#and then as i was leaving the gym i spilled my water bottle down into my bag and onto all of my stuff but it didn’t matter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-froschamethyst4 · 6 months

Text

My Gym Rat Husband

𖤐Pairing: Gym Rat! Soap x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, kissing/making out, some smut, slight arguing, language, fingering, eating out, P in V, make up sex, blowjob, quick face sitting

𖤐Summary: Soap likes the gym a little more than coming home, he thinks he needs to keep being buff for his wife Y/n, but Y/n doesn't need him to be buff, he needs him to be home with her.

——————

——————

Soap woke up at his usual time at 4 in the morning to get ready for the gym, this is his morning routine, wake up at 4 in the morning, get his gym clothes on, make a pre-workout smoothy, and then leave the house by 4:30 to get to the gym and he sometimes doesn't come home till 12 in the afternoon.

Y/n always wakes up to an empty bed instead of looking at her husband. She liked seeing him asleep in the bed but when he got a gym membership, he's gone in the morning.

Y/n woke up to the birds singing and the sun coming into the bedroom, she rubbed her eyes and looked to her right not seeing her husband like usual.

She moved the covers off her body and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Once she was out, she grabbed some sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. She headed downstairs to make herself some coffee, grabbing her favorite mug and pouring in the good morning mud in her mug.

As she grabbed her creamer from the fridge her hand touched something powdery, she rubbed her fingers knowing it was Soap's pre-workout powder.

"Every time," she says. It's true Soap will sometimes spill his workout powder on the counter and not clean it up and Y/n will have to do it.

She grabbed a towel and placed her hand just under the counter making sure to catch the powder, so it doesn't land on the floor causing more of a mess.

She tosses her rag in the laundry room and washed her hands, she went to the living room and turned on the TV and watched the News, as she placed her mug down, she also tripped over Soap's other workout shoes.

She groans and kicks them away from her feet and the couch.

"Come on, Soap," she groans.

---------

Soap was bench pressing and Ghost and Price were spotting him.

"So, how's the married life treating you, Soap?" Price asked.

"Great," he said, through huffs.

"Really?" Ghost said.

"Yeah...why?"

"No reason," Soap placed the weights on the bars and sat up.

"Is marriage supposed to be tough?"

"It can be," Price said.

"I think it's easy."

"Does Y/n do all the work?" Ghost said.

"A bit-"

"Ahh~ there it is," Price said.

"What?" Soap asked.

"Help her Soap...she can't be doing all the work around the house; I know you two don't have kids or anything...but help her out, Soap, that poor woman probably does the most in that house," Price said as Soap rubbed the back of his neck.

"I guess, I should help her."

"Should? You need to, happy wife happy life," Ghost said, crossing his arms and looking at his friend.

"When was the last time you helped her?"

"Umm-"

"If you are having to think, it's been a while then," Price said.

"Why are you two bring this up?" Soap asked.

----------

12:00PM

Y/n cleaned the hard wooden floors, there were so many scratches and dirt on the floor, she cleaned around and even cleaned the marble counter tops and even the stainless-steel fridge and dishwasher.

She wiped the sweat from her brow as popped her neck from looking down for so long. She cleared her throat and continued cleaning around the house.

She stopped when she heard the front door shut and keys drop on the ceramic bowl by the front door.

"BABY!" Soap called for his wife. Y/n stood up from behind the counter making Soap turn to her. "Oh, hey, whatcha doing?" He asked.

"Cleaning," she huffs. "The house is a fucking wreck," she said, going back down and cleaning the dishwasher.

"Are you stressed?"

"Huh?"

"You clean when you're stressed, so, are you?" He asked, putting his water bottle in the sink.

"No, I'm not, it's just a mess," she said, scrubbing at the steel.

"Love," Soap looked down at her.

"What?" She asked.

He grabs her wrist making her stop. "Let me help you clean."

"I don't need help right now."

"Love-"

"I'm fine, Soap, let me clean up," she said, jerking her hand away.

"Baby, let me help you," Soap's voice was a little louder.

"I don't need help, I don't need your help," she raised her voice like him.

She tossed down the rag on the counter and walked away holding her head. Soap groaned and took the rag to pick up where she left off. Y/n went to the bathroom to calm her nerves. She never really got mad at Soap and didn't want to say anything she could possibly regret.

Y/n later went back out and looked for Soap seeing him clean, she grabbed a rag and went to the guest bathroom to clean. Soap could feel the energy had changed shifting from an anxious wife to an annoyed wife.

He stops cleaning and tosses the dirty rag in the laundry room and put the cleaning spray back under the sink. He changed out of his gym clothes and took a quick shower.

After the shower and getting better, clean and comfortable clothes on, he saw her in the guest bedroom and then went to go get some tea.

Y/n was fixing the bed and didn't hear her husband come in, she was done and bumped into Soap spilling the tea all over him.

"Soap!"

"Don't you fucking Soap me, I was trying to bring you something to drink."

"Why were you quiet?!"

"I WAS TRYING TO DO SOMETHING NICE!"

"WELL, I'M TRYING TO CLEAN, STAY OUT OF MY WAY, GO BACK TO THE GYM OR GO SIT ON THE COUCH AND WATCH TV, JUST STAY OUT OF MY WAY, PLEASE!" Y/n yelled as Soap rolled his eyes and took off his shirt.

He got a new shirt on and then headed downstairs to watch TV like his wife asked him to do as Y/n scrubbed the rug to get the tea out of the carpet.

Y/n felt her blood boil, but she knows Soap was just trying to be nice, Soap was usually at the gym so much that he hardly ever done anything nice for her.

She sat on her knees after getting the tea out of the carpet, rubbing her neck again and getting up off the floor.

"Soap-"

"What?!" He sounded annoyed.

She stood in front of the TV and looked at him, he tried to move around trying to stare at the TV, but she was in the way. She grabbed the helm of her shirt and lifted it over her head and exposed her bare breasts to him and her nipples were perked.

"W-What are you doing?" Soap asked.

"I..." she tossed her shirt and started to untie the jaw strings of her sweatpants and pulled them down exposed her cute lace underwear.

"Y/n," he said.

"I'm sorry for yelling."

"And this is how you are going to repay me-no, no, I need to repay you," he quickly was following Y/n's suit stripping from his clothes except for his boxers and standing up.

He made his way towards Y/n kissing her lips and his hands going to her ass and squeezing her.

She moans into the kiss as his hands kneaded her butt, her hands were trapped between both of their chests, her eyes were closed taking in this moment as Soap picks her up.

Her legs and arms instinctively wrap around him as he walks to the bedroom, shutting the door with his foot and plopping his small wife on the soft King-Sized bed.

"S-Soap."

"Let me...take care of you..." he says crawling above her kissing her lips, her hands cupping his face, his fingers touched her wet folds, his fingers hooked on her panties and pulled them down.

He then shoved two fingers inside of her. She moans and grips his hair and the sheets beneath her. He moves his mouth from her lips, and he looked down at his fingers moving fast inside of her lower half.

"Ahh~ S-Soap," she moans catching his attention to look at her.

"Does it f-feel good, my love?"

"Y-Y-Yes," she moans.

He smirks and kisses her lips; his fingers were removed from her wet clit, and he goes down kissing her chest, stomach and her inner thighs, he smirks and licks between her folds.

"Ahh~ h-holy shit," she moans, he pulls her up, he sits up her legs on his shoulders and her back was on the bed. His tongue glides over her wet folds and shoves her tongue inside of her, she moans and grips the bedsheets under her.

Her thighs squeeze on his head, and he moans loving the feeling of her thighs wanting to pop his head.

"Ahh~ Ahhh~" she moans.

He moves his tongue and then drops her butt back on their shared bed and he pulled his boxers off his lower half, his dick sprung out hitting his lower stomach, she smiled at his dick and crawled towards him.

She touched his toned lower stomach and then his hardened dick she touched his tip and smiled up at him before taking his dick into her mouth. She started to bob her head up and down moaning and he gripped her hair pulling her off him.

"No, no, my love...this is your day, not mine," he said, pushing her back on the bed and pushing himself inside of her.

"Ahh~ b-but why?"

"Because you've d-done so much for me t-that I don't treat you like a Queen...you're not happy..." he said, cupping her chin to get her to look up at him.

"I-I am happy, S-Soap."

"How? I don't show it," he said.

"You do...you come...come home to...m-me," she said through moans.

"But...we've...we've almost g-grow apart," he said, lowing his head to hers.

"Just a b-bit..." she admitted. "But we...we are...in the m-middle of sex and...and...I'm just glad that you are h-here," she said, kissing his lips.

"Love?"

"Y-Yes?"

"I love you...I know I haven't said that in a while," Soap said as Y/n leaned up and kissed his lips again, he thrusted balls deep inside of her as their tongues fought.

"I love you too," she said, kissing his lips again.

"Oh my god," he moans, he looked down seeing his dick poking her stomach from the inside. Y/n's head went back as she moaned at the feeling.

She felt him twitch inside of her and then something hot rush inside of her. She moans and throws her head back and she came on his dick.

He pulls out and then laid on his back, Y/n looked at him and he motioned for her to come to him. She crawled towards him.

"Come on," he said.

"What?"

"Sit on my face, baby," he said.

"Sit on your face?"

"You've sat on it before, come on," he said as she crawled on top of him, and she lowered herself on his face. His hands went to her thighs and his tongue went between her folds again.

She grips his hair again, her hips bucked against his head, she rode his face as he cleaned up her cum.

"Ahhh~ S-Soap," she moans.

She could feel him smirking as he licked her clean. She felt herself close again and then came in his mouth, she moved down a little bit seeing him just swallow her cum.

"Soap?"

"Jesus, you taste so good, baby."

After a while Soap had run a hot bath for Y/n. She was in it cleaning herself up and just taking a nice, hot and relaxing bath, the bath was hot and had a bath bomb in it and she moved down deeper into the tub.

Soap had cleaned up around the place as Y/n relaxed, his sweatpants hung low on his hips and went back upstairs to the bathroom. He looked at Y/n he could see the top of her head, her eyes and nose.

"Love?" She looked up hearing her nickname.

"Yes?" She said as she sat up looking up at him. She rested on the side of the tub looking up at him, he bends down cupping her face.

"I love you," he said again.

"I love you too," she said, kissing his lips.

He sits down next to the tub and was admiring his wife, Soap was always at the gym to keep for his wife, he feels like if he doesn't look a certain way then she won't want to be with him anymore but that could not be farther from the truth. Y/n loves Soap, hell she married him for fucks sake.

His hand went to her head as she talked about what she should do tomorrow. Soap smiled at his wife and kissed her forehead.

"I forgot to go to the store, I'll go tomorrow," she said.

"I'll go with you after the gym."

"That's fine...Soap, why do you go to the gym?"

"Because I have this fear...you may leave me if I...if I don't look a certain way, the fear of you leaving has played in my head too many times that it scares me every time..."

"Soap," she cups his face. "I will never ever leave you, we are just like every other married couple, we fight, we argue, and we make up, shit happens, but I will never leave you because you don't look a certain way...I don't look like a certain way but you leaving me has never enters my brain because I know you love me too much to leave...like I love you too much," she kissed his lips.

"You are my husband...and I will never leave you over something so silly," she said, kissing his lips again.

"Goddamn, I love you," he said. She giggled and he started to attack her face with kisses.

---------

3:40AM

Y/n was asleep next to Soap. Soap was still awake, and he looked at his phone, he's never missed a day of working out with Ghost and Price but today, he wanted to skip it and spend time with his wife.

His phone went off with Ghost and Price texting each other as Soap put his phone on 'do not disturb' and went to asleep holding Y/n close to his chest, playing with his hair and kissing her cheek.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mctavish

161 notes · View notes

sevenpoyo · 9 months

Text

school headcanons for because i only got 3 more weeks

margo’s is so long even tho she got like 2 minutes of screen time bc i love her so much and she’s my gf

Margo Kess, 1610Miles, 42Miles, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar

margo kess / spiderbyte

ain’t shorty on zoom in the movie?

my girl dont attend class, she once shut down the entire blocks power so she would have an excuse to not be in class

eats in class all class everyday, only shares with you

takes really good notes and never studies them

like???? ma’am??? share???

all her electives are programming related and she pretends to busy while playing centipede all day

sends you 50 links to stuff you might like while ur in math

she got papers that let her opt out of gym

no matter how much you beg ur gonna be alone in gym and she doesn’t feel bad about it

popular with no friends type

like everyday 50 ppl stop you both and say hi

she only knows like 5 of their names she can’t stand half of them niggas

empty ass backpack like she got one notebook and one binder

all a’s and b’s like bitch how

her memory is absolutely ass but she can remember every story you told her or stuff that happened when y’all hang out

don’t ask her what she did in her class

don’t ask her if her class also has a history test

she don’t know

she don’t care

but she do know that when you were 8 your cousin burned ur thigh while y’all were playing iron vs knife fight

(u were dumb as hell for picking knife everyone knows iron always wins)

i looked it up on her word everybody uses those virtual avatars

she’ll shit on your class choices so damn hard

she just likes making fun of your choices fr

like half of ur conversation go;

damn i’m tired

u was up doing stupid shit last night you don’t get to complain

stfu that’s why ur a bitmoji

that’s why ur granny beat ur ass for something your brother did when you were 9

i hate telling u shit

then stop telling me shit

(i have no clue how accurate this is to her character but i need to write about her i’m in love but damn it’s long)

1610 miles / spider-man 2 lmao

book bag full locker full but never has a pencil

writes notes assignments and homework in paint pen ink don’t ask this nigga for notes

(he gets nigga treatment but not my queen margo bc i got favorites)

he miss mad classes but somehow still solid attendance record???

somehow always present in the record he miss 40 days and get caught on like 6 of them

unless his mom make breakfast and lunch on her day off for him he eating the most random shit from the bodega closest to visions

like what do you mean you got a cosmic brownie and a cold chopped cheese from last night ? it’s literally 7 in the morning no i don’t want none

makes you hype him up every time he slap boxes people and he’s so ass at it

he be ashy with no lotion atleast 5 times every month it’s embarrassing

he calls visions his white people school to his parents and his friends

once he said it to gwen and they sat in literal complete silence for like 10 minutes

prolly took music theory because he thought it would be easy and switched out of that shit so fast

i’d be so mean to him for enjoying physics

like this nigga trying to make something of him self

lil einstein ass nigga

he understands color theory but can’t explain it

12 half full sketchbooks but at school he literally draw on computer paper he don’t let the sketch book leave his bag

i know he’s ass at watercolor, he always spills shit, the colors always end up brown

try’s to be interested in your class choices bc he wants to know stuff he can talk about with you

when you first meet he can’t take meaner jokes bc he thinks that you mean them

but one day he’s gets comfortable, and brutal

no one in your life is safe when he looses a video game

except your mom

rio taught him better than that

42 miles / the prowler

comes to school with no school related supplies in his bag unless you count art stuff

finds a pencil on his way to class

has a change of clothes, rat tail comb, 3 bottles of water, a camera, a flashlight, lotion and cocoa butter.

like bro ur going to Ap Art not a camping trip

once he pulled out a griddle and and pancake mix and y’all started making pancakes in class

forgets his metro pass every day and gets so pissed ab it

runs into people in the hallway bc he’s never paying attention

idk if he goes to visions but if he does he calls it his white people school with his full chest to anybody even if they’re white

he be leaving halfway through the day all the time like bro you miss algebra 2 every damn day

uncle arron always talking him out of school with some bullshit reason

bro’s had his tonsils out 8 times on the school’s records

He will get ur parents to put his uncle on ur pickup list and you will be out of there with him

he will YELL if someone step on his shoes no matter what the situation like the school could be on fire and he fighting in the burning building

also his uniform is so pristine

his pants stiff

that button down is bleached ironed pressed and allat

this mfer is an online shopping addict u just know he be on amazon in class

will offer you the weirdest food combos like no i don’t want to put tajin mangoes on my beef patty i’m sick of you nigga

not school related but he’s super good with kids (both miles fr) but he’s the #1 little cousin defender and apologists

he ride for them always one of ur little cousins could sucker punch u and he be like

‘they just want u to play with them’

he takes a preforming arts class for fun prolly

loves sports but doesn’t play one understands the stats well and would help if you played one

wakes up at the asscrack of dawn on weekends

SICK ASS COSTUME FOR HOLLOWEEN IK THIS NIGGA LOVE HOLLOWEEN

plans costumes for school spirit weeks but always checks to seen if he’s gonna be the only one wearing a costume for it

never eats lunch unless his mom makes it he be hungry all day and be complaining

his socks are never in uniform (yes some uniform schools have sock rules)

gwen stacy / spider woman / ghost spider

idk what to call her

she has every snack you could ever want in her lunch bag

hates her music theory teacher

she literally has the most pristine locker with a calendar and a mirror and all that shit will write down test for you and important dates for the both of you

goes to school plays and shits on the story, like she ain’t pay 5 dollars to be there

some of her teachers hate her

like ma’am ur beefing with a whole 16 year old rn

she hate english teachers but love creative writing teachers

she keeps all her books in her locker never brings them home never brings them to class

always comes through with an extra pad no matter what

she also always has hand sanitizer

in like 4 extracurricular after school things and complains so bad

ur starting to hate that shit to ur sick of hearing it like girl quit then

10/10 cameraman she has every fight and every drama in 10khd and she will share them if you ask

she chews her pens and nails

has her drumsticks out always teachers have banned her from taking them to their classes

can watch tv on her phone but look focused you think she’s paying attention but then you look over and she’s watching good luck charlie

pavitr prabhakar / spider-man india

always late for class never in trouble

always eating and sharing food and never in trouble

how is he blessed like this? it ain’t fair

eats from the school vending machines or begs other ppl to share

will always have and share the homework answers no matter what he’s an angel

his sock always have holes in them like sir please get that shit together

gym try hard ik goes insane in football/soccer

very encouraging for shit u don’t wanna do he believes in you

you him and Gayatri talk so much shit but are somehow all well liked

he tells you what teachers are dating (he can just tell)

he has toothpaste in his bag for some reason?? i can just feel this one

his aunt will let you come over after school she’s so sweet to you.

always got a job at school assemblies

he’s reading poems or shaking hand or leading in the school pledge or something

Pav’s is short because i have no fucking clue if school in India is different form america and Barbados

#miles morales x reader #42 miles morales #margo kess x reader #gwen stacy x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr my beloved #atsv x reader #atsv spoilers #spider byte x reader #the prowler x reader #42 miles morales x reader

193 notes · View notes

munsonownsmyass · 8 months

Text

Healing takes time

Frank Castle x plus size!reader

Summary: At a low point in life, you meet someone who might just help you get through it.

Notes: I'm going through some stuff and put it in a fic. Is there any other way to cope with life?

@itwasthereaminuteago wrote me three little words (workout with Frank) yesterday and it inspired this.

Warnings: reader had bad self imagine. Insecurities. Some fluff at the end. We do like a happy ending.

Words: 1.5 K

Panting heavily, you finally stop for a break. Almost at a breaking point, feeling the tears threatening to spill. Every muscle aching and nausea building. Is it like this for everyone or just you?

The breathing is still not back to normal as you lean against the wall, chugging down the cold water in your bottle. This is horrible. Working out is horrible. You’re about to break into tears again with the thought of doing this again tomorrow.

“You’re pushing yourself to hard, princess.”

You look up, finding a handsome stranger in front of you. The type of guy you fear meeting going to the gym as a thick woman. Very attractive, muscular, actually looking like he belongs at a gym, whereas you were here for the first time, and it definitely showed.

“I know.” You said, no need to lie to the stranger. He and everyone else here had looked at you, finding all your flaws, probably had an inner monologue about all your rolls and how obvious it was that you were totally new to this. Not even in proper workout clothes, you felt like a fraud.

“You should ease up, let-”

“Thank you,” You interrupt him, not needing a lecture right now. You were already so close to crying that another word might break you. “But I don’t need your help. I know I probably do it all wrong, but at least I’m here.”

Your voice crack at the last word, and you just know you have to leave now unless you want to sob and then you definitely couldn’t show your face here again. You look into his eyes and to your surprise, you find compassion in his eyes.

“Who hurt you?” He asks softly, his voice full of sympathy and it’s too much. You walk off, grabbing your bag and walk out, not even looking back. You fight back the tears all the way to your car, fumbling with the keys when a gentle hand lands on your shoulder. Turning around, you see the man from the gym.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay. This is not about you and I’m sorry. I’m just having the worst week of my life.” You say with a shivering voice, wiping away a few tears. “The man I thought I was gonna marry just left me because I’m not good enough. So I feel like shit and wanted to change. That’s why I came here. But I suck at this, and I should just give up and be one of those women who have a bunch of cats and live alone…”

You sob silently, regretting pouring your heart out to this stranger, but you already feel better, getting it of your chest.

“Do you always interrupt people so much?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side as he cocks a brow at you. You sniffle softly, huffing out a small laugh.

“No, and I’m so sorry for that too.”

“No need to apologize. Sounds like you’ve had a rough time.” He takes a step closer, leaning against your car beside you. “I can help you, if you want.”

“Could you kill him?” You laugh trough your tears and he just smile, the smirk on his face making you question if he took it as a joke or not.

“I meant with the workout. Now, I’m no personal trainer, but I could show you how everything works.” He offers, looking at you with soft eyes. Really pretty eyes. You want to say yes, but you’d be too self-conscious to have this hunk see you all sweaty and weak.

“I really appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“Come on, princess. Gotta make that asshole regret he ever left you.” He nudges your shoulder softly and you hate how it gives you butterflies. You shouldn’t even go there. You’d never be good enough for a guy like that. And you just got dumped! This would be a mess. But you already knew you’d say yes.

“Okay then. But I’m warning you. I’m lazy and weak.”

“You’re stronger than you think, princess. You just gotta believe it yourself.” He smiles again, pushing off your car. “See you here Thursday.”

“But… what about tomorrow?” You ask, already having mentally prepared yourself for some daily torture at the gym.

“Your body needs some rest. Thursday.” He turns to walk back to the gym, but then turns around, smiling at you. “Do you even want a bunch of cats?”

“No, I hate cats. I’m a dog person.” You yell back at him, only to see a wide smile on his face. “I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Frank.” He says, before turning back towards the gym, waving back at you.

That’s how you found yourself at the gym twice a week with him from then on. Frank Castle. At first, he didn’t say much, just showed you how the machines worked, gave you some simple exercises and gradually increased the weight and the difficulty of the exercises.

But over time as you opened up more about your past, he did too. How he was born and raised in Hell’s Kitchen to Sicilian parents, how he’d been a major troublemaker as a kid and later joined the marines. The day he told you how he lost his wife and kids, was the first day your new friendship was taken outside of the gym. You invited him to dinner at a nearby pizza place and you had talked for hours until the owner threw you out at closing time.

Frank had helped you heal so much over the past few months and had giving you back the thirst for life. You smiled more when you were with him and felt better than you had in years. Also why you had invited him to your little party tonight, celebrating finally getting a place of your own, sticking to working out for 4 months and starting to feel like yourself again.

With the party at full swing, you look around and can’t find Frank anywhere, but notice the window to the fire escape is open. Peeking out, you find him smiling back at you with a beer in hand.

“Hiding, are we?” You giggle, before climbing through to join him. He just gives you a soft smile as he scoots over, making room for you.

“Yeah, that Louisa girl was getting a little too close.” He grins as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Shit, sorry. But I thought you were single, so I told her to go for it.”

“I am.” He responds softly, looking at the bottle as he fiddles with the label.

“Oh…” You turn a little and look at him, unsure why he’d reject Louisa. Possibly the hottest of your friends and definitely a catch. “Then… Why would you hide from her? I promise, she’s amazing.”

“Maybe she is.” He looks up from the bottle and into your eyes, his softening as soon as his gaze falls on you. “But I like someone else.”

“Damn, you should have told me. Then I wouldn’t have set her loose on you.” You giggle softly, shrugging apologetically. Truth be told, you would have hated for her to date Frank, but you couldn’t just keep him to yourself when a guy like that deserved so much better.

“I want to. I was just waiting until she’s ready.”

“Ready for what? I can’t imagine anyone not being ready for you, Frankie.” You laugh it off as a joke, but deep down you’re serious. How anyone could not be willing to be with Frank was a mystery. He was so kind, had been a rock for you these past four months and he was fine as hell.

“It takes time to heal, sweetheart. Especially after a failed engagement. And I don’t mind waiting a little longer for you.”

“For… me?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. You can’t really believe what you just heard. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he’s just drunk. It couldn’t be. “B-but… why? I’m not…”

Special. You trail off before you can finish the sentence. At that he just chuckles softly, like you’ve just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

“But how? When? I…” You stumble over your words, not sure you’ll ever be able to form a coherent sentence again.

“You’ve said that I’ve helped you heal. Truth is… You healed me too.” He reaches out for you, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his dark eyes stare into yours. There are so many unspoken questions hanging in the air, but you try to silence the voices.

He closes the distance, letting his lips claim yours in a kiss that takes your breath away, but it’s over too soon. For a moment, nothing exists beside you and Frank. The music gone, the city silent.

Tagging: @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @e-dubbc11 @theradioactivespidergwen @mattmurdocksscars @murdock-and-the-sea @mindidjarin @chvoswxtch @boliv-jenta @lucy-sky @darlingshane @saintmurd0ck

For the first time in a long time, you know things will get better. They say anything happens for a reason and you now know you were meant to meet Frank. You had been broken, but he had put you back together. Healing takes time, it takes practice… and a little bit of love.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle x plus size! reader

247 notes · View notes

deceitfuldevil · 5 months

Text

World’s Greatest Archer

Kate Bishop X Reader

Summary: Your part time job as an archery instructor, one of the many jobs you had to keep you afloat, just so happened to allow you to come across a pretty new face. After inviting her to a class of yours, she invites you to dinner the following night. What’s the worst that could happen?

Warnings: afab reader, mentions of exercise, suggestive physical contact, blatant ogling, canon level violence, kissing, allusions to smut, swearing?

Word Count: 1.5K

You lived a life of many dreams, that’s why you were living alone in New York City. That’s why you were simultaneously trying to make your childhood broadway dreams come true, going to school to get a degree and consequently a real job if need be, and working a few part time jobs to keep the lights on and your refrigerator stocked occasionally.

Regardless, one of your jobs you looked on more favorably was your part time gig as an archery instructor. Archery was another one of your passions growing up, and getting to practice it to this day was so fun. Also, the gym where you teach includes a membership with your employment. So you got to stay in shape too, and even sometimes, meet a new face.

You had just sat down at a machine that had been empty for a while to do some chest presses. Feeling particularly hot after the previous machine you had just used, you looked around to see the gym sparsely occupied and decided to take off your oversized modesty workout shirt. Leaving you in just some skin tight biker shorts and your sports bra that may have been a size too small for you, but it was in your favorite color!

Purple.

Someone else noticed your spilling breasts out of your tight purple sports bra, but you never noticed her. She stood quietly, having made her way back to the machine you were currently at about 30 seconds ago upon realizing she forgot her water bottle there. When she sees you, she quickly thanks lesbain jesus for this opportunity she’s been presented with. Her eyes traveled from your chest to your arms, caught on the subtle way your bicep flexes when you lift the bars. As your arms come down completely and she realizes this is her chance, she makes her move.

“Hi, sorry. I left my water bottle at this machine earlier on accident, it’s right behind you.”

A woman your age said as she appeared before you, wearing a cute purple and pink fitted jacket with a zipper brought down just far enough for you to-

“Oh, let me grab that for you!” you say immediately as you process her words. Leaning back with your left arm as you grab the water bottle. Not meaning to, you stretch your chest out and forward as you reach. It’s only for a moment, but it’s a moment she catches and indulges in. Then just as quick, you pulled forward and extended your arm with her water bottle in hand.

“Here you go. . .” you paused, intrigued to learn this beautiful woman’s name.

“Kate, Kate Bishop. . . where’d you get that bruise on your arm?” Kate said with a bit of a tone, was someone hurting you?

“Oh yeah, I got to teach an archery class of mine what happens when you don’t wear an arm guard.” you said simply and the pretty woman looked so confused, some people weren’t too familiar with the sport so you figured that was her case based on her reaction.

“You’re uh, you’re an archery teacher?” her mouth was running dry.

“I mean, I’m an instructor here. Just part time. But you should come to one of my classes! If you want, or whatever.” you spoke softly, getting shy at the end, but Kate was quick for a rebuttal.

“I’d love to!” Kate agrees instantly.

“Great! I actually have a beginners class in about 15 minutes. Would you come?” you offered eagerly.

Of course Kate agrees, she wants to spend more time with you as soon as possible.

No matter the fact that she had to feign ignorance about everything. But that was just it, the more she didn’t understand, the more confused she got; the more attention she got from you. Maybe you caught on when Kate was asking you for a lot of physical help, like what position to stand in, how far apart her legs should be, how high she should bring her arms.

Not that you weren’t basking in it, getting to run your hands all over her body to guide her was tantalizing. Small, intimate questions shared throughout the class as you repeatedly checked in on Kate. Getting to know each other a little better, might as well anyways since she’s pressing into you as you stand behind her to align her form with your body. If others weren’t in this class today, the lesson plan would’ve looked very different.

Just like that, class was over; and the tension was cut. But only for a moment, until Kate came back up to you after racking her bow. “Y’know, I think I might need some kind of verbal discussion to get a better handle of this sport, think we could do dinner tomorrow night? My place?”

Damn, she’s good; and bold. You smirked at her “I thought you’d never ask.”

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

She’s totally done this before, it’s got to be a bit or something. You thought to yourself as you looked at the beauty in front of you. A beautiful woman, and a beautiful charcuterie board. Kate claimed she’s never made one before, and just grabbed the works from the grocery store like two hours before you arrived. Did I mention she bought a delicious bottle of red wine as well?

You two enjoyed a lovely dinner (yes, a charcuterie board counts as dinner.) and as you watched Kate take in her last bite in somehow in a very elegant, attractive way. She noticed you lingering stare and bit her lip playfully in response. “See something you like?” Kate teased, but before you could form a response there was a loud crash at her balcony window and she was in front of you in a second. “Stay behind me.” she whispered in a soft yet firm tone.

Kate took a few steps forward, reaching under her dining room table first removing a small model of a compound bow followed by a leather quiver of arrows. Latching the quiver to a belt on her hips, and knocking an arrow as she continued to tiptoe to her balcony to find the source of the crash. When she rounded the corner and saw two ‘old friends’ (if you can even call them that) from the tracksuit mafia, Kate immediately told you to go run and hide underneath the kitchen table.

Running as quickly as you could, you slipped underneath the table with ease, shaking slightly behind the chairs that surrounded the table and simultaneously kept you covered. But also gave you a perfect window to see how Kate was doing. You did not expect to look up and find Kate forcefully kicking one man back and then perfectly shooting the other one in the thigh. Fighting them both with such skill and such ease. You were amazed, entranced, absolutely enamored.

Kate rids the intruders of her apartment and then immediately drops everything and comes back to you, getting you out from under the table and bringing you to her bedroom. She inspects you all over looking you up and down a hundred times “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re not hurt.”

Maybe it was watching her fight, maybe it was the classy meats and cheeses, but something was making all of Kate’s words unintelligible soft melodies as you just looked up at her dreamily and wiped a bit of blood from her lip. Kate stopped fretting over you and froze upon your touch, her eyes flicking between your own and your lips. It’s a moment and not much more except this time Kate seizes the moment and her lips are on yours.

It’s a relieving feeling, a ‘this is how it should be’ kind of feeling when you kiss. Her soft pink pouted lips perfectly slotted over yours, the faint taste of brie and malbec on her tongue as she gently swipes at your lips, asking for entrance. Easily, you part your lips and kiss Kate with a certain wholeness that felt so right. It’s quick, your breathing is getting heavy, her hands are at your knees, traveling higher, and higher, and then-

“Wait a second.” you said pulling away abruptly. Kate immediately pulled back as well to listen to your concerns.

“You were absolutely clueless at my beginner’s archery class last night, and tonight I find out you’re The World’s Greatest Archer?!”

Kate’s cheeks went pink “Yeah. . . and? What about it?” she said in a small voice, all shy trying to play it down.

“Aaaaaaand, you lied to me?? Used me even!” you said with a touch of dramatic spunk, not actually minding if she took your class just to get close to you. At this point Kate got a sinister smirk on her face.

“Oh honey. . .” Kate trailed off, pushing you back onto her bed and climbing on top of you “I’m gonna use you alright, in fact I’m gonna use you just right.”

—

A/N

(SPOILERS FOR ‘The Marvels’ AHEAD)

Well when I walked into the movie theater to watch ‘the marvels’ the last thing I expected to see was a Kate Bishop cameo, or to develop a thing for her character. But here I am!! About time I wrote fic about a female marvel character considering I’m a queer ass bitch who won’t date men irl 🤩🤩 anyways Kate is definitely one of my new characters I’m totally in love with so if you want to see more fics about her send me a request!! G-d knows I need to get back to writing more often…

109 notes · View notes

nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105 · 10 months

Text

“Her”

Master List

TW - Breaking Up, Cheating

Angsty

Simon Riley x (Y/N), König x (Y/N)

-Moral of the Story by - Ashe

“Simon no more!”

The way (y/n) laughed in the gym while training. She was picked up by Ghost, he lifted her up in the air and twirled around with her sweet giggles. The way her braids came undone. She looked at Ghost with desire and love.

König stood on the side lines watching her laugh. The way she smiled made his heart break more. He had missed his chance to ask her out. Now here he stands watching his crush be praised and touch by his nemesis Ghost. God how he hated Ghost.

The way Ghost would pinch her ass in front of him knowing damn well it made him jealous. Ghost always pulled her into his lap when König would stare at her. And just hearing her soft sweet moans coming from his room right across from his.

His heart ached for (y/n).

She was all he wanted.

But today was too much for him. He wanted to leave in a big hurry due to the tears that were gonna spill.

Before König could leave he saw Soap walk into the gym. He stopped and watched the guys talk but he glanced over to (y/n). She fixed Ghost mask and clinging to his side.

König wished that was him.

The way she held Ghost arm and the way she fixed his balaclava. And the way she kissed Ghost on his mask.

“L.t a word”

Soap walked into the gym he waved to (y/n).

“I need to come to the gym more often. Gotta find me a Bonnie lass. I see where they all hide.”

Soap teased and threw a flirt to her as she was fixing Ghost mask.

“Johnny!”

Ghost growled to Soap.

As the men left she was left standing alone. She walked over to pick up her towel and water bottle she wandered over to the pull up bars. König walked over and tried to make himself busy but he desperately wanted to be near her. The smell of her perfume surrounded him.

“König”

The sound of his name rolling off her tongue was music to him and made him get aroused. He must’ve been dreaming the ways she said his name sounded sweet to his ears. Then he heard his name again.

“König?”

He must’ve been dreaming. He heard her call to him again. Lost in his day dream he thought of her all to himself.

But her soft hands touched his arm.

“König?? Hello a little help here?”

Just her touch alone pulled him out of his trance and there she stood before him, he looked down at her.

“Schatz did you need something?”

“Yes I need help Ghost always does this to me.”

She pointed to the wall where the pegs in the wall were set up too high for her to reach. He laughed softly at her he reached up to get them for her. But he started to pick on her. He set them higher.

“König no please don’t be mean to me too.”

She pouted to him and laughed.

“König I’m serious if you don’t get them down for me I will crawl up on your back and get them down myself. I’m serious get it down for me.”

She walked closer to him and looking up. She sighed softly and pinched the bridge of her nose. She looked up laughing and blushing to him.

“I don’t believe you Schatz”

König saw her reaction and he loved how he made her laugh and how it was easy to talk to her even if he was picking on her. He loved how he towered her and how she needed him to get things for her.

She walked over to the pull up bars and jumped, pulling her self up she climbed side ways over to the wall where the pegs sat and pulled them out and started to make her decedent down but she felt rather large hands on her waist.

She jumped a little but relaxed into his touch and she felt herself being pulled towards him. He looked at her from behind. He set her down still holding her from behind.

“(Y/N) I need to tell you something, please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’ve always had a crush on you for quite some time and I should’ve asked you out months ago and I know you’re with Ghost but I wanted to let you know that it breaks my heart when you moan softly across from my room. I want it to be me that makes you happy and that caters to your needs-?”

König is cut off by her angry tone. He looks at her with regret and shame. He doesn’t know what to say to her.

“What?!”

“König what are you talking about?!”

“König when was this? When did you hear moans coming from Ghost room.”

She pushes away his arms and turns to face him. Looking at him she asked him sternly and she had a calm demeanor. She scratched the back of her neck and paced the back and forth a bit waiting for a response.

König realized that he may have just told on Ghost. He started stuttering until he blurted out an answer.

“Two weeks ago”

König stops and looks at her with concern. He steps forward to reaching out to her he touches her face she starts to breathe heavily and her eyes water up.

“I wasn’t here on base during that time. I went to visit my family for the night and I asked Ghost to come with me. He told me he wasn’t feeling well and I brushed it off. I didn’t want to believe it at the time. But I think I have to believe that something is going on between him and Soap. There has to be something that he knows or he’s involved.”

She walked out of the gym and looking for Ghost or Soap. She jogs back to Ghost room to find Soap there pacing the room.

König sat in the gym with his heart in his hands. He didn’t what to do or say?

Should he have said something? But he couldn’t handle the thought of her finding out about Ghost infidelity.

(Y/N) steps into Ghost Room.

“Soap what’s going on!”

“I know you know something don’t lie to me, tell me the truth.”

“(Y/N) its best if you hear it from me?”

Soap holds her hands. He sits down with her to explain the situation.

“Simon has been seeing someone else for quite some time and he just left. She’s pregnant with Simons child. She kept it a secret from him and he’s gonna find out if the child is his. She works for the base here.”

“What?”

“What, that’s not true Soap that’s not true. That’s not fucking true.”

*she starts to cry. Holding back her sobs but it all comes crashing down.*

“That’s not true”

*she starts to cry more sobbing and heavily breathing.*

“It’s not true tell me it’s not true”

*she grabs Soaps hands trying to makes sense of her world crumbling down*

“I have never felt more alone then ever, this right now is hell. My silent hell. Leave me be. I want to be alone. I need to process this all.”

*she sinks to her knees and sobbing her stifled sobs are muffled with her hands.*

“Soap can we keep this a secret for now. I’ll talk to Ghost when he gets back. I need to get a few things off my chest.”

*she gets up and walks out but she runs off outside and throws the doors open and runs to the nearby meadow to cry her eyes and soul out*

König notices (y/n) run outside. He follows her but stays a distance from her. He wants to comfort her but he decides against it.

Watching her cry and scream in the air. The way she pound the earth the raw pain she was feeling. She never look so broken now.

4 Hours Later

She sat in Ghost room waiting for him to return. She sat in the dark smoking a cigarette. She put in out on his desk the moment he walked in and turned on the light.

“Love you startled me”

*His thick sexy British Accent did give her shivers but now it was nothing.*

“When were you gonna tell me?”

She stood up and stood before him looking up to him.

“What are you talking about?”

He tensed up and put up his walls denying the question that lingered in his mind

“That you’re gonna be father?”

Her voice cracked

“Remember when we talked out the same thing months ago. And you told me that was something you didn’t want. But now you’re with someone else that’s gonna give you that.”

“God I believed you when you told me that you loved me and that I was the only one that mattered to you.”

“God I’ve never felt so alone. So alone.”

“I thought you were mine. And I feel like a fool for letting you into my life. I could never be more alone then right now.”

*she sighs and breathes heavily*

“Love let me explain-?”

Simon stood before a broken man. He couldn’t explain why it happened and especially to the person he trusted his very life with on the battlefield. But the bedroom and normal day to day life was different.

He stood before her holding back his tears he knew she had every right to be mad at him. He could face her to tell her the truth as of why he decided to mess around with the receptionist.

The words stung but seeing (y/n) cry made his heart break.

“No! You don’t get to explain yourself to me!”

“You made it clear to me!”

“You fucking put me Second, in fucking second place Simon Second Fucking place!”

“Now you’re Last….your my last choice. My last resort.”

“If I wasn’t of any interest to you. Why did I put so much effort into us…”

She gathers her stuff that she packed up and she walked out. Slamming the door behind her.

The sound of her relationship with Simon Riley echoed the halls. The sound of her heart crumbled down.

Simon fell to his knees sobbing. He had messed up and all the repressed emotions and memories of his father all came rushing back to him.

He punched the floor and the walls. He yelled in pain and yanked his mask off and went to the bathroom and yelled at his reflection. Simon Riley was what he should’ve protected and that part of him should’ve been just for her to see but the Ghost personality came out and was consumed with greed and lust. There was nothing he could change. The damage was done.

She walked out of his life for good this time.

In the shadows König watched her walk away carrying her belongings back to her room. As awful as it was for her relationship to end König saw this as his chance.

*Untitled #13 by - GLWZBLL*

Watching her walk away he saw this as his chance to make her his and only his. And nothing was gonna stop him.

“She’s gonna be mine”

“Her”

*credited artwork to @bruisepeach from TikTok*

a/n credit to the artist for the gif. Name is label beneath the gif. The picture for this is @namedlunagoddess

#konig fic #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig fanart #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig fanfiction #konig headcanons #cod konig #colonel konig #mw2 simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley angst #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n

233 notes · View notes

lxlxthh · 2 years

Text

tight shorts

sakuiwa - nsfw, groping

sakusa kiyoomi did not know how his red shorts would make iwaizumi hajime go crazy.

kiyoomi goes to the gym everyday with his team before practice, but stays longer when he has a day off.

he always feels happier to see his athletic trainer, hajime. slightly bowing every time he greets the trainer, he felt shyer each time.

today isn’t different.

kiyoomi stretches before the workout, cleaning his hands with hand sanitizer whenever he touches a different equipment, does cardio and stretches again when he finishes.

though he feels someone is watching, no, staring at him stretching and as always he ignores it by taking his small towel and bottle of water and walks towards the locker room.

kiyoomi can hear bokuto from the outside saying “damn… workout was tough!”, hinata agreeing and aran groaning while stretching his arms.

hajime says “where is sakusa? i need to speak with everyone” and at this moment kiyoomi is opening the door.

he scrunches his nose due to the awful smell coming from his teammates’ sweat.

“there he is.” atsumu says.

hajime proceeds to speak about the next workout schedule and warning about the mess atsumu made on the equipment.

after he’s done talking, most of the people head into the showers leaving kiyoomi and hajime alone.

bokuto is singing whatever voice comes from his mind, hinata and atsumu are following along. “won’t you go?”

“not now… not when there’s a lot of people and the three are singing to the top of their lungs.” hajime chuckles, kiyoomi freezes and turns around with his back facing hajime to his pink colored cheeks.

“yeah, me too.” hajime says. he never went with kiyoomi, so why now? He catches a glimpse of kiyoomi’s cheeks and smirks “your face will be looking like your shorts.”

hajime walks towards kiyoomi putting a hand on his waist making the black haired guy tense up “what made you so shy?”

“i uhm”

“you should wear these shorts more. looks very good on you” the short guy says, as if honey was spilling from his lips.

kiyoomi feels the shorts tighten more than they already are as hajime’s hands roam on his body.

hajime was about to grope the man’s ass when most of the team exited the showers leaving just 2 teammates behind.

“well. i think it’s our time, isn’t it?” hajime asks kiyoomi.

the man in front of him gulps a large amount of saliva and nods. taking his stuff and heading to the shower.

they both strip and kiyoomi tries not to look at hajime’s dick.

he remembers the amount of times he’s dreamt about hajime tying a rope around his wrists, railing him, kissing his weakest and favorite parts, holding his throbbing cock leaking of pre cum.

nevertheless, it’s just a dream.

kiyoomi hears the rest of his teammates saying goodbye and he bids from behind as well.

hajime grabs him by his small waist, pulling him closer. he feels the erection on his back making him gasp. “this” hajime grips kiyoomi’s waist ordering him to focus on what’s behind him “this is what you do to me when you use these shorts.”

“hajime-san” the trainer chuckles, kiyoomi widens his eyes as he realizes what he said.

“i see you’ve been practicing how to say my name, I don't mind. keep calling me.”

hajime kisses the back of kiyoomi’s neck to his shoulders and the black haired guy throws his head back and groans.

kiyoomi wonders if it’s a dream “hajime-san” he speaks again, making sure it’s real.

“yes, sweetheart?” kiyoomi is on cloud nine when hearing the pet name. hajime looking down at kiyoomi’s cock throbbing and leaking, he smirks “want me to take care of you? i hope you don’t mind using ropes, sweetheart.

kiyoomi shakes his head and hajime turns to grab the hope from his bag. the shuffling sound makes kiyoomi a bit anxious, he never used hopes during sex, he never used anything beside the condom and lube for protection.

this is totally new for him.

he doesn’t complain because what’s there to do in the first place? he’s going to get fucked by the man who’s lurking his dreams, his crush for as long as re remembers.

hajime ties the rope and hajime leads kiyoomi to one of the cabinets. “will you suck it for me, sweetheart?” the guy can only nod, unable to say anything or else he would make it worse for himself. he turns on the shower to make sure no one hears the lewdest sound kiyoomi is making.

hajime groans when tears start to form in kiyoomi’s eyes, hajime’s dick can’t fit his mouth. he thinks “it’s too big and thick”. hajime is gripping his hair and deep throating him, poor guy can barely breath.

“are you ok?” hajime asks “don’t cry, sweetheart.” after kiyoomi breathes all the air in, hajime taps his cheek to open his mouth again. “fuck sweetheart, you’re doing so good to me.” kiyoomi swirls his tongue around it, feeling the bittersweetness when hajime cums and just like he dreamt, hajime tastes amazing. He feels his cheeks hurt but doesn’t care.

kiyoomi wants to touch him but remembers he’s unable to do so due to the rope and whines, hajime chuckling turns him around. biting and kissing the man’s neck and shoulder, he says “fuck, sweetheart your skin is so soft. are you ready for me to fuck you?”

“please hajime-san” he begs and without a second thought hajime stretches kiyoomi’s hole, he keeps hitting the same spot kiyoomi loves.

hajime feels kiyoomi’s leg shake “not now, sweetheart.” he bends kiyoomi to insert his dick, he doesn't go fast. Hajime waits for the man to get accustomed with the size, thrusting slowly at the beginning, it’s hard for him to keep the pace.

with a hand on kiyoomi’s waist and another on his wrists, and thrust by thrust it gets faster and sloppier. it’s so fast that a sound barely can come out from kiyoomi’s mouth “ahh, yes, yes! right there!” hajime wants kiyoomi to be closer, so lifting his chest a little and touches it with his right hand while the left one sneakily grabs his dick. “haj- hajime-san, it’s too much. i’m about to-”

“hang in there, sweetheart. cum when I will tell you to.” hajime keeps teasing him as he tries to come. “sweetheart, you’re so tight. huck-” and just a few more thrusts Hajime tells him to release, so they do it together.

kiyoomi cums on hajime’s hand “hajime-san, you need to wash your hand.”

“are your wrists hurting? let me see.” he ignores what kiyoomi says and grabs his wrists remembering the rope he had tied.

“hajime-san, they’re not hurting. It’s ok.” after he unties the rope, kiyoomi turns to look at him but more at his chest, not wanting to make eye contact and make it awkward “it wasn't tight.”

hajime puts the rope away and kisses kiyoomi’s writs “i’m glad. let’s take a shower and I will treat you to dinner, ok?”

kiyoomi nods and hajime kisses his lips.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #haikyuu sakuiwa #sakuiwa #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi #sakuiwa smut #sakusa smut #iwaizumi smut

69 notes · View notes

total-drama-brainrot · 3 months

Note

Hello hello ophe 👋😇

I know this sounds weird and carp but I’m gonna say what some of my favs smell like

Trent (my dumb princess) probably smells like mahogany teakwood, strawberry kiwi or motor oil

He seems like a strawberry kiwi kinda guy

Axel would smell like pine, motor oil, or cucumber melon

Emma definitely smells like sunshine and lemons or cupcake sprinkles

WAYNE the boy smell like musty ass hockey bags or hot honey, or strawberry ice berry lemonade

Scary girl smells like red raspberries, unopened monster high dolls, candles, or a hot topic

Damien smell like chemicals, laundry detergent , ocean salt, or fresh water

OLIVIA VON TRASHPANDA smells like what a god would smell like

-Ass Stars anon

I’m gonna like ask every like three or four days so not to clog your ask box and so that I try and control myself

Hello hello, Ass Stars Anon! 👋😊

You're giving these kids way too much credit in terms of how good they'd smell, imo.

Axel would smell earthy, like mulch and wet leaves, because she's a survivalist. Having a traceable scent would bring down her 9.7 primitive survival rating! That's not to say she smells bad, but if you were to sniff a handful of dirt and then Axel herself there wouldn't be much of a difference. Of course, after she started her relationship with Ripper she started smelling like him too (given the fact that the two were literally near inseparable), which is mostly just the stink of body odour- Ripper believes in letting his "natural musk" and "alfalfa pheromones" run free.

Emma strikes me as the sort of girl to either wear super sugary-scented perfumes or drown herself in fruity/sweet body mists. She probably goes through a bottle of So...? Fragrance a day, either in the scent Birthday Cake or Raspberry Frappe.

In the same vein, Chase would reek of whatever cologne/body wash he's currently sponsored by, or if he has his own brand of cologne he'd wear it religiously. I doubt many of them smell great, but at least it's more interesting than deodorant and hairspray.

Wayne AND Raj both smell like Lynx Africa (AXE Body Spray for the US, I think?) with the underlying smell of hockey-sweat and gym lockers.

Scary Girl probably reeks of brimstone and hellfire. Joking, but given that she lives in a funeral home and (according to her audition) deals with explosives often, I imagine she's stained with the ever-present smell of dust and cinder- maybe with the underlying smoky smell you get from standing too close to a fire. Topped off with some sort of cloyingly sweet flowery perfume; she's got that creepy-cute aesthetic to keep up, after all!

I'd like to say that Damien smells like fresh linen and hand sanitizer- because as a science nerd and an anxious mess, he initially struck me as someone with good or even over excessive hygiene habits- but with Zee's secret spilling we know that this dude hasn't changed his underwear for weeks(?), so he in all likelihood smells like cheap cologne layered over dirty clothes.

Olivia von Trashpanda has ascended beyond trivial mortal concepts like "smell".

Trent, our silly little princess who has done no wrong ever, would smell like wood polish (for his guitar), motor oil (he strikes me as the sort of guy who's into fixing up old cars, or modifying his own motorbike) and Old Spice. A lot of oaky scents with a twang of petrol.

This is all off the top of my head btw. I haven't really put much thought into what the contestants would smell like- for good reason, given the fart jokes and gross-out humour in the series.

That's not to say that your own interpretations/headcanons are invalid or wrong, or that my headcanons are the gospel truth. They can smell like whatever you want them to!

This is just me adding my own interpretations. Feel free to disagree with me!

You can send asks as often as you want! I'll do my best to reply to them all, though sometimes I do find myself drawing a blank as to how to respond. If I don't reply to an ask please don't take it as me being rude/annoyed, I probably just couldn't think of anything to add.

#i'm probably gonna be thinking about how every contestant smells now. great. 😬 /lh #anyway harold smells like a hospital and no one can figure out why/how /j #really though. feel free to disagree with me. my suggestions aren't meant to be taken as veritas! /srs #discuss things with me! point out flaws in my logic! run me over with a honda civic! (maybe not that last one 👀)#total drama #td2023 #silly headcanons #others' headcanons #ass stars anon #replies

4 notes · View notes

espinosaurusrexex · 2 years

Text

Save Me III

College!BuckyBarnes x College!reader AU

summary: Everything sucks without Y/N. Even Sam notices it, so Bucky has to do something about it ASAP.

a/n: Guyyyssss, it's finally happening. But first, there is a lot of good old angst. So enjoy!

I also have some drabble ideas for this series, but let me know if you have some things you'd like me to write.

word count: 8k

chapter warnings: *Steve Rogers voice* Language!, pessimistic world view, serious existential-crisis-level angst, mentions of death and loss, grief, fluffidy fluff, sloooooow burn

series masterlist | series playlist | read on ao3

“Yeah, that’s three points for me, homeboiii!” Sam flung his fists up in the air as he watched the orange ball drop to the ground beneath the basketball hoop.

“Oh come on! You were totally stepping over!” Bucky argued pointing to the lines drawn on the floor. “See this? That’s where you’re foot’s supposed to be, you moron.” The frustration of the night before took over his mind.

“You tryna tell me how to play basketball?” Sam’s eyebrows were raised in amusement.

But Bucky didn’t think it was so funny. “Fuck you, Sam. You’re cheating.” He mumbled as he moved to the bench to grab his water bottle.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need to be a bitch about it.”

“I’m not being a bitch, you jackass. You fucking cheated!” The discussion was already becoming desperate but Bucky couldn’t let off. The tension rising exponentially and replacing the stuffy gym air with its heavyweight.

“Hold on, now.” Sam stepped over to his friend, reaching out for his shoulder. But Bucky just jerked away with a piercing look in his eyes.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, Sam. I swear to God!” Sam stepped backward, raising his hands in surrender.

“What is your problem, dude?”

“What’s my problem? Are you serious?!” Water bottle still in hand, Bucky made a wide gesture that caused some water to spill on the floor.

“Yes! I am fucking serious. You’re acting out for no reason!”

“You know damn well what you did!”

“I didn’t do shit. You’re overreacting.” Bucky just huffed in response. Shaking his head as he grabbed his backpack roughly to stuff his towel in it.

“Get a fucking grip, Bucky! God, you’ve been bitchin’ the whole day. What the fuck is going on with you?”

“Just leave me alone, Sam.” His voice was way too calm for the cocktail of emotions splashing within him right now. And Sam must have noticed it as well. His response was attempted to be just as calm - honestly so, in hopes of allaying his friend.

“I was. You just attacked me for no reason. And I ain’t playin’ like that.” He drew a deep breath, sighing loudly in the process as he rested his hands on his hips. “You think you can calm down a bit?”

“I- uhaahrg!” Bucky turned mid-sentence and punched the wall behind him with full force. The dull noise was accompanied by a low grunt. Fucking hell, that hurt like a bitch!

“Woah, okay.” Sam approached him in two large strides and peeled the Backpack out of his hand. The other was still resting on the wall, as was Bucky’s forehead. The cool concrete weirdly calming after the intense anger pooling in his veins. He didn’t see the change of expression on his friend’s face. How it turned from frustrated to concerned. His heart even beat a little faster than it should be. Bucky had never acted out like that. Hell, the most emotion Sam would get from him were cheers at a football game. But this? Totally foreign territory for the friends.

A firm, reassuring hand was placed on the shoulder that had pushed the fist into the wall seconds before.

“Please.” Bucky’s voice was only a whisper, and he had to be careful not to break then and there. Yes, Sam was his best friend. His only real friend for that matter, but he wasn’t ready to lay his burden on him. That wouldn’t be fair - to nobody. It had drawn him away from Y/N, already. He couldn’t do the same with Sam. “I just can’t-“ He exhaled slowly. “I can’t tell you, Sam.”

Fortunately, Sam knew better than to push him further. After the outburst he had just witnessed, he was probably just glad it wasn’t him facing the fist that had made a small indent in the wall before them.

“Can you just go?” Bucky turned his head away from Sam, forehead still touching the cold wall. His voice was breaking.

“You know where to find me.” With a last squeeze of the muscles on his shoulder, Sam retreated from his friend. He shook his head dropping the backpack and leaving the gym without another word, worry evident in his eyes.

—

It had been a week. A whole fucking week without talking to Y/N. Luckily, Sam had stopped asking what was going on after the incident. The second Bucky had returned to their room, he locked eyes with Sam who had just shot him a reassuring nod. He understood that Bucky would talk to him when he was ready for it. Even if he would never be, this wouldn’t be something standing between them. And he was thankful for that. Truly, Sam was the best. He left Bucky enough room to be himself while still nudging him to push his boundaries. He had helped Bucky make process with his emotions without realizing it, even if it was just in Sam’s presence. And for everything he had not accomplished yet, Sam was there to sit it out with him. He was patient and kind. Too good to be Bucky’s friend if you’d ask him, but he still got lucky enough to have a best friend like Sam.

Bucky was really struggling to keep his emotions in check. Everything he had had under control just a couple months ago, had been thrown out the window when Y/N was around. And Bucky didn’t know how to deal with it. It was exhausting. Wrestling with his own mind like that. For years he had been able to just shut everything off - not let anything touch him. And now? Everything went to shit. He didn’t mean for it to explode in everyone's face like that.

It had crashed into him like a fucking train. He had not thought about the reason why he became the Bucky everyone knew for a long time. And the painful memories just brought all the emotions back up again. Emotions he had worked so hard to contain. But that didn’t matter anymore. Bucky knew Y/N wouldn’t stop until she got the answers she needed. He didn’t know why she was so set on getting it out of him, but he did know that it was inevitable. And somewhere deep down, he knew that he was ready to tell her. That she wouldn’t leave as everyone else did. That she was okay with seeing the him he had tried to hide for years. It was scary but he had to do it. In order to even have the possibility keep her in his life.

Bucky sat in an uncomfortable chair, dragging his eyes over a boring old book that had stains way more fascinating than the worlds printed on its pages. He had found refuge in one of the rooms he had explored with Y/N one night. The funny posters next to the whiteboard mocking him now. Still, the room held a calmness, Bucky had been yearning for when he walked past it, escaping from the crowded library.

He flipped another page and traced a coffee stain that kind of looked like an elephant when he heard footsteps approaching down the hall. They came to a sudden stop but Bucky didn’t bother looking up. What was the point, anyway?

“Happiness is the highest good.” A soft voice traveled through the room.

A shockwave went through his body when Bucky heard it. His body becoming rigid at the sound. Though, despite the struggle he slowly peered up to the door and spotted Y/N standing there. Her arms folded over her chest, head hanging low and a slump in her shoulders he had never seen before.

“What?”

“Aristotle.” Was the only answer she gave him. It took a second for Bucky to realize what she meant. And when the light above his head finally turned on, he felt the weight in his chest lighten. He smiled. Not only did she come to apologize, but she had also looked through texts of boring dead men - yes Bucky knew how much one had to torture themselves through some of those - just to find a quote that helped her with it. To keep up the silly little game they had started when they first met, and that made the situation now weirdly comforting.

He stood up and closed the distance between them, lead by the heat swelling in his chest. When he came to a stop about a foot away from her, he could see how red and puffy her eyes were.

“Let’s just forget about it, okay?” His hand reached out to hers, attempting to pull her into a hug but she swatted it away with anger flaming up in her orbs.

“No, we can’t forget about it.” He winced at her harsh counter.

“It’s fine, Y/N-“

“It is definitely not fine, Bucky!” She stepped back, holding his gaze with an intense stare. There were tears brimming in her eyes but Bucky knew better than to try and soothe them away. He just stood there, waiting for the impending storm that was not avoidable anymore. “It kills me, Bucky. It really kills me that you think this world has nothing more to offer than pain and sorrow.” A sob broke through her speech. “I want to show you so many things. I wanna tell you how amazing people can be. I wanna hear you laugh and I want to see smiles on your face, and surprise, and happiness, and so much more. But you’re standing in your own way, Bucky. You’re sabotaging that for you and everyone around you because you always feel the need to seek out the worst in everything. What happened? How did it come to that? Because I really want to punch that person in the face… and somewhere else if it’s possible.” She drew a deep breath that followed by a long exhale. “I just had to get that out. I’m done now.” Her voice was firm despite the obvious urge to break within her. The tears now streaming down her face and gathering in the fabric of her shirt.

“What happened, Bucky?” She emphasized, but Bucky stayed silent, his eyes trained on the floor as he struggled to suppress the prickling heat rising in his throat. He could see her stepping closer in his peripheral.

“I wish you would trust me enough to let me help you.” That was the sentence that crushed him. He did trust her - too much for that matter. And that was part of the trouble. His whole being fought against revealing too much about himself all the time; but around her, this urge was gone. And he felt empty - without purpose when he stood there unable to determine what he should focus his energy on. Unable to tell whether being himself was good enough for the bright and colorful personality within her. It surely wasn’t. It wasn’t even for people way less perfect than Y/N. So he had shut it out. In fear of being broken again. Tied it up with a strong rope and thrown in a box that made sure to never let it escape. Except, maybe for Sam some day; and maybe some other people. But most of these people were gone now.

Bucky felt her tug on the hem of his shirt, urging him to look up into her flooded eyes. There was so much comfort nestled within them that Bucky took the courage to slowly open the box inside him, letting the crimson red fringes of his true fears show.

“Why is it so important to you?” He whispered, tears threatening to fall on his face. His throat was dry and speaking felt like stroking it with sandpaper.

Her response was instant. As if there was nothing she was more certain about. “Because I care about you.” A weak smile snuck on her face as her hand traveled to his, squeezing it intently in the process. Warmth spread from her touch - a tiny nudge for him to step towards the deep and dark pool of fears he had tiptoed around through the years.

The tears now no longer preventable, he choked out a pained: “It’s hard.” This whole situation was scary. It was unfamiliar. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried. Let alone in front of someone. It must have been back when he was a kid, in front of his mother, probably - No. It wasn’t. Bucky didn’t know why he tried to lie to himself. He knew damn well when it happened the last time. It was the day he had become the Bucky he was today. Shut-in and cold to anything the outside world would present itself with.

“I know. I know it’s hard, but I need you to tell me.” Y/N’s tears continued to fall, her hand squeezing his a second time. “Please.”

There is no escaping this, Bucky. Just do it. If she leaves, she leaves. You can’t stop her. You’ll just shut it out again. You’ve done it before.

“I had a friend named Ste-” Bucky had to swallow the lump in his throat. It had been years since he had said that name. “Steve.” He paused. He would get through this. Y/N’s hand in his grounding him, he proceeded to open up. “He left for the Army when we were 18. He always had this hero complex, I don’t know. Always put himself in danger for the greater good.” Bucky had to smile at the memory of him. Okay, Bucky. You can do this. Just fucking breathe. “But it was hard on me. I didn’t have a lot of friends back then. I still don’t. He was my best friend, my brother. I’ve known him since we were kids.” Okay, here it comes - the painful part. Man up and face it. “At one point he stopped contacting me. I was so angry and hurt, I missed him like crazy.”

Y/N stayed silent. Listening to him intently. She placed her other hand on his arm, rubbing it in comfort.

“Came to find out he went missing on a mission. I felt so bad. Let my feelings get in the way of rationality. Steve wouldn’t have left like that. Not without a reason, at least.” He sighed. “Didn’t change the fact that I became an asshole to everyone - even my parents. My dad got in a bad accident the same year. Died a couple weeks after, and I was so scared. I didn’t know how to fucking live.”

Bucky lifted his head to look in her eyes, gripping her hand even tighter.

“I found out that not having to deal with emotions helped a lot with getting things in order. So I did just that. Have been living like it ever since. It makes things easier you know? Not caring. Being able to focus on objective.” Sure, it meant that Bucky didn’t get to experience all the other emotions, but that was a small price to pay for the promise of never having to feel this pain again.

“But that’s no way to live.” They were both full-on crying now. Trying to comfort the other with faint touches and gazes that held a weight to them none of them had ever experienced.

“I know that now. Because then you came in and my whole fucking world turns upside down.” His chuckle mixed with another sob, producing a choked noise.

Y/N leaned forward, embracing Bucky in a tight hug. Burying her head in his shoulder and squeezing his middle with her arms, as if she was trying to get all the hurt out of him. She didn't need to do that. Bucky understood, now, that feeling this hurt was what he had needed. His arms wrapped around her shoulders in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered in her hair. “I want to see the world the way you do, I really do. But you have to give me time, Y/N. I’m really trying but it’s scary as hell. All these feelings are overwhelming. I don’t-“ Another deep inhale, collecting the calming scent of her shampoo, “I don’t know how to deal with it all. I'm terrified.”

“I’m here for you, Bucky. I always will. And I’ll be patient with you if that is what you need.”

Bucky smiled over her frame. He was thankful for the things she offered him. Even if they utterly terrified him. In the end, he noticed that talking about his feelings had lifted a tremendous amount of weight from his chest. He was able to voice his fears again. And he was finally feeling all the emotions he had been suppressing for way too long now. And hopefully, he would soon be able to understand and embrace them as well.

—

Bucky laughed. Yes, he laughed. He did that a lot lately. His head was slightly propped against the wall behind him, his legs covered under a fuzzy blanket.

“That’s fucking hilarious!” He exclaimed as they watched a movie. Seated together on Y/N’s dorm bed, because her roommate was at home over the weekend, Y/N leaned on his chest enjoying the protecting arm around her shoulders as they both watched the laptop screen in Bucky’s lap. Y/N tensed for a second before fully relaxing again.

“You know I’m all for expressing yourself but could you please cut down on the swearing?” She looked up at him by laying her head back further towards his shoulder. Her hand moved up to his face, smoothing out the frown that had settled on his forehead with her left thumb.

He had noticed how she flinched or briefly glared at him every time he threaded a swearword in his sentences. But he couldn’t help it. Sometimes it was just the perfect way to describe things and really express everything that could otherwise only be explained in a hundred unnecessary words.

So yeah, he cussed. What was so bad about it? Literally, everybody fucking cussed. It’s what adults did. But somehow, Y/N’s bodily reaction to it stirred something within him.

He didn’t say a lot after that. Mainly because he was scared that another curse word would slip past his lips. So he just smiled, pulled her deeper into his side, and hid his face in the crook of her neck. “Ok, doll. I’ll try.” He whispered hesitantly, breathing in her scent in the process.

“That’s all I’m asking for.” He liked that she didn’t push him to become different like a lot of other people in his life had done. He had learned that the mere mention of disapproval for the way he carried himself had pushed him to provoke that very reaction from his environment. Somebody told him to stand up straight? You knew damn well that was exactly what he was not gonna do. He even hunched a little further on a particularly desperate day. Or back when he still lived at home and his father told him to empty the dishwasher. Yeah, no fucking way he was gonna do that now that he asked him to. He realized later that he was an idiot for behaving that way. It was childish and it just added to the weight pressing down on him after he died.

Bucky settled back a little, still holding Y/N close after he pressed a reassuring kiss on the crown of her head. Y/N didn’t ask for a lot. She barely mentioned when something was bothering her, actually. So, Bucky knew that this was something she really cared about. Not that she didn’t already care about everything a little too much - seriously, he would have already collapsed under the pressure she put herself through - but for some reason, it worked for her. So when she asked him to curse less, it felt like an order he had put upon himself to follow. To bring her comfort, and with that, ease his mind as well.

—

That was easier said than done. Bucky realized the days after how often he liked to sneak a “fuck” in every sentence he formed and it made him feel guilty thinking about the times Y/N had ignored and shrugged it off as if it didn’t bother her. He really tried, but he found himself stopping mid-sentence sometimes to remind himself that the thing he wanted to say could be conveyed without cursing. It was really effin’ hard. So he settled for the slightly alternated, but still acceptable versions of cussing for now.

“…so I gave him that answer and Professor Vision went shirtballs.” Bucky finished his story. He had just come home from his class on metaphysics with one of his favorite professors. Mr. Vision was a strange man, with daily rituals that he executed mechanically. But Bucky liked him. Mainly because he seemed to know everything about the world, but ironically enough, Bucky had the impression that Mr. Vision himself had not yet answered the question he was teaching on. “What is life?”

Bucky had just started studying Philosophy as a joke because he already questioned the world he was living in anyway, but he grew a liking for the contents of his studies within the first few months of his freshmen year. And so he stuck to it. Embracing the foolhardy picked major as a calling that pushed his ego to the extremes. But his mom wanted him to ‘start doing something, already’ and it just happened to be a thing he could actually bear. Of course, he was sure he would have finished whatever he had started, not wanting to waste his mothers’ money like that because she insisted to pitch in on half the student loans he had to pay each year. He would have become a carpenter or maybe joined the army. He would have made do with whatever he had started because 'life was a joke anyway'. At least that was his disposition back then. Now? - He wasn’t so sure about it.

“Did you just say shirtballs?” Sam almost laughed but then his expression changed. He looked concerned for Bucky and squinted his eyes at his friend. “Are you okay? Do I need to call a doctor?”

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m fine, just trying to swear a little less.” He grinned, satisfied with that answer. He turned to the door to hang up the jacket he had yet to take off.

But Sam didn’t fail to catch the honest smile in his friend's feigned smugness. “That doesn’t, by any chance, have anything to do with your little girlfriend?” He wiggled his eyebrows and Bucky’s ears tuned read as he sunk his head between his shoulders, his hands balling into fists.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He turned around looking at his friend who was now laughing.

“But you want her to be.” The brunette stayed quiet at that. Of course, he wanted her to be his girlfriend. She was the most perfect woman he had ever met and she had brought so much happiness into the past months of his life that he was sure he had not felt in the rest of his miserable existence combined. Of course, that was his fault, but he appreciated that Y/N lifted the pessimistic blanket that seemed to be draped over his head constantly.

Sam took his friend’s silence as a “yes” before he continued to tease him. “Man, you are Whipped!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Ah, there it is! I was worried she deleted the old Buck for a second.” Shit! - No! Dang it! - God, this was hard.

“I am not whipped.” Bucky attempted to clarify, pressing every word through his clenched teeth.

“Yes, you are.”

“NO, I’m not, Sam!” He drenched the name in a warning undertone. But Sam only turned his back to Bucky descending the room humming. “Whatever you say, dude.”

“Bucky and Y/N sittin’ in a tree, K. I. S. S. I…” And then he was out the door before Bucky managed to grab something to throw after him. He was sure he had a huge ass grin on his punchable face then. And he made a mental note to wipe it out of there later.

—

Spring was approaching quickly and apart from the stressful period of exams week, the time seemed to pass by quicker than Bucky liked it to do with Y/N by his side. He had just picked her up from her last class for the day and strolled with her through the courtyard again. It was a little rainy outside and, honestly, Bucky wouldn’t normally walk through the muddy green if it wasn’t for her. She made him enjoy even the dreariest of days, reminding him of the summery smell of wet soil or the fact that slugs and worms would probably have a party right now, considering it were their favorite conditions. Yeah, she enjoyed life in the easiest of ways. Ways, he had never even considered before. When her situation wasn’t ideal, she imagined what profit others could pull from it and drew her happiness from that. It was truly amazing how effortless she made living seem, leaving enough cheer for Bucky to catch as it spilled over. He was grateful to be allowed by her side, to be granted the bits of sunshine that beamed from her like a disco ball.

He felt a tug on his hand before he was pulled to the side of the path. A gesture that had happened way too often by now.

“Look!” Y/N pointed to the trees on the lawn, racing him to them. When Bucky caught up to her, she was already pulling him down to the ground.

“I feel like I’m having a deja-vu.” He muttered as he looked at her profile and tried to balance on his feet in the position he was in. She was focused on the ground, where a purple arrangement of crocuses had bloomed through the wet soil. How the heck did she see that from there? Bucky realized that the flowers did represent the only pop of color amongst the faded green of the winter-toned grass.

“Winter’s finally over.” She beamed at him, hauling him into the happiness that radiated off of her. Bucky never minded winter. Everything was plain and dreary and that meant that people questioned his usual attitude a little less. But now that he knew how much Y/N had been waiting on the next season to start, he realized that he, too, felt joy spreading through his veins at the sight of the purple messengers in the grass.

“Aren’t they beautiful? Oh, I’m so excited!” She pulled him from his thoughts and squeezed the hand that was still latched between hers. Goosebumps rose over his arm at that and Bucky wished for it to never stop. Her smile became even wider than before when she looked around and spotted another patch of flowers around the trunk of the next tree.

Bucky could have watched her jump from one flower to the other for hours. She seemed carefree and lively with the way she danced through the raindrops. He would make dang sure that she would have flowers every day of his life if that meant seeing her like that forever. Heck, not even the future seemed scary when Y/N was around. How did she do that all the time? Somehow, she created a new version of Bucky that he actually liked to get to know better. What was happening? The warm feeling Bucky got to experiment with more frequently lately, made its way through his body again. Was this Love? No, It couldn’t be, right? That would be insane. That would be too…perfect. Shit. He was in deep. But what was so bad about it? Nothing. To be completely honest, Bucky just wanted to find something opposing his feelings because embracing them was scary. Scary as hell. And he didn’t know how to tell Y/N that he needed help welcoming them into his heart. But not when he wasn’t ready. He wanted to love her. But he had to trust himself enough to set the sensation free on his own. Maybe she could help him a little bit. By just being there, holding his hand and cuddling him during late movie nights in the dorm. Yeah, that’s how she helped.

Bucky stood up and walked over to her. Ignoring the few raindrops nestling in his hair on his way over to the swaying figure. “Dance with me, Bucky!” She took his hands and spun him around leaning her head back to feel the wind from the momentum. She looked beautiful. Bucky couldn’t hide his smile any longer and proceeded to spin her in the muddy grass. Not caring for their shoes to get dirty, the pair laughed through the movie-esque moment they shared. When he was sure that Y/N would be dizzy by all the twirling, Bucky stopped her, grabbing her by the waist and stilling her movement in the process.

He smoothed a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “You’re crazy, you know that?” Her hand settled over his wrist, caressing it intently.

“Everything’s better than boring.” Y/N looked up through her lashes, appearing almost flustered. She pulled her lip between her teeth, chewing on the cushion carefully. Bucky’s hand hat settled on the side of her neck. His thumb stroked feather-light patterns over her cheek as he gazed into her eyes. He was lost in the beautiful color.

“You’re better than everything.” It was just a whisper and Bucky wasn’t sure Y/N had picked it up over the rain that had grown a little heavier. Not that she was meant to hear it anyway. It was just a thought that had escaped his lips as he was chained under the ban of her presence.

“You really have a way with words. Don’t you, Mr. Philosophy major?” She laughed and her eyes crinkled a little. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Now, Bucky was the one biting his lips as he contemplated the move he had been thinking about for quite some time now. “Here, I’ll show you…”

Curious eyes followed his other hand before it settled on her second cheek. Bucky leaned forward and closed his eyes, bumping his nose with hers gently. He remained in this position for a second or two. Breathe in - breathe out. He concentrated on the sound of the rain hitting the leaves above them and settled in the calmness that the white noise washed over him - not that it would do anything about the nerves he endured thinking of what he planned to do next. And then, he leaned in. Soft lips grazed his slightly chapped ones and pushed over a vase of feelings that now spilled all over his insides. It felt like shock waves pulsing through his nerves when Y/N started to slowly move her mouth on his, inviting him to follow her movement. Her free hand found its way around his torso and settled under his shoulder blade. She was warmth and calmness wrapped up in one and Bucky finally got to feel everything he wanted from her. His grip on her face tightened, careful not to hurt her, as he dipped her head back to be able to straighten his back a little. Their bodies now pushed press against each other to feel all of the heat radiating off the other, ultimately sharing the energy it created. The air was getting scarce but Bucky couldn’t get enough of the taste from her lips. She didn’t want to stop either, but there was no way - they had to come up for air eventually.

A rumbling thunder ripped through the sky, causing her to jerk a little from the sudden bang. Y/N pulled back less than an inch from Bucky’s face, finally able to take in a much-needed breath. That’s probably when realization set in. Bucky could see her eyes changing in shock for a split second before they softened, focusing on him again.

“Holy Shit,” Y/N whispered against his lips before pulling a little further away and hovering her fingers above her mouth. Bucky wanted to add a similar reply but stopped when he notices what his ears had just picked up on.

“Did you just curse?” Bucky asked amused.

“I- I guess I did.” Her eyes brightened at that and she softly slapped his chest. “Look at the bad influence you have on me. Cursing is your thing! And I’ve been trying to make you stop that.”

“Seems we’re a lot more alike than we thought. Huh, sweetheart?”

“Oh, shut it.” She laughed loudly, throwing her head back. She looked fucking - no, freaking - gorgeous and Bucky couldn’t help but pull her in for another kiss.

“Does that mean, I get permission to occasionally swear?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Y/N cocked an eyebrow at him accompanied by pursed lips. “Do you feel the need to?”

No, he honestly didn’t. After about a week of trying to cut down on his swearing, he realized that it did in fact not always help him press more meaning into his sentences. So it became easier for him. He couldn’t entirely eliminate it, but he settled for the occasional alteration as a tribute to the way he used to express himself.

“Hm…” He tapped his chin, “only when the situation calls for it.”

“That, I can deal with.” Y/N laid her head on his chest breathing in the faint summerly rain smell that was approaching. “I have to admit that ‘holy shit’ captured my feelings quite well back there.”

Bucky chuckled, resting his head on top of hers as his hands found their way to her back, gently stroking the wet fabric of her shirt in a loving gesture. Damn right, it did.

—

Bucky would have never imagined a conversation like this with Sam and Sam’s expression told him that his friend was thinking the same thing. Sure, they talked about girls but Sam wasn’t exactly a settled man. Feelings were not the first thing he was looking for in girls. If they happened, he happily embraced them but he never actually talked to Bucky about great details. Which he was grateful for back then. But now he wished he would know at least a little bit about how to go at this.

The brunette had been giddy all day long. Ever since he had come back from his was-it-a-date with Y/N, he had been itching to tell somebody about it. But he had to get himself in order first. There was just so much he had experienced in the past 24 hours and he really had to tell someone that wasn’t Y/N for once.

Despite his initial shock, Sam was on the edge of his seat. He leaned over the sticky table of the food court corner they had picked out for lunch. His eyes wide, hands propped next to his sandwich to hold his body over the food.

“You kissed her?!” He yelled excitedly. The grin on his face was wider than thought possible. So, this was definitely not the subtle way.

“Go ahead and tell the whole Campus, will ya?” Bucky slumped in his seat. He didn’t know why he was so flustered. He wanted to tell the whole world himself, but something in the way Sam said it with that stupid grin on his face just made him feel like a child.

Sam pulled back a little and rested his chin on his head mockingly. “Tell me everything!”

Though Bucky wanted to slap the smug smirk off his friend's face, he couldn’t help the shy smile from spreading on his face. He did want to tell him everything - that’s what he had been trying to do for the past thirty minutes or so. He slowly sat up straighter, took a sip of his drink, and started talking.

He told Sam everything, getting lost in the moment again as he reminisced the cringingly cliche kiss-in-the-rain-situation that played out yesterday. With a couple of interruptions from Sam that teased him in a loving way, like 'In the rain? I didn’t know you were the romantic type, Buckaromeo,’ he finally made it to the end of his monologue. Pink tinting his cheeks that Sam didn’t fail to comment on, either - of course.

Sam leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest and a proud look on his face. “I gotta be honest, Buck. I never expected you to actually go for it.” He paused and sipped on his drink. “I mean you have been pining for this girl for what? Three months now?” It was definitely longer than that, but Sam didn’t need to know how bad he had it in for Y/N. So Bucky stayed silent as he sensed that Sam was not finished with his speech.

“And I never took you for the settling type. All those party hook-ups - they definitely gave me the wrong impression, man.”

“Okay enough with the sappy comments, I get it.” Bucky scolded him over the table.

Sam’s expression changed to an amused one and Bucky saw a little mischief light up in his eyes. “Also, now I don’t have to worry about you taking all the ladies anymore. I mean - don’t get me wrong - your flirting game is still weak as shit. Really, I don’t know how you got all these girls but now? I’m back on top. No competition, nothing.”

Bucky huffed, “Shut up.” But he couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping his lips.

“Needless to say, I'm happy for you. You truly seem lively. And if you’re happy so am I, my friend.” Sam’s smile made his eyes crinkle, showing his shiny white teeth. The mood shifted to a serious one again.

“I’m glad you see it that way. And I am happy.” Bucky smiled, too - more to himself than his friend. They shared a look that conveyed more than words could have. A small nod on Sam’s end said as much as ‘Look at us. I’m so proud of us.’

Sam crumbled the sandwich paper and threw it in the trashcan a few feet away before they stood up to leave the food court. The friends were strolling towards the exit.

“I don’t know what this girl did to you, but I like it.” Sam patted Bucky’s shoulder.

I do, too. Bucky thought in silence as he smiled contently. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam just yet. Eventually, maybe. But not yet. For now, he would just ravel in his newfound emotions by himself - and with Y/N. Enjoy the way she slowly inched him closer to experiencing them to full extent. But until then, he would just imagine what it would feel like to be fully in tune with them. To just be able to enjoy them when they hit him and not be startled by their effects like it happened now. For now, that was. He was okay and for the first time in a while, he was excited to see what the future would bring.

—

Bucky had to get used to letting his feelings show around Y/N. It’s not that he didn’t want to. Sometimes there were situations where he would have loved to just scream them out at the top of his lungs. There was just one problem: he didn’t know how. So he did his best in showing her through affectionate hugs and gentle strokes on her shoulder. He would say it with a kiss on her temple or by squeezing her hand in the middle of a crowded room. But his favorite way was in form of words that weren’t his. There was a weird intrigue in taking a quote that had been produced hundreds of years ago for an entirely different purpose and making it part of their beautiful relationship. It had been a game from the start and every time she hit him with another, Bucky felt a little tug on his heart that made him feel appreciated and heard through the things that interested him. Y/N put that effort into it for him and it felt amazing to know.

It had been a couple weeks since his conversation with Sam, now, and Bucky had been playing it over and over in his head again. They were currently in Central Park, taking a stroll through the slowly waking greenery of spring when Y/N had stopped the both of them to look over the pond, hosting a bunch of ducks on its surface. She did that a lot. Making Bucky notice his environment and not walk around with his head low, eyes trained on the ground. Y/N pulled on his sleeve, leading him further to the railing of the bridge that provided a great view over the small body of water. The sun was shining, reflecting on the water and making it shimmer white in the process. The air around them was pleasantly tempered, but the places in the shade were still a little too cold to reside in for too long. The park was littered with vibrant colors found in flower buds and leaves in all shapes and sizes. Bucky never realized how refreshing all those colors were after a long and cold winter. Always too focused on other things that seemed absolutely trivial now. He looked around once more, taking in the scenery. There was a guy a few feet away, playing a familiar song on his guitar, and an old lady feeding pigeons on the bench next to him.

Bucky slung his arms around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her closer to him and pressing a loving kiss to her forehead.

“I guess Leibniz was right.” He mumbled against her temple, letting his breath warm the skin beneath his lips.

Y/N pulled away slightly, searching his eyes for the rest of his sentence.

Bucky brushed the thumb of his free hand over her cheek before he elaborated. “We live in the best of all possible worlds.” He said and turned back to look over the pond. His eyes following a family of ducks that swam on the water.

Y/N copied his gaze, smiling as she spotted the little ducklings swimming behind their mother through the water lilies. “Yes, we sure do.”

“I gotta be honest. Before I met you, that quote always seemed a little…” He turned his head back to her, gently moving her face to his with his fingers on her chin. “…naive.” His smile was sheepish.

She led her hand to his cheek, pressing her forehead against his and closing her eyes, smiling. “I’m happy you chose to be naive for me.” She whispered.

“And I will always try to be.” It was a promise. A promise that Bucky did not only make to her but also to himself and the world around him. He wanted to experience it just as she did, but he also knew that he wasn’t quite there yet. There was a little more to go and Bucky was willing to take those steps if it meant having her by his side for the journey.

“I’m so proud of you, Bucky.” Y/N opened her eyes again, searching his to assure him how truly honest her statement was. She was met with a flashing smile that was accompanied by crinkling eyes. True and pure happiness was etched over his features and Bucky wished to hold on to the tingling feelings her words awoke within him forever. He let his hands slide down to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“This place is ready for us to explore its beauty.” She continued and Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he searched his head for the occasion he could have heard that quote before. But after a couple of seconds, he came up empty.

Watching the girl in his arms with soft eyes, he crinkled his nose and shook his head faintly. “I don’t know that one. Who’s it from?”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, hiding a smile from exploding on her features. “Y/N Y/L/N.” She announced proudly, searching Bucky’s reaction with anticipation.

“Oh, she’s my favorite!” He exclaimed, squeezing her waist as her smile finally broke free.

A loud giggle escaped her lips and Bucky closed his eyes, appreciating the way this had all turned out for him. It was truly strange how fate brought people together. Y/N and him were polar opposites - the perfect characters for a comedy movie. She was the last thing he thought he needed back in October, but now, he wouldn’t change that night for the world. Y/N was the first good thing that had happened to Bucky in a while. A person determined to show him the beauty of life, and who he just happened to fall for in the process. He was willing to do anything to hold onto her for as long as possible.

—

Being with her was like walking through a fucking field of flowers. It almost stung with the way her sweetness invaded his senses with every touch she offered him. Clouding his mind with an unbelievable force that managed to ban all the bad from his usually stone-cold heart. It was infuriating, really, that not even that aggravating voice in his head managed to form a despondent thought, find anything wrong, whenever he was with her. She made his conscious puny and insignificant. At first, Bucky didn’t want to embrace the happiness Y/N surrounded him with. He tried to push it away, even - wishing to ban it from entering his brain and coating the gooey black pessimism with her floral bliss, making him think of hand-holding and sharing cotton candy on top of a Ferris wheel. Yuck. But after a while, he found himself longing for the feelings blooming in his chest whenever he got to be near her, spend time with her, or even just hear her voice over the phone. It took a while, but eventually, Y/N made the world seem worthy of his attention again. She didn’t do it purposely; that was probably the reason why it sneaked onto Bucky so stealthily and crashed into him with full force one day.

He was on a walk through the college courtyard and saw a butterfly rest on the daffodils by the path. And he thought, maybe if Y/N would be here right now, she would stop and admire its beauty; pull on his sleeve to crouch down beside her and make him be all quiet and watch it slowly move its wings. She would make him appreciate the environment he found himself in and she would do it with the brightest, warmest smile on her face.

So that was what he did. He paused in his tracks, crouched down, and stayed real quiet. Careful not to disturb nature in its purest form. After a while of silence, he noticed more animals searching for some rest and pollen in the flowers. Bees and bugs, ants, and even a snail slugging its way through the green grass. He exhaled then - closed his eyes and slowly fell back to sit on the ground. He heard buzzing and chirping, rustling, and a faint breeze sweeping its way through Bucky’s hair. He got to experience his surroundings - a path which he had walked at least a hundred times - in an entirely different way because of Y/N. She wasn’t even here with him and he still managed to feel her all around him. Most prominently, though, in his chest. In form of a comforting warmth that took over his senses and enabled him to appreciate the moment and push the distant traffic noises even further away from him. He must have looked like an idiot sitting in the grass like that, burying his hands in the soft green. At least that was what the dull voice in his head struggled to convey. But he drew in another deep breath and managed to ignore it all on his own. A strange emotion spread through his body then, and Bucky was taken back when he realized what it was: pride. Pride and contentment - which he rarely felt in combination with each other, let alone all at once. But not today. Today, he felt proud of being able to calm his roaring head all by himself. Lacking any guilt he usually felt when he tried to relax. And it was refreshing. He reveled in the feeling a little while longer, letting the sun warm his face with its bated spring force.

Y/N had made him fall in love with the world again; saved him from a dark abyss constructed by his own imagination. And this time, it didn’t bother him at all.

❁ Yayy! We made it. I hope you enjoyed this little piece. Thank you guys so much for the love and support this series has gotten over the past weeks. You are awesome!

taglist: @cjand10

251 notes · View notes

captainmalewriter · 2 years

Text

Magic Dust

In my defense, what happened was a complete accident and none of it was planned. Also, I didn't think magic spells would actually work. Now I might have a man’s life in my hands...

You see, the other day I was scrolling through Instagram when this fine ass man came up on my explore page.

He was hot! And at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel like I had seen him somewhere before. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Jason Ruiz Jr.”

Even his name sounded familiar. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it at the time.

That is, until I went to the gym not too long ago and I saw Jason there. He was in the locker room bathroom, flexing for the camera.

I hid in the far end of the locker room before Jason could spot me freaking out at the sight of him. I finally remembered where I had seen him before. He was one of the personal trainers that worked at my local gym, and I used to be one of his clients about two years ago. In an attempt to stick to a New Year’s resolution I had, I hired Jason to help me get fit.

That didn’t last very long. I quit after a week. Though I never really formally quit, I just stopped showing up at the gym. He had my phone number and did try reaching out to me several times, but I just ignored all of his messages until he just stopped trying altogether. I stayed away from the gym for a while, and I only came back after I figured out Jason’s work schedule. I feel like it’d be too awkward if I ran into him, after ghosting him for so long.

“That was close,” I whispered to myself as I sat down on a bench. That was actually the first time I had seen Jason since I quit two years ago. I wasn’t expecting to see him, he’s usually scheduled for the evenings.

I thought about just leaving and coming back another day, but I figured that after two years, it should be fine by now. And even if it wasn’t, I could just go to a corner of this massive gym and avoid bumping into Jason.

“Yeah, that’s what we’ll do,” I said as I opened a spare locker to put my drawstring bag in. I took out my bottle from it and took a sip. I immediately spit it back out when I realized it wasn’t Gatorade inside. Fuck! I accidently grabbed the wrong bottle! I grabbed one of my Mom’s bottles filled with God knows what! My Mom has been pretty into witchcraft lately. I thought she agreed she would only use the glass bottles for her “magical potions” or whatever she called them. Now she’s using my personal bottles again...

I stood up, ready to throw out whatever concoction was inside my bottle and replace it with water.

“Hey, aren’t you-”

I rounded the corner and bumped into someone, that someone being Jason no less. I couldn’t catch myself in time and accidently spilled the bottle’s contents onto Jason. He got covered in that glittery substance.

“Bro what the fuck? What is... What is......”

I could see Jason’s eyes daze out of focus. He started acting loopy. He was leaning back and forth as if he was about to fall. His face suddenly looked very tired too. The glitter on his body kept glimmering in the light all the while this was happening.

“Dude are you okay?” I asked him. I could see him open his mouth, but it looked like just doing that was taking a lot out of Jason. I saw his facial muscles hard at work just to open his mouth.

“We...ird.... I, I... fee.... feel... weird...” Jason said with very spaced out syllables. It took me a while to figure out what he said.

“Man pull yourself together and talk normally, I can’t understand you!”

Suddenly, Jason stood up straight. His eyes were still dilated, but now they seem focused.

“Yes Sir.”

That’s all he said. He stood perfectly still, not even moving another inch. I got closer to him, but no visible reaction. It was honestly kinda freaking me out.

I went back and grabbed a white towel out of my bag.

“Here, you can use this to wipe that stuff off your face,” I offered Jason the towel.

“Yes Sir.” He took the towel and wiped his face with it. He called me “sir” again. Something was off.

“Jason, do 10 jumping jacks.”

“Yes Sir.”

He then proceeded to do 10 jumping jacks right then and there, just like I had commanded him to do.

“Goddamnit, it must have been that stupid glittery spell.” I muttered to myself. I don’t know what I did, but Jason was under my control now!

All of this happened yesterday. Not knowing what to do, I decided to take Jason back to my house. He’s still in a trance, and he won’t do anything unless I tell him to (including the bathroom...)

At first, it was weird, having Jason as my personal servant. But I quickly got used to it when I realized everything Jason could do.

“Jason? Come here,”

“Yes Sir.”

He hurried over to the living room where I was. He’s so cute, always on top of things. He stood there in front of me, glitter shining as bright as always.

I admired him for a while before issuing my next command.

“Jason, go make me an iced coffee. Then come back and give me a back rub.”

“Yes Sir.”

He turned around and began making his way to the kitchen.

“Wait, come back.”

“Yes Sir.”

He promptly returned to me. I reached out and grabbed his shirt to double check something.

“Take this off first.”

“Yes Sir.” he took it off, and now was standing shirtless and glittered up in front of me. I loved that this was all mine now. Then, an idea came to me.

“Actually... Jason, give me a back rub first.” I flipped over onto my stomach on the couch. “Take off my clothes before you massage me.”

I could feel Jason put his hands on my lower back. He began massaging, and soon put his hands on my sweats and slowly took them off.

“Jason? Take your time with my ass, I’m really sore down there.”

“Yes Sir.” he said as he began massaging my bare ass. I moaned as I felt his big strong hands rub my butt. I don't know how to get rid of the potion effects, but that can wait. I have plenty more for Jason to do before he goes back to normal.

#male body possession #male control #male hypnosis #hypnosis #magic #potion

540 notes · View notes

yaomomvs · 3 years

Text

TAKE OUR HAND

seijoh x manager!reader

in which aoba johsai vbc just wants you to take their hand, just as the many times they have reached for yours when they needed it

pls i’m sorry i just wrote this for comfort, in having a terrible week and so, i just really need my seijoh boys to comfort me even if it’s just in my head and just so you know, and as i’ve been trying to convince myself, things always get better

tuesday, [15:56 pm]

“nice kill yahaba senpai!” kindaichi congratulates his upperclassman.

his voice makes you react, it scared you. still holding your pen and the notebook you always carry around even on normal practice days, your hand threatens you in the most scary way possible.

fuck no, just... breathe.

you are quick to leave aside the notes, and so, you look around to the boys, who just after the coach’s whistle sounds they are quick to approach your spot.

you take the water bottles as quickly as you can.

“oh y/n-san, i know we are irresistible but you can’t just slack off admiring us!” makki teases you laughing.

“if our dear manager is admiring someone is obviously me” oikawa says, before taking a sip of his bottle, slightly making you blush even more.

“i don’t think she likes idiots who still watch youtube conspiracy videos at 3am”

“iwa!”

“weren’t you the one with a secret obsession for romance manga, iwaizumi?” it’s mattsun time to expose his friend. iwai mi doesn’t hesitate and he runs directly to matsukawa, while kunimi brings out his phone to start recording the chaos in the gym.

you don’t listen.

your head hurts, and then, you once again feel this weird thing in you stomach. you have been feeling like this for the past week, and you try to ignore it . but sometimes, you just want the world to stop.

you can’-

“y/n senpai?” watari calls your name, and you notice his furrowed brows looking at you, worried. you blink and correct your posture. you had just zooned out. “is everything ok?”

“ah yes watari kun!” you force your self to sound relaxed because you feel the sudden gaze of the entire team “i was just thinking in a smart way to insult oikawa, but i’m worried he won’t understand tho”

“hey! you said i was your favorite”

you fake laugh once again assuring everyone that you were just fine. the day goes on, and somehow is becomes more difficult to just stay down not worrying about anything.

and they notice.

you don’t walk home with the guys today. instead you run to the bus not before excusing yourself with an ‘urgent family thing’

“just please don’t let makki eat so much ramen today!” you giggle as you run to the bus “i’m not in the mood to dealing with diarrea!”

“that was a secret between us darling!” the pink haired guy screams cheeks blushing.

and maybe you were just too distracted, but before you face them away some of them notice how quick your smile fades.

“you know guys” yahaba is quick to say “call me crazy but, why did she lie?”

—

wednesday, [10:22 am]

when was the last time you actually enjoyed school? not practice, but school itself. seeing numbers everyday in the board that you don’t understand is frustrating. your throat hurts, there’s has been a not there since the begging of the day.

swallow it, y/n, dammit

you decided to take this class, don’t blame the world, blame yourself. isn’t it supposed to be simple? why isn’t it being simple? is that...

"Square root of 57 is equal to Xo, miss"

"alright!"

it is not like it’s a race, you want to say. why was the teacher obsessed with speed?, it’s unfair. your time is not the same as that of others.

you drop the pencil and you recline in your chair, why couldn’t you do operations and analysis as fast as they could? you take a look around and the eyes of others look frightening. you see ambition, you see security, you see admiration.

the bell rings and you just want to run, and well in a way you end up doing it. leaving your homeroom, you tell your friends that for today you want to be alone, the halls of aoba johsai are big, for your fortune or misfortune. you go to the vending machine and when your drink falls, the minimum noise makes you startle, lately it’s like that, small noises or actions affect you way too much.

and iwaizumi notices it.

you don’t make a single move, it’s just the cold drink resting on your hands. and before iwaizumi could stop mattsun, he was already putting his hand on your shoulder.

“y/n!”

the orange juice spills and once again fear takes hold of you.

you see them both, you’re not stupid and you know hajime stares at you weirdly, and now mattsun, you hide your fear it a bit worse than yesterday, but you do anyways.

"someday, Matsukawa-san, YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME! and what will you do without me?" you try to say cheerful, wanting to take away the suspicion, for a moment it works.

"flunk history, that leads me to..."

"no, sweeheart, i won’t give you my homework"

you walk and both guys follow you, one faster than another, very naive of the situation. "I begin to believe you hate me," says Mattsun, as the three sit on a bench near the school cafeteria casually encountering kunimi who quickly joins you, patting the folds of your skirt as you sit down, you rest on the table and admire his needy expression and as the tantrum of mattsun grows.

minutes go by, your chest pain grows, but somehow you know how to let it go.

with your hands supporting your face, lunch passes between you and kunimi, you try to talk, you really try.

but still, your eyes just glow, and kunimi notices how it’s not the glow you always have.

—

thursday [12:03]

your head is spinning, you can feel the cold sweat. will this be the time? why do you feel so small? why can’t you say it?

it’s familiar, you recognize this feeling, an ocean, you’re floating, you know you can swim, but, you’re in the middle of nowhere, you look down. Out of nowhere the intimidating depth of the ocean is beneath you. And then, you sink. You feel like you’re drowning, you feel like you’re fighting the tide, but you just can’t do it.

i just need...

no, it’s not time yet, it’s still training. the boys... you’re the one who should take care of them, you’re the one who has to be be fine. they had no time to lose, they had a goal and for the moment that was the most important thing.

On that bench, your gaze is absent, you know it is so.

and through the window that overlooks your classroom, oikawa notices it too

“y/n...” he mumbled.

of course he’d noticed. at first it was not so clear, but now he remembers.

when kindaichi pinned your dark circles to him, while admiring you by fitting volleyballs in a way not of your own.

makki watches oikawa from your side, you don’t even know the pink-haired guy is there, unaware that he’s sitting next to you. but he notices. he’s been noticing for days that your eyes are threatening to close in the middle of class.

hanamaki catches your attention and instantly that mask you’ve been wearing for weeks appears again.

"hanamaki, i’m fine"

it doesn’t convince them. they both look out the window and nod.

oikawa notices, and god, he wished he had no reason to.

—

friday [14:00 pm]

breathe.

please just... breathe.

you’re fed up. the feeling of guilt and discomfort is still there, can’t you be calm? people don’t need to know, but why do you want to shout it?

the dressing room is alone, the girls from the soccer team are out and it’s your only chance.

the team needs you, hold on a little.

your footsteps are heard in the hallway once again, a symphony you’re tired of listening to.

your chest hurts, your heart is aching, but you just need a little more. hands are shaking, the cold in your body, you need to stop.

you have to make them stop.

but when you walk into the gym, even with your eyes down, all you feel is warm. and it’s because, the boys were standing, aligned begging for you.

no, they beg for your sake.

and everything stops.

one hand from him on your neck, and one hand around your shoulders.

because oikawa, without warning, now has you in his arms.

and then, only then, you break.

tears don’t take long to come out, along with desperate sobs. your legs fail and out of nowhere, you and oikawa are on your knees.

with an alarmed look, the whole club runs towards both, surrounding you as sensibly as possible.

"i’m sorry, i’m sorry I’M SORRY" is heard from you, between hiccups.

“love, listen...” iwaizumi approaches you,somehow he managed to catch up with you, somehow he managed to hold your hand.

"i promise i didn’t want to, but i can’t, i can’t anymore, why can’t i? i try and i try and i keep trying but it’s never enough! IM TIRED OF SEEING SOMETHING AND NOT BEING ABLE TO PROCESS IT LIKE THE OTHERS. I’M TIREDD OF NEVER FULFILLING WHAT I SHOULD”

yahaba’s heart aches, and just as most of the team, is shocked.

your hands, oh your adorable hands, those hands that bandage his in the middle of an important game, he sees them shaking horribly between iwaizumi’s.

“AND I’M SCARED, WHAT IF I LOSE YOU BECAUSE OF THAT BECAUSE OF ME? BECAUSE OF HOW I AM I-“

watari is quick to place your hair gently behind your ear, a kunimi covers you with his jacket.

“I LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND I DONT RECOGNIZE MYSELF” you lower your voice, its cracked now “oikawa I don’t recognize myself, I want to be me again" you whisper, and a knot appears in the captain’s throat, and he puts a hand on your cheek "please... just let me be me again" your throat burns, your eyes get redder.

the gym goes silent, your words still echoing in everyone’s head.

“why didn’t you-“

“i just couldn’t” you blame yourself cutting oikawa off “look at us! we are waisting time on me when we should be- i’m the one who has to- im you support not-“

“hey hey, love...” iwaizumi whispers his voice is filled with sweetness, letting you sit correctly and softly rubbing his thumb in your hands “how many times have you been there for us? y/n your hand is always there”

“that’s true” kyotani says, finally saying something, emotions overwhelmed him a lot, but he genuinely wanted to help you.

“there’s something about you, there’s light” kindaichi follows up.

“no matter where, or how bad we are, somehow you always are helping us stand up” mattsun also tries to carefully approach you, he wants nothing more for you to feel safe.

and oikawa’s arms were still around you. he never stopped.

“we have reached your hand so many times, so now it’s time for you to please take ours” oikawa holds you face, and you see the sincerity and kindness behind his brown eyes, it feels like home.

mattsun does a sign asking the coach for a day off, both of them smile tenderly at you and give the green flag. iwa and makki are next to hold you carefully helping you stand up. they help you stop shaking but it’s mad dog the one who wipes your tears away with a tissue watari handled him. still not knowing if he did it the right way. you still feel kunimi’s scent. you still see kindaichi holding your school bag making sure nothing is missing. yahaba is the one bringing you water. and oikawa still refuses to let you go.

all of them feel like home.

“thank you”

and that’s how you know everything is going to feel fine.

because this club was yours and you were theirs.

this was home.

1K notes · View notes

peachbear88 · 3 years

Text

Don't Be Shy

Summary: Carol has always had her eye on you but what happens when a new person comes to take you away from her? Credits to @captains-simp and the anon that sent the idea to them.

Pairing: jock!Yelena Belova x Reader, jock!Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, smut if you really, really squint, light angst, mostly fluff.

Word Count: 2.232k

A/N: I'm considering making a drabble part 2 for this because I had a really good idea for the drabble part 2. Let me know if you want one!

-=+=-

"You're a pain in my ass you know that?" You wheeze, lying down on the cool floor of the basketball court. Carol flashes you a smirk before shooting, landing the smoothest three-pointer you've ever seen. "Fucking show off."

"Watch your mouth sweetheart," Carol warns you and you gulp, watching as she casually passes the ball between her legs before catching it and spinning it on her finger. She notices your lingering glance, smiling smugly. "See something you like?"

You wipe the sweat from your forehead.

"Fuck off Danvers." She laughs as you stalk towards the changing room.

"That's Captain Danvers to you!"

-=+=-

You hurry through the halls, eyes glued to your phone.

"Gah!" A figure bumps into you and the contents of their backpack spill everywhere.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry!" You kneel down, scrambling to pick up the person's belongings. Water bottle, books, headphones and- a basketball jersey? You look up, your eyes locking with piercing hazel eyes. "Basketball?" She takes the jersey from your outstretched hand, stuffing it into her backpack.

"Yep. I'm the new kid." She sticks out her hand for you to shake. "Yelena Belova." You snap your fingers.

"Right! I've heard of you. Basketball captain showed me the roster." She smiles nervously, picking at her finger nails. You place a reassuring hand on her shoulder sending goosebumps up and down her body. "Don't worry. She's nice for the most part."

"Are you on the team?" You chuckle, shaking your head. Yelena can't help but feel a wave of disappointment as you remove your hand from her arm.

"Good heavens no. I'm about as athletic as a sloth." You crack up at your own joke as the blonde chuckles nervously.

"Actually-" Yelena's cut off by a toned arm wrapping around your waist.

"Carol!" You greet her, not completely surprised by the intimate touch. "We were just talking about you!"

"Nothing bad I hope?" Carol jokes but her gaze never leaves Yelena, inspecting her.

"Of course not. Yelena, this is Carol Danvers, basketball captain. Carol, this is Yelena Belova. She's going to be joining the basketball team." You introduce them, nudging Carol with your elbow.

Yelena shrinks under Carol's steely glare. Neither make a move to greet each other as the hallway is filled with an awkward silence. You clear your throat, gently plucking Carol's arm off your waist.

"Well, I better get to class." You smile kindly at Yelena. "Bye Care-Bear! Bye Yelena!" Carol smiles briefly at the nickname before turning back to Yelena.

"Listen here newbie. I don't know what game you're playing but you better stay away from Y/N or I'm going to make your life here a living hell. Got it?" Yelena gulps, forcing herself to look straight into Carol's dark, menacing brown eyes.

"Understood."

-=+=-

"Come on! Come on!" Carol shouts, pacing up and down the basketball court. "My grandma does better pushups then you and she's dead! Belova!" Yelena freezes, her arms quivering slightly. "You call that a pushup? Give me 50 more! You look like you could use the exercise." Carol smirks as Yelena sighs internally.

Yelena's about to finish her extra 50 pushups when a melodious laugh rings out, echoing throughout the gym. She turns to see you, entering the gym with a shy looking, meek brunette girl.

Yelena's arms give way and she collapses to the floor, distracted by your presence.

"Belova! Did you finish your pushups?" Carol's authorative voice rings out, stopping everyone in their tracks. Yelena gulps, shaking her head subtly. "Well, I guess you'll have to start again then." She smiles cruelly but before Yelena can start, you tug on Carol's shirt gently.

"C'mon Carol. Don't be so mean. She almost finished those pushups. Didn't you?" You glance meaningfully at Yelena who pauses before nodding vigorously. Carol arches an eyebrow.

"It's true!" The brunette says, coming to her aid. Carol sighs.

"Alright fine newbie. But next time, I won't be so lenient." You send a cheeky wink and smile to Yelena who smiles back, a light fluttering feeling erupting in her stomach as she continued her stretches.

-=+=-

"Mmmm..." you groan, squirming away from Carol as she attempts to lay down on your stomach.

"Noooo come back!" She whines.

"Your hair is itching my face." You complain, pushing her off playfully. She doesn't budge, instead staring down at you, her arms on either side of your head. You gulp as she her deep brown eyes bore into yours. "Carol."

"Shhhhh," she shushes you, her eyes flickering over your lips.

Without a moment to waste, she slams her lips onto yours and you let out a little shriek of surprise. Her kisses are rough, a battle for dominance in the most violent ways possible, her tongue thrashing around in your mouth, reaching places you didn't even know existed.

Her arms slither around your waist, pulling you even closer.

It was going to be a long night.

-=+=- You whoop as Carol leaps, scoring a slam dunk before landing on the ground in what you consider 'her superhero pose.' You snort.

"What a poser." You mutter under your breath. To your surprise you're not the only one. Yelena's eyebrows are furrowed, watching as Carol slowly gets back up, a cocky smirk on her face as her teammates congratulate her.

You lock eyes and you smile briefly at her before returning your attention to the game in front of you.

-=+=-

"Let's get drunk!" Tony screams and the group hollers, making you wince. Carol presses a firm kiss to your temple.

"I'll be right back." You nod meekly, watching as she disappears in the sea of people. Sighing, you lean against the table, propping your head up on your arm.

Carol never came back. You sat there for what felt like hours 'till a soft hand tapped you on the shoulder.

"Hey." You turn to find Yelena, her fingers fidgeting with the cuff of her jacket.

"Hey." She watches you carefully as you scan the crowds, searching for any sign of the tall Captain.

"You looking for Carol?" You shrug nonchalantly, not quite ready to confront what you had with her. Ever since that night, Carol had grown possessive in a more then friendly way yet she made no move to ask you out properly. You were stuck in a limbo. Were you really together? Or was it all just a once off to sate her appetite.

Taking in your distant expression, she slips her hand into yours, bringing you back.

"Want to go outside?" You nod slowly, reveling in the feeling of her hand in yours.

The two of you sit down on the porch of Tony's massive home, the cold air stinging your face. You shiver, pulling your legs closer to your body. A thick jacket drapes over your shoulders.

"Here." Yelena smiles at you and you shake your head, making to give it back to her.

"Oh no no no. I can't take this. You'll be cold!" She pushes the jacket back onto you, her hand covering yours.

"Don't worry дорогой (sweetheart), I'm Russian." She chuckles at her own joke but your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"What you just called me." She freezes.

"It's nothing. Just a nickname." You arch an eyebrow, smirking.

"Better not be anything bad." She instantly backtracks.

"No no no! Of course not! I'd never say anything bad about you-" You chuckle at the girl's flustered state.

"Relax. I'm messing with you Lena." She exhales, relief flooding her features, squeezing your hand gently.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about somethi-" Somebody clears their throat behind you. Your head whips around to find Carol, her jaw slightly clenched, posture tense.

"Am I interrupting something?" You slip your hand from Yelena's, not noticing the crestfallen look on her face.

"No! Not at all." You smile at her.

"We're leaving." Carol says, her eyes scanning the jacket draped over your figure.

"Oh. Okay then. Bye Lena!" You follow Carol like an obedient puppy through the throngs of drunk high schoolers.

"Bye..." Yelena mutters, waving weakly as she watches Carol drag you away.

-=+=-

"H-Hey! Y/N!" Yelena jogs up to you, her hands behind her back. You arch an eyebrow at her suspicious behavior.

"Hi Lena. What's up?" She scratches the back of her head with one of her hands nervously.

"Well I uh, I got you a gift and uhm-" She stutters nervously and you can't help but admire her flushed cheeks, her gentle hazel eyes, the tangled blonde hair cascading down her back as she rambles on and on. "-oh fuck it. Here." She shoves a bouquet of your favorite Edelweiss flowers into your hands.

You gape at her, as she shoves her hands into her pockets, watching you closely as you examine the flowers.

They're gorgeous, by far the best flowers you've ever gotten.

"How did you know what my favorite flowers were? You stalking me?" You tease, watching as the girl turn's bright red.

"No! Of course not. I respect you way too much to do something like that." She sputters and you can't help but smile at her adorable rambling.

"I'm messing with you. They're wonderful flowers. Thank you," you smile at each other, her eyes darting around your face skittishly as if not sure where to look.

In a moment of bravery, you dart forwards, pressing your lips to her cheek, letting it linger before pulling away.

"Thank you," you murmur, your breath fanning across her cheek before you disappear, leaving her alone in the hallway.

-=+=-

A strong figure pulls you into the locker rooms as you walk by and you yelp. They pull you into a strong kiss leaving your mind hazy. The familiar scent of coffee beans and flowery perfume fills your senses. Carol.

"You wanna tell me what's going on between you and Belova?" She growls between heated, open mouthed kisses.

"N-nothing-" her grip on your throat tightens. "I-I swear!" Her grip loosens and you gasp, desperately breathing in as much air as possible. She continues to scatter kisses down you jawline and neck while you breathe heavily.

"So beautiful..."

"You're insane," you breathe out, your breath hitching when she gently nips your earlobe.

"But you love it." You shiver, gently pushing her off.

"No." Carol stares at you, confused. "You don't get to act this way when you haven't made an effort to clear up what we are."

"What?" Her face scrunches up in confusion and you scoff.

"Don't 'what' me. At least Yelena treats me like a person and not some thing you can fuck with when you're bored."

"No wait-"

"No. No more." You exit the locker room, leaving Carol alone, wracking her brain for a way to make it up to you.

-=+=-

You're lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, replaying your lovely conversation with Carol when a small clink! echoes out through the room.

You place your phone on your bedside table, shuffling to the window.

No one's there.

Frowning, you're about to return to the comfort of your bed when another item hits your window and clatters to the windowsill. You open your window, squinting into the darkness when you see it. First, the dark shape of a mound of pebbles and then the silhouette of a person.

Something sparkles in the moonlight, catching your eye. You scoop it up in your hand. A paper airplane covered in glitter. You snort, unfolding it carefully.

Come down.

You don't need to be told twice. Stuffing the note into your pocket, you slip down the stairs and out the back door.

"Hi." Your head whirls around so fast, you can practically hear your neck snapping.

"God Belova. You can't just show up at my home at," you glance at your wristwatch. 11:49 PM. "12:00 at night!" She grimaces.

"Well, it's technically 11:49," you roll your eyes. "Sorry. I can leave if you want." She moves to grab your bike but to her surprise and yours, you stop her, you hand clutching her wrist.

"Wait." You pause. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to leave." She smiles internally before turning back to you.

"I don't want to leave either," she confesses and you smile. "I'm here because I wanted to tell you something." Your breath hitches in your throat. "I want you to know that you deserve so much more then Carol. What does she have to give you? I want to be the one to hold you when you wake up and the one to hold you when you go to sleep. I want to be there for the best parts of your life and help you through the worst. I want you." She rants, panting when she finishes. You're speechless, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "S-sorry. I understand if you don't feel the same." She mutters, mistaking your surprise for rejection.

"No! No no no no!" You ramble, pulling her towards you. Her breath hitches at the close proximity. "I was just shocked." She glances down at your lips before locking eyes with you again, asking a silent question.

Yes.

She leans forwards slowly, giving you time to shrink away but you never do. Your lips meet in a trembling, tentative kiss.

"So, does this mean I can take you out?" Yelena murmurs when you pull apart.

"For you, always."

-=+=-

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot @olsensnpm @peabrain-likes2read @marvelwomen-simp

#yelena belova x reader #carol danvers x reader

283 notes · View notes

wri0thesley · 3 years

Text

A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned.

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation) ♡ (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen, and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk teacher aid au #jjk writing #writing

719 notes · View notes