding something.

When he really put his mind to it, he could stop himself from coming to unfathomable conclusions. You’d never given him reason to doubt you, even if your behavior had become suspicious as of late.

What he couldn’t diminish was the deeply buried fear that, maybe, you wanted someone more than him.

The entire mess had started just a month ago, when he’d stumbled into the lounge at the high school, a book tucked under his arm and a coffee in his hand. Lunch hour had just ended.

Nanami visited you at the school often, and at this time, you were almost always training Maki, or switching off a class with another sorcerer. Your schedule rarely deviated, and if you weren’t in the middle of teaching, it was because they’d needed you elsewhere.

So, of course, he was surprised to see you were doing neither of those things. Instead, you were in the lounge with Gojo, talking in hushed voices while you stood strangely close to one another.

Your back was turned towards the door when Nanami entered, and you gesticulated wildly with your hands. Between your speed and the low volume of your voice, Nanami couldn’t catch a word of what you were saying. It was obvious that you were excited, and Gojo leaned up against the back counter with an indulgent smile, placing his fingertips to his chin thoughtfully.

Nanami wasn’t sure whether or not to announce his presence, so he let the door slam shut behind him, breaking up your enigmatic conversation.

You whipped around in surprise, your eyes wide. In a similar manner, Gojo’s head darted up like he had no idea Nanami had entered at all. The scene would’ve been comical if it hadn’t been so unfamiliar.

“Nanamin!” Gojo stumbled around the first syllable of his name before recovering smoothly, smiling that cheeky grin of his. “When did you get in? I thought your assignment wasn’t until later this afternoon?”

As Nanami slid into the room, he glanced between you and Gojo with pinched eyebrows, attempting to ignore his unusually awkward behavior. Gojo slid across the countertop, slowly inching away from you until he hit the edge.

“Kento!” you said, in a voice that was much squeakier than your normal tone as you shattered the silence. “You’re here early.”

Nanami had long since given up on trying to understand Gojo Satoru’s behavior, but you were a different case entirely. Your smile was lopsided and uncomfortable, and you wiped your hands on your sides like you weren’t sure what to do with them.

He couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or glad to see him. His features pinched tighter, and he shook off the nasty voice of mistrust that threatened to cloud his logical mind. “I’ve been asked to take Itadori with me today. Apparently, someone’s been telling the principal that I’m a good influence on him.” He took off his glasses, meeting your eyes pointedly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

You smiled sheepishly, drawing closer to him like a magnet. As you left Gojo’s side to stand beside Nanami, that sharp coil of irritation within him released. The lines in his forehead smoothed, and everything was just as it should be.

“I had nothing to do with this,” you said with a small shrug, fixing the tie that was already straight, as if looking for a reason to touch him. “What would make you think that?”

Nanami rolled his eyes at you, knowing you’d had everything to do with it, and gave you an exasperated smile.

You released his lapels shortly after to check the time and frowned when you realized how late it had gotten. “I have to go.” You pecked him on the cheek with a grin, and though Gojo was watching from behind the dark blindfold, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care. “Maki’s meeting me soon, and I don’t want to make her wait. See you later, Kento.”

He squeezed your hand, the action almost imperceptible as you waved to the other man over your shoulder. “Bye, Gojo.”

Gojo returned the action, his lips pulled together playfully as he returned his focus to Nanami. Although he’d seen the two of you together on numerous occasions, his favorite pastime was teasing the younger man about any sign of affection.

Nanami sighed, suspecting that he’d have to tolerate Gojo for the next half-hour until Itadori was back. He took a long sip of coffee that scalded his throat and sat down on the couch.

The silence lasted until Gojo crept unfortunately closer, lurking like a cat until Nanami huffed, the sign of irritation that Gojo had been waiting for. The white-haired man drew out Nanami’s name like a song, and then plopped himself down on the chair across from him, blabbering on about things that Nanami really didn’t want to listen to.

When he realized five minutes had passed without Gojo even taking a breath, he gritted his teeth, and leaned back in the chair. “I didn’t realize you were such good friends with my wife.”

That wasn’t entirely the truth. Nanami had known that you’d gotten closer to Gojo since you’d started working for the school part-time, but you talked about him about as often as you talked about your other colleagues. About as much as Nanami talked about Gojo.

You’d never made it seem like he was the type of person you swapped secrets with in the lounge while everyone else was off on a break.

“Really?” Gojo drew out the word dramatically, his mouth curling into a pout. “I’d say we’re good friends, actually.” He tipped his head back, leaning against the chair with uncharacteristic seriousness. “We mostly talk about you, though. I know you better than I know her.”

“That’s a shame.” Nanami flipped the page, finishing the last bit of his coffee, and feigned irritation, even if he was warmed by the thought of you talking about him so much. “She’s much more interesting than me.”

Gojo laughed, and it seemed to be genuine. Nanami began to grow frightened that he might actually be roped into an actual, amicable conversation with the man.

“Aww,” he cooed sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Nanamin. I know you’re probably worried we’ll become better friends, but you were my friend first.”

Nanami glanced up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Trust me, I’m really not worried about that.” He kicked his leg out, the beginnings of a headache forming in his temple. “I’m more concerned that she’ll invite you over for dinner. I’d like to refrain from any interactions with you outside of work.”

Gojo made a face and then whined dramatically. “You’re so mean to me.” He wiped a hand over his eyes like he was shedding tears.

Nanami sighed.

A few days later, when he took Itadori out for another training session, he began asking Nanami too many questions about his personal life. That fact wasn’t as suspicious as it was frustrating. He couldn’t help that Itadori was curious, but he could’ve asked him these things on the ride over, or while they were at the school.

Invasive questions in the middle of a potential life or death situation were not exactly ones Nanami wanted to tolerate.

“So… what kind of places do you like to shop?”

The question was completely unrelated to his lesson and completely out of the blue. Nanami stopped, eyeing the teenager with undisguised skepticism. “Itadori. I’m not answering that kind of question when we’re in the middle of something serious.” He thought about his words, and quickly rephrased them. “Actually, I’m not answering that question at all.”

Itadori stared back, his face falling theatrically. Nanami could’ve guessed from that expression alone that he’d been spending far too much time with Gojo. “Fine.” He relented, drawing out the word as he scurried to catch up with Nanami, who was already paces ahead.

He let a few minutes pass before his next question.

“Where are your favorite places to eat?”

Nanami closed his eyes to regain his patience. “I’m not answering that either.”

A huff of disappointment. “Well, can I ask about your favorite—”

“No.”

Itadori’s glower turned into something more like a realistic frowny face. Nanami tried to refrain from snapping at him in order to regain his focus. “What can I ask?”

“Anything that you will gain valuable insight from.” Itadori opened his mouth, and Nanami quickly sensed his next words. “Insight that isn’t about me.”

He deflated once more. “Okay, fine.” For a few more moments, he surrendered, letting the conversation stall. Nanami should’ve known better than to expect peace and quiet for long. “So… what days will you be going on assignments? Do you have like… a set schedule, or do you usually get called in?”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, hearing the creak of a floorboard upstairs. There were curses nearby, and if Itadori continued yammering on without paying attention, that would spell a lot of trouble for him and the kid. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I’m just curious.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you now isn’t the time.”

Itadori opened his mouth, but then seemed to register the sound of cursed spirits, and he finally sobered his attention. His expression changed to one of seriousness, and, thankfully, he let the topic go.

After a particularly stressful mission, Nanami went to the bakery that the two of you frequented, the one that had been the site of many of your dates throughout the years.

It was a quiet little café at the edge of the city, a perfect middle-ground between your home and the school. When he’d been working in the office, and you were still a sorcerer, you’d met him there on numerous occasions, usually bruised and battered, but never without a beautiful smile.

He stretched his back behind him as he headed through the door, his clothes dirtied from fighting and his hair in disarray. It was barely afternoon, and he was already exhausted, wanting just to go home and curl in bed to await your return.

It was a small daydream that would carry him through his last few hours of working, so long as no cursed spirits popped up in his vicinity of patrolling. There seemed to be more and more lately, and if he wasn’t being called off to go fight, then you were, leaving no time for either of you to be with each other.

As he crossed the threshold, another man was exiting, seemingly in a big hurry and carrying a coffee that he almost splashed all over Nanami’s chest.

Reeling in his irritation, Nanami began a polite, “Excuse me,” before realizing who had nearly trampled over him. “Gojo. What are you doing here.”

“What a coincidence seeing you here,” Gojo greeted with a wide grin, like he wasn’t the one infiltrating one of Nanami’s sacred, headache-free spaces.

Nanami cringed, looking at the coffee in Gojo’s hand and the white pastry bag, immediately recognizing the contents. It was your favorite drink, the dessert you got once a week; you’d been ordering the same thing for the past two months, always getting hooked on new things before you eventually tired of them. He knew the order by heart.

“Sorry, I really wish I could stay and chat, but I’ve got important goods to deliver.” He held up the bag and the cup, a receipt folded up between his fingers. Bitterly, Nanami noticed he hadn’t bought anything for himself. For someone with such a sweet tooth, it seemed hard to believe that he’d refrained from indulging.

Which, Nanami concluded with annoyance, meant that he’d come specifically for you. He checked his watch, pushing away the negative emotions. Even though you could’ve called him if you wanted something, like you always did, you’d asked Gojo instead. “She’s not on a break?”

“Some students wanted her help with some things. I told her I didn’t mind getting her something if she wanted to take a break later this afternoon.” Gojo flattened his blindfold over his eyes, the material bunching up around his nose. “Everyone’s out today, anyway.”

“I see,” Nanami said, hating the unnecessary sting in his chest. You knew he’d been working, and even though he told you where he was going, you probably hadn’t seen the message. If you were busy, then he couldn’t expect you to be checking your phone. “Well, tell her I said hello, then.”

“Will do,” Gojo saluted cartoonishly and flitted out the door, smiling with a kind of glee that Nanami, stupidly, wanted to wipe off his face.

Those separate incidents with Gojo had annoyed him, of course, but he knew they weren’t anything to get worked up about. In fact, he’d almost forgotten about the interactions entirely, until another week passed and Nanami slowly started to wonder if you spent more time with the white-haired man than the one you were in a relationship with.

You’d woken up before him that morning, and Nanami opened his eyes to a colder bed and the sound of hushed music softly playing from behind the bathroom door.

It was a cooler day for June. You’d opened the window, and there were dark clouds gathering in the sky, a sign that it was going to storm any time now. He stretched his stiff back, padding to the hallway, where he could see the light coming from the bathroom, the door cracked open. The smell of your perfume wafted through, and Nanami had half a sense to drag you back to the bed and keep you there until the weekend was over.

He pushed the door open further, leaning against the threshold to watch you swipe pink gloss over your puckered lips. Your makeup was freshly powdered, your hair done up in its usual manner.

Nanami smiled, leaning against the door frame as he watched you finish getting ready. “Where are you going this morning, pretty girl?”

You blinked at him through the mirror, putting the tube of lip gloss back in the bag before turning to him with a smile. You looked so sweet, and he yearned for you, almost in disbelief that you’d been together for so long. “I’m taking the kids shopping in the city with Gojo today.” You wrapped your arms around his stomach, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I’ll be home before dinner. Want me to cook tonight?”

Nanami brushed your cheek, feeling that annoying wave of irritation return to claw at him. He didn’t care that you were spending time with Gojo—he shouldn’t care. Your students would be there too, and you’d been happier ever since you started working at the school. The first and second years cared about you so much already, and Gojo was a much less annoying friend to you than he was to Nanami.

He liked seeing you so happy, despite the toll that the job often took on you. “Don’t worry about it. We need to pick up groceries, anyway. I’ll do that while you’re out.”

Your smile widened, and you leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. Although you’d meant for it to be quick, Nanami had wrapped an arm around your lower back, pressing you closer, deepening the kiss. He ruined your lipstick, smearing it all over his mouth, but he didn’t care.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered against your mouth, holding you close to him.

“I’m still in my pajamas.” You laughed, your cheeks growing warm as you drew away from him, teasingly dodging his final kiss. “Are you sure you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll probably miss you too much.” As you fixed your lipstick, Nanami went back to the bedroom, rifling through his coat pocket for his wallet. He tossed the gold card on the bathroom counter, where your purse was laying.

You eyed him over your shoulder. “No.”

He stared back, just as seriously. “Yes. Buy yourself something nice, sweetheart.” He thought of the young teenager he’d been mentoring, who’d been putting in his best effort, and who he’d, unfortunately, come to care about quite a lot. “Itadori too. Just don’t tell him it’s from me.”

You blinked, before your expression changed into something so bright, Nanami would’ve done everything in his power to keep it there. “I knew you liked him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With an affection so full that it threatened to burst out of your chest, you jumped towards him, wrapping yourself up in his arms. He kissed your temple and breathed, remembering just how much he didn’t want to lose you.

You were true to your word, always. You came back when you promised, you told him where you were going, but Nanami noticed that you’d been even more secretive since you went shopping with Gojo and your students. When he asked your plans, you were even more vague. When you didn’t return with any shopping bags, he found it odd that you smelled of a cologne he didn’t wear.

He reminded himself of how much he trusted you—he really, really didn’t think you would lie to him, but he couldn’t deny that your behavior was confusing him.

Nanami finished off his tea, eyes across the room as he watched you type wildly on your phone, your brows crinkled. You sent a message then waited for a response, impatiently pacing across the kitchen.

He called your name, but you didn’t respond, too enraptured in whatever it was that you were doing. You seemed to be attached to your cell phone these days, always having a call to respond to, and always jumping when he was a little too close to seeing your messages.

Yesterday, Gojo’s name had popped up on your screen with a message, and you’d crawled across Nanami’s lap to get the phone before he could even think to hand it to you. Nanami had done nothing but stare back at you, and you’d smiled at him, embarrassed, still hiding the screen from him as you read the message.

He really, really didn’t want to jump to conclusions. But these days, you were spending all your free time with Gojo, and you grew defensive every time he tried to bring it up.

“Are you done with the tea?” Nanami asked again, piling up the dirty dishes from where he sat, noticing your cup was still half-full, but lukewarm.

You chewed your thumbnail anxiously, bouncing your leg as you waited for the person on the other end to reply. The phone shook in your hands, and you read through it again, obviously disappointed by the short response. He could’ve guessed who you were talking to, even if he didn’t want to.

Nanami frowned and called your name one more time. Finally, you looked up.

“What?” you asked, and then came to understand his question. The tea sat, unenjoyed, and shame marred your features. “Oh. I’m sorry. No, I’m not finished.” You frowned, tucking the phone back into your pocket before rushing over to your seat. “I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off, and Nanami stared, waiting for you to finish your explanation, even though you let it die there. “It’s been busy at work.”

Nanami hated how easily he could tell you were lying. He sighed, rubbing his temples as your phone rang again. This time, though, you kept it in your pocket.

It had been like that for the past couple of days. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with any possible explanation other than the most distressing one.

“Kento?” you asked in a small voice, noting his obvious discontent. “Is everything alright?”

He looked up at you, your eyes so wide and full of concern, and even if he wanted to be mad at you, he couldn’t. His chin fell, arms resting limply at his sides as you looked back at him, waiting for a response. “Is everything alright with you?”

“I’m okay,” you said, shifting where you stood. “Just busy. Like I said.”

The two of you stared at each other, waiting for the other to say what they really wanted to. Never once in your life had you had a problem with communicating, but it felt like now, you were hitting a wall.

All he could do was try his best. If you didn’t want to answer him, he couldn’t make you.

“Okay,” he said, taking your hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and kissed your palm, then the inside of your wrist, before massaging the center of it. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to keep secrets from me. If anything…” he steadied himself for his next words. “If anything changes between us, you can tell me. I’ll understand.”

Your eyebrows creased, before understanding seemed to dawn upon you. “Kento,” you said, dropping his hand to come around the table to climb into his lap, placing your hands on both of his cheeks. “Kento, no.”

“You’ve just been a bit—”

“I’m sorry,” you said, and he couldn’t help but draw back into you, smile when you kissed him all over his face, pressing the affirmations into his skin. “I’m not trying to be distant, really. Things are just busy right now, I promise.” You curled your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp, and Nanami brought his arms around your hips, settling you on his thighs.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” His eyes softened at your frown, and he brushed his thumb under your shirt, grounding himself against your skin. “I love you.”

That put a smile back on your face, and you kissed him, whispering the same words against his lips.

Now, though he wasn’t so sure he believed what you were saying, as much as he wanted to. Maybe you were just busy at work, but you were certainly hiding something from him.

He knew that everyone had their secrets, but maybe it would’ve stung less if you’d just admitted you were hiding something from him.

The following week was the same routine, and as the workdays ended, Nanami saw you less and less each evening. You spent the majority of your time in the city center, and though you were often with your students, you were also with Gojo, and something about that fact was difficult to swallow.

Nanami felt a little sour that you never asked him to go too. He began to wonder if you were purposefully avoiding him, or if the students disliked him as much as he’d thought they did.

It was stupid, he knew it was stupid, and he didn’t want to be overbearing, to seem like he was the kind of man who wanted to control where you were going and spending your time with. He just wished you spared a little bit more of it for him, was all.

He woke with that thought in his mind as he rolled over on the cold bed, reaching out to wrap his arms around you. When he realized the spot beside him was empty, he blinked himself awake wearily, adjusting his eyes to the dark.

The hall light was on, a yellow glow peeking through the cracks under the door, and he frowned as he heard the sound of your voice, low and hushed.

Nanami weighed his decision. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and though you often went to bed much later than him, a phone call at this time was pushing it. He climbed out of the bed, padding quietly over the door to see if he could catch a part of the conversation.

It felt like a breach of trust, and he didn’t want to seem like he was spying on you.

He pressed his ear to the door, waiting for your voice, though it was silent. Half a minute passed. His hands curled around the knob, and he shouldn’t be trying to listen in, he should just go out there and ask you if anything was wrong, and then—

“Gojo, I don’t know what to tell him.”

Nanami stopped, swallowing down his breath to still all noises from his body. He squeezed his fist tighter until his knuckles had gone pale, hearing you murmur under your breath. There were a lot of words he couldn’t catch, and he wrinkled his forehead, trying to catch a hint of context in what you were saying.

“I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out—”

Your voice dropped quiet again.

Nanami felt something fall in his chest as he released the doorknob. He was too tired to think about it rationally, and if he listened anymore, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He stepped away from the door, his lips etched permanently into a frown.

After Kento had fallen asleep, you’d grabbed your phone off the nightstand, going through the to-do list that you’d created for his birthday.

You hadn’t meant for it to get so out-of-hand. He didn’t usually like big celebrations, and he’d never made a big deal of his birthday in the past. Though in your eyes, that was exactly why you needed to do something different for him this year.

Things had been going so well, and from what you could tell, everyone in your close circle cared about him more than he realized. It was the only way you could think to show that to him.

You’d just wanted to do something special for him, and it had turned into long shopping trips with Satoru Gojo, and secretive meetings with your students to make sure everything went exactly as you’d planned it.

And things were going according to plan… Only, you were starting to feel like your attempts at secrecy were sabotaging your relationship, and you feared that Kento thought the worst of your late nights out and your newly formed friendship with Gojo.

It was obvious that you were lying, and every time he brought it up, he seemed to become even more doubtful of your actions.

You flipped the hallway light on, dialing Gojo’s number, feeling antsy in your own skin. After two rings, he answered, his voice groggy and obviously full of sleep.

“Hello?”

“Gojo,” you said in a panic, rubbing your hand over your face with a kind of distress that he couldn’t even see. “I don’t know what to tell him.”

A beat of silence as he gathered his thoughts. “What?”

You almost felt bad for waking him up, but part of this was his fault. He’d been insistent on being a part of the plan, and now, he needed to listen to your apprehensions about the entire situation. He hadn’t exactly been sneaky either.

“Kento.” you said, pacing back and forth in the hallway, your voice rising to a high-pitched shriek, even as you tried to muffle your words. “He’s been asking me so many questions, and I’m so bad at coming up with answers. I’m seeming like a horrible person.”

Gojo hummed on the other line, and you hated how nonchalant he seemed about all of this. This was your relationship, and he was just sitting happily in his home, with the receipt for a cake that had cost way too much, and gifts for a man that had started to doubt you even cared about him at all. “Well…”

“Gojo,” you said his name again, sternly.

“Sorry.” He sighed. “Nanami’s a tough person to keep a secret from. Just keep telling him what you’ve been telling him: we’ve been assigned to more cases together, work is too busy, et cetera, et cetera. That’s fine.”

“But he knows that’s not true.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, frustration prickling at you. Either Kento was much too perceptive for his own good, or you were just awful at planning surprises. “I’m being too suspicious. I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out, then all the secrecy would have been for nothing.”

Gojo was silent on the other end of the other line. It seemed he was absolutely horrible at consoling you, unlike the man in the other room who was sleeping soundly, unbeknownst to the fact that you were doing this all for him. “Look, it’s only for a couple more days, right? You can keep the secret until then, can’t you?”

You swallowed, steeling yourself for one last week of misery. You weren’t sure you could continue to stand the look of disappointment on Kento’s face every time you did something out of character. “I guess so. Thanks.” You yawned, rubbing your eyes. “Sorry, I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it. Goodnight.” He hung up, and you stared at the phone once more, trudging back into the other room.

You couldn’t help the guilt that had settled deep in your gut. Even if you were lying to Kento for something special, you knew how it looked on your end. You weren’t good at dispelling his accusations; every time you opened your mouth, you just incriminated yourself more.

You couldn’t wait until his birthday. Things would go back to normal, then, and he could finally see that everyone cared about him more deeply than he realized.

Rubbing your eyes with exhaustion, you crawled back into the space where you always slept. Although, this time, you realized Kento was not asleep like you’d left him but was blinking back at you with concern in his dark eyes.

You jumped, startled for a moment, before settling back down. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“It’s okay.” He grasped your hand tightly, and you let him, let him drag you close in his arms as he curled around you. “Is something wrong?”

You tensed, and immediately realized that was a mistake. Fuck. You were so horrible at this. You should’ve just let Gojo and Itadori plan the entire thing, and maybe it would’ve been a disaster, but it also would’ve saved you a lot of unnecessary anxiety. “Everything’s fine.”

That didn’t exactly answer his question. Nanami turned on his side, the two of you staring face to face on the pillows. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows, his eyes darting to each one of yours like he was trying to decipher a message. Then, he sighed. “Was… someone calling?”

“Just Gojo.”

“Gojo?” Nanami repeated, and though he seemed annoyed at the mention of him, at least he knew you were being honest about that. “Why the hell is Gojo calling you in the middle of the night?”

You blinked, realizing you actually had no good lie to cover that one. “Umm…” you played with Nanami’s hand, tracing the tendons and knuckles as he stared back at you patiently. “He wanted to know if I could cover for him in the morning. He’s… not feeling so well.”

You’d have to text him immediately so that he didn’t come to the school until later. Not that he would mind skipping out on a few hours of work, but even that didn’t seem to convince Kento. He opened his mouth, and shut it, as if trying to carefully put his words together. “That’s all?”

He said it in a way that made you think he was giving you an opening, like you had the option to tell him the truth if you wanted. Of course, you couldn’t reveal what you were hiding, but he didn’t know that.

You sighed, and smiled, kissing him as you curled your hands into his hair. “That’s all, Ken. I really am sorry I woke you up.”

Nanami stared back at you for a moment before forcing a smile, returning your kiss with all his fondness. He brushed your hair away from your face and kissed your cheeks before closing his eyes once more.

When the day of Nanami’s birthday arrived, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t panic if everything wasn’t perfect. He’d appreciate the sentiment, no matter what. Things didn’t have to go by the book for them to be meaningful.

Regardless, you went through your mental to-do sheet, made the final reservation for your dinner, and prayed that everything went as you intended.

Though you were usually not a morning person, you’d gotten up earlier than Kento to fix his coffee the way he always preferred, taking a quiet moment to still your excited nerves. When his usual alarm went off, at the same time every morning, you carried the mug back with you to the bedroom and smiled softly at his sleepy form.

You set the coffee down before he could fully gain consciousness, and sprang on top of him, peppering kisses all over his face until his surprise slowly melted, and he was hugging you tightly.

“Happy birthday.”

Kento smiled up at you groggily, his eyes still drooping with sleep as he curled a hand around your jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, hugging you tight as he whispered, “thank you,” the touch of the words barely there at all.

You relaxed in his presence, sitting back as you handed him the coffee, to which his expression grew even more gentle. He brushed your hair out of your face and kissed you again on the forehead, making you melt, just as he always did.

“What do you want to do today?” you asked as you laid on his chest, staring up at him with every ounce of love you had to offer. “I have dinner reservations, but you’ve got all day until then.”

Nanami laughed, curling a strand of your hair around his finger. “It doesn’t matter. We can just spend it like any normal day.”

You frowned. “That’s not anything special. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s just a birthday.” He squeezed your arm before maneuvering you gently off of him so that he could sit up on the bed. “Besides, every moment I spend with you is special. I’m happy to just sit around and do nothing until dinner.” Kento seemed to notice your displeased expression, even though your heart had swelled at his comment. “Unless there was something you wanted to do instead…”

He climbed out of the bed, taking one sip of the steaming coffee before setting it back down.

“It’s not my birthday.” You watched him gather his clothes up off the floor with a sigh, the muscles in his back clenching as he bent over. “I want to do what you want to do.”

“And I told you I didn’t care.” He smiled playfully at you, tugging his shirt on over his head. Then, he reached over and squeezed your hand, coming back to where you sat, your legs swung over the side of the mattress.

“Kento.” You pulled him back down with a pointed expression, your faces close, lips almost touching. “I’m serious.”

He stared back at you for a moment, before relenting. “Alright.” Kento bent down, kissing you once more before going into the bathroom. “Let me shower, and we’ll go get some breakfast. How does that sound?”

“Is that what you want to do?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

Although you could tell he was amused by your insistence, he softened, his eyes melting into hearts as he turned. “That’s what I want to do. Happy?”

“Very.” You shoved him away, laughing. “Go take a shower. You’re not getting any younger.”

He rolled his eyes and retreated into the bathroom, the door shutting softly behind him.

When the water started running and Kento was definitely in the shower, you hurriedly dialed Gojo’s number, begging him to pick up. After the third dial, when you were certain he wouldn’t answer, a short tone cut through the line.

“What’s wrong?” he answered, clearly amused. There was shuffling on the other end, and some sort of yelp. Your brows pinched together.

As you listened closely to make sure the shower water wouldn’t turn off unexpectedly, you frowned. Your leg shook with anticipation. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Gojo released a breath, though his voice grew mumbled on the other end. “Well, you normally only call me if you’re panicking about the birthday situation, so—”

There was a scream. You dragged your hand down your face, as he said something sharply to someone on the other side of the call.

“Gojo?”

“Yeah?” Another sound, this one of extreme pain. “Sorry, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re exorcising a curse right now.”

He paused, and then the sound stopped, everything going silent on his side. “Well… I’m not anymore.”

You wanted to say that you were shocked he’d bothered to pick up the phone at all, but… You weren’t, really. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Unfortunately, cursed spirits don’t know it’s Nanamin’s birthday, so they just keep coming.” He sighed. “What a bummer. If they were nicer, I’d invite them to the birthday party.”

You snorted. “Right. I’m certain Kento would love that.”

Gojo laughed. “So, what were you calling about? If it’s to panic over your much too long list of things for me to do, don’t worry. Everything’s in order.”

“Really? Did you wrap the presents?”

He hummed. “Megumi did.”

You closed your eyes, holding back a sigh. That was probably for the best, anyway. You’d never seen Gojo wrap a gift, but you weren’t sure how it’d look if he did. “Okay… What about the decorations?”

“Itadori is bringing those over once you two leave.”

A part of you wanted to get frustrated with him for doing absolutely nothing, but it wasn’t his fault he had to work, even if he’d promised to help you out. At least he was delegating the tasks. One way or another, it would get done. “Are you going to help him at all?”

“Have a little bit more faith in me than that. You’re hurting my feelings.”

“No I’m not. Did you get him a birthday card?”

“I think Maki offered to do that. And before you ask your next question, yes everyone’s going to be there on time. Kugisaki followed up with everyone.”

“Oh my god… Did you do anything, Satoru?”

“I picked up the cake.” A beat of silence. “Well, I haven’t yet. I’m going right now. I got a little side-tracked.”

He’d given you no reason to doubt him, really. But you were still afraid that something would go wrong, and you’d be left without a cake, in the middle of a very important birthday. “Fine, but just know that I’m texting Megumi in an hour to come check on you. I can only keep Kento out of the house for so long, so you need to make sure it’s perfect.”

“You got it, boss. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

Once you’d sent Gojo the final list of things that needed to be done, you put your phone away, promising yourself that it would not be a point of stress while you were at dinner with Nanami. You’d reserved a table at his favorite restaurant and dressed up nicer than you had in a while.

After breakfast, the two of you meandered around the city for the rest of the day until your reservation, as you tried to think of anything that could keep him away from home. Worried that he would catch on, you continued to diffuse his concerns, kissing him with a smile as you pulled him along to the next place you could think of.

And though he’d protested, saying that you didn’t have to dedicate your entire day to him, you couldn’t think of another way that you’d want to be spending it.

When the evening started to fall, you made your way to the restaurant, and the phone buzzed in your bag. You gritted your teeth and ignored it.

“Are you sure we don’t need to go home?” Kento asked you, swinging your hand in his between the two of you. Neither of you had ever been big on public displays of affection, but holding hands through the streets was one of the nicest feelings you’d come to experience. “We have time.”

“No,” you said a little too quickly, and he eyed you curiously, almost stopping in his tracks. “We better get there early, just in case. Don’t you think?”

Kento raised an eyebrow, but then nodded, squeezing your hand. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be early.” He smiled, humming to himself happily. “You know, you didn’t have to do all of this for me today.”

“I wanted to. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” You laughed, but for some reason, there was uncertainty behind his eyes. You felt the phone buzzing more and more in your pocket.

The restaurant was packed, and even though you were early to your reservation, they got you seated immediately.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. Did I already tell you that?” Nanami said once you were seated.

You flushed, your cheeks growing warm as he stared at you across the table with gentle, brown eyes. “Thanks, Kento,” you said in a quiet voice, knowing that you’d looked much better earlier, when your hair had been perfect, and your makeup hadn’t smudged. Your dress now had some wrinkles, and you were sweating with nerves and the heat outside.

He glanced down at the menu, perusing it, even though he got the same thing every time. You ordered a bottle of wine to split between the two of you.

The server brought the alcohol back and poured it, then took your order back to the kitchen. When Nanami ordered, you dropped your chin in your hands, watching him, distracted by the very sight of him.

He nodded at the younger girl politely, and she grew pink, scurrying off to the next room. Kento looked back at you as you laughed and started up another conversation. You talked about school and work and everything in between, the mood only shattering when you felt the incessant buzz of the phone in your pocket.

You were in the middle of a story, but your sentences started to blend together into something that didn’t make sense. You stumbled over what you were saying, feeling the weight of the phone in your pocket as you tried to refocus on your words, but remained distracted.

The phone buzzed again in your pocket. You gritted your teeth. Fucking Gojo Satoru and his idiotic brain—you’d told him not to contact you.

“Is everything alright?” Kento blinked as you took your phone out and set it in your purse.

“I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”

He hesitated, thoughtful as he swallowed a sip of wine. “Well, I don’t want you to get in any trouble if it’s work.”

“I took off today. If they can’t handle two sorcerers being gone, then they’ve got bigger problems.”

Nanami sighed, drumming his fingers against the table. “I guess that’s true. Speaking of work, I—"

The phone buzzed louder, then there was a pause. It buzzed again. You cringed.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, but—”

The phone started ringing.

You were close to throwing the bag altogether, and probably would’ve, if it hadn’t been one of the most expensive accessories you owned. Nanami looked down at the bag, then back at you, eyebrows raised.

“Honey…” he said, eyes gesturing to the phone. “Just answer it.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, and you dug your phone out of the bag, Megumi Fushiguro’s name was bold as it lit up on the screen. You held it tightly in your hand and began to stand, feeling sick and horrible and wondering if all the secrecy had just ruined his birthday. “I’m so sorry Kento—"

He shrugged; his voice was solid with gentle patience. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

You nodded, and waited until you were out of earshot to answer the phone, feeling horrible about leaving him all by himself. Once you were in the bathroom, locked in one of the stalls, you answered. “Hello?”

“Itadori dropped the cake.”

You took a breath before answering Megumi’s calm remark, wondering how close you actually were to snapping. “What.”

In the background, the pink-haired boy wailed over and over, loud cries that were, clearly, full of remorse. “It was an accident!” He shouted over Kugisaki’s berating, and you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, because that was the last thing you’d expected to happen.

“Itadori dropped the cake,” Megumi repeated, flatly, like you hadn’t gotten it the first time. “It’s all over the floor. Kugisaki’s trying to get him to clean it up, but it’s just making him even more miserable.”

You covered a hand over your mouth, wondering why your eyes were welling up with frustrated tears. Things were not going the way you’d planned. “Is Gojo there yet?”

“Yeah.” Megumi hesitated, and there was a pause, like he was unsure what to do now that he finally had you on the phone. “Want me to put him on?”

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see you, and muttered, “yes.” Within a moment, the older man, currently in charge of three teenagers, was on the line.

“This may or may not be Gojo,” he said, and you were glad that he at least had enough intelligence to sound nervous.

“Satoru.” You tried hard not to panic. “Please, please can you try and find another cake? I know it’s late, but I’m not sure how much longer I can stall here. I’m trying so hard not to be suspicious, but I’m horrible at it.”

“I can try, but—"

“Kento already thinks I’m acting weird, and he keeps asking me questions that I’m doing a very bad job of answering. I feel awful because it’s his birthday, and I’m afraid he thinks I’m just getting ready to split up with him or something.”

“Ouch.” Gojo said dramatically, hissing like he’d been stung. “That’d be a bit of an asshole move, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, I’m obviously not going to do that!” You scrubbed your hands over your face. “He seemed upset today, and I just don’t want all of this to go to waste. Please, Satoru. It doesn’t matter what the cake looks like, but just make sure that you get something, so that—"

“Hey,” he said, dropping the theatrics when you choked back a sob. His tone grew serious. “Take a deep breath. I think you’re forgetting who we’re dealing with here.”

“What do you mean?” You blinked, dabbing your eyes, hoping that your mascara wouldn’t smear.

“Nanami is going to appreciate the gestures, even if they aren’t perfect.”

You inhaled and exhaled, realizing that Satoru was right. Out there was a man that you loved very much, who loved you in return, and this was not as serious as you were making it out to be. “You’re right.”

“Obviously. Enjoy your dinner. I can take care of it.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like a warzone in the background.”

“Everything’s fine,” Gojo swore, even if you didn’t entirely believe him. “I told Megumi not to call you, but he loves getting me in trouble. Please, don’t worry about it.”

You opened your mouth, but Gojo had already hung up.

As you left the stall, you sighed, seeing yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red with unshed tears, but you’d already made Kento wait long enough.

Twitching nervously, you headed back to the table. Nanami was sitting patiently, scrolling through something mindlessly on his phone.

“Everything okay?” he asked as you sat back down, noticing the signs of tears and misery. He reached for you across the table, but then thought better of it, and just frowned.

“Everything’s fine. I’m just really sorry, Kento.” You looked down at your hands. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s your birthday. I want you to enjoy it.”

A beat of silence passed. He smiled. “I am enjoying it.” He did reach for your hand, then, and pulled it tight against his own. “This has been the best birthday, sweetheart. Why are you upset?”

You swallowed. “I’m not upset.” You shook your head, trying to clear the unhappiness from your expression. “Anyways, what were you saying? I interrupted.”

Nanami’s face fell. You’d changed the subject so quickly; he hadn’t had the chance to ask you any more questions. “Right. Well, nothing important. I just have to be in Kyoto next week.”

You frowned. “All week?”

He nodded. “I wanted to let you know in case you wanted to make plans. You’ve been...” he paused, thinking over his words. “Seeing Gojo a lot lately, so I thought you might want to—”

You stared at him, and realized what he was getting at. Fuck, you felt so horrible. “Oh,” you said, scratching your wrist under the table. “Yeah. Maybe. I’m sure he’ll be busy too.”

That wasn’t the answer Nanami was looking for. He stopped, and then regrouped, nodding. “Well, either way, I wanted you to know. They didn’t give me advanced notice.”

You smiled tightly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s only for a few days,” he said, releasing your hand to place it back onto his lap. “But I’m going to miss you too.” There was something distant in his voice when he said it.

On the way home from the restaurant, Gojo texted you obnoxiously, sending you pictures of the house, the cleanliness of it, the set-up of the gifts, the new cake, and you smiled to yourself, somewhat relieved that things weren’t a complete disaster.

You could feel Kento’s eyes on you as he drove home, his hand resting on your thigh as you turned slightly away from him, keeping his eyes off the screen.

Stop sending me things before he sees my phone.

Gojo’s response was much too quick.

Stop looking at your phone.

You sighed, clicking the screen off and finally relaxing against the window. The secrecy was almost over; you hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to keep this all hidden without causing so much dramatic suspicion.

Nanami pulled into park in front of your home, squeezing your leg gently before releasing it. You expected him to make a move to get out of the car, but instead he sat, contemplative, the key still in the ignition.

You swallowed, looking at him. “Is everything okay?”

He took a breath, turning back to you with some sort of determination in his eyes. “Have I done something to upset you?” he asked, his voice so incredibly gentle.

“What?” you said, laughing nervously. “Why would you ask that?”

His face fell as he looked back at the steering wheel. “I just thought this would be easier if I’d hurt you in some way.”

Your mouth grew dry. You reached for him. “Kento—”

“Look,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair, the strands coming loose, falling onto his forehead. “I’m not trying to… I don’t want to…” His words fell off, and though you knew what he was trying to say, you didn’t want him to say it, because there was no reason for it. “If something’s wrong, I just want to know. Let’s at least try to fix it.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise.” You squeezed his hand, trying to pull away from him. “Can we talk about this inside?” You started to get out of the car.

“No, wait.” He stopped you again, eyes wide with disappointment, like he couldn’t get his words out fast enough. “This is what happens every time. I ask you about it, then you find a way to spin my words around so that we never talk about it. I let you every time, because I love you, and I trust you, but I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart squeezed. “Kento.” You began, feeling bad that you were forced to talk in circles just to get him to believe in your lies. “I promise, we’ll talk about it inside. It’s still your birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it by misunderstanding one another. Please, let’s talk about it once we’re both settled in.”

Nanami’s shoulders stiffened, then deflated, but he didn’t let go of you. “There’s not… Someone else, is there?”

“Of course not.” You said fervently, kissing his hand. “God, Ken. You think I’d want anyone else when I’ve got you?”

He smiled, though it was half-hearted.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll explain everything. I owe you that much.”

You led him into the house, holding his hand tightly, hoping that this went over as you intended. Beside you, he was still contemplative, flicking on the lights as you continued into your home.

“You know, I really think we should still—”

As the lights came on, his words were cut off by some variation of everyone yelling happy birthday, and he blinked back at the students he’d recently met, and all the sorcerers he’d worked with closely in the previous years. His jaw opened, then shut, then he looked at you, then back to Gojo, and you could see the understanding in his features before he’d expressed it, when everything clicked into place.

A moment of silence passed where Nanami said nothing, and then Itadori decided to fill that silence with very off-key singing, and Kento’s cheeks dusted light pink, barely visible in the light, as he squeezed your hand tighter.

Everyone made the rounds, greeting him with varying levels of enthusiasm, while Nanami just thanked them with quiet politeness, even though you could see that he was secretly pleased, his lips curling up into a smile, the signs of stress dissipating from his features.

Itadori approached with a poorly wrapped gift and a hug that Nanami didn’t quite return, but he didn’t push away, either.

Nanami took the gift, holding it with soft eyes like he’d been given something precious. “Thank you, Yuuji. This is very kind.”

“You’re welcome.” Itadori said back proudly, smiling smugly at his two friends over his shoulder, obviously proud that he’d gotten such praise. “It’s probably going to be the best gift you’ll get tonight.”

You could see Nanami trying to refrain from laughing, but he snorted instead. “Is this why you were asking me about all those things that I liked a few weeks ago?”

“Uhh…” Yuuji smiled sheepishly, rubbing a hand on his neck. “No! Not really. But… Maybe.” He sighed. “I’d thought you’d forget about that.”

Kento’s eyes crinkled at the corner, and he squeezed Itadori’s shoulder, clearly touched.

You kissed his cheek and left him alone to talk with everyone that came to visit, going to thank Gojo and the students that had helped you over the past few weeks.

An hour passed before you found Kento again, after the cake had been cut and Gojo had insisted he opened one of the many gifts he’d gotten him.

He was standing in the kitchen, staring at a pile of wrapped gifts and the sliced cake that wasn’t exactly what you’d intended, but had received the same reaction, nonetheless.

“Kento?” you said quietly, and though you could tell that he was appreciative of everyone, you still weren’t sure how the surprise had gone over. He turned to you, his sleeves rolled up, a few more strands of blond hair coming loose. His cheeks were flushed, eyes soft. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been lying—”

Kento was to you in two long strides, backing you into a wall before kissing you deeply. Your hands curled into his hair, and you hummed into his mouth with a smile as his hands rested on your hips.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered against your mouth. “I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to ridiculous conclusions.”

You laughed, kissing him again and again, feeling things finally ease back into normalcy. “I know how it looked—” He looked away, embarrassed that he’d even thought of the possibility that you would leave him for Gojo. “I’m sorry I was so suspicious.” You sighed, leaning back in his arms as you held his cheeks with both hands. “Were you surprised?”

“I wish I wasn’t. It was pretty obvious now that I think back on it.”

“But…”

“But, yes,” he said, kissing your forehead as you preened, proud that it had all pulled together in the end. “I was surprised.” He gave you one last kiss, whispering, “thank you” and “I love you” on your lips.

From behind the door, you heard shuffling, and opened your eyes to see Gojo snapping a picture, to which Nanami groaned, pushing himself away from you reluctantly.

Gojo grinned, “Sorry. I’ll let myself out. Didn’t realize you two lovebirds were in here,” he said, even though he most certainly did.

“Please do,” Nanami gestured in the direction of the front door. “I hate the fact that you even know where I live.”

Gojo’s face fell. “After everything I did for your birthday, and you’re still going to pretend you don’t like me?”

“I don’t.” Nanami sighed, before swallowing down whatever antagonist words he really wanted to say. “But thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

Gojo beamed—you intervened before he could even think to throw his arms around Kento.

1K notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 4 months

Note

hello love, ive been reading your writing recently and i love how you write the players personalities exactly as i imagine them to be!!

ive had an idea that i think you would write perfectly, of alessia adopting a puppy, but as lessi is so clumsy and forgetful, she accidentally leaves out a big bag of crisps and her ‘demon puppy’ as she would call it, eats the whole bag

lessi freaks out and takes it to the nearest vet (aka us) before training and is basically being being a flustered and blushing mess, when she gets to training people pick up on her still tinted cheeks and manage to trick her into gushing about the ‘cute vet’ she met that morning

it could end with lessi returning to awkwardly asking us on a date

thankyou love 🤍

four legged wingwoman II a.russo

"-no you cannot come over for dinner again!" alessia rolled her eyes, pacing around her room with her phone squished in between her shoulder and her ear. "and why not!" vic gasped in offence on the other end of the line.

"because if its not you its one of the other girls. i've had a rotating door of dinner guests almost every single night since i got willow and i want time with my puppy alone!" alessia laughed, her team mates adoring her ten week old puppy just as much as she did, which was making it difficult for her to get any one on one time with her.

"because she is so cute and most of us do not have dogs lessi, you are being selfish!" vic whined, but the blonde held firm in her decision just as she had when lia and leah had tried to invite themselves over tonight too.

"i will literally see you in an hour pavlova, goodbye!" alessia rolled her eyes at the girs insistent begging and ended the call, tossing her phone onto the bed. "now where the hell did i put it?" the striker frowned, hunting around for her spare training top with the other one in the wash.

as adorable as willow was she was the furthest thing from well behaved and was right in the peak of her naughty puppy phase.

if she wasn't chewing things up she was running around with them in her mouth and dropping them all over the house, meaning alessia could barely keep track of anything and as soon as she'd put it down it was being moved.

but the ten week old chocolate lab had the most alluring eyes she'd ever seen so of course alessia could never stay mad at willow as infuriatingly cheeky as she was.

speaking of it was suspiciously quiet as alessia dropped to her knees and sighed in relief finally tugging her training top out from under the bed, huffing at the small teeth holes in the hem of the collar.

"willow!" the blonde called out, frowning when she didn't hear the usual scattering of her nails against the floorboards as she'd bound over. "willow?" alessia called again, quickly changing into her shirt and grabbing her training bag off the bed.

"willow baby where are-" her eyes widened as she hurried into the living room. "oh no no no no!" alessia groaned, grabbing the puppy and tugging her head out of the xl bag of salt and vinegar crisps.

"shit you ate some of the bag too? willow!" alessia gasped realizing there was large bites from the foil as panic set in. "okay um, the vet! we'll go to the vets." alessia spoke to herself, hurrying about like a tornado grabbing what she needed.

"ah willow don't eat that!" alessia huffed, tugging her keychain out of the labs mouth and locking the door up behind them, clipping willow in safely in the passenger seat.

near certain she was breaking more than one road rule alessia sped to the closest vet clinic in record time, sending a hurried half legible voice message to lotte that she would be late to training and why.

grabbing willow out of the car alessia made a beeline inside, wincing as it begun to rain and she did her best to shield the small shivering dog inside her shirt.

finally inside alessia let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in seeing the clinic was almost empty. "can i help you love?" a kind looking middle aged woman asked from the front desk.

"er my puppy ate a full bag of salt and vinegar crisps and most of the bag itself." alessia admitted with flushed cheeks, the receptionist nodding and making a note. "have you been here before?" the blonde shook her head and placed willow down on the floor, tight grip on her leash as the woman handed her a clipboard instructing her to fill it out.

"come on then miss trouble." alessia mumbled, moving to a free seat and maintaining her tight cold on willows leash so she couldn't wander very far. scribbling down her details her eyes would glance to the dog every few moments who didn't seem to be feeling any discomfort.

handing the clipboard back the woman added alessia and willow into the clinic system and gestured for them to sit down, informing there was only one vet in today but it shouldn't be too long a wait.

"oh god willow no!" alessia whispered with wide eyes as the puppy relieved itself right in the middle of the waiting room. "if you've brought her here for bladder control issues im afraid thats just going to need some toilet training." alessias head whipped up at the new voice.

"this must be willow then?" you smiled with amusement, grabbing a roll of paper towel from behind the desk and dropping to your knees. "no please i can do it!" alessia hurried to take it from you though a little too eagerly as she smacked her head into the vets, both of you wincing in pain.

"oh god i am so sorry." alessia apologized with wide eyes, and if her face wasn't red with embarrassment before it must have been the colour of a tomato now.

"its alright, normally its the animals who take a chunk out of me sometimes but i guess its not bad i have a little more contact with humans." you joked, standing up and offering her a hand which she graciously accepted.

"marley do you mind?" you gestured toward the remains of urine on the floor toward the receptionist who nodded, sending alessia a reassuring smile as the girl apologised over and over, dismissing her with a wave.

following after you alessia lifted willow up onto the table as you closed the door behind the pair of you, the blonde seemingly still a little shocked at how young you seemed, you couldn't have been too dissimilar in age to her if she was to go off looks.

"so what brings you here to visit me today willow?" you smiled softly, offering the puppy a treat which she happily accepted. "um well i sort of left a bag of salt and vinegar crisps out and she got into it and ate all of them as well as most of the actual bag." alessia again winced in embarrassment.

"chewer then? they grow out of it." you laughed, scratching behind willows ears and sending alessia a smile which had her stomach flipping. "you have a dog?" alessia asked, wincing yet again at how awkward she sounded.

"i do, and she was once just like miss willow here eating everything and anything she could get her little paws on." you chuckled at the memory, moving to put on a pair of gloves. "has she seemed out of sorts since she ate it? any strange behavior or unusual bowel movements?" you questioned, gently opening willows mouth and inspecting inside as best you could.

"not really? i drove her straight here as soon as i realised." alessia rubbed the back of her neck as you hummed, whistling to gain the puppys attention and quickly checking her pupils with a small torch.

"she seems happy and healthy. did you have somewhere to be?" you asked, nodding to alessia's training kit. "oh just training but i let my team and coach know i'd be late." the striker assured as you rewarded willow with another treat.

"i'd like to keep her here for a few hours in the kennel for observation if thats alright? you're welcome to stay or if you need to go to training i promise you she'll be well looked after. if she's going to pass it or if anything seems a little out of sorts we'll know by midday." you smiled toward the girl who nodded.

"you gave your number when you filled in the patient paperwork right? if anything at all goes wrong or seems remotely off with her we'll call you right away." you assured sensing her hesitation, knowing too well how much owners cared for their pets.

"you should go, really! you'd just be sitting around here twiddling your thumbs. thursdays don't tend to be very busy which is why i'm the only one here, but we have an intern who stays in the kennels to monitor and hang out with the animals so she'll be under constant supervision and i'll check in on her regularly." you continued, willow barking a few times as alessias eyes hovered over here and she gave a nod.

"okay, i trust you."

"-she ate the bag too!?" leah asked with wide eyes, tapping the ball back to alessia who nodded with a sigh. "you gotta get her into puppy school less." the blonde grinned with a shake of her head.

"i know i know, the vet told me the same thing. they actually offer obedience classes there so she said she'd talk me through it when i pick willow up later." alessia shrugged, her phone tucked securely into her pants despite the normal rules, jonas making an exception given the circumstances.

the staff calling it for the morning everyone made their way to over to the coolers, chugging down water and cooling off before they were expected in the gym.

"which vet did you take her to?" steph asked curiously as alessia finished recounting her morning adventures to a few more of the girls. "just the clinic closest to me, green road practice?" alessia tried to remember the name.

"oh! yeah we took calvin there for his vaccinations when he was a puppy and for obedience school, they're really good there." steph nodded which helped melt some of the nerves the striker was feeling about it all.

"i just feel so stupid! imagine if it was like a block of chocolate or something she got into?" alessia groaned as they all started to head inside. "hey its like being a parent lessi, you learn on the job and the best way to learn is mistakes!" beth slung an arm around her waist and squeezed her tightly.

"yeah but-" "no buts! she's okay right? and she's in good hands at the vets yeah?"

"yeah i guess its the best place for her. the vet was actually quite young? well i assume so anyway, not that i asked. but she knew so much? to be fully qualified, again assuming she's round my age, and to know so much is really impressive. plus she was the only vet working so she has to know her stuff!" alessia was so caught up in her rambling she missed the amused knowing smiles exchanged between her teammates.

"so was she cute?" kyra grinned catching alessia off guard. "well she wasn't ugly."

"very nice less, make sure to say exactly that when you ask her out!" leah clapped her on the back with a smirk making the blondes eyes widen. "ask her out! what?"

"yeah? you've been going on and on and on about her all morning. you clearly think she's hot so tell her that." kyra shrugged in explanation as alessia scoffed and stuttered out she didn't. "stop it! leave her be." steph warned the younger australian, arm landing on alessia's shoulder.

"she can ask her out anyway she wants to." "steph!"

alessia shook her head with a frown, head swamped with the teasing words of her teammates that she'd endured all day.

trying her best to brush them off she exited the car, locking it after her and hurrying inside grateful that the rain had subsided and she would no longer look like a disheveled drowned rat.

"alessia, welcome back." marley the receptionist smiled kindly, waving for her to take a seat advising you were just with another patient and would be with her shortly.

the striker busied herself with the team groupchat which seemed to be going off nonstop as the girls argued over room arrangements for the upcoming away game.

"-and i'll see the pair of you in two months for the next round of injections." her head snapped up at your voice as you waved off an older woman and her cat, meeting her eyes with a smile.

"welcome back. how was training?" you asked, genuinely seeming interested in her answer as you hummed to show you were listening. "well i'm glad you didn't break your foot, i'm only licensed to treat animals injuries." you teased as alessia finished recounting the story of kyra dropping a dumbbell and missing her foot by about a millimeter.

"oh don't worry i basically have a tab going at the local hospital, i'm cursed to be dreadfully clumsy, always have been." alessia joked back as you lead her out back toward the kennels. "maybe we should be training willow as a service dog then." you grinned over your shoulder, shouldering open the door and waving for her to step inside.

"so she passed the bag around an hour after you left, but besides that her behavior has been completely normal and i can't see any red flags popping up. she's free to go!" you smiled, unlocking the crate where willow was as within seconds she'd sprinted out toward alessia who squatted down.

"hi baby, you been a good girl?" alessia cooed, scooping up the puppy who wiggled and whined and licked all over her face. "i'd try to break her out of that habit, i've seen a lot of dogs eat a lot of poop." you smiled apologetically as alessia paled and immediately placed her back down on the floor wiping her face.

"noted. thank you!"

alessia once again found her head swamped with the words of her friends as you happily explained how the obedience classes worked, the striker humming and nodding to show she was listening when really her head was off with the clouds.

"but of course there isn't any pressure i know theres a whole load of classes and schools, we actually have a bunch of brochures back in the waiting room so please take some and look into whatever option works best for you and willow." you smiled softly, bending down again to play with the small puppy.

some of the best advice alessia had ever been given was by her brother luca, they were incredibly close and as much as he also frustrated her to no end sometimes he had passed on a pearl or two of wisdom over the years.

one of which was that if alessia was ever dreading something to count to three and just do it, because the longer she took to do it the more she'd overthink and the opportunity 9 times out of 10 would be lost.

so now trying to keep that in mind instead of everything else the girl took a deep breath and counted to three as you stood up and brushed off your scrubs.

"look i don't normally do this but i'm trying this new thing where i don't let opportunities pass me by. would you like to grab a coffee or something sometime?" alessia asked nervously, fiddling with the leash in her hand as you looked on in surprise and the striker prepared herself for rejection.

"yeah! i'd love to."

#woso #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #engwnt #alessia russo x reader

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bas-writes · 5 months

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Out of Words

Character: Nanami Kento Reader: afab (aka reader with a vagina; ambiguous body descriptions, neutral words used regarding genitalia with an exception for word “cunt”) CW: explicit nsfw content, PWP, one shot, established relationship, plus size reader, vaginal sex Word Count: 1k Synopsis: Just Nanami asking his plus size partner to ride him. And being in awe. Based on prompt 13 from this list. A/N: The original version got deleted because I have quite...complicated relationship with this text. But encouraged by my partner I eventually decided to put it back into the wild. So, enjoy! maybe for the second time if you already saw it aklskljjhd

"Ride me."

It slips past Nanami's lips almost unwittingly, like a voice speaking straight from the depths of his subconsciousness. The rhythm breaks: the both of you are utterly confused in the best, most excited way possible, almost frozen in place for a few, heavy seconds.

He releases your wrists, suddenly realizing he held them so hard there will be bruises shaped like his fingers, then shifts his body to the side, pulling yours with himself. You squeeze thighs around his hips for leverage and balance, and he can't help letting out a little, breathy groan of appreciation. He loves the softness, the rolls forming on them flush to his body, the yet tentative moves as you're looking for the most comfortable position for your knees. It's just the beginning and he's already entranced by the feel and views.

From comfortably nestled in pillows, your legs wide open to fit his wide body in between, you're above him now, in your wonderful glory, in power and control over him. As you ease into the new situation, your weight gradually presses close to his hips until you settle on the angle you like. Nanami clenches teeth, an inch away from successfully catching a moan; he's much deeper in your now, squeezed tight by your slick, hot walls, and sentenced to obediently awaiting your moves.

The fear of accidentally hurting you, prior stirred by your wrists, fades now. He grabs your hips with all he's got for your—not to hurry you up nor to pull you closer, but to feel you, to sink his fingers into your softness and to feed his eyes with the dip of your silhouette around them.

You shift on him for the last time, balance grabbed and checked, and lean slightly to the back, your eyes closed as you sink into the sensation. You start slowly, almost too slow for the both of you, either shy or testing the new waters. Nanami holds his breath back, irrationally worried a draft of air might interrupt you; his nails scratch deep at your skin, vertical lines right next to your stretch marks. He's going to kiss them with care later, insatiably sipping on your warmth, but now nothing can peel his attention away from desiring you. He's addicted to the sway of your hips, to the bouncing rhythm you soon pick up, to the flow of your body on top of him.

Nanami can't possibly grow tired of the sight of you in your naked glory. Since the day he's been graced with it for the first time he only grows more and more hungry. He loves every inch of it, whether you love it yourself or not, and usually doesn't shy from praising and adoring it—but now, with you bouncing on his cock, something keeps his words in check. Everything he feels like saying seems inappropriate, too simple and too vulgar. All he can do is to stare, eyes wide open in wonder, lips heavy of breath, and hands full of your curves. He lets them wander at times, to knead your ass or to support you at the waist, but every time the sensation grows too strong to handle, and he returns to your hips in hurry. It can't end like this, not now, when he's still starved, when he knows you can still show him more.

A rumble of your name follows an especially bold move of yours, and Nanami claws at your thighs with desperation. You've caught him off-guard this time, with his hands out of control when you suddenly clenched hard on him, squeezing him deep in your hot slick. He has to close eyes, to spare himself at least the delicious views, but the feeling is right there—your tight cunt, your big and soft ass, your thighs tensing under his fingertips and pressing flush to his sides.

"Fuck—" He desperately tries to keep his hips in check, fights with each desperate attempt to jerk up, fails. "Holy shit—"

He's ready to beg you to slow down and show him mercy, equally ashamed of himself and turned on by the thought alone. You coo something about him squirming and twitching but he can't quite tell words from the stream of your voice. Blindly, he reaches up, hands stopping before they can reach your middle and pawing at your soft tummy. Again, you speak to him, but he's deaf in his pleasure, maybe if he opened his eyes—

He can't open them. If he does, it's the end. If he sees you, messy, disheveled, tired and so beautiful, he won't be able to last any longer. If he takes one more peek of your body bouncing on top of him, of you using him to your pleasure—

"Kento—" You beg him first, your voice drenched with ecstasy and breaking.

Nanami can't resist such a melody. He snaps his eyes open as if under a spell.

Your name dies between slurred whimpers when his hold tightens, clawing its way into your skin, and Nanami, early, way too early, caves in to pleasure. Eyes plastered to your bouncing tum and his hands sinking in it, now determined to not miss anything if it's bound to happen anyway, he joins the stuttering rhythm of your hips, just on time to push you into orgasm. A few thrusts later, stirred by the tight spasming of your cunt, he follows suit with a loud, the loudest this night, groan.

For a moment, reality around slurs too, and when he regains control over his senses, Nanami finds you in his arms, nestled on top of him, sweaty and breathing heavy. He runs hand up and down your back, smiling at the feel of rolls and softness underneath.

Your body presses his tight—and yet again Nanami reasserts himself his life truly wouldn't be the same if cruel fate ever took this blessed feeling away from him.

"One more time?" He whispers, lips pressed to the crown of your head. "I'm not quite full of you yet, my love."

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nolongerapileofashprobably · 8 months

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Just like how botw had small details telling us the probable ‘canonical’ route Link took (aka Zora, Rito, Goron, and then Gerudo), totk has something similar. I’m sure all players noticed that the newspapers will feature one region that is meant to direct Link to go aid the people there. First is Rito, next is Goron, third is Zora, and last is Gerudo. BUT! They also added something else.

Zelda’s role in the story. Namely, her interactions with Tulin, Yunobo, King Dorephan, and Riju. Annnnnnddd Link’s reactions to her!

Tulin’s interaction with her is one meant to confuse players: Zelda was in the past, but Tulin saw her? So she’s here in the present and we’re chasing after her. Sounds a lot like Skyward Sword, okay (which was released on the switch last year, so anyone who didn’t play it back in 2012 had another chance to). It confuses Link, but spurs him to become a journalist ? Cool, I’m here for it. I did journalism for 4 years, I’m sure Link can do it too!

Then, for Yunobo, he actively speaks to Zelda, we see her figure, and Link will actively gasp whenever we see her. He has a genuine reaction to her presence, because he’s surprised, but then we see pink gloom glow in the mask that Zelda have Yunobo and it makes him freak out land turn against Link. That’s when we start to put together that maybe Zelda is being controlled? Or she’s NOT Zelda, just as Yunobo begins to theorize but can’t quite wrap his head around it.

Next, we have King Dorephan who is actually attacked by Zelda and is injured to the point that he decides to hide from his people as to not create more chaos in this time. He chooses to give Zelda the benefit of the doubt here— he could have easily had his people turn against Hyrule and all Hylians because of Zelda’s actions. But he doesn’t! Because it simply doesn’t make sense. And by the end of the quest, Sidon comes to the conclusion that the Zelda in the past and the Zelda in the present are NOT the same.

And we see that thought truly stick with Link in a cutscene in Gerudo. After defending Kara Kara Bazaar, Zelda appears and Riju calls out for her. There is no gasp from Link like with Yunobo’s story, instead he watches Zelda with a slightly narrowed gaze and does not stop watching where she was last seen until Riju directly addresses him. They actively show the players that Link is suspicious, but he is still so very dedicated.

And it happens again, in the center of the light triangle. Zelda appears and Link begins to walk toward her, but there is no intake of breath, no shock at seeing her… instead he slowly walks until Riju calls out for him.

After Link finishes each phenomenon, going to Lookout Landing gives the players a clue in how Link is reacting. Specifically, if you speak to Buliara before going to see Purah, she says something along the lines of “Purah is up on the top deck, but don’t miss a wrung in your haste to get up there.”

Link is expected to rush. Because everyone is muttering about a figure that MIGHT be Zelda. At the castle. Right. Then. And. There.

Link GASPS when he first looks into the scope— Purah doesn’t even say it’s Zelda, not before Link sees for himself. It’s seeing her, clear as day, and even if Link KNOWS it’s not her… there’s still that seed of doubt that lives in his mind. And then at the castle, Link does twist and turn whenever he hears Zelda. He rushes after her every. Single. Time. She disappears. Despite that he knows it isn’t her, he can’t give up. He can’t. It’s quite literally not in his DNA. He sees it through; he needs to make sure it isn’t her. And it’s all a trap, one he walks right into, because he just HAS to see that it isn’t her.

And if you want to say “but Ash… this is just a recap of the storyline in the present.. not small details” let us just remember that Link��s driving motivation in this game is to find Zelda and bring her home. So many people just ignore these little moments or miss them completely.

And I’ll be damned if I don’t talk about link’s gasps or his twists and turns or his micro expressions that tell us so much about how he is feeling.

#I’m so exhausted someone please yell at me to sleep #I can’t wait to find Mineru #for a totk replay is truly good for the soul #loz tears of the kingdom spoilers #loz totk spoilers #loz totk #totk spoilers #totk zelda #totk link #totk sages #totk zelink #zelink #botw zelink #the legend of zelda

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kausstar · 5 months

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ᯓ ✶ KISS ME HARDER ◞ elliot.

headcanons + ask tags female! reader. nsfw + sfw content. black reader in mind but anyone can read. swearing. speaking of drug usage (smoking). kissing. brief mention of dom-sub dynamic. praise kink.

⟢ elliot as a general boyfriend would be fun. he’s very funny, other worldly conservative, loving, blunt, sarcastic and sweet.

a pure gentleman without trying. holds doors for you, ties your shoes, holds your bags, etc…

does literally everything and anything for you. even if he complains and groans a little, he will do it with a grin.

a flirt, even when you too are in a relationship. just loves messing with you and laughing to himself.

enjoys you and your company. even if you’re sitting in silence, he just loves it.

compliments you a lot. no matter if it’s in the morning or late at night he’s telling you how pretty you look.

favorite place to kiss you is definitely your face. will be so aggravated with it too. kissing you on your eye lids and cheeks.

extremely clingy when high. lays down directly on you just to torment you.

loves being held close to your chest and getting his hair played with. adores falling asleep with you like that.

isn’t really the jealous type and i mean that in he will be, just sometimes. it’s rare if he does because he’s barely paying attention to anything but you if you’re there.

thinks you’re the best thing that has happen to him in a long time and he adores you.

will bring you little trinkets that are absolutely useless but will smile so big about them it will make you want to keep it forever.

takes a lot of pictures with you. you’re his homescreen for sure. it’s probably a really bad picture of you too. he laughs or smiles at it every time he opens his phone.

will call you weird nicknames in weird situations. like if he’s getting something for you he’ll be like “here you are, madam” in a weird accent too.

loves to ramble and laugh when he’s high. will start a argument about which music genre is the best and if aliens are real.

likes silence too. especially when he’s going at his guitar or thinking deep about something.

if you don’t smoke or don’t like it, he’s not tripping at all. he tries his best to keep it away from you or not do it around you at all.

will stare at you for a long period of time, just admiring you and will blame it on the weed.

feels for you so if you get upset, he’s there right away trying to make you feel better. but if you’re mad at him, he’d hate it but he’ll distance himself to give you time to yourself.

loves if you spend the night at his. sexual or not he just loves spending time with you.

if he really misses you, he’ll take a trip to yours and sneak in or just go through the front door.

you buy him an astray and he’s never using it. doesn’t want it to get dirty with ashes aka for what it’s used for.

he would lean against his pillow and watch as rue came into the room, joint in hand, eyes searching for an astray. she spots one on his desk and goes to tap the end of the joint on it to let the ashes fall from the lit tip but he’s quick to say something. “don’t use that one.” rue would be confused but does as he says. “why?” she questions. “she bought it for me,” elliot would reply and rue would grin. “oh!” she’d drown it on. “i will not put my filthy ashes in your beautiful ashtray,” she’d say sarcastically.

started calling you ma’am as a joke but then it started to be a almost everyday thing and now it’s not a joke.

⟢ at school or out in public, he’s just the same but he tries his best to be on his best behavior.

loves to kiss you out in public at random times to see how you react.

likes having a hand on you. it’s not much of a protective thing but of a casual thing. maybe like around your shoulders or around your waist.

will dismiss himself from class early to be at your classroom to walk you to class.

greets you with a hand around your waist and a kiss to your cheek, lips or forehead.

⟢ around friends, there’s a out of teasing and laughing.

rue calls him “lover boy” all the time. almost always in front of you because he loves hates it.

talks about you highly and i know it. especially if you’ve known each other for some years.

loves making out with you in front of rue and jules for a good laugh. seeing them roll their eyes and laugh right along with the two of you is funny all on it’s own.

makes sex jokes about the two of you all the time. brags about how good he fucks you and even goes as far as laying out the scene for whoever is listening.

⟢ when you’re getting down in bed, he’s very light hearted. takes it seriously but doesn’t at the same time.

100% a “for fun” panty stealer. will slip them into his pocket after taken them off of you and will just chuckle to himself.

doesn’t hold his tongue at all. if he wants to fuck you in a random moment he’s definitely telling you in your ear.

eats cunt like a fucking fat kid eats cake. his eyes are closed and he’s in it. makes little jokes here and there but nothing too crazy.

isn’t afraid to hold eye contact when he’s in it. actually prefers for you to look at him more than anything.

will ask you random questions to mess with you when he’s fucking you or eating you out.

“you know,” he’d start, words soft as he pulls away from your cunt. fingers still working into of you. “this reminds me, i really want ice cream,” he’d say, licking his lips of your wetness while watching your chest rise and fall, moans spilling from your mouth. “wanna get ice cream later?” he continued to ramble even after putting his mouth back on you. mouth full of your clit, sucking and licking at it. “elliot, stop— aah— fucking talking, please. you’re gonna make me cum.” he would only grin. “yes, ma’am.”

vocal. a lot of “fuck, baby” and “let me see you”’s.

moans, moans, moans. i just know for a fact he isn’t afraid to let em slip and he knows you like it.

a people pleaser but just for you— so a you pleaser. wants to please you to his best ability.

i think he would enjoy missionary but also doggy. missionary because he would like seeing you and holding eye contact while he would like doggy because he can whisper his weird questions directly into your ear and it’s better to keep up quiet if he’s cousin’s home.

he wouldn’t think of sex as a dom-sub dynamic. don’t think he have any extreme kinks either.

likes when you’re needy though. thinks it’s really cute and he gets to tease you about it later.

takes you anywhere private. a laundry room * wink wink *, in the school bathroom, in someone’s bathroom at a party, doesn’t matter as long as it’s private.

 2023 kausstar.

got a ask for a elliot version soooo here ya go! also got a good drabble idea that will be posted today 😌.

#⋆ 𐙚 ₊ ˚ star #+ it was raining while i was finishing 😌.#+ i love the rain.#elliot imagine #elliot x reader #elliot #elliot euphoria #euphoria smut #euphoria imagine #euphoria #euphoria x reader #dominic fike #dominic fike x reader

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topherwrites · 1 month

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FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!

Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!

P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)

part 1, if you missed it.

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

JAKE SERESIN

Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain

In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.

The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies

On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread

you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.

Birds Away by @wombtotombx

You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.

*The Backup by @ereardon

No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits?

Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman

The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman

Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken

Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.

BRADLEY BRADSHAW

*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass

Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...

This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice

Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.

‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds

“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).

the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional

You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.

*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.

*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust

In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more.

How You Play the Game by @roosterforme

Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.

*The Intern by @/roosterforme

You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.

there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333

bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.

*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard

You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.

All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw

You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.

October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie

you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.

If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.

Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid

Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.

BOB FLOYD

*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3

Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.

Robert from Next Door by @attapullman

You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman

A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.

*Golden Hour by @/ereardon

Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain

The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.

International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist

a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman

Bob from Stats by @/attapullman

College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

#jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bob floyd #tgm fanfiction #fic rec #fic rec list #queue

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leossmoonn · 5 months

Note

Hey, I don't know if you do Clapton Davis fics. But can you do one about one of the girls at school that makes it look like Clapton Is cheating on the reader and theh break up and then he does everything to get her back? They end up back together in the end ofc :D

Btw I love your writings 💕💕💕

thank you! full disclosure… i haven’t watched detention yet, but ive read a lot of clapton fics and i feel like his character is pretty understandable and simple (aka loser, lover boy). if this isn’t correct then ill just have to watch detention 😭

includes - reader is fem, mentions of sex (this was actually so painful to write bruh. it gave me relationship flashbacks ). there’s like so much mentions of murder idk why, gets kinda frisky at the end (nothing major). not edited.

————

“that calc exam was brutal,” your friend zoey groans.

you nod in agreement. “even with the extra study sessions peterson offered, i felt like i didn’t know anything on the test.”

“why do teachers do that?” zoey frowns. “it’s like they’re trying to make us fail.”

“they probably are,” you remark. you both turn the corner, your gaze falling to your shoes as you rethink every math problem you just did, hoping they were right. you don’t look up until zoey gasps. you barely are able to lift your head up when she grabs your arm, spinning your around in the direction you just came from.

“what are you doing?” you hiss. “trust me, you don’t want to look,” zoey says. you frown, “what happened? is someone like, pissing in the hallway?”

zoey laughs awkwardly. “not this time.”

“well, then it can’t be that bad.” you twist your arm out of her grip, walking back.

“stop!” zoey warns you, but it’s too late. your jaw drops at first glance. once your eyes settle on the situation, your heart sinks to your chest and you suddenly feel nauseous. right in front of you is your boyfriend, clapton, and the most popular girl in school, taylor fisher. she has him trapped up against a locker, pressing herself against him. they aren’t kissing, but if they both leaned in then they could. she looks like a predator zoning in on her prey. worst thing is that clapton doesn’t even look bothered. he doesn’t look uncomfortable. he’s smiling and laughing. he’s looking at her like he wants to fuck her.

zoey stands next to you, a sorry expression on her face. “i’m so sorry,” she whispers.

you swallow hard, feeling like there’s glass in your throat. the bridge of your nose burns and you feel droplets of water run down your face. the worst thing is about this is that he hasn’t even noticed you standing there yet.

“let’s get you out of here,” zoey says, grabbing your hand. you’re about to go with her when taylor’s hand touches his chest. he doesn’t push her away. he doesn’t grimace in disgust. he does nothing. taylor and clapton spots you a few seconds later. his eyes widen, like he just got caught committing a crime. to you, it feels like he did.

“look what the cat dragged in,” taylor grins maliciously.

zoey can’t help but roll her eyes. “that’s rich of you to say.”

“baby,” clapton says, sounding helpless. “don’t.” you say, clenching your jaw and fists. it’s now when he pushes taylor away, walking towards you. you shake your head. “we are done.”

you turn to zoey. “get me out of here?” she nods enthusiastically, gently grabbing your hand and leading you out the exit.

she takes you back to her house. you’re silent the whole way there and silent about the whole time you’re at her house. she puts on one of your favorite movies in hopes to cheer you up. but you just sit on her couch taking deep, shaky breathes. she pauses the movie with a quarter left, turning to you.

“you shouldn’t keep this all in, you know.”

you nod, acknowledge her words. you still don’t say anything. you’re afraid if you speak you’ll start sobbing. zoey places her hand on your knee.

“i don’t want to force you to say anything, but i’m here for you.”

“i know,” you say, your voice coming out like a croak. “are you hungry? i can make us some ramen,” zoey suggests.

you shake your head. you haven’t eaten since lunch, which was about six hours ago. but you have no appetite.

“how about some crackers? i have saltines,” she says.

“i’m okay,” you say.

“how about some water? or some soda?”

you think for a moment, slowly nodding. “okay. i’ll have water.” you only agree to a drink because you know zoey will something for you anyway. she gets up and goes to her fridge. she returns with a glass of water and some crackers with m&ms.

“zoey,” you frown. “you don’t have to eat these at all,” she says. “but if you end up wanting something, these are here for you. and you know you can have anything else you want while you’re here.”

you start crying now. you open your mouth to thank her, but it comes out in a sob. she rushes to hug you, holding you as you cry into her shirt. you pull away after a good 15 minutes of crying. zoey gives you some tissues and you blow your nose.

“out of every guy at school, she had to choose him? 90% of the guys at school are single, and he had to choose my guy?” you scoff.

zoey nods and pats your arm comfortingly.

“b-but he’s not my guy anymore,” you sob. your whole chest hurts as you cry. it feels tight and like you can’t breathe. your heart feels like it’s physically breaking. it feels like clapton took your heart out of your body and he and taylor smashed it all up with sledgehammers.

“taylor is a bitch, and not the one that she refers to herself as.”

“yeah, she is,” you nod. “she’s a disrespectful, evil, pretty, popular bitch,” you start to wail.

“just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean you aren’t either. don’t compare yourself like that.”

you snuffle, wiping your nose roughly. “and clapton — ugh! i let clapton-fucking-davis play me. that dumb, little, attention-seeking twerp! all he has to do it push her away and say no. he can’t do that because as soon as a girl gets close to him, he starts thinking with his dick!”

“boys are dumb,” zoey confirms. “yeah,” you nod. your crying comes to a stop and you look at zoey with a self-pitying expression. “i liked him a lot. i let him meet my parents. i’ve snuck him into my house. he’s made cookies with my mom and talked to my dad about cars. i… i thought he liked me.”

“he’s in love with you,” zoey says. you shake your head and laugh sourly. “no, he’s not. he likes the attention i give him. he likes the fact that because of me, he sees boobs and has sex. he likes the fact that he can call me his girlfriend.”

“well, i find it hard to believe that you don’t like all the superficial things he does for you. don’t tell me you forgot that you literally called me while he was still in your house, after had just given you, and i quote from you, “the best night of sex i will ever have”. you also love his muscles and his abs and the way he looks at you when you’re naked and when you’re all dressed.”

“yeah, but,” you huff. “i didn’t let a guy talk me up and basically grind up against him in the hallway.”

“you’re right,” she nods. “you are totally right. and i’m not saying to forgive him at all. in fact, don’t. i’m just… i do think that he’s in love with you. and he just made a terrible mistake.”

“i don’t want to forgive him,” you frown. “like i said, you don’t have to. i just hate to hear you talk so bad about yourself. you are a catch and you have your whole life to find the guy of your dreams!” zoey exclaims.

“what if i wanted him to be that?” you ask. she sighs, “if it’s meant to be, then it will be.”

the next day you feel like shit. you can only manage to drink half a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. zoey picks you up for school and you try to request sad songs, but she declines. she sings the most annoying, happy songs to your face. she almost catches you smiling, but you frown so deep it makes you both laugh. you almost forget about the unfortunate series of events until you show up to school and see taylor walking out of her car.

“how does she always look so perfect?” you ask. “she really doesn’t. she obviously didn’t put on makeup today and that orange shirt isn’t doing her any favors,” zoey says.

you scoff and turn your head to face her. “you’re joking, right?”

“did it make you feel better?”

“a little.”

“then no, i’m not.”

you managed to avoid clapton the whole day. you ate lunch in zoey’s car, got to your classes super early, and even was able to avoid using your locker — which you hated using anyways. you started to feel better as you begin to think about all the fun things zoey has planned for you this weekend. the happiness dissipates as you see clapton standing by zoey’s car.

“oh, my god,” zoey grumbles.

he’s holding a huge pink teddy bear and a jewelry box. he smiles brightly as you approach him.

“hey! i didn’t see you today. i thought that i would —”

“save it,” you stop him. “i told you we are over. what part of that isn’t clear?”

he sighs, “i know. but then i remembered that you liked this teddy bear that you saw online, and it was there at the store! so i decided to get it for you. and i also bought these earrings that i had already got you for our anniversary, but i figured you’d like them sooner.” he opens the box. “they’re the theme of your favorite book.”

you have the fight the urge to swoon. “i’m sorry you spent your money on me, clapton. please move so we don’t run you over.”

“please,” he begs.

“please what, calpton? please listen to your sorry excuses? please listen to you ramble on for ten minutes without even talking about what happened? please wait for you to apologize? no!” you shout.

he opens his mouth to speak, but you stop him.

“you hurt me, clapton. seeing you with taylor, that hurt.”

“i know, but i can explain. we weren’t doing anything, i swear —”

“yeah, that’s what hurts! you know, i wish that you kissed her and i caught you inside of her, cause that would’ve been so much more explainable. that would’ve been so much more acceptable. but no. you just stood there letting her sweet talk you. i know you’re not used to getting noticed. you’re known as the class-clown and people sometimes rag on you, but i thought you weren’t letting that bother you anymore! you told me yourself that you don’t need anyone’s validation anymore. but that’s obviously false.”

he blinks rapidly, jaw dropping and closing a couple of times.

“you can save this stuff for the next girl. or just keep them yourself,” you say. you turn to zoey who is trying to contain her excitement. “can we go to out to eat?” you ask.

“i was just about to ask you the same thing,” zoey smiles. you try to not look at clapton as she drives away, but you can’t help it. he looks like a lost puppy that just got his heart stomped on. he kind of feels that way.

he feels terrible. this is the worst he’s ever felt in his entire life. this outdoes the time he went to six flags and threw up all the popcorn and toxic waste he ate.

“hey, honey. did she not like your gifts?” clapton’s mom asks as he shows up with full hands.

“no, she didn’t.”

she frowns and gets up from the kitchen table. “did you apologize?”

“yeah,” he nods slowly. she narrows her eyes. “why can’t you boys say sorry?”

“girls can’t say sorry either!”

“not the point,” she says. “you have been talking about this girl nonstop for the last two months. your father has said you should just ask her to marry you if you like her so much. even if she hates you now, which is understandable, you need to give her a real apology.”

“i do feel sorry! i just… what if i say sorry and tell her how i feel, and she still rejects me?”

“then she rejects you. as long as you try and learn from this, it’ll be okay.”

clapton nods in agreement, trudging up to his room and laying down on his bed. he knows he messed up bad. he never meant to hurt you. he’s never dreamed of every hurting you. he know he doesn’t have a good explanation. he can’t even explain what happened between taylor and him himself. but what he does know is that he feels absolutely nothing for taylor, and his whole heart is yours. he steal for you, lie for you, go to jail for you. he would split the world for you.

he has to let you know how he feels about you.

clapton’s at your window, throwing rocks at it. he’s been there for half an hour. at first he thought you were ignoring him, but now he just thinks you’re not home. he’s correct when he sees zoey’s car pull up in your driveway.

“oh, shit,” he mumbles. he panics and looks around him for somewhere to hide. he jumps in a bush that’s on the side of your house, hoping you don’t see him.

“that was the best crab rangoon i have ever had,” zoey groans. “i might have to go back before i go back home.”

you scoff, “being me back some!” you’re about to walk into your garage when clapton lets out a sneeze.

“did you hear that?” zoey asks. “uh, yeah,” you nod. “hello?” you call out. there’s no answer. fear seeps into your chest. “you need to take me back to your place now. someone could be plotting to kill me!”

“okay, yeah,” she nods. “should we call the police? I’m going to call the police.”

clapton jumps out the bushes, scaring both of you to death. you both scream as he appears in front of you.

“it’s just me! it’s just me!”

“oh, my! fuck! clapton!” you groan. “you can’t do that? we almost just had a heart attack and died!”

“okay, that’s a little bit dramatic,” he chuckles.

“and you’re here!” you wave your hands in the air angrily. “why are you here! you are so annoying and creepy.”

“don’t you think me waiting here is romantic?” he asks, giving you a hopeful smile.

“you’ve been waiting on me? agh!” you scream. “get out of my house!”

“i’m technically not in your —”

“do you want me to kill you?” you ask. “no,” he shakes his head. “i mean, if that’s what you want. anything for you.”

“clapton,” zoey says. she grabs his arm, escorting him to her car. “i will drive you home so you don’t die tonight, okay? this is out of the kindest of my heart. even though i think you are a d-bag.”

“wait, wait, wait! please! i want to say one more thing. after this , i’ll never speak to you again. i promise,” clapton pleads.

zoey raises her brows at you and you shrug. she lets him go and he walks back to you.

“i am so sorry,” he says. “good start,” you remark.

“i… i really don’t have any explanation for what you saw. i know that doesn’t help, but i can tell you what happened. she was asking if i could get the physics homework answers from you to give to her. i was saying no, but before i knew it, she was saying funny things to butter me up. and then she trapped me against the lockers and put her hand on my chest to pin me down.”

“you expect me to believe that?” you scoff. “i know. i know it’s not practical, but,” he takes your hands into his and stares into your eyes, “i swear on my love for you that that is the honest truth. you can even ask her! you know taylor wouldn’t lie to you.”

you search his face. he looks so desperate, so pained. you really don’t know whether or not to believe him.

“i hope you know that you don’t have to forgive me. just know that i am so sorry and hurting you makes me want to eat shit while i’m skateboarding. i’ll leave now.” he let’s go of your hands. you feel so cold now, so lonely. “can you take me home still?” he asks zoey.

“i guess so,” she huffs. “see you tomorrow,” she says to you.

you nod and give her a small smile, waving goodbye to the two of them. you go up to your room after talking with your parents for a little bit. you spot the countless pictures you have of you and clapton. you’ve known him since freshman year of high school, but you’ve known him for only a couple of months. saying goodbye to him feels like a knife twisting into your back, bud that’s how you felt seeing him with taylor.

you never thought clapton would hurt you, not like this. but you know people can change and reveal a part of themselves you never knew existed. eventually, the truth comes out. but you find it hard to believe that this is the case with clapton. the way he’s treated you since you’ve started dating is like nothing you’ve ever experienced in other relationships.

he’s always been super sweet to you. always complimenting you, asking how you slept, carrying your backup, holding you accountable when you study. he’s never been good with words, but he’s never had to be. he always is holding your hand or massaging your back. he loves buying you gifts or making you stuff. he likes cooking for you, too, even though he’s quite terrible at it. he’s always protecting you against rude remarks you sometimes get at school. sometimes the girls will say something about your outfit, and clapton always has something to say to them. not to mention, he is a giver and always makes sure you get satisfied multiple times before he gets anything. which is super different from any other guy you’ve been with.

for you to be able to know the real truth, you know what you have to do.

“you don’t have anything sharp on you, right?” zoey asks. “no,” you say. “why?”

“in case you try and kill taylor.”

“what! i would never do that!”

zoey gives you a look and you roll your eyes. “the closest i would get would be cutting off her hair. which, to her, would be murder.”

zoey chuckles, “you so should do that.”

you shrug, “we’ll see what happens.”

“hey, taylor!” you plaster on the brightest smile ever. she turns to you, looking you up and down while smacking gum. “can i help you?”

“yeah,” you nod. “i was just wondering what you and mike were talking about?”

“why do you wan to know?” she asks. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “i am just wondering. it’s not like you were discussing murder right?”

she glares at your cheap joke. “i asked him if he knew anybody with the answers to the physics homework. i tried to get your answers, but he just kept saying no. he kept saying how i should do my own work and how you’re not just some homework-giver, or whatever. i tried to seduce him, but for some reason it didn’t work. his brain must be broken or something.”

“really?” you ask. “yeah. he actually laughed at me. i mean, what kind of freak does that?” she scoffs.

you can’t help but laugh yourself. she frowns. “am i a joke or something?”

“no,” you say unconvincingly, turning around and walking to zoey who is waiting for you by your locker.

“what’s the verdict?” she asks. “i… i guess clapton was telling the truth,” you say. “i need to find him.”

“i don’t think he came to school today.”

you groan, “well, i can’t skip school.”

“i’ll drive you to his house right after school.”

zoey does so, leaving when you tell her clapton can take you home. you go to his backyard, finding some rocks and throwing it at his window.

“clapton! it’s me!” you shout. you see him at the window almost immediately. he opens it, sticking his head out. “i thought you didn’t want to see me?”

“can i come inside and i’ll explain?”

he leaves for a few moments, opening his back porch window. he leaves it opens for you and you walk in, sliding the door shut behind you. you follow him up to his shook, gasping as you see the variety of gifts he has on his desk. there’s the bear and earrings you’ve already seen. then there’s a bouquet of roses, a couple of books, some gift cards, and some of your favorite snacks.

“how long have you had these?”

“a couple of days,” he admits. “i saw this thing online about like, a love basket. i was going to put all these things in them and give it to you.”

“didn’t you promise you wouldn’t see me anymore?”

“i would’ve left it at your door. that way you technically wouldn’t have seen me.”

you laugh softly. you now know that he never would have given up on you. it’s kind of sweet. especially since you didn’t really want to never see him again.

“i spoke to taylor,” you say. “oh.” his eyes widen in surprise. “what, uh, what did she say?”

“everything that you said. you know, i actually feel bad for her.” you take a step towards him.

“why?” he asks. “cause it seems like you hurt her feelings when you rejected her,” you explain.

“well, she’s not the girl i want.” he moves closer to you and takes your hands into his. “i am so sorry, again. i should have walked away long before you came.”

“you should have,” you nod.

“and you are the best thing that happened to me. you make me so happy. you don’t make me feel dumb or worthless. you accept me and like me. you don’t think of me as some joke. you make me feel good. and i just want to make you feel good for as long as you’ll let me,” he confesses.

“i’ll let you for a long time,” you smile. he smiles back, leaning in and kissing you. you pull away after a few moments, giggling a little bit.

“what?” he asks. “how much money did you spent on me?” you look at his desk.

“uh, you don’t want to know.”

“clapton!”

“you wanna take a look at them? they’re all great. i know you super well.”

he walks you to his desk. the books are form your book wishlist you’ve sent him. the gift cards are of your favorite shops. you awe, kissing him again.

“i think i know you super well, too,” you say against his lips.

“oh, yeah?” he breathes against your lips.

“let me show you.”

#clapton davis x reader #clapton davis #detention 2011 #josh hutcherson x reader

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oliviajdjarin · 1 year

Text

Din Djarin: Bright and Shiny

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her)

Excerpt: “Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.”

“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”

You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.

“What do you like about it?”

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut (me writing a dom man?), with softness at the end. The Crest is aliveee. Grogu isn’t here yet.

A/N: Happy Dincember everyone, aka my absolute favorite tumblr tradition. To all the authors updating prompts every day…are you Gods?

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be very appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

There was no bigger hypocrite in the galaxy than the infamous Mandalorian.

Blood-crusted beskar coated the majority of his body every time he placed his feet on solid ground—every time— in addition to the metaphorical armor that was his demeanor. Solid, unbreakable, stern, terrifying.

It was not until you had spent a few months as his “partner” at the Guild, thus living together on his quickly crumbling Razor Crest, that you were met with his true doctrine of hypocrisy.

It was as if every time he elected to remove a piece of his armor for you, he knocked down one of his walls. First was the night he removed the small shoulder and shin pieces, the same night he elected to crack his first joke. Next was the dark-browned chest, sharing with you that he was a foundling in his Covert. Then the belt, covered in more weapons and weight than you had ever seen, and he told the story of his first kill. Then the wrists, along with the story of his toughest kill. The one that haunted him as he attempted to fall asleep at night. Then his gloves, with the story of the first woman he had ever fell in love with.

“You remind me of her,” he had said to you, “except you have actually stayed.” He had said the last part quickly before immediately exiting the pit to hide in his “room” for a few hours.

You remained in your copilot seat, staring off into the stars of hyperspace, unable to think at all.

Slowly—very slowly— the Mandalorian had revealed more and more of his true self to you. The one who would sneakily hum around the Crest, make sure to turn your heated blanket on early on cold nights, and always—always—avoid spiced food like the plague.

“It upsets my stomach,” he had defended, and you scoffed in return.

After such long travel-times on jobs, you would get so used to the softness of his true personality that when he would have to put his armor back on—literally and figuratively— you almost felt like you were looking and speaking to a different person.

The heat in your lower stomach felt that way too.

It flared when he was soft, but the switch from the man you knew to the Mandalorian always reminded you both of when you first met him and what he was truly capable of.

Plus, seeing the width of his shoulders accentuated by the most expensive and impenetrable metal known to man was not bad either.

You had been sitting at the usual meeting spot with Greef, ready to discuss the dozen pucks already sitting in front of you. You were still due for a new job after the boat-load of beskar given to you for the little green baby— which definitely was not still on your conscious— and Mando was running a bit late due to the crafting of his new armor. You waited anxiously to see the results.

“I have never held this much in my own hands before,” he had said to you, and you beamed up at him as he spoke. “This will likely be enough for an entirely new set.”

You had no idea how right he was.

You sat at the booth with Greef, making pleasant enough conversation, but mostly daydreaming of what Mando was seeing, feeling, touching. The pleasure to watch his own armor be crafted by hand, you could not even imagine what that would be like.

You took a sip of your drink—one that Greef had been so gracious to buy for you—and let it burn as you set it down on the sticky wooden table. As soon as the glass touched the wood, the entire cantina silenced, and all eyes went to the entrance. Your eyes followed the crowd’s, unable to see for certain what everyone was looking at.

It only took a few seconds for you to realize that the “what” was actually a “who,” and that “who” was the kindest man you had ever known wrapped in wealth, power, and impenetrability.

It was a good thing you had set your drink down, because it would have dropped to the floor, shattering into millions of pieces, because he was the sexist thing you had ever laid your eyes on.

This was the Mandalorian.

You thought his previous armor was intimidating—small shoulder pieces, a wide chest piece, and even wider thigh pieces. He was both a distraction to you and a threat to everyone else in that armor.

But now, now he fully covered, head to toe, in shimmering silver. His waist the tiniest you had seen it, with his shoulders as wide as they had ever looked. Almost the entirety of his legs were covered now, and even his helmet gleamed and glistened in the light. He walked straighter, stood taller, and stepped slower. Like he was enjoying this.

He had never looked more lethal, and with all of the eyes on him, his own were on you.

You stared back at him as he made his way, mouth slightly parted, and legs squeezing tighter and tighter together with each step he took. The typical slight steam in your stomach at the sight of him was now boiling hot, running through the blood in your body faster than you could process. The lack of blood flow to your brain caused it to wipe itself clean and focus solely on the warrior in front of you. Your hands began to shake and your mouth parched.

You were speechless. A deadly bounty hunter stunned speechless.

He said nothing as he scooched his way into the booth, and you remained looking at him even when his body was turned towards Greef.

“I want my next job,” he said.

Greef said something, something witty, but you didn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it.

“I want my next job,” Mando repeated. Amban rifle in his lap, leaning slightly forward.

Holy fuck the heat in you.

He grabbed a puck and began walking out, turning back to signal you to follow. You stood slowly, thanked Greef, and exited the Cantina, eyes locked on the expanse of his back the entire walk to the Crest.

~*~

It wasn’t two seconds after Mando put the security lock on the Crest that he had you cornered with his words.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. You were both in the cock pit, ready to take off, and you were standing in front of the controls.

“No,” you said, meeting his gaze as fiercely as you could. Your hands were glued to your sides and your fists squeezed so hard they stung.

“Okay,” he said, so fucking softly it hurt you. He was still making his way closer to you, forcing you to look up.

“Okay,” you responded, and you thought that was it. He would back off.

But your fucking eyes betrayed you, darting down to the expanse of his body, and he laughed.

“Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.

“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”

“What do you like about it?”

You could barely breathe enough to respond. Your throat instantly dried, and every word of any language was lifted from you.

“I—I like—” you started, swallowing “—I like the chest.”

“The chest,” he said, bringing your hand up to the cold metal. “What about it?”

You traced your fingers down it, still forced to look up at him by his leather glove. “I like how wide it makes you. How powerful.”

He stood there in silence before asking, “what else?”

“The legs,” you whispered. “I really like the legs.”

He nearly growled. “Why Y/N? Tell me.”

Your name on his lips at this stage of the game was too much.

“It makes them look big. Strong,” you said, heart in your throat. “I like that.”

He softened his grip on your face and moved his hand to the back of your neck. “I know you do.” He then tapped twice on his helmet. “Heat signature.”

Your face fell and paled.

How long had he—

“I’ve known since the first day I met you,” he said, massaging your neck. “Just never knew how to bring it up.”

“Why now?” you whispered, voice deep from the pleasure of his fingers.

“Because this is the strongest it’s ever been for you,” he replied. “And for me. Seeing you watching me like that…”

He brought his hand back to frame your face.

“…I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than you in that moment.”

He started pulling you forward by your face.

“And now i have you, don’t I?”

Yes he did, so much of you, parts of you you didn’t even know about before him.

“Yes.”

He let go of you and sat in the pilot’s seat, spreading his legs.

“So ruin me, Y/N. Ruin this bright and shiny armor.”

You practically jumped on him.

You immediately mounted him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, and felt all around the metal. Your breaths fogged up his helmet as you did, practically moaning at the chance to finally feel the expanse of his body. He kept his hands firmly on your hips, watching your face as you panted and whined in his.

After a few moments he picked you up and sat you on his right thigh.

“Go on.”

You immediately rolled your hips, fully moaning at the feeling, and rolled them faster and faster and deeper and deeper.

Your head began tipping back as the metal ground against your clit perfectly, but Mando pulled your face forward to rest your forehead on his.

“Mando—”

“It’s Din,” he said firmly, squeezing your hips enough to bruise. “Say it.”

You rolled your hips over and over, desperation dripping off your voice. “Din.”

It was then that he released a moan, ripped your pants and underwear off of you, and took control of your hips on his thigh. He placed you down just right and tears coated your eyes, sweat poured from your pours, and with one inch of incline from his leg, you shattered.

Your forehead fell against his, panting and whining “Din” over and over again as he kept you moving on him through your orgasm. You felt yourself drip down onto the floor and run down his legs, and your eyes rolled at the thought.

You held onto the fabric around his neck for dear life, gathering as much breath as you could, and Din just let you.

It was then that he started to feel you up.

He moved from your hips to your bare thighs, back up to your clothed breasts, then to your face to brush back your hair, and finally back down to your thighs. He gathered your drip from his thigh onto his leather glove. He brought it underneath his helmet, and your mouth dropped open.

He sucked it slowly, not making any noise except a slight groan. “I knew I was right.”

You swallowed, still panting in both exhaustion and shock. “Right?”

“I knew every part of you was perfect.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you smiled nice and wide. You had a feeling he was smiling too.

It was this sense of elation and euphoria that gave you the freedom not to think before sliding your hand over his hardened bulge and raising your eyebrows in question.

He chuckled, which somehow melted you more than anything he had done previously.

“Not right now,” he said sweetly, and pulled you into his chest. You cozied up into him before he slowly lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t think I’d last two seconds.”

You smiled, humming. “Okay Din.”

His body tensed a bit when you said that, and you wondered if you crossed some sort of boundary, but he continued on his way to his bed. He set you in It, wrapping you in his sheets, and grabbing a towel to clean you off. You got a good show of yourself stained and running all over his thigh and nearly jumped on him again.

“Like I said,” he countered, likely picking up on the change in your temperature, “I wouldn’t last two seconds.”

You nodded with a smile and he took the towel to the laundry room before returning to you, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Get some rest,” he said. “We have a job to do in the morning.”

He stood, making his way back to the cockpit, but you called out to him.

“Mando, wait,” you said, and he froze before slowly turning back around. “Are we okay? Was that…okay?”

He paused, leaning himself into the doorway, sighing as always, and said, “Y/N, I wouldn’t trade the world for the last hour I’ve had with you.”

You enjoyed this forward, talkative Din much more than you anticipated to.

“And call me Din,” he said. “Please.”

He then left you, starting up the Crest to make its way to hyperspace, and you drifted slowly into sleep, still on a high. You finally fell asleep to the feeling of a warm body wrapping itself around you, and a deep voice whispering in your ear, “We’re okay, Y/N. We’re okay.”

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag is not present/not working. Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@leahkenobi @cityofidek @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon @just-a-sewer-goblin @em---r @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @reader8679

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ferrstappen · 1 year

Text

Taylor Swift l The Collection

this is the masterlist for a series of one shots, scenarios that have come up while listening to different Taylor Swifts albums, with different drivers from the grid <3

Back to December l Charles Leclerc

and I think about summer, all the beautiful times, I watched you laughing from the passenger side.

summary: she cursed herself every day for being scared of falling for him, because he wasn't afraid of loving her.

You Belong With Me l George Russell

if you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see? You belong with me.

summary: she had the worst luck because her best friend was a serial dater, but she knows him better than any of his girlfriends, and she needs him to know.

august l Lando Norris

wanting was enough, for me it was enough.

summary: every single one of her friends warned her that he was fresh out of a relationship. his friends whispered that he had been so in love just a couple of weeks ago and now he was holding hands with someone else. but she didn't care.

Enchanted l Lance Stroll

this night is sparkling, don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck blushing all the way home

summary: forced small talk, tiny pieces of fancy finger food, and long flutes of champagne, but after they saw each other... small talk became a little bigger, laughter falling a bit more freely.

Ours l Max Verstappen

so don't you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine.

summary: he was always in the eye of the hurricane; some days because of his talents, others because of his character, but it didn't matter when he got home and walked holding her hand.

Girl At Home l Daniel Ricciardo

don't look at me, you got a girl at home and everybody knows that.

summary: she knew he had someone back in Australia waiting for him. but she was so far away, and he needed to be comforted, now.

Begin Again l Pierre Gasly

he didn't like it when I wore high heels, but I do.

summary: she was used to the bare minimum, maybe even a little less than that. and then he came in, waiting for her to order first during their first date.

Long Live l Esteban Ocon

of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines, wishing for right now.

summary: Esteban Ocon (aka the biggest Spiderman fan, according to himself) tried to bribe his girlfriend, gave her the silent treatment, he called her out during race weekends, but Marvel was just too good keeping their secrets. (actress!reader)

False God l Carlos Sainz Jr.

but we might just get away with it.

summary: it was just the third race of the calendar when he walked inside her hotel room, telling her that they could try it... and HR would never know.

Speak Now l Max Verstappen

fond gestures are exchanged, and the organ starts to play a song that sounds like a death march.

summary: His mind was spinning. Get up, sit down! Speak up, shut up! You already lost her, you broke up with her! Nobody would've guessed everything that was going on inside Max's head as he watched her put on her white dress.

Sparks Fly l Charles Leclerc

give me something that will haunt me when you're not around

summary: she liked telling people that she was done with love, but shit... his green eyes made her want to jump into his arms and love him to the best of her ability.

Happiness l Charles Leclerc

there'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you.

summary: they were going to be fine, relationships come to an end eventually... but he was focused on his job, and she was watching him through the screen.

illicit affairs l Carlos Sainz Jr.

and you know damn well, for you I'd ruin myself.

summary: it wasn't fair that he made her fall in love with him, not when he took her heart for granted and his heart started beating for some other girl.

#charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #max verstappen x reader #esteban ocon x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lance stroll x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc imagine #daniel ricciardo imagine #max verstappen imagine #esteban ocon imagine #carlos sainz imagine #lance stroll imagine #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #lando norris imagine #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine

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harringtown · 2 years

Text

get the darkness to dance

requested by anonymous

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie has a nightmare & reader comforts him (aka some angst, some fluff, and a touch starved eddie getting the affection he Deserves)

word count: 2.4k

Eddie hasn’t slept through the night in two months. Technically, since he crawled back through the hole in his old trailer’s roof, covered in bite marks and on death’s door.

A transfusion or two, more stitches than he can count and a hefty rabies vaccine later, he was discharged from the hospital and taken straight to the police station in cuffs. If it weren’t for Jim Hopper, making his miraculous return from the dead, Eddie would be rotting in a cell by now.

He could have it worse. Max is still comatose at the hospital. Dozens upon dozens of Hawkins residents—who hated him, sure, and only partially for fake reasons—didn’t survive what was now being called the biggest earthquake of the century. Even if all those people hated him, no one deserved to die like that.

A little, or a lot, of insomnia and some healing wounds are nothing he can’t handle. He’s survived worse.

So, when he gets a call from you in the middle of the night during a vicious storm, and you tell him your power is out, your parents are in Indianapolis for the weekend, and ask to come over, he says yes. Because maybe another body in the house when he tries to sleep will trick his mind into it. Because, if he’s being honest, there are very few things in this world that make him feel better, and you’re one of them.

Because he’s tired, and in the months since he met you, he hasn’t been able to say no to you.

He’d never admit it, but in some ways, the end of the world is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. It brought you crashing into his life, literally—when he put a gun to Steve Harrington’s chin in the boathouse, you tackled him into a wobbly kayak. That was that. Eddie Munson became every lovestruck stereotype he spent his life making fun of.

And sure, the Upside Down and all its chaos put him squarely at the top of Hawkins most wanted list and almost put him in a grave, but not everything can be perfect. Eddie knows that better than most.

This, though—you, stretched out on the pullout couch in the living room, head on a pillow from his bed—is pretty damn close to perfect. Eddie is trying very hard not to ruin it.

“Need any more blankets? The trailer may be new, but the heater is not—”

“For the fourth time,” you say, but you’re smiling, “I’m warm enough.”

Eddie holds up his hands in surrender. “If you’re bullshitting, it’s your frostbite.” He waggles his brows once. “However. It’d be a damn shame to come out and find you a pile of fingers and toes on my couch.”

“Plus, you’ve already got a record,” you say, and if it were anyone else, it would make him angry, but because it’s you, he just laughs. Because with most people, the jokes are jibes, and with you, they’re genuinely that. Jokes.

“Like they need any more excuses to drag my sorry ass back into that police station.”

You roll your eyes and drag your blanket bundle up over your chest, settling back into the couch.

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but before he gets the chance, you interrupt him.

“And also for the fourth time, no, I’m not taking your bed, so don’t even ask.”

Eddie huffs and waves a hand.

“Screw me for being a gentleman, eh?”

“You wish,” you say, and Eddie snorts.

“Next time you call me in the middle of the night, begging for my company, I’m going to remember this.”

“I don’t know about begging—”

“Oh, it was begging,” he says.

“Ridiculous,” you say with a smile, and Eddie grins, too. He flips off the overhead light, and the small yellow lamp from the old trailer casts a warm yellow glow over the room.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, and turns for the hall.

“Eddie,” you say, and Eddie swears his heart does one of those cartoon flip-flops right inside his chest. He stops, turns to face you.

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek for a beat before saying, gently, “Thank you.”

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat. He nods a few too many times.

“‘Course,” he says. “Anytime.” And he surprises himself by meaning it.

The dreams come in varying shades and flavors, some of which are so creative that Eddie is impressed by his own twisted subconscious. Most of them, he’s learned to see through. Nightmares, dreams altogether, have tells. Find a clock, and if he can’t read the numbers, he’s asleep. Look at his hands, and if he has too few or too many fingers, he’s dreaming. If his mother makes an appearance, it’s either a dream or he’s managed to squeeze his way to heaven. Which, unlikely, so: dream.

The one he still can’t see through is the one that’s still too close to reality. Eddie, bleeding out through more puncture wounds than he can count, watching his measly life roll behind his eyes, trying in vain to claw his way back to the world.

He can feel the broken earth beneath him and the claws dragging him back, and when he tries to scream, his throat is raw. He can’t make a noise, can’t save himself, can’t do anything but lie here as they tear him apart—

“Wake up, Munson.”

Hands on his shoulders, but not rough, not sharp. Steady.

“It’s a dream. It’s just a dream. It’s not real.”

His eyes snap open and he jerks up, finding himself in his dark bedroom. You kneel on the edge of the mattress, hands still on his arms, though now your fingers are curled in the fabric of his sleeves. Your knuckles graze his biceps each time he heaves a breath.

An image flickers behind his eyelids; bright red lightning flashes and spindly wings and—

“Look at me, Eddie.” That sound, his name off your lips, winds the last thread of consciousness into place, he realizes where he is, what’s happening.

Eddie pushes back until he hits the wall, as far out of your grasp as possible. Like each inch will keep you safer from him and the powder keg that is his life. That is him.

He has heard it all, a thousand times, from a hundred different people.

Too loud. Too opinionated. Too distractable. Too distracting. Too much.

His father. Teachers. His grandparents. Everyone except his uncle, and after these last months, he’s sure even that is bound to break.

“Eddie—"

“Sorry,” he says. “I wake you up?” He cards a hand through his hair, and when his fingers get caught in the tangles, he wrenches for a moment before just giving up.

Your brows furrow. “Are you, like, going to pretend that didn’t just happen?”

Abso-fucking-lutely, and he’d appreciate it if you went along with that plan. He knows you won’t.

“And what happened, exactly?”

“You were screaming.”

Eddie’s stomach lurches.

“Fear isn’t the only thing that makes people scream, you know,” he says. “Surely someone’s taught you that by now.”

Even the darkness of the room can’t hide the dark flush on your neck, at the tops of your cheeks and ears. But to his frustration, you don’t take the bait and steer the conversation into safer waters.

You frown for a long moment. So long Eddie is sure you’re cooking up some kind of lecture. And then you climb all the way onto the bed, dropping down beside him and effectively trapping him. He hasn't decided if he minds, yet. Most of his actual mind is still stuck in a nightmare.

“Eddie,” you say.

Eddie doesn’t think anyone has ever said his name like that before—like it’s not a bullet.

“Look at me,” you say, and he does. And no one has ever looked at him like this, either.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

“Not really,” he says.

You nod. Your brow twitches, and you lift a hand to settle on his face. Your thumb traces along his cheekbone, and something cracks open inside of him.

He doesn’t say anything—maybe you see it in his face. You wrap your arms around him and pull him close as he shakes. Breaks. He slips his arms around your waist and buries his face in your neck, and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until it’s too late to stop it.

But all he can think about is being small, in a little brick house, curled up on the couch with his mom. These days, he can’t remember the exact shade of her eyes, or the sound of her laugh, but he remembers her dark curls tickling his cheeks as she peppered kisses across his face. He remembers laughing until his stomach ached. The first time someone loved him—not the way his uncle loves him, or the way his friends do, but really, truly, loved him.

Until now, he wondered if it would be the last.

Something like a sob worms its way up Eddie’s throat, and he swallows it down, hard. He pulls back suddenly, swiping his hands over his eyes and inhaling sharply. He clears his throat.

“Christ, sorry,” he says.

“Sorry? For what?”

“For starters, waking you up in the middle of the night,” he says. “And for weeping like some baby in your arms.”

You smile softly, inclining your head. You flick a strand of hair out of Eddie’s eyes.

“For starters,” you mimic, “I woke you up first.”

Eddie inhales, and when it comes out as more of a sniffle, he wants to dissolve into floor.

“Yeah, well,” he says. “For the second thing, then. If you could forget that ever happened, actually, that’d be fantastic.”

You inspect him for a moment, eyes narrowed.

“Most girls find it attractive when a man cries, you know,” you say, just teasing enough that Eddie allows it. “Or hasn’t someone taught you that yet.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and extricates himself from your arms, but when he tries to pull back, you catch his face in your hands. He could pull away. He doesn’t.

“You can talk to me, you know,” you say. “You’re not going to scare me off.”

Eddie almost lies, but maybe he’s tired of pretending, or just plain tired. So he doesn’t lie.

“It’s this dream. I’m back in that hell-pit, but I can’t move. Can’t scream. I’m gonna die, and I know it.” Eddie shakes his head. “The first time I got arrested, I remember thinking, this is it, Munson, this is the end of the road. You really did it now, man.” He snorts. “I was fifteen, and an idiot, and I got off with some bullshit community service. Like I wasn’t already providing a community service.”

“The friendly, misunderstood, neighborhood drug dealer,” you say.

Eddie smiles. “Basically.”

You lift a brow, urging him to continue.

Eddie swallows and says, “And then, when I was seventeen, I flipped this dirt bike I took way too far out onto the interstate. Got stranded in the middle of nowhere. I thought I was a goner, then, too, but some poor tourist from Bloomington found me, dragged my ass to the closest hospital. And it felt like… I don’t know, like I’d just scraped through.” Eddie clears his throat. “But when we were all down there—when I was—” He stops.

Something bumps his hand, and he glances down just in time to see you threading your fingers through his.

“I was just laying there, dying, and all I could think was, okay, so this is it. The actual end of the goddamn road.” He closes his eyes. “Sometimes, I still feel like I’m there. Like I’ll always be there. Bleeding out in the dirt.”

“But you’re not.”

“You sure about that?” he asks. “Cuz, honestly, some days, I’m not.”

You’re quiet for a long time before you finally speak.

“I’ve been at the end of the road more times than I can count,” you say softly. “But it kept going. It always keeps going.”

“And if it doesn’t?” he asks, cocking a brow.

A tiny, sad smile plays on your lips. “Then you find another one.”

And if Eddie hadn’t already considered that this entire thing was some twisted fantasy conjured by his overtired brain, you lean toward him, and press your lips to his.

He’s so shocked he forgets to move, forgets to breathe, and doesn’t manage to figure it out until a beat after your hands fall from his cheeks and you start to pull back. He takes your chin in his hand, guiding you back to him.

He kisses you like he’s wanted to for two months. Until his lips are numb and you’re both breathing heavy, and all of his nightmares have been lured back into their hiding places. Not forever, but for now, and now is enough.

You end up a pile of tangled limbs and blankets, Eddie’s arms around you and your head pillowed on his chest. He trails a slow finger up and down your forearm.

At some point, he asks, without meaning to, “Is this real?”

You twist in his arms, rolling onto your stomach and propping yourself up on his chest. Your lips curl up in a smile.

“If you want it to be,” you say.

Eddie grins. “No complaints here.”

You laugh, and take one of his curls between your fingers, wrapping it once, twice, three times around your knuckle. You lift your eyes to his, suddenly serious.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Eddie’s stomach flips, though he isn’t sure why. He nods.

You hesitate. Swallow. Say, quickly, “I think I might be in love with you.”

Eddie feels like his chest cracks wide open. He rolls through a dozen things to say, before settling for the copout.

“You think?”

You huff a laugh. “Fine. I definitely am, but I’m trying not to—”

“Scare me off?”

You shrug.

Eddie’s smile widens, and he finally understand the sentiment of smiling so hard it hurts. Of happiness being so big that it’s painful.

“In case you were curious,” Eddie says. “I’m definitely in love with you.” Love. It’s been so long since he said the word, it tastes unfamiliar, but he doesn’t mind it. Might even like it.

“You better be,” you say. “Or this was about to get really awkward.”

Eddie laughs, and kisses you once, twice, three times, until you’re laughing, too. And even though the lights are off, Eddie swears his room has never been brighter.

taglist: @milkiane

#Brooke writes fic #Eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #x reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst

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bluetooththereptile · 2 years

Text

Unwelcomed embrace

Yandere super family x neglected reader

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: Well since apprently you guys enjoy reading angst and neglect related fics,I've thought of making one for super family! If you guys like it there's the chance of making another part for this one as well!

Summary: As a not so hostile hero you are trying to find your place amongst other heros, but apprently going to higher rankes needs a veteran's support, but you are alone, and it's the reason why your wishes will be turned down. This makes you to lash out and start an storm that shakes your whole life!

Tw: mentions of past abuse and neglect and anger issues

"For God's sake Bart, can you stop babbling for a second?" You snapped at the flash boy, making him close his jaw quickly, looking away. Kaldur arched his brow at you, you were more snappy than usual, there must have been something in your mind that was bothering you, he knew something was wrong but didn't acknowledge it, pressing further would have resulted in an angrier you and a huge mess, he didn’t want that, especially now that you were in the justice palace.

You tapped your feet nervously as you tried to listen to the conversation going on in the meeting room, but the advanced technology on its walls muffled every sound and this made your mood even worse, making you furrow your brows deeply as you scowled, every second that passed more people around you stepped away, not wanting to get involved in your ranting. As a hero, you were known for your problematic anger issues, and if it wasn't for your efficient way of working and powers, you wouldn't be in the league at all, "We need protectors, not warriors!" Batman once had yelled at you when you had thrown a whole truck filled with criminals down the cliff, thankfully superman was there to take the truck, speaking of superman...he was in the meeting room as well, making you even more anxious, something told you that your hopes were going to be put down.

You took in a deep breath, trying to not think about negative things too much, you were going to become a superhero, there wouldn't be anything against that right? Minus those numerous records of destruction and disobedience of course. But there wouldn't be a problem if a veteran took you in, looking after you for a while so you wouldn't make more problems, but that was where your real concerns laid, none of them liked you. Your reputation as the illegitimate child of superman didn't help you that much, your mother's infamous deeds rubbed off his good name and presented you as a threat, your behavior didn't help much, for a person that was into plants you were too angry, always expecting something from the world you were born into by Poison Ivy, aka, your sweet mother.

She was so sweet that she left you behind, putting you in Superman's arms as a "gift". But Clark was already building up his own family, dating Lios Lane...he couldn't have a child out of nowhere from a "forced" affair pop into his life and ruin everything. You were not wanted by anyone, and your life seemed pointless at the age of just 11 days old. Clark couldn't let you go through the normal adoption process, no normal family would take a half Kryptonian, half magical nymph into their home, so he decided to give his green child a chance, he decided to let Lois know about you, so she could take care of you, but what a young busy woman without any experience with babies can do with a baby that has special powers? The whole thing was doomed to end in disaster.

At just 6 months old, finally, Clark gave you up for adoption services, you were not made to be in his family, your constant screams, crying, and need for attention annoyed the couple, but now that you thought about it, apparently Lois did not like to have the child of another woman in a crib, next to her bed, you were proof of her lover's affair and she didn't like that at all, and Clark, he was ashamed of having you around for obvious reasons. So you were given up, like a piece of furniture. Months later, When Lois's job crisis ended, she'd come to her senses, it was not your fault that you were born that way, but it was too late...you were given to a family already. But Clark could come and take you away! But he didn't.

It was nice, at least for some years, that your parents kept up with you, knowing your situation. Your mother loved plants and you would pop a rose for her daily, to see her smile, and her smile brightened your small heart. Your father, a strict but kind man, loved his wife, and seeing her happy made him feel good as well, so you, the reason for her happiness, were precious to him. Until the day your mother died in an accident, and your father went into depression. His friends introduced him to liquor and well...let's just say it didn't end in something good. Your anxiety and anger issues were the results of your father's abuse. It turned so bad that you left home at the age of 15, flying away to find your real father.

You were smart, you could see your powers were familiar with someone else's, superman, that was why you decided on following him around, only to find out his true identity, and where he lived. But it was not like how you had imagined, your real father, Clark, had a son of his own now, and his family seemed so happy, you felt by showing up you'd ruin their happiness, but you decided on knocking on the door in the end, you couldn't deny yourself, you needed love and happiness as well!

But you were not greeted warmly. "Tell that woman I don't want to do anything with her!" Clark said as he pushed you away from the door frame so Lois couldn't see you. "B-but my mother is dead!" You said, now shivering, your green skin not showing how pale you were, your foster father was a scary man, but the man of steel was much more terrifying. Clark didn't believe you, he had been manipulated before, and a teenager was not going to fool him again. So you have pushed away, now being on your own.

Life was not easy on you at all. That was why you decided to become a hero so you could be great, so you could be heard and seen, you saw all of those magazines and headlines of superheroes, and you wanted to be like them, you wanted to be loved again, but the world was not going to show it's a good side to you.

The door of the meeting room opened, and members of the justice league walked out one by one, you tried your best to not jump in and ask about the result, looking desperately to batman as he walked toward you and other members of the young justice league. "The chosen one this time will be Red Robin." Tim smiled in disbelief as others cheered for him, but you felt as if your whole world crashed down on you. What? After all of that effort, you had put into getting close to wonder woman now this was what you were getting?

You approached Diana "This is not what we had made a deal on!" You said not so calmly "You are not ready." Diana said, making you groan "I've passed every damned test you had set up for me...now you are telling me I am not ready?" Diana sighed "You have to work on your anger management Y/N, your record is not clear enough!" You scoffed "It's not that! You all just want me to stay in the lower league to use me!" You yelled, now getting everyone's attention "You are all just a bunch of pricks that care about your friendships more than people's worth! Red Robin was chosen because he's Bateman's son, no one wants to have me here!"

"Come on Y/N, don't whine like little kids!" Conner said, making you glare at him "You shut up clone!" You insulted him, now saying what was in your mind for a long time, Conner's existence angered you to no end, Clark had taken his clone in, but not you! Why? He even had taken in a piece of dumb meat named Bizzaro and not you! Why? WHY? The question circled in your mind as your eyes found superman, who was looking at the whole ordeal with a worried look. Since the time you had joined in, he always was worried, he now could see the errors of what he had done, but it was too late...too late.

You punched Conner in the face, still not having the courage to attack Clark himself, so you took it upon his son's anger making you see red. Conner attacked you as well and soon you two were a bloody mess, punching each other, Conner was taken back by your friends as you were put down with help of Diana and Bruce. "You are suspended Y/N!" Bruce said "I don't fucking care!" You hissed, the taste of your blood on your tongue, as you were taken away, your powers suppressed with the use of kryptonate.

.....

"What do you want?" You mumbled as you saw Superman's large frame in the shadows, you tried to make yourself steady, your mind being not in the right state since you had inhaled too much pollen, trying to take your misery away, your foster father's impression on you still followed you in your late teen years. "Y/N, we can talk...you are taking it so hard on yourself!" Clark walked closer to you, now giving up his attention, fully. You couldn't help but chuckle at that as you tried to make yourself stay steady, you were out of the league for six months now, this time was enough for Clark and his family to realize your situation, you were giving up everything you had built for years.

"I don't care!" You said, chuckling bitterly as you sniffled more pollen, your vision turning blur. Clark reached out to you, but you refused his touch. "I wanted to be great...and I will be...just wait and see...I will be...one way or another!" Clark thought of what you were saying as result of the pollen drug but he didn't know what was in your mind "Y/N, you're not in the best condition to talk, let's get you somewhere safe so you can take that stuff out of your system!"

"No touching!" You slapped his hand away as you sat on a bench, the bushes around you slowly engulfing your body, Clark watched this and it felt like you were fading away "We'll meet again Superman..."your middle finger raised to let him know what you thought of him, and it was not good, at all. You'd meet him soon...

#yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere superman #yandere clark kent #yandere dc #neglected reader #yandere jon kent #yandere conner kent #yandere karen starr #yandere kara zor el #yandere lois lane #yandere bizzaro #yandere krypto

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emmaelix · 2 years

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Hi!

I was wondering if you could do either some more Domestic! Mha boys headcanons, or maybe a dad! Kirishima.

Of course! I love getting requests. I'll do some headcanons here, and tag you on any future Domestic! MHA posts! :)

Ships: Kirishima x fem! reader, Denki x fem! reader, Bakugo x fem! reader, Shinsou x fem! reader, Todoroki x fem! reader, and Deku x fem! reader. Let me know if I missed any of your favorites, and I'll gladly do a part two.

TW: Mentions of trouble conceiving, labor

Rock Hard: AKA Eijiro Kirishima

Kiri, my beautiful, lovely baby is the most amazing dad.

Fight me, bitch.

His kids are super well-behaved and get a ton of attention from dad. He's the kind of dad who's going to come to his kid's school to drop off lunch in his Pro Hero outfit because he knows his kids love to see it.

Girl dad. Three kids, two with black hair, one with your color hair. (If your hair is black ignore that) Absolutely whipped for his princesses.

Tea parties once a month with your youngest, tree climbing with your middle daughter, and your eldest gets to do his makeup.

Of course, this has led to issues. Such as Kiri going to interviews and fighting villains wearing - to name a few - pink tutus, blue eyeshadow, the world's brightest blue lipstick, a blonde wig, and a red dress.

One particular day that still mortifies Kirishima to think about happened when your oldest was about nine. She's a daddy's girl and looks just like him without the red hair. She also loves the color coral, which clashes terribly with Eiji's red hair.

She had put pink and coral makeup all over his face while he was taking a nap, and he didn't realize he had on makeup until he had frantically driven halfway to his interview so he wouldn't be late.

To top off this horrific day, the interviewer hadn't been able to stop laughing long enough to ask him anything other than, "Who the hell did that?"

But he loves his girls and would do anything for them.

Electric Love: AKA Denki Kaminari

Pikachu over here is an absolute softy for his kids.

He has thirteen-year-old twins. A boy and a girl. He loves them equally and showers praise on them at all times.

Both have bright yellow hair and fairly similar quirks to their dad. But what really makes everyone around them know, 'yep, those are Kaminari's', is when they goof off.

Now, Kami's funny story is fairly recent.

His daughter got her period a few months ago, and he, being the idiotic but loveable trainwreck he is, called you because he thought your daughter was dying.

"Doctor Kaminari Y/n speaking, how may I help you?"

"Y/n! I think Yukina's dying! She and Seiko got home from school and she was bleeding. From... there."

You could hear your husband hyperventilating on the other end of the phone. "Kami, she got her period, she's not dying. Bring her over to the hospital in your car, I took the train to work today so we can stop at the store to get Yuki some pads or tampons, depending on what she wants, and we'll go by her favorite Ramen place to grab supper when my shift ends."

You could hear Seiko telling his younger sister it'd be okay. You and Denki had raised them right.

Although how you'd never know.

Blast 'em With Kindness: AKA Katsuki Bakugo

In case you couldn't tell, that title is sarcastic.

Just like Bakugo and his eight-year-old. You could look at that little girl and think she was Mitsuki in disguise. Your daughter, Kiko, was not an only child, but she was your only child who looked like you and Katsuki.

You and Katsuki had wanted a big family since you had both been only children. But only one of your four kids was actually yours. You had a condition called PCOS, which had made it incredibly difficult to get pregnant with Kiko.

So you had adopted your two oldest, and your youngest, having Kiko in between.

Bakugo gets asked about his family every time someone sees him.

Your eldest, at least in adoptive order, Mana, is very enthusiastic since you adopted her when she was only a year old, not old enough to remember much other than her adoptive parents.

However, Imani, your second, and actually the oldest, had been adopted at age six from an African orphanage while you were pregnant with Kiko. So Imani was a bit shy, with her favorite uncle being Tamaki Amajiki or Suneater, since he was also socially awkward.

Since three of your kids are adopted, Bakugo loves to cook with his kids. Especially so that Imani can be connected to her heritage.

Kiko is sarcastic, and practically a tiny version of her grandmother, just without as many violent tendencies.

And your youngest, Tetsu, was hardened against many things with three older sisters. You hadn't chosen his name, but you found it hilarious that one of your husband's high school 'friends' was named Tetsutetsu, making him a favorite hero of your sons.

Bakugo's soft around his 'brats' (he calls them angels when they aren't looking), but don't tell anyone or you'll be against a wall with explosions very close to your throat very quickly.

Enthraller of Minds: AKA Hitoshi Shinsou

While Hitoshi loves his kids, none of them were planned.

Your first child, your now sixteen-year-old son Yamato was the result of a very drunk night full of poor decisions.

Your twelve-year-old daughter, Nara, happened because you forgot a week of birth control.

And your nine-year-old son, Shouta, was the result of a business trip where you packed your very tight skirt. He was named after Hitoshi's adoptive father due to some circumstances. (meaning Aizawa helped deliver Shinsou baby #3)

All three of your kids are very mild-mannered, and very sleep-deprived, just like their mom and dad.

Since both you and Hitoshi are Pro Heroes, your kids see 'Grampa Shou' a lot. Aizawa doesn't mind.

Shinsou was worried his kids would get his quirk and be made fun of like he was. But even though both Yamato and Nara got their father's quirk, neither was bullied or teased like he was in school.

Your youngest has a fairly weak quirk, so his older brother and sister stand up for him a lot.

But overall you're a very happy family. And Shinsou couldn't be prouder.

Half 'n' Half Espresso: AKA Shoto Todoroki

His nicknames for his children: Pumpkin Bug. Sakura. Sweetheart. Deli (don't ask)

His children's nicknames for him in the same order: Espresso man, Cool Dad, Daddio, and Karaoke Wonder (also don't ask).

Pumpkin Bug/Espresso man comes from your oldest daughter, Niko.

Sakura/Cool Dad comes from your middle daughter, Sara.

Sweetheart/Daddio comes from your youngest daughter, Kasumi.

Deli/Karaoke Wonder comes from your son, Hotaru.

Since you and your husband are Pro Heroes your kids spend a lot of time with Aunt Fuyumi and Uncle Natsuo. Not that they mind.

Endeavor once asked why he's never asked to babysit, but he's never asked since.

"Because you gave my husband severe emotional trauma, you turned your son into a villain, and you don't care about your other two children unless they did something wrong! You're never getting close to my kids until I'm dead and buried, but by then they'll have their own reasons to hate you."

Ouch.

But Sho does try to be accepting of his father, even though Endeavor is never allowed around his children without either you or your husband supervising.

Kasumi loves her aunt and uncle the most, though. She's the weakest of your four kids, although she was still able to beat her younger brother in a fight at the age of eleven.

Sara and Niko are definitely the most powerful, but Shoto made sure that all his kids knew they were loved and that how powerful they were didn't matter to him.

And his kids love to walk around using their quirks in front of their grandfather just to piss Endeavor off.

Sho loves his kids.

Like Mother Like Son: AKA Izuku Midoriya

Broccoli boy absolutely loves his daughters. His younger daughter, Mayumi, likes to have tea parties, while Seiko, his older daughter, loves to spar with him and test out her quirk.

He fanboys with his daughters about All Might, showing them all his merch + that limited edition poster Nighteye had.

He also enjoys arranging playdates with his friend's kids and making sure his daughters know that they are loved no matter what.

Seiko, who is fifteen, recently got into her first relationship. With Tetsu Bakugo.

Izuku was excited his daughter had a boyfriend, and while Bakugo didn't care that his daughter was dating someone (too much), he certainly hated the fact it was Midoriya's daughter.

"DEKU! Your daughter is dating my son!" Bakugo screamed into the phone as Izuku flinched away from it.

"Well, Kacchan, I can't pick who my daughter likes!"

You especially were pissed. Not because Seiko was dating Tetsu Bakugo, but because of how two grown men who were both Pro Heroes were acting because their kids were in a relationship.

No doubt about it, these girls love to play pranks on their dad.

The last time this happened Nara Shinsou also got involved, along with Niko, Sara, and Kasumi Todoroki.

We won't get into details, but let's just say all of them were grounded for a while.

I hope you enjoyed these, and I think I might do some more family things, especially with Sho and his kids pissing off Endeavor.

#deku x reader #domestic mha fluff #mha headcanons #my hero academia #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shoto x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugo x reader #denki x reader #dad! bakugo katsuki x reader #dad! shoto todoroki #dad! hitoshi shinsou #dad! denki kaminari #dad! izuku midoriya #dad! eijirou kirishima #Elix does requests

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onyourowndaisymae · 11 months

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Hello! If possible, could I request the Obey Me brothers + dateables and their reactions to an MC with dyscalculia? If not, it's totally fine!! I hope you've an awesome week <3 !!

obey me brothers + an mc with dyscalculia (pt. 1)

in order to get shit out in even a remotely timely manner, i've decided to now and in the future start splitting asks into two individual posts based on character group (brothers vs dateables/side characters). it was between that and shortening the posts and since i'd rather bite my own fingers off than put out content i'm not proud of, this is my solution! so let's call this part 1 to this ask. also sorry it takes me obscenely long to post i am a mess

content warnings: none

"Dyscalculia is a learning disorder that affects a person's ability to do math. Much like dyslexia disrupts areas of the brain related to reading, dyscalculia affects brain areas that handle math- and number-related skills and understanding." - Cleveland Clinic

Lucifer

lucifer is such a dad about this, like i cannot express this enough.

he knows you have dyscalculia before you even arrive in the devildom. he sees it on your paperwork before they pull you from the human realm, so he's already preparing the best strategies to assist you. he will, however, wait until you say something about it to make that information known.

he will make you bring your math homework to his office every night so he can check it. that is not optional. he doesn't care how much you hate it, because at the end of the day you need to pass. tough love, in a sense.

but, on that same note-- he's not actually mean about correcting your work. it's very odd. you'd expect big, bad, "i'll string mammon up from the ceiling on any given day" ass lucifer would be a brutal teacher, but he's really not. he knows that you brain simply does not work the same way as others, so he's extra particular about his explanations. he doesn't ever call you out in a way that makes you feel stupid. this proud demon never wants to make you embarrassed over something you can't control.

ideally, you'll come around on doing homework in his office every night. he thinks this is the perfect choice for both of you. his office is quiet and warm, with the soothing sounds of a crackling fire comforting you as you work. he can make sure any distractions (aka, his brothers) are completely out of sight until you're finished for the night. he'll also be right there in case you need any help-- he'll drop whatever he's doing and help until you're sure you've got the problem down.

lucifer is protective of this time together. it's the one time where he's certain he can do more for you than the rest of his brothers, and he's determined to prove you won't ever need to turn to them for help.

if you get overwhelmed with your homework, he's easy on you for the rest of the night. lucifer knows when to call it quits-- he'll slide your homework away across the desk and set a reassuring hand on your back. he doesn't speak as you get all your frustrations out, whether they be tears or anger. it's easy to forget that lucifer is actually an older brother. but in moments like these, full of quiet comfort as he carefully works you down from the ledge, you think maybe he's not so intimidating after all.

Mammon

oh, you're not good with math? join the club, bestie.

mammon takes an embarrassing amount of time to realize that you've got dyscalculia. like, a near impossible amount of time. you're not hiding this information from him. he's seen lucifer help you with your math homework, heard you talk about special accommodations for tests, hell, you've even said it aloud! this man would lose a spelling bee to a box of bricks.

you eventually ask him if he knows what dyscalculia is. he tries to play it off like he knows, but of course, he's not a great actor. you let him flounder for a little bit before choosing mercy and explaining the concept to him. it takes him a bit to understand that it's an actual learning disorder and you're not just making shit up to explain why you suck at math.

mammon prefers when you do homework together. in his head, he justifies this by saying he'll be close by when if you need his help. in reality, he'd probably do more harm than good to your grade. he spends most nights trying to coax you into working on homework in his room. at the very least, he'll be able to spend some alone time with you

reality is often disappointing. you do actually spend most nights doing your math homework together... at the kitchen table, while lucifer sits between you two and makes sure you get your work done in a timely manner. no talking, mammon, or he'll hang you from the stairwell by your ankles.

don't ask him for help. just... don't. you'll honestly do worse than if you had just tried yourself.

if you get overwhelmed trying to do your work with dyscalculia, mammon is right there by your side. you won't be doing anymore work tonight, that's for sure. he'll pull you into his arms, red-faced and sheepish, as he soothes your frustrations with gentle, murmured affirmations. you are so much more than this math shit, alright? don't forget it.

Leviathan

levithan simply won't pick up on something as subtle as your difficulty with numbers. even if he notices it, he'd never say anything. what if he's wrong? what if you feel bad about it? what if he offers to help you with that math homework you're struggling with three feet in front of him and you hate him for it? oh god, maybe he should mind his own business. what if he's making all these assumptions about you-- assumptions that you'd hate him for? he can't handle if you-- oh, what? you want to talk about it with him? haha, no worries. totally chill. levi's nothing if not totally chill.

you have to tell levi about your dyscalculia if you ever want him to know, or at least tell one of his more loose-lipped brothers. he's willing to talk about it if you are. but no matter how close you are, he would never bring it up first.

he's got passable grades. he'd probably do better if he applied himself, but honestly, he's far too interested in throwing himself into another anime or video game to dedicate much brain space to school. if you want to do homework with him, he'll probably opt to play a game on some handheld next to you to keep you company. he's extra considerate to keep his headphones on and stay quiet for you. he's just honored you want to spend time with him like this.

you want levi to help you with homework? are you sure? you don't want one of his smarter brothers, like satan or belphie or-- you're sure you want him? he's not convinced he's stellar at tutoring or anything, but he'll try. he brings out his own (rushed) homework and explains his thought process to you... funnily enough, helping you points out the flaws in how own work, which he can now fix before turning it in. helping you has quiet literally raised his grades in the long run.

if you get overwhelmed, levi is quick to panic. please don't cry. his best solution is to distract you. wanna watch him beat this level? wanna start an anime together to take your mind off of it? you guys end up wasting the rest of the night recreating the HoL and demon brothers in the devildom equivalent of the sims. so much for raising your grades together... lucifer is not happy hearing how easily both of you got distracted (but lets it slide when he realizes it was math homework you skipped).

Satan

satan is an observant fellow. he probably knows within your first month at RAD that you've got an issue with numbers. he might not know the exact diagnosis, but he can tell you're not nearly as confident with math as you are in other subjects. he notices you're more dodgy about anything to do with numbers. he had not intention to bother you about it, of course, but he'll watch with a bit of curiosity as you encounter these sort of situations-- he doesn't understand you, after all, and he wants to know why.

by the time you guys are on friendly terms, he'll offer to help you with any homework you might struggle with. satan gives no indication that he knows you're not the most confident in math. while he hates lucifer, satan still knows the value of pride and dignity in these situations. he waits until you approach him one night for help-- bashful, a little ashamed, all interesting emotions for him to witness up close-- and carefully guides you through the work. that's when he sees it. you have an odd way of interacting with numbers. there he notices little mess ups when counting, longer pauses mid-equation, how quiet you are as he helps you out... interesting. guess he'll have to keep assisting you for now.

when you do eventually tell him, he... i mean he basically flat out tells you he knew from the moment he watched you solve a math problem. hopefully that explanation doesn't upset you. it's just facts. one time you had to pay for something at a festival stall in cash... watching you try to calculate the combination of coins and bills you should hand over was painful.

he doesn't really mind accommodating your dyscalculia. you, at least, aren't just a dumbass with no explanation (like mammon, he's talking about mammon). satan will usually ask if you want his help before stepping in, out of courtesy, but usually prefers to handle number-related tasks himself. it just goes faster.

if you get overwhelmed with your homework, you'll see satan get really confused. he didn't think it was something that could upset you in that way. he'd sooner expect you to get pissed off and storm out, y'know? that he can relate to. he'll follow your lead on this one. what would make you feel better? if you want to power through, he'll do his best to explain everything as simply as possible. if not, he'll do something with you to take your mind off of everything.

Asmodeus

it's easy to write asmodeus off as some sort of surface-level ditz, but that's truly a disservice to the bubbly demon. he's still one of the most powerful demons in the whole realm, after all. but he's always been good at picking up those small details-- your dyscalculia is something that stumps him for awhile, but eventually, he figures out something is up.

the main problem is shopping. he'll often drag you along with him to majolish, either as a pack mule to carry his things or as a lovely little doll to try on every outfit combo his pretty little head can put together. the real issue came about as he tried to get your help calculating a running total for the items in his arms. see, asmo is quite good with numbers (new headcanon alert? honestly i'm into it i now declare asmo's a secret lil math whiz). so as he's adding up the prices, he'll shout numbers at you from another changing room and ask you for help. what's $74.36 + 189.20? quickly! oh, too late, he's got it. will you remember $263.56? now say that back to him?

when you inevitably stumble through every single number-related task, even just counting certain things in the bag, asmodeus realizes that maybe you're just not that good with numbers. not in the way that mammon is, that's just general stupidity (so mean!), but in a way unlike you are with anything else. eventually he'll stop handing off number-related tasks to you and take a couple extra seconds to do it anyways.

asmo would help you with homework, but that requires doing his own homework, you see. and considering the fact that his nails are wet AND the devildom culture reading sounds boring as hell... he doesn't have any plans to do it. in fact, he'll calculate just what assignments he can skip while still passing. if he's not going to do his homework, he'll at least keep you company while you do yours! expect quite humming as he scrolls through social media next to you.

on the rare occasion that he does in fact do his work, asmo is more than willing to help you with your math homework! he does, however, have a system. first of all, you guys are studying in his room with the door closed. not to hide anything from the others-- unless you'd like to take advantage of the closed door?-- but to keep his brothers from interrupting you. then the two of you will spread out on his floor or his bed and get to work. if you help him with devildom history, he'll gladly help you with math!

if you get overwhelmed by your math homework, asmodeus is quick to ditch school work for the rest of the evening. honestly he didn't want to do it either! he's almost excited to be there by your side and comforting you-- in part because it's him you're asking for comfort and not his brothers, and in part because he gets the chance to charm you with one of his greatest strengths: hospitality! expect an evening of pampering with no expectation of reciprocation. he enjoys running you a bath (won't even joke about joining you... this time), doing your skincare, painting your nails... it's your call. he just can't wait to take your mind off of the stress and remind you just how wonderful you are.

Beelzebub

beelzebub doesn't even come close to finding out about your dyscalculia until you tell him. he thinks watching people work is a little rude, and he's usually too busy snacking, or thinking about snacking, or planning his next food order, or-- you get the picture. and even if he did notice you struggling, he'd kindly turn the other cheek to give you privacy. he might mention something to belphie later, considering how smart his twin is and all, but it's always out of a place of genuine concern and care for you. beel is trusts you to respect your own limits and, if you want him to know about your struggles, to approach him when you're ready.

beel is the type to have a structured homework routine. he just gets too distracted when left to his own devices! his stomach can lead him to the wildest of places. beel goes to the same spot in his room every night with a mountain of snacks and gets to work. belphie is usually somewhere in the room to "supervise", mainly acting to keep his twin on task when his brain goes into overdrive. no beel, you didn't miss fangol practice. it was cancelled tonight because of the weather. is lucifer making dinner toni-- i don't know who's on dinner duty. no, don't go check. beel.

if you're joining him to actually do your work, belphie is thankful. you essentially take over his job of "beel wrangler" and allow him to sleep peacefully nearby. if you're there to be a distraction, it's only a matter of time until you're either wrangled yourself (much to belphie's irritation) or shooed out of the room until beel finishes his work.

tutoring from beel is really collaborative. you tackle each question together, one at a time, until the assignment is complete. he wants to hear how your brain processes the question-- learning difficulty and all-- then he'll share his thoughts. somewhere in there the two of you will usually find the right answer. if not, belphie's always willing to try to help the two of you.

if you get overwhelmed with your math homework, beel is quick to comfort you. what can he do to help? he's got some snacks if that would take your mind off of things. actually, these are new ones from the convenience store across town. in a couple of minutes, you're playing a devildom version (and surprisingly tamer, considering this is supposed to be hell and all) version of beanboozled. beel never guesses a flavor incorrectly. eventually you and belphie are just feeding a blindfolded beel jellybeans and watching him guess each and every flavor correctly. at least you're not struggling with your work anymore!

Belphegor

belphie, after sitting in his assigned seat next to you for exactly one (1) math class, asks if you've always struggle with numbers. blunt but to the point, i guess? he doesn't mean to be offensive or anything, but he's not going to sugarcoat it, either. he noticed you were struggling keeping up with the notes. you're welcome to borrow his if you need to.

(i feel the need to note here that belphie's notetaking is ass. he's on the verge of passing out each class period, so all of his work is slanted heavily and mostly undecipherable. it's a shame, really, because he's got good handwriting when he's awake).

he's found most often in his room or the attic curled up among the blankets. because they assume he's asleep, wherever belphie is tends to be a good study spot. sometimes he'll beckon you to join him on the bed as he tries to distract you encourages you to pace yourself. other times he's fast asleep with the lights on, leaving you to your studies on the floor or at a nearby desk/table.

if you specifically request his tutoring, he'll make time for you. sure, he'll probably be half asleep and will appear in your room to help at an odd hour between naps, but he'll be sure to come. the problem is that his "tutoring" is mostly him just telling you the answers. if you're cool with this, great! if not, he's a bit less helpful. it's best to just use him as one would the answers section at the back of the textbook to check if you found the right result and, if not, as a resource to work backwards and find your mistake.

if you get overwhelmed with your math work while doing homework in belphegor's room, he immediately suggests a break to help calm you back down. unfortunately, this is the avatar of sloth we're discussing-- any break he suggests will most definitely turn into a distraction that stops any and all progress for the rest of the night. honestly? sometimes that's what you need. sometimes you know you're going to stress beyond the point of improvement, and those nights need to be stopped before you crash. his first suggestion will always be to curl up together to take a nap. if you're interested, you should be aware that the "nap" will not end until the next morning. if you decide to be responsible and veto that plan, then you will probably both curl up to watch a movie-- your pick-- and spend the rest of the night far, far away from any math homework that'll stress you out further.

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