#because I was a TINY teenage girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luv-gukkie · 10 days

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★ little, naive thing ★

pairing: yandere! jeon jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || yandere

summary: a small cuddle takes jungkook back down memory lane; a time where he could only admire your pretty-self from afar with a burning need to make you his, an idea your little boyfriend wasn’t so fond of.

word count: +4.8k

tags/warnings: cockwarming, boobie kisses, dom! jungkook, sub!reader, jungkook worships reader, he switches up real fast, size difference, smooches here and there, jungkook manhandles reader, he's possessive, degrading comments, public sex? (don't worry? no one catches them), jungkook gets into a fight, he hurts himself, manipulation, jk lies, talk about marriage ;), degrading comments, jungkook gets a tattoo of..., unprotected sex (don't be silly), reader was his first (for EVERYTHING), he's in love LOVE

notes: hope you enjoy it! i’ll try to post the small writing about yoongi soon :)

༻❤︎︎ ★ ★ ❤︎︎༺

"no, no, no, no!" jungkook yells with a small smile as his hands covered his face, acting as if he was sad. you sing out a little chant, sticking your tongue out at him. he can't help but hide his laugh at your taunts and the small dance you do behind his hands. you're so cute, jungkook thinks as he stares at you through the gap between his fingers. the playback of your pink character, cat peach, flashes through the television screen as it shows her first through the finish line seconds before tanooki mario, jungkook's character, crosses through it as well. he groans in pain, "i was so close." he can't believe how good you've gotten at mario kart 8. it's unbelievable how fast you've learned. "wanna know my secret?" you whisper softly as if there were people around you; even though both of you are alone in your shared apartment, with the only witnesses being bam, the big and strong doberman, and cinnabon, your cute, tiny bunny. the pair lay together (similar to jungkook and you) on bam's huge bed, cuddled into each other, hiding behind their floppy ears. with the same mischievous tone, jungkook whispers back, "i have to know." you smile before leaning in closer to his ear and before he knows it, he's backing away, tricked and played. jungkook covers his ear, recovering from your surprise shriek. you giggle at his reaction before going in to leave kisses on his face all around. "sorry", you giggle as he "tries" to get away from you, but it's impossible because you two sit together squished on a bean bag.

as he sees you laugh, memories with you flash through his mind. it takes him back to the start of his love to you; all the way in high school.

jungkook has never been social to begin with. he's always been a little timid and shy compared to others, but it didn't meant he couldn't experience the same things others his age were experiencing. puberty had hit him hard. jungkook had grown too fast over the heat of summer. his voice was no longer of a teenage boy, but one of a grown man. the change into manhood had girls confessing their admiration to him left and right, but he's never been too interested in starting a relationship in the first place. it's not until he landed his eyes onto dainty, little you.

jungkook remembers it was the first day of sophomore year, the summer had tanned him a bit from being a life guard at the public pool and he had grown his muscles. jungkook's eyes wandered around the new classroom, recognizing everyone's faces, but stammering at an almost unrecognizable face. the reddish lipgloss you wear shines on your plump lips, a slight blush on your cheeks and your eyelashes have darkened with mascara. it's clear that he's not the only one who's changed over the summer. your hair is styled perfectly with a nice hairstyle that makes it even cuter. but it's the glimmer in your eyes that attract him the most especially with that faint, flirtatious smile you put on as you smile at the boy who holds your hand. the realization hits jungkook, why the fuck are you holding that boy's hands? that boy probably didn't even know you existed last year so why were you giving him such a lovely look? he thinks he's been staring too long when the guy turns around to glare at him and sticks his middle finger out when you turn around to talk to your friend.

shit.

it would've been a whatever to jungkook, but now, he keeps seeing you everywhere since he's noticed you. and it's not fair that your fucking boyfriend follows you everywhere you go, always in your shadow and never not. and it's like your boyfriend feels notices the glances he throws at you and sends him nasty glares whenever he gets the chance. jungkook fucking hates his ass. hates how he's gotten obsessive over you when he barely knows you; when you don't even know him. he doesn't like the feeling really, but he can't ignore it either so he does everything he can to get the little lovebirds to separate for his sake. eventually a small little rumor breaks things apart and he can't help the little smile that breaks free when the gossip he started reaches his ears. its times like this when jungkook is thankful to the loudmouths his classmates have. and it's like the heavens heard of his prayers when in no time, he had you in his grasp for life.

you don't even find out about jungkook being hurt until your lunch time. the whispers of jungkook's name are loud and seem true enough that you dash out when you hear a short version of the story. you're over the top worried for jungkook. your heart hurts, your eyes are blurring up and sweat is building up on your forehead as you get nearer to the nurse's office. when you find him sitting with a bandages across his arms and hand, fists bloodied and his nose still slightly dripping with blood. and even as the dark bruises are hurting him, red running down his nose and his arms onto the once white bandages, he runs to you with a call of your name and a helpless expression on his face. you let out a painful sob at his delicate form, "jungkookie, this is all my fault. i'm so sorry, you shouldn't be like this." jungkook doesn't deny your claims, tearing into your neck as his arms hug your waist in a tight embrace. you promise to take care of him and you do by spending every single second next to him, making sure he's not hurting. not noticing the sly smile he had on each time you turned around because of how his dumb little girlfriend didn't realize the blood on him wasn't his, but of your ex-boyfriend.

you ignore your ex. can't stand thinking about that stupid idiot, much less seeing him so you make a clear decision to avoid him or anything that has to do with him. sharing your decision with your friends so that they don't even speak of his existence. your blood boils at the fact that he dared to throw insults and then hurt jungkook, provoking you further. unbeknownst to you, your ex-boyfriend was stuck spending his time in the hospital. so it comes to your surprise when you do see him, his arm is in a cast along with his nose covered in white with bruises surrounding it. he's practically limping with each step he takes. when you two make eye contact, your eyes fidget to your phone to tried to avoid him. ignorance that's made harder when he decides to call after you. you're firm as you continue walking but turn around soon after, when you hear the crutches hitting the floor behind each step you take. he whispers about how you should leave jungkook; that there's something wrong with him. but the annoyed look you give him tells him you won't. "leave me alone," is the only thing you utter and before you know it, he's taking your hand as your about to leave and leaning in closer. "___, he's fucking crazy." the terrified look in his eyes is more than enough to scare you, but you're distracted when your eyes spot jungkook's pained ones.

you don’t hesitate to run after jungkook, leaving your ex behind in a hopeless state. you're not able to catch up, but following the sound of his footsteps is good enough to lead you to the back of the school. "jungkook?" you shout for him, wondering where he was. "why are you fucking talking to him?" his harsh tone has you in a ruined state in no time. jungkook has never talked to you in such a way, your mind tells you it's all your fault he's like this. you go to hug him, but all he does is move back and you notice that the tears in his eyes are gone.

jungkook doesn't like what he saw at all. all your words are nothing to him right now; all he feels is anger and jealousy in him. "talking to that piece of shit after he talked bad about you, after he fucking attacked me." he gulps before continuing with a lower tone, "baby, is there absolutely nothing in that pretty little head of yours? you let him hold your hand even after everything. you let him touch what doesn't belong to him." you're crying at this point, telling jungkook that it meant nothing and you only have eyes for him. it's in that moment a light bulb goes on in his head; he's got you right where he wants you. "prove it." his demand confuses you, a small "how?" leaves your lips. you follow his gaze before realizing what he wanted. "will you forgive me?" you question, the hope evident in your mellow tone. "of course, baby." you're about to get down on your knees before he stops you, "nuh uh, pretty," his fingers playing around with the necklace he gave you, "it's something else that i want. c'mon you got this, put two and two together." a mocking tone as he talks to you in a childlike manner. it's in that moment that you realize where both of you still are: school. you don't know how the information left your head, but you shake your head at jungkook. "we're still at school kook, anyone could see us and we could get in trouble." you speak softly, hoping he agrees with you. your palms feel sweaty at his request. it's like a switch-up when he stays quiet for a while, different to how he acted minutes ago but you don't notice. you watch as his bandaged hand tugs a couple of hairs behind your ear.

jungkook wipes his nose with the same bandaged fist that's covered in blood and his bangs slightly reveal the dark purple bruise on his forehead. "please." he begs with a soft voice and with his pretty eyes, you're convinced enough. you just can't deny him, especially after he fought for you; because of you. jungkook got hurt to protect you from that idiot you once called your boyfriend, and you can't help but blame yourself for it. jungkook ruined his reputation for a stupid fight. it's all your fault, so you let him get closer to you. you let him back you up into the hidden corner outside of the school. you wrap your small hands around his neck and let him kiss you. jungkook pushes you into him, his tongue is quick to explore your own. his saliva drips onto your lips and leaves it all messy. his fingers go to unbutton your white button shirt, undoing the blue collar. "you're so pretty, ___." he whines as he licks up your neck in a hurry and sucks it with need until pinkish skin is shown and teeth marks are left. it doesn't help him that the school uniform looks so good on you. the thigh high blue socks the schools requires only feeds on to his desires. and to top it off, you have to wear a blue (mini-looking) skirt with the basically transparent button shirt. and he can't forget the little decorations that you add on, which only fuels his fantasy to have you under him. a little red bow you add on to your hair and the jewelry you add on to your wrist and neck. especially the one that's wrapped around your neck, a sparkling j in the center.

a clear memory goes through jungkook when he raises the skirt he loves on you because it's not the first time he's gotten a peak at what you hide under that skirt; he's seen it multiple times, even before you two started going out but you don't have to know that. he knows he shouldn't have looked, but you wouldn't have minded. would you? either way, he couldn't help it. jungkook's eyes wandered when he was around you. he would ignore the arm that wrapped around your waist (the douche bag you called your boyfriend) and stare hard as fantasies played in his head. he loves the way your tits are so tight in that stupid shirt. he knows he's a pervert for gawking so hard at your ass when you walk pass him, or sometimes taking a peek at what hides underneath. but, he also wished that it was him that was hugging you and kissing you. it would be his dream come true. and maybe, it was just his luck when he saw your panties as you tripped on some rubbish on the ground. thinking that no one was around, you stayed on the ground for a while; whimpering in pain, knees scraped and legs apart, giving jungkook the perfect view of your covered pussy. you didn't wear shorts underneath your skirt, it's like you wanted him to see you in such an intimate way. he swore he felt drool falling out of the corners of his mouth at the sight. he couldn't stop staring (and definitely couldn't forget) at how your body was spread apart on the ground. jungkook doesn't remember how long he stood there before coming to help you, meanwhile trying to hide the hard-on that was growing in frustration. jungkook definitely had luck on his side that day, because soon after, both of you would start to hang out more. it was enough time to indulge your mind and heart.

when you both started dating, you both sat next to each other in almost all your classes. you let his hands play with the trim of your skirt and caress your upper thigh whenever he wanted. ignoring how each time his fingers inched closer to your panties. you were so nice to him. whenever you bent over the slightest, your skirt was basically hanging off your hips, revealing your cute little panties. and now he gets to see them all over again. "shit," he groans at the ache in his cock. you were so enticing with your white panties and the little bow right on the center that he'll never get tired of. but jungkook's too desperate, so he is quick to tug down the flimsy material. quickly choosing to hide it away in his pockets. breath stuttering at your bare, wet cunt. "___, you're so fucking pretty." his finger slides against your slit, immediately getting soaked. his thumb is quick to follow towards your clit, pinching and teasing it until he hears you start to whimper. he turns to you around to place a messy kiss on your lips, tongue dipping in to touch your own as he takes off his pants desperately. his cock is bulging and has left a mess in his boxers, but he pushes it down.

a sigh leaves his lips when his cock stands straight, hitting his abdomen. you don't even get a look before he turns you again and bends you against the brick wall. you feel your heart pound in your chest. "kookie, anyone could find us," you stutter out, a small glob escaping your gaping hole. 'cute', is all he thinks before pressing his hot cock head against your cunt. "shit baby, i have to bend my knees to reach you," he snickers out loud. he can't help the grin that escapes him out of the realization; you're so small compared to him. his shadow completely covers you under him, his hands are huge compared to yours and he can carry you like you're nothing. he's about to press in when you ask if he has a condom. it makes jungkook remember his trip to the pharmacy days before, staring at the pack of condoms he was going to take as he left the store. it brings back the sick pleasure he had then, the need to fuck you raw and full of him. he stands back to his full stature as he softly whispers an apology that he didn't have a single one. he feels slightly angered at the silence you give him, but you wouldn't know because you face the other way. "s' okay kookie i guess." he taunts you in his head, annoyed that you had him standing with a hard cock like an idiot just to ask him for stupid things.

it's already a painful feeling as he pumps his cock. the slit on his tip has precum dribble out. so in return he chooses not to bend down to your height. his hands grip harder onto your hips, the pressure causing you to fuss and arch your back in response. a shriek of his name and a desperate attempt to hold onto the wall distracts you as he lifts you up to the height of his hips by wrapping one arm around your stomach. his other hand directs his drooling cock head into your pussy. as he forces his dick in, your mouth widens as a silent moan escapes you. the tip of his cock is thick and hot. you can hear him pant heavily, calling you sweet names as he watches with heavy eyes as he keeps pushing in until his hips meet your own and the tip shoves right up against your womb.

you can feel tears in your eyes at the way his fat cock is nestled deep inside your cunt. the veins that run down him are perfect and his length excites you. jungkook curses silently as he sees his cock getting drenched off the globs of your slimy slick. he's speechless on how good your pussy feels, surprised he's not busting a nut so far. all he knows is that he'd get on his knees over and over to get just a look at your cunt. it doesn't help that you're practically hanging off his cock, back bending so beautifully to reach him, while your tits are begging to spill out your half-opened shirt. it makes him smug knowing that you could fall if he simply let go of your hips. your legs are dangling mid-air as he fucks you deep and slow for the couple first thrusts before completely switching into a different pace. he feels heavy inside your cunt. all you can think about is him, each time jungkook rams his cock head directly into your sweet spot.

your tiny mouth lets out the dirtiest sultry noises he's ever heard. you sob about how his cock is too big. "kookie," you wail as his cock easily pokes and pushes against your sweet spot and cervix at the same time. you feel the heat from his angry tip that oozes out more chunks of precum, reminding you that he isn't wearing a condom. but you're left dumb with your eyes rolled back when his fingers tease your bud in a hurried pace. jungkook feels your walls squeeze tight on him and it causes a throaty groan to leave his lips. "wet my cock, my pretty baby" he mutters. you shake as jungkook continues stretching your pussy hole out. and with an airless moan, you squirt your juices on his abdomen and the base of his cock. his eyes fill with curiosity at the wetness he feels leak all down his cock and thighs. "s-so perfect for me. little hole gonna be gaping when i leave it. gonna stuff you full of me, isn't that want you want? my little dumb girlfriend wants me to fill her with my cum." jungkook can't help but moan at how your pussy swallows him whole, accepting every inch of him in your hot walls even if he's bigger than you can handle. "gonna be my cock sleeve, perfect for it. wet, little cunt s' clenching around me like a bitch in heat."

he feels the heat crawl up to his face, and it doesn't help that the sweat on his forehead makes his hair stick to his face. he smells your perfume as it begins to stick on him and he fucking loves it. loves that he can grab a full fist of your hair and the only thing you'll do is cry out his name and wet his cock over and over as he goes faster. jungkook leans down to place sloppy kisses down your back, nearing your ear to whisper dirty words that have your cunt clenching tighter around him. the moans you let loose are loud and messy, forgetting your still in school. "people should see how good my baby takes cock, can't compare with no one else, right?" a question you don't answer, or can barely make out with how loud your ass smacks against him. "pussy so filthy and tight, ready to take my cock at anytime and anywhere." you're about to release all over again when jungkook stops to slowly pull back his hips. you whine in frustration, but soon forget when he drags his cock back into your cunt, making sure you feel each vein and curve.

the breathy whines you let out almost drown out the lewd squelches of the bottom of his shaft meeting your bare pussy. jungkook can't hold back the huff, "oh, fuck yes. cute cunt leaking just for me, sucking me right back in," his jaw clenches at how wet you are. each time he sank further, his pace began to pick up with an impatient desire to fuck you harder. "my good girlfriend, s' pretty when she's desperate for cock, my cock." he says mockingly.

"i'm gonna cum," you gasp out with each word. jungkook's fingers make their way to your lips, passing them to reach your tongue. "me too," is all he says before pulling out once more to turn you around and place you right back on his cock. "you look s' fucked out, baby," he whispers with a smug smile on his face, "pussy gonna be nice and stuffed with my cum, yeah?" he's quick to connect your lips together as you squirt from the overstimulation, hiding his desperate groans. you feel his cock spill warm loads of his cum inside you. small curses coming out of his mouth as he continues to runt against you, slobs of cum still leaking into you. you moan at the globs of cum slide down your inner thighs and onto the ground. his voice is soft when he talks to you and carefully holds you onto him. "you're so good to me; my good girlfriend, yeah?" he ignores the way you trace his dark bruises and brushes your hair out. he'll never let that stupid fuck get close to you again. it's not that he's scared of him, but rather of what nonsense he's gonna say. it's best if you don't know that jungkook started the fight, that he went home and hurt himself to make the bruises etched into his skin; smacking his head against the wall until he bled and couldn't think of anything but you and slammed one of his dad's metal tools against his hands to have you next to him, cause jungkook would really do anything for you.

"jungkook, what are you thinking about?" your voice breaks him out of train of thought, "about us." he responds without hesitation, because really, when is he not. his hands rub your waist, slowly taking you onto his lap. you smile at him and it's like he's in love all over again with you. and he hopes you feel the same as he takes his left hand into yours, "i want us to be together forever, ___." you watch the way his doe eyes show you all the love he has for you. you're lucky you've always had jungkook be this affectionate. he's always willing to take you out to a restaurant on late nights, picnics almost every week during the summer, and it's always refreshing to be with him. never once has he failed you, so you can't help the heart-warming feeling in you right now, watching a smile break through his face when you agree with him. "i've loved you from the very start, and i can't wait until we start a new chapter together," he pauses for a while, holding you tighter against his chest, "and you know that i've always wanted to put a ring on your finger, and if you're ready, i'll be more than happy to give you any ring you want." your lips find their way to his as you kiss him with everything you have, "i love you jungkook."

he doesn't even have a chance to respond before you're kissing him again, because you know that he does love you. it's in his eyes; his smile; in everything he does. you're shown love through every gesture he does, like the tattoo he surprised you with last week. big, pretty letters that are deeply inked into the skin of his chest for eternity. these pretty letters that make your name and are surrounded by the soft-feathered wings of beautiful angels. his tattooed hands dig into your hips, angling you on top of his hardened cock. his hand grabbing your jaw, squishing your cheeks and lips as you move your loose shorts to the side. with a harsh tug, jungkook's sweatpants end up at his knees. there's a big pearl of precum on his head, slightly leaking down his base. at the sight, you feel your cunt pulse. jungkook's hands massage your ass as he makes his way back up to unclip your bra. jungkook pumps his cock with your hands, cooing at how small they are. he pushes himself inside your swollen cunt, and it's hard to control himself when your tiny cunt violently clamps around his thick base, taking all of him in. you're moaning desperately into his ear distracting him from your painted nails leaving deep red marks on his abdomen. his lips wrap themselves around you tits, leaving trails of saliva behind before kissing the spots.

"faster, kookie," you cry out as you feel your orgasm at the pit of your stomach. your ass repeatedly meets his pelvis with a burning pain. you're begging for release when his thumb plays with your nub and his mouth is sucking your tits. "little hole dripping all around me, ain't that right baby," a shaky gasp he lets out while his cock makes you reach your high. tears roll down your cheeks at the overstimulation when he grinds himself into your sopping cunt. "gonna make a mess in this pussy," he groans before shoving his warm load deep inside your sore cunt. a little gasp escapes your mouth at how stuffed your tummy is.

just as your hands begin to slide off his shoulders, ready to fix yourself up, jungkook pulls you in close enough that your chest is touching his. you can't even speak when he begins to softly pound into your spent pussy which has you whimpering. there's a cocky grin on his face that you want to wipe off, but it's hard when your oversensitivity makes you weak. with a faint call of his name, jungkook finally halts his sensual motions with a replaced giddy smile, "i love having you in my arms."

as the minutes past, he takes note of your sleepy head dozing off into his neck. jungkook envelopes you into a cozy cuddle as he watches the blarring tv whilst his racing mind drags on with repeated memories of the past; haunting reminders that should never be brought up. he digs his head into your hair, fingers gently kneading into your scalp making his beating heart calm its pace. everything he's done was for you. the thing is jungkook can't limit himself when he's around you. it's a suffocating feeling that indulges every ounce of his body. it fills him with a need to protect you, and it makes him go mad in the head sometimes. it causes him to commit foolish acts of violence against those who he thinks have a role in your life. though, he's gotten better with the persistent idea of becoming a better man for you; a better future husband; a better future father. jungkook's lips turn up at the ends at the sleepy noises you make. "i love you."

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chelseeebe · 8 months

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seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfic

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drak3n · 5 months

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VETERINARIAN!SATORU

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, loss of a pet, poisoning, smut, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy and children, dad!gojo, this one’s kinda sad but it ends well i promise!!

sena’s note: i was torn between dentist or vet!gojo and then i was like… all animal-loving men can get it and so can gojo.

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ VET!SATORU who had studied and graduated abroad, having finished his studies with excellent grades and a bright future ahead of him

➩ VET!SATORU who had a hell lot of patients, and who was aware that over half of them were pets owned by ladies yearning to see the attractive young doc in scrubs, which he couldn’t blame them for

➩ VET!SATORU who never rejected new patients even when his assistants complained multiple times about how overbooked the calendar always was, because to him, all that mattered was to nurse all furry little babies back to health

➩ VET!SATORU who was about to close the clinic one evening, his assistants all having left long ago, just to hear the sounds of faint footsteps rushing to approach the clinic

“please, please help him! i— he’s been poisoned, i couldn’t—”

your sobs were cut off by satoru immediately unlocking the door he had locked seconds ago, and he tenderly took the faint cocker spaniel from your shaking arms. he was barely breathing, and foaming at the mouth.

“miss, try to calm down,” he told you calmly, pointing at one of the chairs in the treatment room when he saw how distraught you were. he would love to cheer you up right now, but time was critical. very much so. “please sit down. i’ll do anything i can.”

you mumbled prayers under your breath as you watched satoru checking your baby’s vitals, injecting apomorphine intravenously to induce vomiting. but it was too late.

➩ VET!SATORU who spent the next few hours in the clinic, watching you break down over your best friend’s loss as you fondled and kissed him, unable to let go; who despite loving his profession so dearly, couldn’t help but loathe it at times like these

➩ VET!SATORU who felt incredibly guilty watching you leave with the unmoving body of your senior dog’s in your arms after you told him you’d be burying him in your parents’ house garden

➩ VET!SATORU who couldn’t really sleep after that, his mind occupied with the images of you desperately trying to save your pawed friend and who grieved the loss of a companion from your teenage years

➩ VET!SATORU who took in two puppies who had been left in a box in front of the clinic, both pretty shades of brown, one of which had the same slightly curled fur as the dog that had slipped from his fingers and he had failed to save

➩ VET!SATORU who walked into the clinic one morning, greeting all waiting patients and their owners enthusiastically, just to pause when he sighted you standing at the counter

➩ VET!SATORU who called you inside first and watched through shaded glasses as you handed him a bag, your eyes dampening when you stared at the table your dog had taken his last breath on

“i forgot to thank you for your services and how you tried everything to save him,” you said softly, voice wavering, “i will pay for it before leaving, i just wanted to give you this.” he swiftly shook his head no, hesitantly accepting the bag to take a look inside. it was a box of chocolates and a bag of dog treats.

“these were his favorites,” you pointed out, chuckling nostalgically, “used to gobble them up like there was no tomorrow. i figured that the other girls and boys who come here might want to try what my boy loved.”

➩ VET!SATORU who excused himself for a second and returned with two tiny pups in his arms who wagged their tails at the charming young man, watching the way your eyes lit up at both of them

“some vile person just abandoned them in front of the clinic. they resemble your baby, don’t you think? i was going to keep both because i never give any animal away, but if you—”

“yes, absolutely!”

you carefully accepted one of the pups, cooing softly when it yipped and snuggled into your touch. satoru just smiled when you then stared at the other pup, seeing the obvious resemblance between them.

“i wouldn’t want to seperate them, though.”

he fell in love with you at that very moment.

“this little, handsome buddy is welcome to come and visit his lovely sister anytime.” he was happy that he finally got to see you smile and laugh.

➩ VET!SATORU who knew that you were the one when he saw you tending to your new pup with the utmost care, always eager to learn more about how how to handle and raise a puppy correctly

➩ VET!SATORU who already had a little family with you, because was there anything more intimate and sweet than having pets together? — but who couldn’t help but wish to have children with you as well

➩ VET!SATORU who was thrilled to find out the feeling was mutual

“wha— you’re off the pill?”

satoru was in the middle of fucking into you skillfully when you confessed it to him. you whimpered at his sudden lack of movement, nodding bashfully. “i know this is not the right time, but—,” you babbled, taking his hand to guide it to your lower belly, “‘m ready, satoru.”

his mind wandered to you swollen with your beautiful kids, tits leaking with your nourishing, sweet milk and face gifted with a natural pregnancy glow — not that you needed it.

“cum inside, ‘toru,” you whined against the pretty veterinarian’s kisses in-between his hips snapping against yours, “make me a mommy. gimme all of it.”

there was no way in hell that satoru wasn’t going to knock you up after this. and put a pretty little ring on your finger, of course.

➩ VET!SATORU who knew he had all he wanted as he saw you walk into the clinic a year later to visit your husband with your tiny babygirl on your arm, a spitting image of her father, and your two former pups on a leash, now grown in size as they wagged their tails wildly upon seeing the tall man in scrubs

➩ VET!SATORU who wondered if you’d say yes to a second child…

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guccifrog · 1 month

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SHE🧸💸

chris sturniolo × f! reader the muwapgucci collab 🌺🍑 : in which matt and chris sturniolo are just two unexperienced losers @muwapsturniolo

Now Playing 🌺🍑

[she- tyler the creator, frank ocean] 0:26 ———♡——— 3:50 ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

"ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃˡᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵘʳᵇᵃᵗᵉ"

"FUCK!" Chris yelled as he slammed his fist against the desk, the veins in his neck bulging. He glared at the screen, where his character lay defeated on the floor. Matt and Nate were both grinning smugly on the screen. "It's not fair" he muttered under his breath.

"Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time playing you wouldn't lose," Nate taunted from the screen. "Come on, kid, you're letting us win on purpose, aren't you?" He teased, shaking his head.

Chris rolled his eyes at Nate's comment, not bothering to respond. He knew they were just trying to get under his skin.

He was convinced that the only reason he lost was because he wasn't familiar with the game Matt had suggested, he was sure that if it was a different game he would've kicked their asses. Why you may ask? simply because Chris was aware of the fact that he was a loser, it wasn't a secret that he spent most of his free time playing video games, instead of doing what other teenagers his age do. Chris was a nerd and he knew it. He didn't have many friends, he didn't go to parties, he never had a girlfriend, hell he never even got his first kiss.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, his hand resting lazily on the mouse. As he opened a new window on his computer, looking for a new game to play, until Matt and Nate were done with their current match.

Suddenly, the computer glitches out, the screen flashing a blue color. "What the fuck?" Chris mutters, confused. He slammed the mouse against the desk, making the screen go completely black. But before he could do anything else, the screen turns back on.

"Hey, what's going on?" Nate asks from the screen, his voice filled with confusion.

"My fucking screen was glitching out!" Chris paused. "And then it just...turned back on."

"Just check the cables"Matt suggested, before going back to the game.

"Maybe I should," Chris muttered, leaning forward to inspect the cables connected to his monitor. As he pulled out the cables, one of them snags on something on his desk, causing it to swing wildly. He reaches out to steady it but accidentally clicks on a random notification in the corner of the screen.

"A stream? " he wonders, clicking on the link, curious to see who's streaming. He opens the window and The first thing he sees is a beautiful woman, her hair spilling down her back. A white oversized button-up barely covering her lacey black bra and a tiny black thong. Her long legs were crossed, one hand toying with a strand of her hair as she read the comments from her viewers.

Chris's breath hitched as he recognized the familiar face, he had seen countless times in the back of chemistry class, or walking down the hallway. A pair of thick-framed glasses usually covered her eyes, She was the quiet girl that no one really paid attention to. He always thought she was weird, the way she dressed, and the fact that she never seemed to have any friends. she'd always be by herself, sitting in a corner, always with her headphones on, and as soon as the bell rang, she'd quickly disappear.

He rubbed his eyes, thinking maybe he was hallucinating. He still couldn't believe it. There she was, on a live stream. Her face was slightly flushed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she read through the comments. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. Her tits moved slightly as she leaned forward, her breath hitching as she laughed at something someone had said.

"by the way guys" her voice came through his headset like a whisper, "I ordered some new lingerie and they came today" She paused, giving her viewers a wink before continuing " I'm going to give you guys a special show " her voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down Chris's spine.

Chris felt his heart racing, his palms growing sweaty as he watched her. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was insane. She was going to do a show for them? A show? He didn't know what that meant, but it sounded dirty.

As he continued to watch, she reached up and slowly began to unbutton her shirt, making the whole process last for what seemed like an eternity. Her breasts, perfectly round and full, spilled out of her lacy bra, and she leaned back in her chair, giving the viewers a nice show.

Chris's eyes were wide as he watched, his mouth going dry. he felt a strange mix of excitement and shame coursing through his veins. He glanced around, making sure no one was watching him, before returning his attention to the screen.

His eyes darted between the screen and her breasts, mesmerized by the sight before him. He felt his pants growing tight as she continued to tease her viewers, slowly sliding her fingers down her stomach, revealing more and more of her body.

He felt like he was watching a dream, some sort of surreal experience that he couldn't wake up from. His heart pounded in his chest, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He could feel the warmth spreading through his body, pooling in places it hadn't before. He never felt this way before.

"Fuck" Chris muttered under his breath as her finger brushed against her panties. He glanced at Nate and Matt, who were still oblivious to what was happening, and back to the screen. He felt ashamed, this wasn't the kind of thing he should be watching, but he couldn't look away. Her hand slid further down, and for a brief moment, she parted her lips, a soft moan escaping her mouth. He bit down on his lip, trying to control the growing need in his pants, His heart raced as he watched her, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks as she closed her eyes.

"take it off?" She read a comment and chuckled before leaning forward even more" You guys know the rules" she winked, taking another deep breath as her fingers brushed against her soaked panties.

MILFPLEASER sent one thousand dollars!

Chris froze, his eyes wide with disbelief as he read the message on the screen.

she let out a laugh, a mix of surprise and delight. "Goodness," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well if you insist..." Her gaze flicked up to meet the camera for a brief moment before darting away again. She moved her hands to her waistband, slowly sliding down her panties, revealing her smooth, wet folds. A gasp escaped her lips as the cool air of the room brushed against her. Her face flushed with excitement, as she bit her lip, trying to steady her breath.

Chris couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was beyond anything he had ever imagined, and his throat felt tight. He glanced down at his pants, wondering if he'd be able to maintain his composure for much longer.

As she continued to tease the viewers, she moved her hips back and forth, rocking her body in time with the sensation. Her breasts swayed with each movement, and her eyes were half-closed, lost in the pleasure. Chris felt like he was intruding on something private, but he just couldn't look away.

His hips jerked forward as he watched her, his breath coming in uneven gasps. He could feel the blood rushing to his crotch, faster and faster, making it hard to think straight. He glanced at Nate and Matt again, but they were still oblivious.

Her movements were hypnotizing, and Chris felt himself growing harder with each passing moment, that it was starting to hurt. He wanted to touch himself, to relieve the ache building up in his crotch, but he was afraid Nate and Matt might notice. His gaze darted between her and his friends once again, What would they say if they found out he was watching this? Would they think he was weird? Perverted?

She slowly got up from her chair, her movements smooth. She turned her back to the camera, her long, shapely legs coming into view. With one hand, she reached down and picked up a piece of clothing from the floor. She turned around, revealing her bare behind to the screen, humming along to the sound of Agora Hills by Doja Cat playing softly in the background.

She raised her arms above her head, the piece of cloth dangling from one hand, it was a pink, lacy thong. Her movements were slow and deliberate, her tits swaying with each breath. She lowered her hands, teasingly, letting the thong slide between her legs, using her hands to pull it up.

Her back arched as she stepped into the thong, pulling it up her legs, and adjusting it until it sat perfectly on her hips. She turned around, facing the camera again, and let out a contented sigh. "what do we think?." She giggled, running her fingers through her hair.

Chris reached his limit. He couldn't take it anymore. His pants were unbearably tight, and he was afraid he might lose control. Without thinking, his hand snuck down to his crotch, his palm pressing against the bulge in his pants. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he pulled his aching erection through the fabric, finally free. He stroked himself slowly, trying to find some relief from the unbearable tension.

He bit his lip, afraid he might make a sound as he continued to stroke himself. His hips moved involuntarily, mimicking the motions he had seen on the screen before. He glanced back at Nate and Matt, still focused on the game, but he could feel his head spinning. The tension was building up inside him, making it hard to focus on anything else.

The girl on the screen continued to tease the viewers, moving her hips suggestively as she talked about the thong. Chris's hand moved faster and faster, his grip tightening on his aching erection. He felt like he was on the verge of climaxing, but he couldn't afford to lose control. Not here, not now.

"Chris?" Nate's voice snapped him out of his trance. He groaned glancing over at his friend, who was looking at him with a mix of confusion and concern. "You okay, man? You've got the weirdest look on your face."

He was screwed. There was no way he could come up with a believable excuse for why he was jerking off on call. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck as he looked at Nate and Matt, his face burning with shame. "Uh... yeah I just hit my hand while checking the cables." He lied, forcing a weak laugh. "It's fine."He managed to say, His hand still working furiously beneath the desk.

"Oh, okay." Nate nodded, looking a bit unconvinced but letting it drop. "So, uh... wanna play another round ?" Chris glanced back at the computer screen, where she was now sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg casually slung over the side. Her hair fell over her shoulder, and she batted her eyelashes at the camera as she talked about her favorite lingerie pieces. She was looking right at him as if she knew exactly what he'd been doing. Her lips curved into a knowing smile.

Chris felt his face flush even deeper. "I'm not really feeling it, I have to go to the bathroom," he lied, pulling his hand away from his crotch and trying to hide his erection. "Why don't you play another round with Matt?" He stood up abruptly, making his way over to the door.

As he walked to the bathroom. He glanced around, making sure no one was in there, before slipping inside and closing the door. he tried to steady his breath and calm his racing heart. He leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths and willing his erection to go down. The image of the girl on the screen, teasing him with her body, was burned into his brain. He wanted nothing more than to go back in there and finish what he started. But he knew he couldn't.

He let out a long, shaky breath and straightened up, trying to regain some semblance of control. He felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, wobbling between sanity and complete, overwhelming desire. The image of the girl kept creeping into his thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

His hand made its way back to his crotch, desperate for relief, but he stopped himself. He forced his hand back down to his side. This wasn't like him. He wasn't some pervert who jerked off in front of his friends. He was better than that. He took another deep breath, trying to push the image of the girl out of his mind. He glanced at himself in the mirror, seeing the flush in his cheeks and the wild look in his eyes. He took a few more deep breaths, trying to clear his head.

Watching her felt like a pill, and he was helpless to resist. The need to touch himself was overwhelming, but he forced his hand to stay glued to his side. He couldn't believe he was acting like this. He was usually so in control of himself, but she had him completely undone. He wished he could just forget about her, but she was burned into his mind, her every movement etched into his memory.

How did this even happen? Chris thought to himself as he sat down on the bathroom floor. He remembered finding the link and clicking on it out of curiosity. It had seemed innocent enough, just a girl from his class talking about her favorite lingerie. But He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen, he couldn't resist the urge to touch himself as he watched her.

what's worse, was the fact that she wasn't just some random girl on the internet. She was the weird girl from chemistry class that everyone seemed to forget about, no one ever paid attention to her before, she was just there. But now, she was the center of attention. And it was driving Chris mad. He couldn't get her out of his head. He knew he should just ignore her, forget about her just like before, but he couldn't.

He felt like a creep like there was something wrong with him. He felt like he was stalking her, and watching her every move, wanting to touch her in ways he shouldn't. It was unhealthy, he knew that. But he couldn't help it. She was like a drug, and he was addicted.

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

WHO IS SHE?

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

A Kyoto student gives the Six Eyes a run for his money during the tournament. Are they really fighting or just flirting?

M.LIST

1.2k

Summary : during the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, a student Gojo encounters someone who can match his strength. It's not humbling. It hurts his pride. But neither of you can deny the tension between you two. You and him are just flirting back and forth like crazy, forming a lustful rivalry.

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : mature/18+ content, not proofread, blood, innuendos / suggestive jokes (use of daddy, kitten), sexual/romantic tension, rivalry, making a sexual bet (bj if gojo wins 🫡), cliffhanger ending ig

Note : ayo... AYOOOOOOO!!! i found this idea in the drafts from 3 months ago and wrote smth for it... LET ME KNOW IF U WANT MORE??? bc there's more content for it... hehe 🤭💗 it's got that rivals that wanna fuck type beat ig

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works

There's crimson blood dribbling out his nose, and he wipes it away in amazement.

What the hell just hit me?

"Heyyy Six Eyes~!" you smile, split-sitting on a branch.

Gojo Satoru rears his head up at you and squints from the sun. He makes out your figure, hears your voice, and feels this sense of mortality. It gives him a rush.

Fuck. Who is she...? That Kyoto student?

"Oh. Hey Kyoto Princess." He returns condescendingly. He sinks his hands in his pockets to look at ease, though he's anything but in your presence right now. You really shook him up there.

"The blood looks hot on you." you flirt and cause his heartbeat to accelerate.

"Uh-huh... you gonna stay up there like a scaredy cat or you gonna come down here and show me those claws again, kitten?"

He's trying so hard to scramble up those words. He's trying so hard to seem intimidating. To stand his ground against you. He's trying so very, very hard. He's straining himself. Neck tendons pronouncing with his hard swallow. Sweat beading off his forehead.

Damn the summer sun. It makes the tournament so much harder. Though admittedly, he'd be startled by your technique during any season.

You lean down and make a feline movement that makes something click in the horny region of his brain.

"Nah, I like the view from up here... why don't you climb up 'n come give me kitty cuddles?" you say.

Ooh. That voice is chilling. I like it.

"No fucking way." he laughs incredulously. "You can come."

"Oh is daddy giving his kitten permission to cum?" you play.

His eyes go wide. "What the fu—"

There's a rush of wind, your friend interrupts the awkward flirting and comes to your side and asks you what the situation is.

"Why the hold up? You said you'd come 'round again, I was waiting for you. That bangs guy is kind of a menace... 'coulda used your help."

"Sorry..." you smile and maintain this electric eye contact with Gojo. "I got a bit infatuated with Mister Six Eyes over there. He's quite the cutie pie."

Gojo's heart flutters... and he hates it. He feels boyish because of you. Like he's just some dumb teenager with a crush on the hot girl who gave him a nosebleed. Literally, in this case.

"Uh... okay...? Sheesh. Were you trying to fight him or cause deforestation?" your friend grimaces at the splintered and split trees. "Um... anyways... can we go, or are you two still busy flirting?"

"I'm coming, alright." you wink at Gojo.

"What the fu— SUGURU."

Oh, such good timing. Bangs guy appears.

"What's the hold up?" Suguru asks.

Your friend chimes, "That's what I was asking! These two are fucking flirting!"

"Haha, what? Oh Satoru... why is your nose all bloody?" Suguru asks nonchalantly.

"A cat scratched me."

"...? What? What happened?"

"She happened." Gojo glares at you.

You wave at him. He wishes he could bite you, but he's not ready just yet to approach you.

Suguru looks at his friend, then at you, then at the damaged trees, and his features grow both impressed and confused.

"You're telling me... a tiny thing like her did all this?"

Gojo shrugs funnily, "Yeah, she's pretty romantic, isn't she?"

You wink at him. He feels a pang in his chest and furrows his brows.

"Okay. Yeah. Sam, I see what you mean about them flirting."

"Right?"

You giggle. Gojo groans.

There's an auditory announcement echoing through the forest.

Today's event is ending, please return to the starting point.

"Aw, playtime is over. See you next time, Six Eyes."

"Keep callin' me Six eyes, princess, I fucking dare you." Gojo seethes.

All four of you trek back to the starting point. Gojo is stealing hot glances of you, looking grumpy but feeling his pants tighten. You're sweating from the heat. So is he.

I can make you weak for me. Just you wait.

"Satoru, tell me all about it. I want the details." Suguru leans close and asks in a hushed tone. You're busy talking to your friend, outright humiliating poor Mister Six Eyes to her.

"She's too damn fast." he grumbles, rubbing his neck to get the tension out. You really gave his poor body a beating back there. "Like a flicker in my vision... uh, but the main reason she was a challenge was because of all that flirting, of course."

"Oh, yeah right..." Suguru rolls his eyes, then leans even closer, "Was she really flirting with you?"

"Yeah..."

"Lucky."

"What the hell, Suguru." Gojo laughs.

"You should make a move. I'm sure she's got a thing for you. She keeps looking over." Suguru encourages.

"Are you high? She really fucked me up back there. Anyways... I think her flirting was condescending. That's why I flirted condescendingly back. Shit what if she was actually flirtin' with me..."

Satoru and Suguru look at you. And you look back. Your friend is snickering and it bothers Satoru.

But nothing bothers him more than that smug face of yours. He marches right up to you in the corridors later, when it's just you and him.

He pins you right against the wall and you giggle, letting him show off his strength and height.

His breath tickles your face, his eyes threaten to burn your soul.

"Next time, I'll win." he seethes in a deep voice. He notes how you squeeze your thighs together.

"Wanna bet?" you smile seductively.

"Sure. If I win, you have to tell all your cute little friends about how Mister Six Eyes is stronger than you." he says.

"Okay. Whatever. If I win..."

He listens intently.

"... I get to suck your dick."

He blushes. Stutters. Brain freezes. Malfunctions.

Wow. What. Huh?

"Haha, you're cute. Have you never received head before?" you ask forwardly.

His conscious skips beats, words tumble out.

"I — uh... y-yeah of course I have!" he lies.

"Sure you have, big boy." you bring your lips closer and he dissolves. He's so fucked. He's so turned on by you it's actually pissing him off.

He doesn't move away, just lets you graze your lips over his own. You make him shudder. Make his cock start to strain against his tight uniform pants.

"So... are we taking this bet then?"

"Y-yeah... yes. Um. Yes. Absolutely. Please."

"Haha... okay then. See you tomorrow... Satoru~"

Wow. You just broke him there. He doesn't move or speak, just stands motionlessly blinking at the wall as you slip away out of his pinning grip.

He thinks to himself;

Nah. I don't think I care about winning anymore. Screw pride.

But then comes the next morning and... he swells with pride.

Nah. Screw her. I don't need to feel her lips wrapping around my dick.

"Hey, Six Eyes." you greet him at the tournament grounds, flirting so unashamedly that you earn a very disapproving looks from the teachers.

"Hey, Kyoto Princess." he greets back, "flirting" too. His stomach flips when you lick your lips suggestively, as a callback to the bet you made with him.

"Wish ya luck." you tell him.

"I don't need it." he retaliates.

Suguru and your friend just distantly watch, snickering, at the sexual tension between you and Gojo Satoru;

Your natural rival. When he was born, so were you, meant to exist as the only thing that could weaken the Six Eyes.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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luveline · 7 months

Note

hi baby if you feel up for it i'd love to request some fluffy fluff with sirius. maybe he's usually so reserved and stoic (because, cmon) and they're out with his friends and they're all making fun of him for being so lovey and doting on r

love u sm!

love you!! ♡ fem, 1k

"This is really lovely," Sirius says, your face turned to the light in his hand. "It's bright without looking out of place. Blue is your colour."

"Thanks, bug," you murmur back, holding still as he cleans the smudged mascara from your lower lash line.

"Every colour is your colour," he amends. "It goes nice with your top."

You rub your lips together slowly, sticky with gloss. His noticing makes all your make up efforts worth it.

Sirius wipes his thumb into the tissue you'd given him and tucks it away, stroking your cheek one last time with his other hand before stealing yours to twine your fingers. Your friends have carried on into the pub, but it doesn't take long to catch them. Remus was kind enough to wait at the entrance, eyebrows raised.

"What?" Sirius asks.

"Nothing." It's clearly something. "At all."

You figure it's between them and skirt past Remus with a smile, eager to hide away in the warm wooded walls of The Firestroke. The boys filter in behind you, following you through the entryway and past the bar to the table James has commandeered with Emmeline.

He's fiddling with her hair, readjusting a bobby pin, another held between his lips. "It looks nice, Emme, you should have it out of your face more often."

"Marl says that all the time. Hey!" She beams at you. "Come and sit by me."

You laugh happily and slide onto the seat next to her. You, Emme, and James sit on the booth side while Sirius and Remus set themselves down opposite. A waitress arrives and Sirius doesn't wait for the others, ordering a round of drinks for the entire group, wherever they may be. They'll filter in soon enough.

"And extra cherries for my girl, please," Sirius says, nodding to you as he does. "Thanks."

"Ooh, for his girl," James croons.

"Remember when he'd order stuff for me like that?" Remus asks.

Sirius rolls his eyes, offering his hands to you from across the table. Honestly, you're slightly surprised at his behaviour today, but you won't look a gift horse in the mouth. You lay your hands in his obligingly and relax as he begins to draw shapes into the fronts of your fingers, tiny stroking lines that feel ridiculously good, even under the eyes of your friends. "He's lying. I'd purposefully get his food wrong when we were teenagers so he'd have to go up to the counter and correct it."

"Like exposure therapy I never signed up for," Remus sighs. "It worked, too."

Sirius laughs. He's handsome to begin with, the last burst of a tan from summer's end on his skin, his hair dark and lush in the shimmering light, and when he laughs it's a tenfold effect, the grey of his eyes suddenly mesmerising, the wicked curve of his smile softened into a sweeter thing that begs to be kissed, or admired at the very least. You let him keep one hand but turn the other inward to give him similar treatment, rubbing your fingertips up and down his palm in a ticklish wave.

"Do that to me, mate, there's a good lad," James says, offering his hand. Emmeline bats it away.

"Awfully jealous today, aren't they?" Sirius asks you, ignoring their teasing to curl your fingers in and cover them.

"I…" You're not sure what to say. Does he not realise how sweet he's being? Publicly? He's not usually this open.

"You okay?"

"Fine, just…" Words fail you twice. You cringe at your lack of explanation, but Sirius doesn't falter in his nice touches. It shouldn't shock you when he slides his chair tight against the table and pulls your hands ever closer, his top lip scratchy with hair as he leans down to kiss your knuckles. "Siri."

"Yes, darling?"

"Jesus," Marl says, announcing her presence with a faked gag. "What's your problem, Black?"

"I'm deeply in love, McKinnon. Not that you'd know what that feels like."

You melt in your chair as he kisses a short path to your wrist. You could write Marlene a ten thousand word essay on love if she needed it, that's how adored he's got you feeling.

"Absolutely vile."

"So sweet!" Mary denies, plopping herself down in the chair beside Sirius', all pink tulle and flowery smells. Any other day you'd be jealous of her in a good-natured but undeniably insecure manner, terrified that Sirius was gonna turn to her and see her in all her dewy beauty, but he doesn't so much as look up, your hands now rubbed against his cheek.

"He's had a bit of catnip or something," Remus says.

"It's the eyeshadow," you try to explain.

Sirius lifts his head severely. "It looks perfect, but it's definitely not the eyeshadow. I'd feel just as mad about you if you were covered in soot."

"Good to know," you say breathlessly.

"Oh, so you're feeling pathetic today?" Marl asks.

Sirius sighs as though he's been greatly inconvenienced and sits up properly, casting his gaze around the group for a lick of sense between them, if his slack eyebrows are anything to go off of. "You're all wrong. I'm this pathetic for her every day of the week."

"Then what's with the PDA?" James asks incredulously.

"Mate, first of all, look at her. And if you must know, it's our anniversary."

You flinch, your gaze jumping to his. The group erupts with well wishes and 'why didn't you say so's, and James slaps his card on the table, insisting that the round is on him to celebrate. Your heart races as you make the calculations in your head, calming as you realise that nothing falls on today's date, not a half month nor a first date.

"Sirius?" you ask while everyone's distracted.

He takes your hand again and begins kissing your knuckles once more. "I'm lying," he says, as you'd figured, scratching your fingers with his stubble. "That's what he gets for prying… You really do look lovely tonight."

You nearly swallow your tongue. "Thank you. You look lovely, too."

He smiles, twining your fingers together to rest his face against the back of your hand. "Thanks, angel."

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

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luckybyler · 1 month

Text

Will Byers is canonically super attractive, and that’s a risk for him.

I posted somewhere else that Will’s new look would drive all the girls crazy and it could be risky for Will, and someone replied saying that 1. Hawkins already mocked Will for being gay, 2. Will still looked nerdy in the picture, and 3. they didn’t think the Duffers would portray Will as being more attractive that the other boys from the Party.

The thing is, they have already played him up as more attractive than the other kids, and the fact that he still looks nerdy only highlights that more. He’s:

poor

suspected of being gay

a nerd

unpopular

shy

tiny (at least in seasons 1 to 3)

With a terrible haircut and fashion

with a shitty home life

Zombie Boy

and he still attracted three separate girls, two of which even made the first move (in the 80s!). The logical conclusion is that he must be one doll of a boy in-universe. I understand that it was necessary to bring home the point that he doesn’t like girls like that, but the side effect of that is that he comes off as more attractive.

Dustin had a whole plot point about no girls wanting to dance with him and got his long-distance girlfriend at Science camp. Lucas got Max to be his girlfriend by putting effort in it. Mike was straight-up the first boy El’s age she saw in her life (as she remembered it) and saved her life, fed her, etc. It’s not like she saw him and thought “he’s cute”. And I’m pretty sure that even in-universe they’re not unattractive, just not attractive enough to overcome their unpopularity and nerditude.

Plus it’s canon that Joyce was pretty in high school and she got together with Lonnie the Loser because he was a handsome “bad boy”. It’s not a stretch to assume that their children inherited their good looks. After all, Jonathan, who has the same handicaps as Will, replacing “gay” with “creepy loner with no friends” and adding “with no time because he works and takes care of his brother” managed to snatch Nancy Wheeler from rich, popular jock Steve Harrington, and nobody thought it was weird or that she was out of his league.

As for why this poses as risk for Will, there’s a difference between calling a delicate child gay slurs and being like “no for real, what’s the deal with this dude?” when they see that this now teenager has plenty of opportunity to be with girls and doesn’t take it, in a conservative town in the 80s.

#byler #will byers #jonathan byers #joyce byers #lonnie byers #yes the guy’s a son of a bitch but he’s canonically good looking

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ma1dita · 8 months

Text

it will pass

part two can be found here -> without a doubt

words: little under 2k

summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)

a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me

(posted 9/8/23)

—

There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.

You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.

“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”

Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?

Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.

“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”

Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.

“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”

He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.

“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.

James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.

You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.

He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.

“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.

“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.

“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”

“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.

“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?

“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.

“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”

Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.

“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”

“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.

Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.

“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.

“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.

And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.

After all, he’s not yours, not really.

There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.

—

Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.

“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”

“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.

“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.

“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”

You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.

“Combust, probably.”

Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.

—

You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.

James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.

“Never used to have to tell you.”

“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.

“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”

Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.

You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.

“I love you.”

It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.

James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.

“It’ll pass.”

No, it won’t. Not this.

You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.

Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”

The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.

James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.

You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.

—

The End

“I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what

we are— and I know what we’re not.”

Lang Leav

#james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader angst #marauders x reader #james potter x you #best friend!james potter #made by ma1dita ♥︎#james potter x fem!reader #mischiefmoons iwp

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itsbecomeblue · 29 days

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airport crush ellie williams drabble

cw: none?? js cuteness and v poor writting

u are both coming back for school after spring break?? she had missed her childhood friends and dad... for u, u js wanted to take ur summer clothes to uni.

this cute girl stares at u in line for the boarding... are u actually gonna be sitting in the same plane as her? she might faint!!! mmm she's staring and u can feel her green eyes burning the back of your neck so u turn around and she TRIES to be subtle and look somewhere else. u fucking grin, she's lowkey scared of u... u are sooo pretty!!! someone help her!!!

u are both getting on the plane and she doesn't know if she wants u to sit next her or if that's the last thing she wants... but naturally, since u are soooo lucky u got sat in the front line next to an arrogant lil man and his teenage son. how lovely!!! ellie on the other hand, got sat next to A MOTHER W A BABY??? god it was boutta be a flight.

when u looked around, she looked at u as if ud known each other for ages and mouthed "save me" so u mouthed "save ME" god u hadn't even said hi to each other, she was embarrassed but... u went along w it so.

u were thinking, and sure the mother was comfortable back there but u remembered when ur aunt had ur cousin she asked to sit at the front lines. when ellie saw u getting up her eyes shined, like actually, she looked like an anime character right there. u fought ur awkwardness and started talking to the mother sat next to ellie.

"excuse me, would u wanna sit in first line? there's much more space for u and ur baby's stuff. u'd probably be way more comfortable." oh, u were such a sweetheart, ellie is inlove w u already.

the lady actually took the offer. she thanked u and gave u a lil shoulder caress. u both exchanged seats and well everyone's happy i guess!

not everyone, ellie's scared.

she's sat next to this sweet caring selfless girl, who happens to be soooo sooo soooooo pretty. she's terrified and she thinks she might be feeling more than js butterflies in her stomach.

"hi..." she mutters. "saved us both right there."

"sure did." u smiled, putting ur seat belt on, she forgot those... she started putting it on immediately. u chuckled and told her ur name.

"that's pretty, i'm williams, i mean, i'm ellie williams. mmm erm, just ellie." she, is, adorable.

"that's real long and pretty." she dropped her head in embarrassment. "where are u going, ellie?"

she coughed and started talking about going back to college and u kinda yelled "same!", bro why was this convo the most embarrassing ever?(,#&@&@ turns outtttttt u went to the same college!!! wowza...

"no way." she deadpaned.

"yes way, ellie..." u giggled and so did she.

u 2 talked ab ur majors and shit, nothing crazy but ellie was js so cutesy likeeee omg she's so awkward she's kind of a nerd :((( she tried acting cool tho but u were js so pretty and nice she got shy.

she couldn't believe u actually fell asleep while u 2 watched the exact same movie on ur tiny screens... 30m in. she had js met u and she got the honor of seeing u peacefully sleeping. u were outrageously embarrassed when u woke up at the end of the flight tho.

ellie asked for ur number before u even left the plane, thinking you'd would say goodbye then. but... u still had to go all the way out of the airport and grab a taxi. it was awkwardly silent, saying bye and walking side by side for like 6 minutes before she got closer and said "i guess not goodbye." what kind of sentence is that???

u talked ab music and u found out ellie played guitar, u were so happy ab it?? she didn't get why but she felt cool and mentioned she had her own songs and u beggedddddd to listen to them. bro she js thought u were so attractive SOMEONE SHOOT HERRRRR RN. u thought the exact same... like... u play guitar AND write ur own songs??

talked and talked until u both found a taxi, because when she found one, she decided to leave it for u but u wanted her to have it, so u both idiots let someone else have it and waited till 2 taxis were available??^÷×&*!*@

after getting home u waited for a text from her, dying to hear from her. you got it!!!

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #lover girl!ellie #ellie imagine #ellie x masc reader

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lundenloves · 10 months

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Dad!Simon reacting to his oldest daughter having a small crush on a boy at school! Overprotective dad!simon having to be scary (ofc not towards his lil family) but in private with Wife!Reader he’s emotional because his little girl is growing up 😭😭 fluff mix with tiny angst

Thx! Love ya Dad Simon series 🖤

dad!simon masterlist | taglist

ANON! This mf would get migraines over the idea of his sweet little baby girl and a boy. I’ve had quite a few asks about this, all along the same lines (crush, boyfriend etc) so just decided to make one of all of them. Unless someone wants something dead specific, shout me!

Everyone grab your binoculars as we observe from a safe distance.

He almost choked on his drink, dropping the glass to the counter with a cringe inducing clink. One that echoed around the now silent kitchen as his eyes caught onto his wife’s. “A what?”

His eldest daughter threw her arms in the air in battle of her mother. “Why would you even say anything to him, oh my god.” She groaned frustratedly, attempting to storm away but cut short when Simon had cleared his throat.

“Why didn’t you tell me.” He leant his palm on the kitchen counter, looking down at the girl who was slowly growing to look like her mother instead of him. “What’s his name?”

“Because you’re like this.” She gestured to him, whining a sigh and turning to her mother. “Tell him, mum. He always gets involved.”

Simon laughed, balling his hand into a fist and habitually hitting down on the counter with his movement. “I’m only asking, love.” His arms then crossed over his chest, feet a length apart from another. “What age is he?”

“See!” She shot a hand toward him, widening her eyes at you. “He can’t help it.”

“Well, I need to know what—“

“Simon.” You held a hand out to silence him, a slight tilt of your head telling him to let go. “Invite him for dinner, darling.” The warmth in your voice made Simon itch from the other side of the counter, a half-hearted glare piercing into you over what you had just asked.

“No.”

“Why?” You knew exactly why.

“Because dad will just fu- interrogate him.” She left the room, walking down the hall as she continued, “Which he doesn’t even get to do. He’s never here anyway!” Her words were spat out and Simon tsked, turning back to you when she had stomped up the stairs.

“He’s her age.” You said quietly.

“You knew?” He whisper-shouted as you took a step toward him.

“Of course I knew.” He humphed when you had wrapped your arms around him, humming into his chest. “That’s what mothers are for.” A long sigh left him at that, pulling back from you and rubbing a hand through his hair and down his face visibly stressed.

“I need a cigarette.”

“It was always going to happen, Simon.” You smiled, following him outside and nudging his shoulder playfully. “Leave her be. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He eyed you through a sideward glance.

“She’s not going to get pregnant.”

“If she’s with a little rat—“

“Stop.”

He lit his cigarette, taking a long inhale before shrugging. “That kid is not stepping one foot into this house.” The smoke escaped his mouth with each word, creating a momentary cloud around him. “Not when i’m here.”

“She’s growing up.”

“Too fast.” Simon shook his head with another long drag, the two of them stood in silence.

Being a father to a teenage girl was a new era of problems. Ones he was yet to even learn about never-mind tackle, and this was apparently one of them. The boyfriend dilemma. He was not immune to the dad feelings, resulting in many a phone call to Johnny who somehow knew everything. The man didn’t even have a family.

“Just invite the kid, see what happens. He’s hardly going to pull out an M9.”

“I’m not having him ‘round.”

“She can go to his then.”

“No she fucking can’t.”

In result, he was invited over. On one condition with his daughter, so was uncle Johnny.

Him and Simon were stood in the kitchen when the scrawny kid walked in. You had convinced your husband that holding his knife wasn’t a great idea, twirling it around his fingers before forcefully sticking it into the chopping board.

“Alright, son.” Johnny slapped a hand onto the kids back, ultimately welcoming him but also shoving him toward Simon.

“Sorry. That’s my uncle.” His daughter would point with her eyes, steering him away from her dad and to the seat furthest away. Many a death-stare had been shot across the table toward her father, all returned of course if it wasn’t for you stomping on Simon’s foot underneath it.

It was a mess, to say the least. Bar Johnny’s flamboyant stories that kept at least a drop of fun.

this was supposed to be a lot shorter but LMAOO you can’t convince me ghost wouldn’t recruit soap in this whole thing. THIS is canon. so many thoughts, such little brain.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugaduu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog

if you weren’t tagged i couldn’t get your blog!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 9 months

Text

Protector

Requested by @captaincvans

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector

It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”

To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.

“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”

“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.

Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.

…

Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.

So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.

A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.

So you stayed behind.

But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.

…

“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“

“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”

“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”

“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”

“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.

“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”

Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.

“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.

“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”

“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”

The screaming stopped again.

“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”

“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“

“I think we’re done here.”

The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.

…

“We got a location.”

Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.

“Finally, let’s go.”

“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”

“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.

“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.

“The plan is get her back.”

…

You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.

However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.

Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.

“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“

Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.

“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.

“Dean?”

Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.

“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”

“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.

There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.

“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.

Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.

“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.

“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”

Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

…

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.

“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.

“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.

“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.

“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”

Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.

“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”

You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.

“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”

Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.

“You…but you were gone for three days.”

“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.

“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.

“Dean, it’s not your fault.”

He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.

“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.

“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”

“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“

“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”

“Then say it.”

Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

…

“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.

“I’m ok,” you insisted.

“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.

Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.

He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.

You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.

The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.

“I’m ok.”

…

You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.

So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.

You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.

“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.

“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.

After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.

He was your protector, always.

But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.

#dean winchester x you #the winchester brothers #dean winchester x reader #spn sam winchester #dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x you #dean x reader #sam and dean #sam x sister!reader #supernatural sam #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural dean #supernatural

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 years

Text

articles about the “wild new trend” of piercing from the late ‘50s and early ‘60s are fascinating to read. a selection of excerpts:

- one doctor cautioned that girls with pierced ears would be “required to constantly wear earrings to hide the holes in their heads” (or you could just not be weird about a tiny dot on someone else’s earlobe?)

- Genevieve Dariaux, then director of the Nina Ricci couture house, said in 1965 that “Pierced ears are unthinkable for an elegant woman, and even more dreadful for a young girl.” bear in mind that, as I’ve said, earrings that made your ears LOOK pierced were still common. what the difference was, nobody has yet made plain

- lots of evidence that going to a doctor was the preferred “safe” method for piercing at the time. but many doctors refused to do it, or said they would but that they strongly discouraged patients from having the procedure done. this checks out with my mother’s experience in 1965- her schoolmate’s anesthesiologist father did free piercing for all his daughter’s friends

- some teenagers around 1965 called clip and screwback earrings “chicken earrings” (implying that the wearers were too scared of pain to get their ears pierced, I think)

- one advice column, also from 1965, implied that pierced ears were just a passing fad. the previous several centuries of western history would like a word, Mx. Columnist...

- A GIRL WITH RESTRICTIVE PARENTS BRINGING UP THE ARGUMENT THAT HER GRANDMOTHER HAD PIERCED EARS. YES. FINALLY SOMEONE REALIZED THE LOGICAL FALLACIES HERE. the argument against that is, indeed, a sort of “that was the Bad Old Days and we know better now” deal as some other commenters have hypothesized

- one article mentions that the trend could be part of the Victorian revival that was just becoming popular in the mid-60s, which is a fascinating thought I’ve never considered before

- many doctors complaining that they were suddenly being called upon to pierce ears despite not really knowing how. this is interesting, because before the Great Ear-Piercing Taboo, jewelers offering piercing services were more like modern piercers than Claire’s employees (and doctors weren’t involved at all unless an infection set in). descriptions I’ve read of Victorian piercer-jewelers mention a lot of things we’re familiar with today- needles designed with a hollow for inserting the starter jewelry, for example, and even “freezing” solutions to numb the earlobe. so in those early resurgence days, going to a long-established jewelry store for your piercing might actually have been a better option than a doctor’s office

- two young women in a 1964 Canadian article (from Calgary) mention that they think screwback earrings look cheap and gaudy, and the pierced version is more conservative and tasteful, in an interesting reversal of mainstream thought

- a newspaper columnist saying pierced ears give him “the wim-wams,” so they are to be avoided. whatever the hell that means

- a LOT of people seem to think that ear piercing was popular in the Victorian era because wealthy women didn’t want to lose their expensive jewelry. sorry folks- my collection of Victorian costume earrings (all pierced) says otherwise

- much confusion as to why modern girls want to do something so old-fashioned

- one woman marvels at how comfortable it is to wear earrings in pierced ears, as opposed to clips and screwbacks. I feel infinitely blessed, as an earring-lover, to have been born when I could escape the scourge of ear-vises altogether

- apparently an eccentric elderly man on Salt Spring Island, British Columbia, literally bribed all the women of the community to pierce their ears because he liked the way it looked. one of them mentioned that she held out for $25- $244 CAD or $188 USD in today’s money. all because some rich Victwardian codger had a very specific fetish

- this absolutely incredible response of an Indian diplomat’s wife when asked, in New York, why she wore a diamond nose stud: “Because I feel [diamonds] become me more than rubies or emeralds.” QUEEN

- “when the fad changes, as it indubitably will-” are you certain of that, ma’am

#long post #ear piercing #fashion history #retro #vintage #dress history

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dira333 · 2 months

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Of Lovers and Friends - Ushijima x Reader

thank you @screamin-abt-haikyuu talking to you is inspiring

If you find a typo, I wrote this instead of going to bed. Goodnight.

“Just a Tonic Water, please,” You order, well aware of all the eyes on you.

“Are you sick?” Kindaichi asks, already pressing a hand against your forehead.

“Pregnant?” Kunimi’s next, though less serious.

“As if, you can’t get pregnant from RPG,” Makki points out, licking foam off his lip.

“You would know,” you tell him, a little peeved, as you push Kindaichi away.

“I’m fine. I just have a date later.”

Yahabi whistles, clearly impressed. God, you need to amp up your game. This is just sad.

“Who is it?” Kyoutani asks, forever your best friend. Or at least the one guy who’s seemingly the least interested in teasing you.

“I don’t know, my Mom set us up. She went to school with his Mom or something like that. I just know that he plays Volleyball and is about my age.”

“Could be anyone,” Watari mumbles into his Aperol Spritz.

“Could be Ushijima,” Mattsun jokes, causing Makki to choke on his beer, spluttering as he bellows out a laugh.

“Can you imagine? That would be hilarious!”

“Har har har,” you thank the waitress for your drink and lean back in your chair, “Can we change the topic? Does Makki have a job yet?”

“Uncalled for!” Makki points an accusing finger at you. “And no. But a little birdy told me that Kyoutani’s got a fangirl.”

Kyoutani blushes, glaring into his drink. The girl must mean something to him if he’s trying to pull himself together like this. You swerve to look at Kindaichi who’s managed to spill his diet coke - again.

“What about you? Did you call that girl we met at the coffee shop?”

“No,” he ducks his head. “I didn’t. I was… I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself.”

“Yeah, well, you did,” Makki lets his eyes wander as usual, “Tell you what. There’s a nice girl with her friends two tables over. We’ll get you her number but you have to call. Or at least send her some funny memes, okay?”

“Okay,” Kindaichi’s looking at you. Makki’s looking at you.

You groan and get up. “Next time you get someone else to get that number, okay? This is the last time.”

“Love you too, pumpkin!” Makki calls after you as you make your way over. These patterns have turned familiar.

You should have gotten a beer, you think two hours later as you wait, your legs twitching with anxiety.

You’ve been painfully single for so long that you can’t help but feel you should have worn a dress or at least something more fancy than the jeans and top combo you’re sporting. But it’s comfy and it sets you at ease. And you’ve always been an advocate for being yourself on the first date. If they don’t like you like that, they won’t matter anyway.

So far that has brought you a lot of first dates and not a lot of second dates.

A deep voice calls out your name. You turn, your hands clutching the single purple carnation you had to bring - your mother’s idea.

You spot the flower first, a tiny purple thing held in massive hands. He’s tall, impressively so. You let your eyes wander up as he walks over, the flickering street light casting long shadows over his face until he’s reached you and the soft warm glow of the restaurant behind you.

Your heart skips a painful beat as he attempts a rather forced smile.

“Ushijima-kun,” you stutter, the confidence earned in twenty-something years shattered and replaced by the anxious brain of a teenager.

He offers you his hand, the one without the flower and you take it. His palm swallows yours, his grip warm and firm. If you can blend out the history your team has with his, that your friends have with him, you can give him a chance, right?

“Are you close with your mother?” He asks in the tense moment when the food’s already been ordered and the drinks aren’t served yet. It’s the worst possible question to ask, too, because no, you’re not close. Not since she went through with the divorce, unable to settle with a man ever since, as dissatisfied with them as she is with life, her business, you.

You don’t ramble often, but you do when you’re nervous.

If he’s taken aback by the flood of words, of trauma seemingly long overcome, he does not show. He’s like a rock, sitting steadfast in the crashing river of your emotions, unmoving, sturdy.

When you’re finished, throat a little dry, he nods slowly.

“My parents are divorced as well,” he says. You wonder if he’s told it often.

“How was it for you?” You ask and the surprise in his eyes tells you that he hasn’t been asked this before.

His tale is told more slowly. He hands out information bit by bit, always confirming that you’re still listening, still interested in what he has to say about this topic. You share a bottle of wine over his parent's divorce, the main dish just an accessory to the topic at hand.

When his words run dry and the last drop of wine is poured into your glass, your mind a little fuzzy and his lips tinted a little blue, you are full and empty at the same time. All the anxiety has left you over dinner.

Seijoh and your friends are far, far away but Ushijima - Wakatoshi, as he asks you to call him - is right there.

“Do you want to share dessert?” You ask and his eyes light up with a new emotion, one you haven’t seen before on him. It’s a little softer, makes him look a little younger, maybe.

“Do you like chocolate?” He asks, leaning forward a bit as if to share a secret.

“Who doesn’t?” You ask back and learn about his best friend.

“This was nice,” you say when he walks you to the train station, slowing his steps to be in tune with yours. The cold night air does wonders for your fuzzy brain but the chill is less pleasant. You shiver.

“Here.” A warm weight settles over your shoulders. His jacket drapes over your skin like it was made for this. It smells good, too.

It’s not the first time you wonder if there will be a second date. But it’s the first time you really, really hope there is.

The train station appears much too soon. You want to prolong this evening, stay longer in this emotion that you cannot name. But you’re a realist at heart and you slip his jacket off before you become too used to its warmth.

“Keep it,” his large hand stops your movement, easily takes hold of yours. “You can give it back the next time.”

“Next time?” You ask, unable to keep that hopeful tone out of your voice.

“I don’t have much free time,” Wakatoshi explains, “Could we meet again in a week? Same time, same place?”

You nod, much too eager to come off as nonchalant. It reminds you of Kindaichi, but you cannot bring yourself to care. You give him your number and feel your lips slip into a smile when he immediately texts you so that you have his as well.

Overhead your trains arrival is announced. You turn, still unwilling to part.

“Until Friday,” Wakatoshi says, one last wave. “Good night.”

- - -

You sleep well, better than you have in days.

It’s only when you wake up that you realize what this means.

You have a second date. The first in a long time.

But as excited as you are for it, dread still settles in your stomach. How on earth will you explain this to your friends?

The answer is, you don’t.

When you meet up for beers and games on wednesday, Makki consolingly pats your shoulder. He seems to think your date went awful and you do nothing to correct him. You only feel a little guilty. It’s his fault for not even asking.

The others seem to already have forgotten. The news of Kindaichi getting a first date is more exciting and you let yourself get dragged into it, give him fashion advice - that goes ignored - and laugh with the others when Yahaba tries to fix his hair.

It’s only Friday afternoon that your nerves make themselves known.

Surely there’s nothing wrong in dressing similar again. Wakatoshi didn’t seem to mind and neither should you.

But you want to, you desperately want to… look a little better. You want him to look at you, unable to catch his breath, unable to form words, at least for a few seconds. Is that too much to ask for?

But you don’t own any Make-up, courtesy of rebelling against everything that makes you think of your mother. So you do the next best thing and call Mattsun.

“I’m not late,” he answers, immediately defensive. Right, you’re still on for drinks before the date. You can’t think about that now.

“I don’t care. Get your girlfriend on the phone, I need help.”

“What? Why?”

“Girls-stuff, you wouldn’t understand.”

Miri agrees to join you for drinks. According to her she won’t need more than ten minutes in the bar bathroom to give you a little bit of an extra kick.

“You don’t want to look too different to what he’s seen the last time,” she reasons as you go over the few options of fancier clothes you have.

You're anxious the whole time, nurse one soda after the other. Even Kunimi notices.

“Second date?” Kyoutani asks. Makki’s eyes widen in surprise. You hate it.

“Maybe,” you grumble, getting up to pee once more.

“What? You didn’t tell us the first one went well.”

“You didn’t ask,” you tell him as you make your escape to the bathroom. But this is Makki. He doesn’t let go of a topic.

“What’s his name?” He asks as soon as you’re back. “What team does he play for?”

“Let me get through this date first,” you huff, trying to sound more relaxed than you are.

“He’s nice?” Kyoutani asks, able to put a threat and a question and a whole lot of worry in those few words.

“Yeah,” you say, a little flustered just by the thought of him. The boys go silent around you.

“Wow, you really like that guy,” Mattsun points out.

“Shut up,” you grumble and empty your glass, calling for another. You don’t want to talk about it.

“Anyway,” Miri points out and you’ll forever be thankful for that, for her switching topics when you need it most, “Mattsun and I have decided to move together. We’re still debating about which apartment to move into, though.”

“Are you for real?” Makki’s always the first to put in his two cents, “Miri’s apartment is way better.”

Miri laughs. “Thank you Makki, I knew I could count on you.”

“There, done.” Miri steps away. You look at yourself in the mirror, the knots in your stomach slowly loosening. You don’t look like a clown, not like your mother either.

“What did you do?” You ask, a little perplexed by how long your lashes suddenly are.

“Mascara and some eyeliner. A little lipgloss too, you can reapply it when you’re at the restaurant.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. If you want, we can go shopping for some of this stuff. You don’t need much and I can show you how to do the little things you might want to do sometimes.”

“Ah,” you look away, embarrassed, “Let me get through this date first.”

Miri smiles, understanding visible in her eyes.

“Go get him, tiger,” she tells you when you part ways.

- - -

Wakatoshi is already waiting for you.

Warmth pools in your stomach when he stills at your sight, his eyes warm as they wander over your face.

“You look beautiful,” he tells you and you have to look away, too flustered to face him for a second.

“Am I not beautiful all the time?” You joke, hoping against hope that he does not notice the way your voice breaks slightly.

“Of course,” Wakatoshi tells you immediately, not an ounce of insincerity in his voice. You have to swallow twice before you’re able to talk again.

“You’re very pretty too,” your voice is doing funny things. You offer your hand to shake, a little unsure of what greeting is correct. He takes your hand in his, not to shake it, but to hold it all the way to the table and you’re unable to look anyone in the eyes until you’re seated, your insides a fluttery mess.

“Can I see you again?” Wakatoshi asks when you reach the train station, his jacket a comforting weight on your shoulders, your hand resting in his.

You nod, unable to hide your eagerness.

You can’t blame the buzzing of your mind on alcohol this time. He’s calmly explained that he can’t drink often with his strict diet, has to choose between dessert or a glass of wine most of the time. It didn’t feel right to drink when he wasn’t allowed to.

Somehow your conversations feel deeper, more meaningful without the alcohol coating them. You know he means it when he asks and he knows you mean it when you nod.

Overhead, your train is announced. You don’t let go of his hand.

“I could do a little walk,” you say, “What do you say?”

You kiss his cheek when you eventually part. His skin is soft and warm underneath your lips. It follows you into your dreams.

On Wednesday you get a text just as you head out to meet the boys for beers and games.

“I’ve got out of practice earlier. Do you want to go for a walk?”

You go back inside, put on the lipgloss Miri had lent you as you text him your confirmation. You think about kissing him and wipe it off again, unsure of what you want. In the end you put it into your pocket just in case.

“Can’t come today, I have another date,” you text the group chat.

Makki’s the first to answer, per usual, but his use of emojis has your anxiety rising so you put your phone on silent. You’ll deal with this on Friday.

It’s not yet time for the Sakura blossoms, but the park is beautiful anyway.

Not that you can focus on much besides the feeling of your hand in his, the way his voice rumbles in his chest as he talks about practice and his plans to meet up with his old teammates.

You like this, the calmness of it all. You like him, with his serious expression and his direct way of asking. You like how he never fails to ask how your day has been, how he’s interested in all aspects of your work, even the little ones that no one seems to care about.

You like him, a lot. And if the way he looks at you is any indication, he likes you too.

It’s when you’re on your way back, the setting sun bringing forth a chill, that someone calls your name.

You turn, your hand still firmly in Wakatoshi’s grasp, only to spot Kyoutani. He’s frozen on a near path and you know with certainty that he’s recognized your date. Your heart beats painfully in your throat and you feel sick.

“Everything okay?” Wakatoshi asks at the same time the girl next to Kyoutani pulls her massive scarf down to look at you. She looks familiar, blond hair, brown eyes, petite figure. It’s only when she opens her mouth to ask Kyoutani what’s going on that you recongize her. She’d been Karasuno’s volleyball manager. Yachi something.

Kyoutani seems to realize that you’ve recognized her because his face turns dark. He shakes his head at Yachi, points into the distance and leads her away.

You’re still frozen next to Wakatoshi, realization washing over you like the cold floods of the Tamagawa.

“Is everything okay?” He asks again, cradling your face in his hands to make you look at him. You blink to clear your mind, wish you could just lean into his touch and disappear forever.

“You know what school I went to, right?”

“Aoba Johsai, yes. You were a manager for their volleyball team.”

“Yes,” He must have realized the truth already, still he asks you to say it out loud. “I’m still friends with the team, like you are with yours. They are not… They’re not fans of you.”

“I understand.” Wakatoshi nods. His hands slip away from your face, you miss them immediately.

You didn’t plan for it to go like this. He’s got an uncanny ability to make you open yourself up. Being vulnerable feels less scary when it’s him.

He takes your hand again, guides you around the park for another round as you tell him all there is to know about your poor attempts at dating. How it sucks to be “just one of the boys” sometimes. How it hurts that they don’t even ask anymore if you’ve got a second date. How scary it is to admit to them that you’re dating him.

You bite your tongue after those last words. You’ve been on two dates so far, this is your third. Is it too forward to call this “dating”? What if he’s not-

“I understand if you want to keep this a secret for longer,” he says. His voice is heavy in a way that tells you that there’s more to it.

Two things can be true at the same time. Understanding it won’t mean that he’ll appreciate it.

“I will… I will try and talk to them,” you promise. And you will. Even if you could keep this a secret, you won’t if it hurts him. And you can tell that it hurts.

You wish you could kiss him goodbye. But you can tell that he’s distanced himself, put up a wall to protect his heart.

“On Wednesday we usually meet up to drink beer and play games,” you explain, wringing your hands, “They should all be there right now. Well, except Kyoutani. I will... I will go and talk to them right now.”

He nods. Your voice breaks a little when you ask. “Are we still- Are we still on for Friday?”

“Of course,” his deep voice soothes your anxious heart a little. You take a step forward and hug him, stiff and awkward, before you move back.

“I really like you, Wakatoshi,” you say before you can take it back, swallow it down, hide it from the world.

“I like you too.”

- - -

Makki is already buzzed when he opens the door.

It’s probably not the best time to talk about things like this, but you want to get this over with. If you talk about it now, the dust will settle by Friday. Or so you hope.

There’s an iPad on the coffee table, Iwaizumi and Oikawa grinning back at you. You accept a beer, almost drop it with how jumpy you are, your legs unable to stay still.

“So, how was your date?” Makki asks, cutting off one of Oikawa’s rants.

“Good,” you say and take another sip of beer, “We met Kyoutani at the park.”

“Oh?” Mattsun looks up from his phone. “So you met the girl he fancies?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, unwilling to give up his secret. He’s got his one fears to face.

“What you mean, dear Mattsun,” Makki teases, “Is that Kyoutani met her boyfriend.”

Oikawa gasps dramatically. “No way?! You got a boyfriend? Who is it!”

“Ushijima,” you say, ripping the bandaid off in one swoop.

Makki cackles, spurned on by Oikawa’s apparent confusion.

“Good one,” Mattsun jokes as Iwaizumi snorts. The younger players don’t think the joke’s that funny. It’s Kunimi who bothers you the most, his perceptive eyes locked onto your face.

“Guys,” he cuts through the laughter, “She’s serious.”

And it would have turned out better, you suppose, without the beer. Because Oikawa gets more petulant when drunk and Makki’s jokes are a bit less funny and a lot more mean when he’s buzzed. The younger guys don’t really know how to mediate. That has always been your job, or Iwaizumi’s. But the distance does not work in your favor.

You leave half an hour after you’ve arrived, angry tears streaming down your face.

It’s always the people closest to you that hurt you the most. They know what parts of you are the most sensible, and which parts of you are still bruised, still in the process of healing.

You press your phone to your ear.

Wakatoshi picks up right away.

“I talked to them,” you press out. Your voice is doing funny things again and you swallow back another wave of tears, less motivated by anger and more by hurt.

“Do you want to come over?” He asks and you don’t hesitate to agree.

It hurts to fight, to possibly lose good friends over something as stupid as old rivalries, but Wakatoshi is good at soothing over it, with warm hands and the gentle rumble of his voice as he holds you close.

You don’t meet up with the boys on Friday. No one has bothered to invite you.

You watch Wakatoshi practice instead, laughing about Kageyama who pesters you about how to better his form - you’re a licensed sports therapist after all - and teasing Hoshiumi who fake gags every time you throw Wakatoshi a kiss.

You move your date to Wakatoshi’s apartment, cook dinner together - it turns out pretty decent - and talk through the night. When you wake up in his arms on Saturday morning you know that you want this to go on, that you want this to be a relationship that lives instead of dies, one that strengthens over time.

- - -

You’re a little surprised to find Mattsun and Makki at your work.

It’s Wednesday and they should be working too, well, at least Mattsun should.

“Iwaizumi called us every day,” Mattsun admits eventually, “Apparently we’ve been dicks.”

“Yeah,” you tell him bluntly, noticing that Makki’s still stubbornly staring out of the window. “You were.”

“Oikawa’s still pissed,” Mattsun admits next, taking a seat in front of your desk. “But he’ll get around. Kunimi pointed out that it was a blind date. You didn’t actively pick him.”

“Even if-” You start but Mattsun just shakes his head. “It’s Oikawa. Logic does not pull.”

“I’m only apologizing-” Makki interrupts, huffs, and continues, “I’ll only apologize if you do too.” He glares at you. Mattsun’s looking too, though his eyes are softer.

Finally, you nod and get up, offering your hand for Makki to shake.

“I’m sorry I made fun of you. It’s not your fault that you got fired.”

He huffs again. You know that sound. He sounds like that when he’s trying not to cry. And you suppose you can’t fault him for that. Friends just know where it hurts the most.

But he shakes your hand, his grip a bit firmer than it needs to be.

“I’m sorry that I called you an ugly bitch that has no game.”

Suddenly you can’t help but laugh. It flows freely, from deep within, has you bending over the desk as you cackle. They laugh along, softly first before it breaks out of them too.

“All good?” Makki asks when you eventually calm down.

“All good,” you agree, looking over at Mattsun. He shrugs. “Don’t look at me, I’ve always been good.”

“Sure,” you joke, “But just so you know, I’ll bring Wakatoshi along tonight.”

Makki rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll smoke him at Mario Kart.”

As it turns out, however, Wakatoshi smokes him.

Who knew he had it in him?

-.- Warsaw -.-

The front door closes with a soft click, alerting you.

“Shh!” You hiss at the boys before turning toward the door of the living room.

“Hey honey, welcome home!”

“Hi,” Wakatoshi steps inside, spots the beer and your laptop screen and waves. “Beers and Games?”

“Yeah, but it’s not that important.” You get up to kiss him, ignoring Makki who’s trying to make a point of his importance. “You wanna go out to eat?”

“Can we stay in?” He asks, “There’s this new movie that Satori recommended.”

“Yeah, sure,” you nod. “Go shower. I’ll make some food.”

He smiles and leans in for another kiss, waving at the camera before he leaves for the bathroom.

“So he doesn’t know, huh?” Mattsun asks as you pick up your laptop and carry it to the kitchen.

“No, I want to tell him tonight. Thanks for not spoiling it guys.”

“Anytime,” Kindaichi pipes in. You bet he’s got no clue what you’re talking about. “What are you making?”

“Golabki,” you answer, “Cabbage roles. I’ve been obsessed with these lately.”

You catch up while you cook, eager to hear more about Kindaichi’s budding relationship or Makki’s latest work adventure. Even Kyoutani contributes a lot today, proudly talking about how Yachi has won a prize for one of her designs.

At some point Wakatoshi appears, leaning into you as you work. He likes to be in the way when you facetime the team, thinks it’s funny that Makki has named him “the Log” or that he’s always blocking the drawer you need to get to the most.

“Move,” you tell him, pulling at his thighs. Behind him’s the cutlery you need to set the table.

“There’s a price for that,” he tells you quietly. You roll your eyes and move to kiss him. He shuffles slightly to the side, now blocking the cabinet that hides the plates.

It’s only after dinner, your laptop put away, the dishes done, that you find yourself back on the Couch, cuddled into him.

“Wakatoshi,” you address him, your hands shoved under his shirt. His eyes have closed but he’s still awake, you can tell by his breathing.

“Hmm?”

“Remember how we were talking about what we wanted to do on your next break?”

“Yes?” He opens one eye to squint at you. “Do you still want to go back to Japan?”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” you confess, “But we talked it through. It’s not feasible and I’ve got a better idea.”

That has him opening both his eyes. He can sense that something’s coming and you nestle further into him.

You like to surprise him, for sure. You love how quiet he gets when you do something special for him, almost unsure if he deserves it. If this is really just for him. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered by your feelings for him once in a while.

“I got us tickets to Paris,” you tell him quietly. “Tendō already knows.”

When he pulls you close he doesn’t have to say anything. You already know.

He misses his best friend just as much as you miss yours.

#my writing #Ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #Ushijima fluff #angst to fluff #Haikyuu fluff #Haikxuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #seijoh #Seijoh Four #aoba johsai

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