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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?�� He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

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toji-girl · 2 months

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confessions | priest! s. geto

synopsis: He made a vow to God and was serious about keeping it, he never wanted to stray off the path of righteousness until he met you who he swore was a demon sent to seduce and tempt him, so he has to make sure you're not.

wc: 6.9k

tags: dark content + please heed this before reading +18+ ONLY content + minors and empty blogs DNI + modern au + repost from my old blog + this has been beta read + lots of religious themes because he’s a Priest and lots of sex talk and thinking about it + praising + sacrilegious themes + anthropolatry + body worship + virgin! Suguru (virginity loss) + corruption kink + desecration + sex in a confessional booth + edging + overstimulation + Father being used inappropriately + Satoru x you + Toji x you, breeding + female and male masturbation + fingering + spitting + dirty talking + unprotected sex + creampie + teasing + spanking + squirting + fellatio + dirty talking + cunnilingus + gagging obsessive behavior from Suguru and you + stalking + voyeurism + non-consensual recording + any missing tag lmk!

AN: this was posted such a long time ago but it has been heavily rewritten and edited - this was for a collab, can't remember who it was, but I know it was for this theme and after seeing a fanart of Suguru as a priest, and since he won my poll I knew he would fit this! he might be ooc to some so please remember!!

If anyone were to pass by Suguru’s office late at night they would hear the soft prayers, him begging God to stop the thoughts that were plaguing his mind over you, the woman who wormed her way into his brain like some sort of parasite, or perhaps you were a test designed to see if he would fail.

It was immoral the way he thought about how soft your body would feel underneath him. and it sure didn’t help when you came to Church dressed in your Sunday best, a tight dress that gave everyone just a hint of what lies beneath the cheap fabric.

You flaunted what God gave you. Well, that’s what you told Suguru when he raised an eyebrow, eyes roamed your body settling on your legs, legs that he thought about wrapped around his head more than once.

You haunted his dreams, soon bleeding into his daily thoughts when he was awake. Even in prayer, he would trail off thinking about you kneeling like the good girl you are under his desk, his cock slapping against your tongue in the most sinful ways, those thoughts would earn him more prayers.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, please, I just want to know how she would taste. That is all.”

Shame filled the priest as he stared into the mirror, looking at his dick throbbing under his cassock. Blood rushed to his cheeks when he hiked up the fabric, palming his erection wishing to God you were there.

It was something to relieve the tingle sitting heavy in his balls. Another thought of you on your knees, mouth open, tongue out and covered in his cum, your eyes glittering with the knowledge you corrupted him and a smile to boot.

Thoughts like his filled your head too as you humped your pillow or when you invited Toji over, your father’s friend and another member of the Church who often comes to your place to have you ride her strap, over and over again like the sinner you are.

You wanted to cry out your priest’s name instead when you finally came, pussy pulsing around Toji’s cock, it would be such a shame if Suguru could see you now; mouth hanging open, drool trickling down your chin with your fingers gripping on the leather fabric of the couch asking Toji to call you a bad girl and punish you because you deserve it, and who was he to disagree? After all, you’re sleeping with everyone but him.

Here Toji was fucking his best friend’s daughter, his fingers pinching your waist, slamming you back against him, and the way your back arched more into it, mewling like a cat in heat. It was a weekly occurrence letting him cum inside you, the feeling you soon became obsessed with.

Neither of you spoke about it, especially as you sat next to him the next morning, feeling your panties dampen from the quickie you had earlier in his car in the parking lot. He liked to keep his hand on your knee when no one was paying attention, or so he thought.

Suguru kept his eyes trained on you whenever you were around, but he never made it obvious, taking only small glances to make sure you weren’t doing anything that would get you in trouble.

Little does he know about the nights you would stay to pray for your sins, asking God to forgive you for the vile things you do only for you to get fucked on the pews by Toji who helped you light the candle and say a prayer for what just happened. It was a fun game you played with him, but your main focus was Suguru.

It was abominable to say the least, how your fingers ghosted over your clit at night, thinking of him above you, pinning your wrists down, grunting whilemercilessly drilling your needy cunt until you couldn’t think straight anymore.

It was an everyday thought that swam through your empty head. Most people called you airheaded but it was only because you thrived off the attention from the males who watched your eyelashes bat and lips pucker, crossing your arms over your chest, the attention was nice.

A tooth-rotting “Please?” was all it would take, especially for Toji who was quick to spread your legs and hike up your dress, pressing his tongue against your clit, feeling it throb in need, and watching your legs shake after the orgasm he just gave you, cum covering your thighs.

You felt wet and sticky as you sat down crossing your legs, listening to Suguru perform his sermon. His words flowed through one ear and out of the other, shifting in your seat, uncrossing just at the right time to let him get an eyeful of your soaked panties, making all his blood rush to his cock, so he had to excuse himself shortly afterward so he could go into his office and wrap his fist tightly around his shaft, fucking his hand as his life depended on it.

At first, he let his mind go blank, but then visions of you on his desk with your legs spread open, handcuffs on your wrists, and connecting to the ones on your ankles invaded his mind. That was exactly the way he wanted you to be. All the depraved things you could think of, Suguru had already thought of.

He lay down each night thinking of you before he fell asleep. All he wanted to do was cum in you once, feel your warm tight pussy milking him dry from all that he has to offer. The thought of you being a demon crossed his mind once when he first met you a few months ago. Your parents spoke about you after his services showing off your pictures.

His eyes slightly widened, taking in how beautiful you are. It was a shock when the first dirty idea popped into his head. Suguru dedicated his life to being a man of God, but the mere thought of hearing your moans brought him to his knees.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. Your parents told me all about you.” Was the first thing he told you months prior, reaching for your hand, shaking it softly while holding your curious gaze. The glitter in your eyes made him look twice in awe and wonder what that twinkle was.

It was the first time he thought about you being possessed because that’s the only way you would have such power over him from just one look, using your demonic charms on him, enticing him by wearing your short dresses, laying the charm on thick in order to seduce him.

For a response you giggled, looking sweetly at him, and his body reacted immediately to the sound of your voice, sending a shiver down his spine. And it was worse whenever he got a whiff of your perfume, following you like a dog, trying to ask you questions that seemed friendly.

All conversations never passed inappropriate because he wouldn’t want to be perceived as anything but an upstanding man of the Church, but that never stopped him cumming on his stomach and whimpering while fucking his fist, your name slipping out in breathy moans.

If Suguru heard you make the same noises he would surely cum on the spot, sending himself into overstimulation.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to pray away the guilt. It’s all wrong, and he knows it, but it’s human nature is what he tells himself when you come into his office on Sundays after service, holding a small bouquet of flowers that grows around town.

“Father? I just wanted to come in and say thank you for everything. You’ve shown me the light and I wanted to show you my gratitude.” You told him in a soft voice watching as Suguru leaned back smiling, holding his hand out.

“Come in. And thank you, that is very kind of you. How are you holding up with your job?” He asked curiously.

You sat across from him crossing your legs. “Thank you for asking, it’s been going well so far.”

It wasn’t unusual of him to ask you questions in small increments, hoping to learn your schedule. He just wanted to get to know you better.

Or was his behavior borderline something darker? Perhaps.

Maybe it was creepy to do so, but it wasn’t something he dwelled on for long before thinking of you bouncing on his cock, your hands on his shoulders struggling to take him all in at first, your whining about how big he is stroking his ego, sending his hips upward, impaling you deeper.

That was his favorite fantasy, that played over and over in his head like a movie until he noticed the way you sat closer to Toji, ghosting his knee with yours or the way you smiled so sweetly for him. Why don’t you smile for your Father like that? The thought enraged him at first because instead of him fucking you it was Toji.

Anger filled Suguru like hot liquid pouring into his veins. And he felt sick to his stomach every time he heard you giggling while grabbing Toji’s arm, looking at him with doe eyes.

There was nothing to be done about that, and still, he didn’t have an inkling that you made a late-night stop at the adult store looking for a dildo that would resemble what you think his dick looks like, pretty with a red flushed tip, thick and heavy, veins decorating the long shaft and heavy balls made for breeding that swung with each thrust of his hips. It was only that thought that made you achieve the blissful feeling of your climax.

You wanted to know what sounds he made when he came, knowing full well he’s never fucked anyone but his hand. The thought of corrupting him was exciting to you.

You waved and smiled at Suguru before sitting next to Toji. “Am I coming over tonight?” He asked, leaning in and whispering in your ear. You turned to him, giving his knee the same friendly squeeze.

“Yes, be at my place at eight.”

The only reason you still let Toji come over and fuck you is so you use your dildo later, pretending it was Suguru, fucking his cum back in your sloppy pussy. Something about the whole thing was a bit off, but you didn’t care when thinking of all the ways you could make Suguru confess his sins to you.

Your mind ran wild all during service, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, resisting the urge to stick your hand between your legs, which would be frowned upon to do in Church, no less during service.

Later that night, you were on your back, with Toji on top of you panting and drooling over you like a dog. “Do you like that?” He grunted, holding your waist, kneading the flesh with rough hands. You cringed hearing him talk like that, his hands moving up to your breasts squishing them, movements growing sloppy. Your head hung off the side of the bed fisting the sheets.

Suguru watched the scene unfold in front of your living room window on the opposite side of the wall. Another strike off the list of things he never thought he would do. It wasn’t something he would ever admit out loud, too scared that someone would hear with their prying ears. Besides, you were supposed to be at your friend’s house.

That’s what he heard you tell your parents earlier when you declined their invitation for dinner, so stumbling upon this sight was the last thing that he expected.

Suguru accidentally found your address going through the visitor log you signed with your new address, finally out from under your parent’s roof after moving back home. That’s what he told himself, that finding out where you live just slipped up. No one would question him.

A frown tugged down his lips, watching the way your face showed nothing but boredom almost, not the look Suguru imagined when you were getting fucked. Was it him you thought about with each bounce of your body from Toji’s thrusts? There was no way that he was pleasuring you the way that Suguru could.

His eyes traveled down your naked body, zeroing in on the way his friend held your breasts, pushing them together. A groan escaped his lips, followed by pink-tinged cheeks as he walked past your window, keeping his raven head down.

Each Sunday you were sure to bring cookies of all sorts, and at every bake sale you helped set up, you captured the hearts of everyone, cooing about how sweet you are, dedicating time to do this.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I admire Father Geto and everything he stands for so I’m more than glad to help.” That always earned you brownie points and the, “Aw, that’s very precious of you.”

Would they say how precious you are if they found you on your knees in the closet with another member of the church?

Satoru loved when you held his wrist, dragging him in the cramped space, pressing his body against the wall, digging your manicured nails in the flesh of his thighs, relishing in the hissing sound he made driving his cock down your throat, gagging around him, earning the praise that you were so desperate to hear.

“Good girl. Just like that.” He moaned, grabbing a handful of your hair to anchor himself, watching his spit-covered cock slide in and out of your mouth, your eyes glassy playing with your clit under the skirt you wore just for him per his request. You didn’t pull away with a wet pop of your lips until you swallowed as much as you could.

Satoru was always quick to help you get on your feet, flipping up your skirt, making it easier for him to bend you over, fucking you from behind, filling not only your mouth but your cunt as well with a load of his cum.

Another prayer was said when you stepped out of the closet, bidding Satoru a farewell kiss before rounding the corner, and running straight into Suguru. You reached for his arms, steadying yourself. The feeling of his hand on the small of your back and his spicy scent that filled your nostrils made your pussy clench, pushing out Satoru’s cum, and smearing it against your panties.

“I didn’t know you were still here Father. I’m sorry.” You said bowing your head. Suguru chuckled, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“No worries. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I was just looking over the plans for tomorrow’s potluck. I’m making your favorite cookies. It’s still chocolate chip, right?” You asked batting those eyelashes of yours and those lips were perfectly pouty.

“Ah. Yes, it is. You have a good memory.” This ache sparked in his hand, wanting to reach out to feel how you felt under his touch. Were you thinking the same thing as you stared at him, eyes still glossy from the tears of your previous encounter?

“Father, I think I need to confess something.” Your voice came out as a whisper, stepping forward wrapping your fingers around the hidden rosary beads under his collar and pulling it free.

Suguru opened his mouth to answer but you were quicker. “Ah, Father. I was talking. I hope you weren’t going to interrupt me?” You asked mockingly, pursing your lips, forming a small pout. He shook his head watching your sticky lips from the smeared lip gloss and spit.

“Can I come and confess next Sunday?”

“Yes, I’ll see you then. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Have a blessed night.” He grabbed his rosary from your fingers’ hold, careful not to touch you before tucking it back in his collar, leaning down with a slight smirk, “next time you attempt to touch me I’ll be sure to tie your wrists down.”

You could hear him chuckle to himself walking down the hallway, mentally giving himself a point.

It was shameless the way he flirted with you, but it felt freeing, giving the both of you masturbation material for later in the evening, him fucking his fist again in the shower, leaning against the wall, panting loudly, face screwed up in pleasure as he stood under the warm water, feeling it wash the soap away while your name spilled from his mouth, his hips stuttered spraying cum all over the tile grunting.

While you lay on your bed replaying the scene again, you thrust the dildo slowly, curling your toes, whining Suguru’s name, and arching your back. The need to have him between your legs lapping at your pussy, made you ache all over like the flu, hot and stiff muscles, mewling, trying to chase your orgasm, feeling the familiar sensation snap, sending your cunt into overdrive, pulsing around the toy.

Suguru woke each morning, adding an extra prayer when he looked in the mirror, getting ready. “I only want one thing, that’s to hear her whimper.”

It was sinful in many ways, the way he begged for just a scrap of something other than the polite tone you use with him. Everyone greeted him with a smile, only earning a meager wave and a solemn look on his face, but whenever he looked at you, his face lit up, and each time he prayed that nobody paid attention.

His only thought was you, it wasn’t just about the ways he wanted to have you, it was also how you were doing, the consuming thought of you in your kitchen, making his favorite cookies. It wasn’t something you had to do, but he’s been nothing but nice to you, and now with the promise of him tying your hands together lingering in the air, you were ready to do whatever it took.

Sunday morning, you were sure to wear the color that attracted his attention the most, white. A sign of you being pure and innocent, but he knew that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t a secret to him anymore, after him watching Toji fuck you on your couch, and after hearing Satoru confess about the quickie you two had the other day, when he thought that no prying ears were around.

Later that evening he heard you click the door shut and sit down, fixing your skirt. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.” You began, clearing your throat and glancing over at the wooden window, through the small holes, watching him squirm in his seat. This is it, you thought, it’s all or nothing.

“I’ve been having premarital sex with two men. They attend the church. You know them. Toji Fushiugro and Satoru Gojo. I let Toji bend me over the pews a few times, holding my hips as he stretched me out with his cock. Then I would get on my knees for Satoru.” If you were to confess this to another priest, they would gasp, hearing the lewd way you describe your deeds, but not Suguru.

Your mind was running wild with the thoughts of your story. “Father? What should I do?” You whimpered, gripping your skirt, and rubbing your knees together.

“Touch yourself.” Suguru groaned, his voice straining to keep his composure. He shouldn’t be asking you such a thing for more than one reason.

You smiled and gasped loud enough for him to hear, feigning to be shocked by his request, but you obliged nonetheless without the slightest resistance, making his prayer come true. He heard the wood creak underneath you as you spread your legs, guiding your finger to your clit to rub the swollen bud with your middle finger.

“You want me to touch myself, Father? Should I slide my fingers inside? Do you want to hear how wet you make me?”

His cock twitched heavily in his pants running his palm over the bulge. “Y-yes, keep going.” He instructed hoarsely. Following his order, you splayed your lips open gathering your slick easily, thrusting your middle and index finger in your cunt, the wet sound filled the small booth.

The faster you went the harder Suguru’s cock got, aching to the point of pain. “Father, can I cum?” You were asking him for permission? The pure feeling he got coursing through his body tingled all throughout.

“Did you think about me when you were fucking them?” He asked, shutting his eyes.

“I did, yes. And when they left, I fucked myself with the dildo I bought after thinking of how big you were, stuffing their cum deeper in me, wishing it was you instead.” You whined softly wanting him to touch you.

Oh, this was much better than anything he’s ever experienced. It was a sin, but hearing you play with yourself next to him, everything that happened leading up to this point was worth it.

“S’close,” You moaned, grazing your fingertips against the abused swollen bud, triggering your orgasm and prayer. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and; forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.”

“Amen,” Suguru muttered, feeling his balls release, sending thick ropes of cum in his boxers, covering his thighs making a mess.

“Say your Hail Mary before you go to sleep.”

You chucked checking a point off for yourself. “Goodnight Father. I’ll be sure to think of you tonight.” You told him, opening his door, sliding just your hand in, setting your panties on his knee, and giving him a soft pat. “I’ve masturbated in these to you many times.” With that, you left the booth heading home to say your Hail Marys.

Another week of misery. Your moaning playing on a loop in his head. Many times he almost slipped mid-conversation whenever you walked by him, letting his mind and eyes wander, and hoped that it wasn’t obvious to whoever he was talking to at the moment.

It wasn’t usual for him to catch you washing dishes after a potluck for someone’s birthday. “Thank you for staying and helping with the dishes,” Suguru told you, walking into the kitchen. “Father, good evening.” You smiled, glancing up at him from the sink, elbow-deep in dishwater. A smile stretched his lips back. Stepping further in, he walked around the counter, leaning against the edge, grabbing the dish towel, and drying the dishes you washed.

“How are you feeling since your last confession?” He asked in a low voice.

“I’m feeling a lot better. I plan on being back next Sunday at the same time. I’ve been very naughty Father.” You whispered looking at him.

Suguru’s cock throbbed watching you lick your lips. “How should I repent?” You asked, leaning forward, taking note of his rapid pulse.

“Say another Hail Mary and don’t touch yourself until your next confession.”

“That’s going to be tough.” You pouted, draining the water and then wiping your wet hands over your shirt, soaking the see-through fabric.

“Does that mean someone else can touch me?”

Suguru shook his head, still holding the plate in his hand leaning in as you did the same. “No. You can keep celibate for me, can you not?”

“Yes, Father.” You nodded, trying to swallow the lump that formed in your throat, the tension so thick it was beginning to become harder to breathe, being this close to him. Maybe an inch closer and your lips would press against his, and your cunt would graze his thigh, releasing some of the pressure building between your legs.

“Good girl.” Suguru pulled back, setting the dish towel down. “Have a good night.” He called out before leaving you alone to collect your thoughts, a heavy sigh accompanied with a soft whine left your lips leaning against the counter. You debated calling Satoru for a quickie, he didn’t live far from your apartment so it wouldn’t take him long to get there and help you out, but the thought of Suguru calling you a good girl played repeatedly in your head.

It wasn’t long before you broke your promise, letting Satoru lick your clit, his fingers splaying you open, both legs thrown over his shoulders, emitting loud slurping noises from eating you like a starved man, long fingers digging in your sensitive cunt.

Today you were greedy with how many orgasms you could get, so far you hit three just with his mouth. “Are you still cumming sweetheart?” Satoru asked, pulling away and looking up at you, chin glistening from spit and cum, reminding you of the last time you sucked him off. “Satoru, please, fuck me!” You whined wrapping your fingers around his biceps.

Your pussy hugged him tightly with each drag of his cock splitting you open, his fingers in the tender meat of your thighs keeping them spread apart. Each time his hips slammed against your ass your eyes rolled to the back of your head. When your eyes closed you imagined Suguru over you grunting instead, sweat rolling down his back rutting into you, over and over again, making you cream around him.

By now Satoru knew the routine, leaving with a small awkward hug, his feelings growing deeper for you each time you shed your clothes for him, but he didn’t know about your obsession with Suguru, nor about how it was growing deeper with each passing day. Toji also shared the same feelings as Satoru.

It was hard not to. The way you treated them so sweetly and of course, everyone else too. Sure you were a little empty-headed, but that didn’t matter each time you bounced on their cocks.

No other girl would dare do something so vile, ruining their chance of getting a good husband, but you didn’t care, because the feeling of an orgasm was something that couldn’t be compared to something such as exchanging rings.

You said your prayers every morning and night, to disperse the feeling of guilt nipping at your ankles, it was wrong to defile yourself and all your beliefs, but in the end, you’re only a person with needs.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself anyway, sliding up your skirt in the bathroom stall, pulling your panties down, and letting Toji thrust in you later that afternoon.

His hands are on your waist holding you against the wall, rutting in you. It was fruitless at this point, having him or Satoru fuck you, your face giving away the boredom you felt. Toji cleared his throat as he pulled out. “You know, you could seem a little bit interested.” He said clearly pissed that you weren��t even acting like you liked it.

“I’m sorry,” You replied, putting your hands on his shoulders. “I’ve been going through a lot lately, but why don’t you give me a call later?” With a chaste kiss on his cheek, you left him in the bathroom stall after pulling your panties up, walking out frowning. There was this pit in your stomach that was slowly growing bigger, it first started when you met Suguru, and now months later, all your thoughts were of him.

Everything about this whole situation was wrong. You knew it but it never stopped you.

Sunday evening, you opened the booth, settling on the creaky wooden bench, a heavy sigh emitting from your lips. Suguru placed his hands in his lap waiting for you to begin. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was a week ago.”

He wouldn’t admit to knowing that you sinned after shamelessly watching you pump your dildo in and out of your wet cunt, learning that you were a squirter.

The only reason he knew that was because after his plan was hindered the other night by you being home, he chose another time to come back. Luckily, the neighborhood you live in is not very frequented, so no one saw him creep in and out of your house. Unbeknownst to you, he installed cameras all over your house, obsessed with knowing how you spent your days, and how, and with who, you spent your nights.

It wasn’t the first time that he masturbated to you, but unlike the other times, now he could actually see you, and there was something about invading your privacy that aroused him beyond comprehension, it felt so wrong and yet so right.

He never came so hard before, shooting thick ropes of cum everywhere, feeling like he was about to pass out from the intensity of his orgasm. Weak and panting, it wasn’t long before he drifted to sleep, hand, and chest still covered in sweat, spit, and cum.

“I touched myself, and I let them touch me again. Their fingers and tongues fucking me. I wished it was your cock I was on instead. Your cum filling my cunt, leaking out, and making a mess. Would you fuck me, Father?” Your last sentence came out whiny, as you spread your legs stroking your cunt.

Suguru’s breath trembled as he copied your actions, before grinding the heel of his palm against his erection. “I would.” He admitted with a heavy sigh.

Your fingers slipped in your cunt, curling. There was no way it would bring you the pleasure that you truly craved. “I want you to touch me, please. What do you think I feel like?” You asked, wanting to hear him submit to your sinful ways.

“Your skin, soft and supple. Your pussy, wet and warm, pulsing around my cock. Your mouth, the same way as I fuck your throat.”

His words felt like an electric shock coursing through your blood, pooling in your cunt, making your walls restrict your fingers, on the verge of an orgasm already, your breathing becoming erratic.

“It usually takes you a while to climax, doesn’t it?” He asked, bunching the fabric of his cassock in his free hand, the other wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, edging himself.

“I-it does yes, but when I envision you, I usually cum right then.” You were quick to admit it, but he would be lying if he said that the same thing didn’t happen to him. Thinking of his face between your breasts tightened his balls.

“Tell me, what do you think about in these fantasies, when thinking about us?” He asked stroking his dick from base to tip making sure to twist his wrist.

“How your cock would feel inside. I think you have the biggest one I could lay my eyes on, and it’s thick too. Just tell me if I’m right Father, because I’m imagining the way I would struggle to take you all the way in, squealing, splitting myself open on you. And when you climax, it’s a lot and very thick coming from heavy balls made to breed, would you like to do that? Pump all your cum inside my pretty pussy? Holding my hips down, making sure that I keep still so every drop isn’t wasted?”

Words couldn’t formulate in his brain, drunk on the thought of what you just described, burned into his mind. He never thought about having children after his vow of celibacy, but now, it was all he could think about. Your whimpers grew louder, echoing through the empty Church as you neared your orgasm.

“Stop!” Suguru demanded, roughly surprising you as he stood up unbuttoning his cassock and then heading to your booth. There was no stopping what was going to happen next. Both of you have been waiting for this moment since the first time you laid eyes on each other.

Your eyes widened, taking in his naked chest. It was visible that he has broad shoulders, but what you didn’t think about was how he still stayed in shape. Saliva pooled in the corner of your mouth as it hung open. Greedy hands tugged his boxers down, freeing his cock hearing how it slap against his abs.

“I was right, thick and long.” You murmured watching him kick the door shut leaning his arm against the wall above your head while looking down at your fingers wrapping around his shift.

Suguru chuckled darkly, yanking your shirt up, freeing your tits. “No bra… Did you think tonight was the night you seduced me?” He asked, bucking his hips at your touch, a small whimper leaving his mouth.

You laughed, looking up at him. “Seduce and corrupt you Father. It’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Has it now? Why-” He was cut off, feeling your lips wrap around his head, tongue curling under the most sensitive part, suckling, your hand cupping his balls gently, squeezing them. Suguru’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, digging his nails in the palm of his hand when you went further down, struggling to take him.

Slowly you bobbed your head up and down, keeping your fist wrapped around him, jerking him off, adding more drool making it easier and messier.

You gagged, feeling tears spring to your eyes. Looking up, you saw the look of sheer pleasure gracing his face, the sounds of you slurping around him roaring in his ears. It was so much better than his hand, your soft mouth warm and tight, the best thing he’s ever fucked.

He watched you pull away with a wet pop of your lips, using your spit as lube to jerk him off, pressing your thumb over his slit, slightly pressing in.

“Am I doing a good job, Father?” You asked, batting your eyelashes, glancing up. Suguru nodded his head, groaning.

“You are, but I want a taste of you now.”

It was a sight to see him drop to his knees in front of you, putting both hands on your knees, pushing your legs open, your bare pussy on display like a meal for him to devour. But before that happened, Suguru wanted to take his time. Setting the mood, pressing small kisses, he grabbed your ankle, letting your foot dangle off his shoulder.

You watched his lips leave a wet trail up your thighs, ghosting across your pussy, barely fluttering his tongue over your clit, kissing the same places down your other leg. He chuckled, feeling you squirm under his touch. “What’s so funny?” You pouted.

“I’ve barely touched you and I see your cunt dripping.”

You sucked a breath between your teeth, feeling him spread your lips apart, looking at the innermost part of your pussy, your arousal very apparent, coating your thighs and the bench below your ass.

“I’ve thought about what my cum would look like leaking from all of your holes. Have you ever let a man fuck that tight ass?” He asked, moving his hand away, trailing the tip of his finger up and down your slit, groaning as he watched the way you clenched around nothing.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Good. I’ll be the first then, but we’ll save that for later. For now, I can’t wait to know what your cunt tastes like.” He growled, wrapping his arms under and around your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulder, burying his tongue in your cunt, eagerly lapping, completely ignoring your fingers tugging on his blonde roots, and grinding against his mouth.

At this point it was no longer for you, he was eating you for his own pleasure.

Cum soaked his thigh, as he came desperately trying to fit his tongue in your tight hole. “Father!” You moaned, squeezing his head with your thighs, humping his face as you grabbed two handfuls of his long hair.

Suguru slid two fingers inside you, slowly pumping while wrapping his tongue around your clit, working both of them together, feeling you clench around him. This is better than his fantasies, he thought, finally hearing you moan for him, begging for release.

Pulling out he watched your clit throb from the orgasm that he ripped away. “Why did you stop?” You whined, fucking yourself on his fingers, making him chuckle again.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He mocked, adding in another finger.

Hearing the squelch, his balls tightened again, thrusting his fingers in and out, lapping up your juices from his hand. “You’re so perfect, the way your pussy is fluttering on the edge of release. I want to show you how good it feels to cum on my cock. Are you ready?”

All you could manage was a weak nod, your body feeling hot and tingly with each thrust of his fingers, stroking the fire deep in your stomach until it was too much to handle as you came around him, his mouth replacing his fingers, licking up your cum, softly digging his fingers in your thigh, covering your skin with your slick, both of you panting heavily looking at each other. “Who knew you were such a pro?” You teased cupping his cheek.

Suguru pressed a wet kiss to your palm as he stayed on his knees, dragging the hem of your dress up to your waist. The tension between the two of you, and the look you shared, weighed heavy on the unspoken rule of what’s to come, once he crosses the line of fucking you.

The line was crossed the first time he had inappropriate dreams of you, so he didn’t spare a second thought when he fisted the base of his cock, guiding it to your waiting pussy.

You were barely seated on the wooden bench when Suguru held your hips, pressing his cock in. A whimper left your lips, feeling his head slip past your soft muscles. Each inch that slid in made you feel impossibly full and he was only halfway in. “Oh my God, you’re so big!”

Hearing that stroked his ego, both of you gasping once he bottomed out. He held your hips, rutting against you, sliding in and out. Each time he would pull almost all the way out and then slide in slowly. Your back arched, clinging to him, trying to squirm away at first from him stuffing you, it was a mixture of pain and pleasure, feeling this full.

Leaning forward, Suguru trailed kisses across your chest and clavicle, nibbling the skin, lazily fucking you, his mind turning into a puddle the closer he got to cumming.

It frustrated him knowing he was this close already. His eyebrows furrowed, feeling the sweat roll down his face, not only from how hot it was in the cramped area but also the fact that he was desecrating something so sacred while worshipping you, his words bleeding into your skin.

“I always knew you were a good girl.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I love it when you squeeze me like that.”

“You’re doing such a good job.”

“Moan louder for me sweetheart. Let me know how much you like fucking me.”

“Keep going!” You begged sitting up, wrapping your arms around his neck, bucking your hips, the both of you desperately fucking each other. Movements became harder and sloppier, the noises went from sighs and moans to something completely animalistic. You snarled each time you felt his balls slap against your ass. He held your waist helping you bounce up and down with the heels of your feet pressed against his tight ass cheeks.

“You’re so wet. Do you hear how wet you are for me? You’re being such a good girl for me… I don’t want to let go now that I’ve had a taste of you.” He growled, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest, fucking you from below.

It was heavenly, the way your cunt hugged his cock like a vice grip, the feeling was indescribable, nothing could ever compare to the way you clung to him, mewling like a cat in heat, burying your head in the crook of his neck, rolling your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic bone.

“I’m so close. Want you to cum in me, Father. Breed me, please!” You begged, pulling away with wet eyes, bouncing harder, feeling your nipples rub against the blonde hair littering his chest.

You’ve never felt this way before, the way you ground on him shamelessly without a care in the world, it didn’t matter that he was your priest or that you took his virginity in his confessional booth.

“We’re both going to have to pray after this.” You murmured in his ear, smirking. Pink crept in his cheeks. He muttered a response, something you didn’t hear nor did you care to.

You kissed him, parting his lips with your tongue, tasting him greedily. It wasn’t every day that you got to fuck your priest, nor did you get to feel him hold your hips, slamming down, impaling you on his dick.

Suguru felt your orgasm hit, tipping him into his own, spraying ropes of cum against your cervix, whimpering in your neck about how good you feel, his hands massaging your waist, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“How do you feel now?” You asked, slicking his blonde hair back gazing into his hazel eyes.

“Like a brand new man.” He answered, smiling softly at you.

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 4 months

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hi it's the good omens mascot here's some shit about me that might be relevant

I appear to have accidentally caused chaos so I figured you might as well know about me since I'm responsible for it. And also so that you know who you broke, thanks ineffable fandom.

I have been called the prophet by some of you all. This is not entirely untrue, but I would like to add as I did in one post, that Apollo also gave me the curses of art, (very emotional) music, (sometimes good mostly dreadful) poetry, (same parentheses apply, except that the dreadful is on purpose) writing and (used to be good now dreadful) medical knowledge, and so yes, you did accidently adopt a messenger of an ancient Greek god.

Yes, this entire entry into your cult happened from start to now happened in 48 hours.

This will seem less bizarre when I give you context about me and fandoms. I changed career paths (after three years of intense study that cost me my sanity) from science to the arts because I was inspired by drarry fanfiction of them leaving their ministry jobs and following their dreams. Yes I tossed three years and my loss of sanity away in one week of decisions. I'm now a designer. Thanks Draco.

I read so much drarry fanfiction that my mum had to take me to the hospital for injured wrists. I wore wrist and elbow supports and was in constant pain for a few months. I was only later introduced to autoscroll. Yes, I am a fool. Yes, I am unaware of how to human.

I'm broke and cheap enough that I feel guilty buying bottled water, but for Christmas I spent the equivalent of around 150 bottles of water getting a Bakewell tart custom made (they don't sell them where I live). Why? Because in one single fanfiction, it is Draco's favourite food. I would never spend that kind of money on a dessert for any real human being.

That is to say, you all are not ready for when I REALLY fall for Crowley. I don't saunter vaguely downwards for people. I bypass earth and crash into hell, leaving a smoking pit in its infernal ground.

I swear I'm not as dumb as I seem, I just have ZERO general knowledge, and am terrible with faces. I can tell you what the graffiti on the walls of Pompeii from before 70 AD said but I don't know who my previous president was, and personally I think that's very classy of me.

Some of you seem concerned about my sleep schedule. Worry not, I sleep in four installments, night, morning nap, afternoon nap, evening nap. I sleep more than you all, that I can promise. I sleep more than my doggy sister.

About the streams and the timezones, I have no idea how to make it so people can watch, because I frequently mix up east and west and last morning I mixed up the Pacific and Atlantic ocean. I don't know at what point the Eastern hemisphere becomes the Western or how any of it works. I also thought Wakanda was a real place.

But hey fun fact, in 2020 diclofenac sales were dropping in Iceland. I know this because I wanted to make sure to use the correct painkiller in one sentence of a story I was writing. It was completely irrelevant. But hey any of you writers here probably feel my pain. I don't write fanfiction, but I am an author and I write original stories. And honestly what is more useful, Icelandic diclofenac sales from three years ago or timezones?

A career test once told me to be a standup comedian.

Yes that's me Asmi, just your regular dumbass lad who is slightly unhinged, serving himbo twink energy, hello hi nice to meet you all. PS: the poll results are out and Doctor Who won, so tremble, DW fandom.

#good omens fandom #good omens mascot #asmi #weirdly-specific-but-ok #this is me y'all #good omens brainrot #thanks for breaking me i figured you should know about me #crowley #just crowley i'm going to shatter soon #drarry #draco malfoy #fandom culture #fandom things #doctor who #dw fandom #more inaccurate summaries coming up #good omens #fanfiction #and how it ruined and saved me

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sinofwriting · 9 months

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Fans and Press - Oscar Piastri

Words: 776 Summary: Oscar finds out from a reporter that his girlfriend was spotted at a hospital. Note(s): Did a poll to see if people would want this and it was a majority yes. Also based on me having to get an MRI earlier today. Already got the results back, but have to wait for my doctor to call to discuss, but it’s looking like I’m getting surgery. Wish me luck!

Taglist | Masterlist

Oscar could feel his jaw twitch. He hated having to deal with media after DNFing. It was all part of the job, but it wasn’t his favorite. Though media duties in general weren’t his favorite thing.

He nods along to what the reporter from Sky Sports is saying to him, wiping a hand over his forehead, just wishing to get through debrief and sit in his driver's room. Call his girlfriend back, knowing she’ll have already seen the results and called him.

The sound of her name snaps him out of thoughts. Reporters had never brought her up. They were the definition of private not secret. “What?” “Your girlfriend,” the reporter repeats. “Was spotted at the hospital by a fan. Apparently getting an MRI. Is her visiting the hospital possibly the reason for what happened today?” His jaw nearly drops, disbelief and concern wanting to show on his face, but he just shakes his head. “What happened today was unfortunate. But it had nothing to do with personal things going on.” and before he can stop himself, media training disappearing for a moment. “Besides can’t be the reason If I didn’t know that was happening.” He winces immediately after making the comment, at the way the reporter's eyes widen, and he’s thankful when he’s pulled away by his press officer.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes immediately, as soon as they are away from the media. She shakes her head, “That was mild and easily dealt with. Call your girlfriend, write a report of what happened today and get out of here. A full debrief will happen when you go back to Woking for testing.” He wants to question it, the whole thing sounding too good to be true, but he couldn’t risk it being taken away. Not when concern is taking over his whole being now that he’s in private.

He rushes to his driver's room, striping out of his race suit and fire proofs as he dials her number.

She picks up after three rings, “Oscar, baby, I-“ He cuts her off before she can continue. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?” “What? Oscar, are you okay?” “A reporter told me that someone saw you at a hospital. Getting a scan.” He holds his breath as he waits for her to answer, hoping that it’s not true. That the fan was just mistaken. “Oh,” the quiet response tells him all he needs to know and he’s never been more thankful that he's not a messy guy, his suitcase already packed sitting by the door. With a pair of socks, underwear, sweatpants, and hoodie sitting on his couch ready for him to put on.

“What happened?” “Oscar, maybe we should wait until your home.” The usual warm feeling of her calling his apartment, well their apartment, home isn’t there. There’s just dread sitting heavy in his stomach. “I want to know now.” “You won’t be able to sit through debrief if I tell you now.” “I don’t have a debrief. I got told to call you, do a report and get to you and that’s what I’m doing.”

There’s silence for a moment and then she sighs.

“Don’t be mad.” He says her name, already not liking where this is going. “I’ve been having some pain for the past few months.” “What?” He nearly shouts. Pulling his phone away from his ear he puts on speaker before googling flights and pulling on the clothes he set out earlier. Hoping there will be something sooner than tomorrow afternoon. “It’s not anything too serious. I just,” she stops and he stops searching, anger and hurt simmering inside of him. “I should have told you.” He’s silent, but resumes his searching. Clicking on a flight that leaves in three hours and thankfully doesn’t have any connectors. “The doctor thinks it’s a muscle tear.” He takes a sharp breath. “If that is what it is, I’ll have to get surgery. It all depends on what imaging says.” “I thought muscle tears could heal on their own.” “They can. But if they are going to heal on their own they do it within two to four weeks. It’s been longer than that for me.”

“Are you okay?” He asks. “Are you in pain?” “I’m alright, baby. Promise. They gave me some muscle relaxers, they help.” “But you are in pain.” “Only when I do certain things. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.” “Darling,” he says pained. “I’m okay, Os. I promise. My doctor will call me sometime tomorrow with the results.” “I’m coming home now. There’s a flight that leaves in three hours.” His voice turns soft, “I’ll be home soon.” “Okay,” she pauses. “I love you.” “I love you too.”

---

Tagging: @gemofthenight

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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hihhasotherfixations · 2 months

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Wedded - Dragon! John Price x Reader | Chapter 1

When you are mistaken by a dragon as his promised bride, you unexpectedly need to learn how to live with your new husband. After all, the dragon made a deal, and he wants his end of the bargain - you.

Current | Next Chapter

The results of the poll were clear. Dragon Price is first to come up and be written. This was also the only option who’s fic had multiple chapters sooo, woop woop! Hope you all enjoy :3

CW: f!reader, dragon Price, violence in future chapters

Word Count: 3028

Walking into the town, your eyes curiously looked around, an excitement blooming inside you – one you always found yourself in any time you got to a new part of the land, finding cities and villages you never knew existed.

This time, you’d made it to a village just south of the roaring mountains. A range that spanned the border of the land near the east. It was a relatively small village, and as you walked through to the marketplace, you immediately became aware of how close-knit the community was, as everyone seemed to know everyone.

Making you stick out like a sore thumb.

Still, your travels hadn’t gotten you this far if that was something that scared you off. And without further thought, you stepped up to one of the market brokers. The man was a botanist, obviously, selling herbs and wildflowers, your keen eyes curiously scanning around.

“Hello, madam!” The vendor perked up, giving you a once over, noting the large bag slung over your shoulder, as well as the leather-wrapped stick you were leaning on. “New to town?”

“Good morning.” You smiled politely. “Yes I am. It’s very nice.” You said, though as you looked around, it was evident that a scuffle had recently taken place. Broken wood and scorch marks riddling the buildings around.

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked, that typical salesman smile on his face.

Giving a small smile back, you shook your head. “No, I’m just looking for now.” You declined.

As you perused, you recognised most of the man’s wares. Within your own bag that was currently slung over your shoulder, you kept several exact specimens like the ones laid out before you.

After all, you’d been collecting them.

For the last three years, you’d been scouring the land, finding and testing herbs and wildflowers for their potencies and effects. What was once a hobby had become your life, with you abandoning your old one in the process. Yet not a day passed where you regretted your newfound freedom.

“Say, you seem very knowledgeable in this.” The vendor suddenly spoke up and you glanced at him, tilting your head in curiosity. Seeing that, the man explained. “Your eyes zero in on the rarer plants and skip over the common ones. Not many know them like I do.” He complimented.

“Oh, yes.” You smile. “I’m… well, a researcher. I’m writing a field guide on the plants of this continent and their effects.” You said, slight pride in your voice. Though it wasn’t a secret per se, saying it out loud was not something you often did. But giving the man’s profession, you figured it was worth a shot. “I’m looking for some rarer plants and I must ask, what is this one?” You questioned, pointing at a flower to the right. It had white, pointed petals that slowly turned blue the closer it got to the core, yellow spore marking the centre while the stem and leaves itself were green. Nothing like you’d ever seen before.

“That? Oh, that is a mountainscale lily.” He smiled, picking up the dried specimen. “Very rare. Found only in caves high up in the mountains.” As he said that, he turned and pointed to the looming mountain behind the village.

“I’ve never seen them before.” You mused, leaning in to get a better look.

“They’re native to this region. Only grow under very specific circumstances.” He explained and you nodded, curious.

“Is this in a place I could reach?” You questioned, making the vendor frown.

“I would not advise-“ “Ah! Hold on!” A woman suddenly interrupted, sliding in beside the merchant, her hand on his arm. The man looked a little startled, glancing at her in confusion, to which the woman nudged her head in your direction with an easy smile. “Look at the lady, she’s well equipped! Don’t be underestimating her now.” She teased, bumping her hip into his before squeezing his arm to get his attention and sending him a pointed stare, one you felt you shouldn’t be witnessing. At it, the man glanced from her to you – who was standing there confused – before grunting as he looked away from you, muttering under his breath.

Confused, you turned to the woman who turned to face you while smiling wide.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“That’s… okay.” You hummed, shifting your hiking stick to your other hand, a little put off by her sudden appearance. “So, am I correct in saying you think I could get to where the flowers grow?” You questioned, the woman seeming to light up.

“I am positive! In fact, I would like to ask to make a deal with you. Hire you, if you will.”

That was both intriguing and concerning at the same time. Anyone could take one glance at you and see you weren’t exactly a mercenary for hire.

“Darla, no-“ The man started, placing his hand on her shoulder, but the woman just shrugged it off.

“Hush now, I’m sure it will be no problem.” She smiled, keeping her eyes on you, to which the man grabbed her elbow, forcefully turning her to face him.

“Don’t. This is our problem. We must bear the consequences.” He said pointedly, but Darla scoffed and yanked her arm free.

“We have a perfectly capable young woman here.” She spoke, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” You asked, confused and before the man could say anything, Darla stepped in.

“These flowers. They have a healing capability. About a month ago, our village was raided and our supply stolen.” She spoke, a resentment sounding in her voice. “It was supposed to last us through the winter but now new flowers need to be plucked. The problem is that gathering them requires skill and knowledge. No one but my husband can do it, but he injured his leg during the raid and hasn’t been able to make the trip.” She said while gesturing to him.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear.” You frowned in sympathy, looking at the vendor who had a defeated look, sitting down on his stool behind his stall. When looking around at the village, the evidence of a scuffle was clear. And not a small one. Not only were there the ruins and scorch marks around you, some houses were even burned down on the outskirts – which you’d seen when coming into town.

“Listen.” The man spoke up, catching your attention again. “The mountains aren’t easy to traverse, especially with an injury. It’s not a safe road. Think about this.” He warned, looking at his plants, avoiding your eyes.

Your brows creased together in thought as you then looked at the woman. “So… what is it you want?”

Darla perked up, her eyes landing on you before turning pleading as she walked around the stall, grasping your hands and holding them up between you and her. “We will tell you how to find the flowers. And in return, I beg you to retrieve a satchel full of them for our village. We cannot survive winter without them.”

Blinking in surprise, you looked from her, down to the pressed flower laying on the wood of the stall. You’d never heard of a flower which had capabilities such as that.

“I-“ You glanced up at her again. Her hand was holding yours tightly.

“You can take this one for free.” She then quickly spoke, grabbing the pressed flower and pushing it into your hand.

Frowning, you looked down at it, briefly studying the colours and make before sighing, looking at the vendor again, who was still looking down. While the thought of a flower having such potent capabilities was hard to believe - not without it having some sort of addicting feature – the opportunity to study it was too good to pass up. “Okay.”

At your simple word, Darla lit up, grinning wide, though it was almost scary as she then turned to her husband and hugged him. “We’re going to be alright!” Before you could say anything, she moved back over to you, gripping your shoulders. “You will save every young maiden in our village from a terrible and ill fate.”

Letting out a bit of a confused chuckle, you leaned back a bit. “Why, does the flower not affect men?”

At that, Darla cackled a laugh – a surprisingly pleasant sound.

“Come, let me give you a map and explain how to get there.” She smiled, placing her hand on your backpack, gently pushing you with her, leading you across the market.

And in the haste of her offering you a place to stay at her impressively lavish two-story house, food, a map into the mountains and all the instructions that came with it, you failed to realise that the herbal vendor never came to the house, nor that neither him or Darla wore wedding rings.

- - - -

Leaning on your stick, you paused at the edge of the trail, huffing and puffing.

Since the early hours of dawn you’d been walking, resting periodically to make sure you’d be fit to continue.

According to Darla, the hike to the nearest cave containing the wildflowers was ten hours – on top of the hour you’d already travelled by horse together with the woman.

She had been incredibly helpful, sticking close to you and repeatedly thanking you for being willing to do this. Hell, it almost felt like she was glued to your hip until the moment you reached the foot of the mountain, where she was all too eager to send you off on your way, taking the horses back home.

Not that you blamed her.

Walking over to the rocky face of the mountain, you leaned against it, staying away from the trail’s edge, not to keen to fall down it. Shifting down to sit, you pulled your backpack off your back, digging in to get your journal where you flicked to the most recent entry.

Opening the page, you carefully picked up the pressed mountainscale lily, turning it in your hand. Before parting ways with Darla, you’d asked her many questions about the flower’s properties. She’d seemed a little flustered, almost unwilling to talk about it.

Glancing down at your notes, you pulled out the charcoal pencil from the spine of your journal, drawing a line down from the drawing you made of the flower.

Hunching forward, you scribbled a single word before a loud thud suddenly echoed through the forest down below, making you snap your head up, looking over the sea of orange-leafed trees before you. Far in the distance, birds rose to the air, making you hum curiously.

Glancing back down at the journal, you placed the flower back between the pages before closing the book, getting back to your feet again, ready to pass the next few hours mulling over your new hypothesis, that one word echoing in your mind.

‘Addictive?’

- - - -

Pulling your coat tightly around yourself, you shivered, tying the strings directly under your chin. Even with the sun shining fully in the sky, the air was frigid – a cause of both the height you were walking at, as well as the nearing of winter.

You’d long since pulled out your woollen hat, keeping yourself as warm as possible, your hands feeling like ice.

Holding your map tight, your eyes glanced from the parchment and up the trail you were currently on. It was small, a goat’s path more than anything and one misstep would result in you plummeting down onto rocks far below.

Yet as you looked right, you couldn’t help but be in absolute awe by the view.

As far as your eyes could see, the forest stretched. Along the way, a wide river shimmered in the slowly setting sun, everything bathed in a gorgeous light, enhancing the golden leaves of the autumn trees. If you weren’t at threat of losing the light, you’d have sat down to draw it.

Looking back at the map, you breathed out, exhausted. Your feet hurt, every step making you question whether or not this was worth all the hassle. Yet as you grasped onto the brittle rock on your left and rounded the bend, you saw it.

A large opening sat in the side of the mountain, a plateau in front of it providing plenty of space. The cave opening alone must have been the size of nearly two houses beside each other.

And about ten meters in front of you, you saw it.

A mountainscale lily gently flowed back and forth in the breeze, the petals gently moving.

Firmly pushing off your stick, you began walking towards it, crouching beside the flower.

It was small, incomplete and evidently not growing in ideal circumstances, too exposed to the wind.

Leaving it where it was, you kept going. The cave sat about thirty meters ahead and your heart began thudding in excitement.

Every herb and wildflower you’d documented so far was one you either already knew, or had vaguely heard of. All of them were known, most likely researched, used in experiments until every purpose was exploited. But this one? You’d never heard of a flower like this. And the thought of you being the first to properly document it? It filled you with an eager excitement.

Reaching the cave, instantly you saw the lily’s on the edges of the opening, blooming in the dirt-like ground that littered the plateau you were standing on, the forest behind you and far below.

Taking off your backpack, you moved over the left, crouching by a cluster of the flowers. Digging into your pack, you pulled out your journal and knife, carefully starting to prod at and study the flower, carelessly scribbling anything of note down.

Your mind was only focused on a single thing, yet as you inspected the flower, you noted that even in its alive state, the colours were less bright than the pressed flower the vendor had given you. Even these flowers weren’t sufficiently growing.

“Is it the cave?” You mumbled to yourself, setting your items down and getting to your feet.

Slowly, you started to walk in through the massive opening, your body casting a tiny shadow in the large circle of light.

For a minute or so, you moved. Yet the further you went, the more you walked, a dread slowly started to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Something felt off.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling, ominous and casting shadows onto the top of the cavern.

The light from the entrance was pale, limited. And as you walked forward, you slowly got to the cap of it. Daylight reached into the cave in almost a halo. A safe circle of pale light, ending where you stood now, right at your feet.

Normally, you didn’t feel like this. Normally, you’d step into the shaded part of a cavern without trouble but in this moment? You couldn’t.

There was something about this place that wasn’t right. Unnatural.

…Warm.

The cave was warm.

It was subtle, not immediately noticeable until you focused on it, but still your eyes widened in realisation of that fact. Despite climbing high up, damn near into the mountains to get here. There was no frigid cold. The difference from the moderately chilly air outside and in here was noticeable. And it definitely didn’t come from the watery sun outside.

A breeze suddenly picked up, a gust of wind so fast you had to snap your hand up to hold onto your hat, your eyes closing on instinct as your clothes billowed and ruffled.

Clutching the strap of your bag with one hand and your hat with the other, you dared to peek an eye open. Yet as you did, your heart sunk, watching as the sun that had been shining on your back was blocked, a shadow sliding in and covering your body.

The gust of wind passed, your heartbeat thudding harshly in your chest as you could hear every breath you took, your eyes wide as you stared at the unnatural shadow currently cast over you. A shadow that shouldn’t be there. A shadow that wasn’t a second ago.

Slowly, as if a thousand weights hung on you, you turned your head around. And the clench of your jaw slackened as a terror fell over you.

Sitting there, sprawled across the opening of the cave, hung a dragon.

With scales a deep green, its eyes were fixed on you, unblinking while it sat. Hanging on the rock, its massive form blocked out the sunlight, small slivers only escaping near the corners of the scaly creature, the light almost casting it in a halo. Or hellfire.

You’d never seen a dragon before, only heard stories of knights or travellers, regaling the terror and power they could wreak.

You didn’t dare blink or move, just stuck in a staring contest until for the first time, it made a noise as a billow of smoke escaped its maw, a rumble echoing through the cave as it shifted, muscle rippling and scales glistening in the light.

With a deliberate and slow movement, it flexed the joints of its wings, stretching them slightly and blocking out even that last bit of sunlight that was on your body, fully encasing you in its mighty shadow.

With barely anything else to do, you turned your body around to face it like your head was, and as if on cue, that made it move.

Slinking down from the large cave entrance, the dragon landed on the rocky ground, front paws thudding down before the rest of the body followed, moving towards you.

Terrified, you stumbled back, wanting to run, though your heel hooked behind the uneven ground of the cave, making you fall onto your back harshly.

With the wind knocked out of you, you’d barely opened your eyes before you found the dragon’s maw hanging right above you, an amusement dancing in the crinkle of its eyes.

“Please-“ You whispered, only for the dragon to not hear as it instead spoke.

“Finally made the decision to show up, did we? You’re four hours late.”

I’ll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can! Please let me know what you thought and if there is interest for a tag list for future chappies ❤️

#john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader #john price #cod x reader #dragon john price

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stinkyme · 9 months

Text

Hello! This is what I mentioned in my poll, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)

This is slightly different, I wanted to sort of..compromise with genders. Because I feel like experience itself would be different with somebody who identifies as a man versus someone who identifies as a woman, therefore I made sections :)

Also, I wanted to keep it gn! for folks who don't identify as a woman or a man so your part is less sexually explicit :)

Overall, the same things apply to everybody, but I think with people who are men it would hold different intimacy due to the "sinful" aspect of homosexuality whereas women are usually blamed for being sexual at all without bearing a child, etc. :)

CW/TW: NSFW, m/fem/gn!reader (separated), religious setting with sexual acts, priest!Fyodor, body worship, cock worship, praise, mentions of blood kink and knife play, mentions of self pleasure, oral!Fyodor receiving, marking, mentions of psychological and homoerotic (with m!reader) aspects, and if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

I hope it won't be confusing :") Everything is separated and explained accordingly :)

Priest Fyodor || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

Overall headcanons & scenario (applicable to everyone, gn!reader) :

Whether it's just for the sake of a sexual roleplay or Fyodor actually being a priest - Priest!Fyodor adores this idea. Being lustful and sinful in a church with you brings him immense sense of pleasure...therefore - he would probably be the one to bring it up first.

He would make the first step, assuming that the two of you have known each other for a while and that there was a certain intensity between you.

He can sense it for a while now - how your gaze burns under his silky, black robe, practically feeling it on his skin. How your gaze lowers when you speak to him so politely and so nicely, as if you are not having all sorts of unholy thoughts inside your head. How you trail over the cross around his neck, as if it holds no meaning or weight when compared to your own desires.

Watching his fingers slide over the Bible he holds, only to imagine what those fingers could do to you. The way you look at him makes him, just for a moment, forget about God or a place he is supposed to preach as pure and holy.

At that very moment, when your gaze trails over his clothed body, he can sense that you wish to know what his skin feels like. What he feels like when he is not the voice of a good Christian. Who he really is, under all of those easily removable layers of false christianity; who he is in his primal.., animalistic core even.

He will return your gaze just as lustfully, making your desire to cross over an invisible boundary even higher. Just for one second. It feels forbidden and it feels wrong, but does that really mean anything to an average human who knows that it will feel so good? Who knows that it will feel wrong but who can even think about it when pleasure overwhelms you? Both of you knew it means nothing compared to what you desire. You were already "bad" christians, after all.

Finally, being alone with him for the first time. Church is awfully quiet, only filled with unspoken desires. Tension is heavy and your thoughts become heavier to bear. Fyodor feels the same way, but he also wants to test his own luck. Finally making a first move.

Divided by a wooden wall and little window, he will ask you to confess your sins. Or simply, let out anything that may lay heavy on your chest. As if it was that easy and simple.

You may start off with something irrelevant just to alter your actual "sin".

He doesn't have time for this. Or patience.

Good christian you will say.

"Tell me, Y/N, how do you see me?" he cuts you off and asks very calmly, his voice like honey. You take a look at him through a little window, his gaze is inviting and anything but one of a priest.

"As a good christian." you chuckle, trying to move the conversation to the actual issue here or, at last, to ease up the tension.

"I figured you would say that." he lets out a pitiful chuckle.

"Anything but that. Tell me, how do you see me?" he is persistent, his gaze and voice even more inviting now. Challenging. How far would you go for him?

"As a good man." you reply in a simple manner, trying to contain every other thought that is currently overflowing your mind.

His neck seems soft. So pale. Easy to mark and ruin.

Rest of his body is probably just like that.

If only he could voice all awfully dirty desires with that silky voice of his instead of preaching what keeps you apart from him.

If only he would use those fingers to run them over your bare skin instead of holding a book of nonsense.

"Is that so?" he chuckles.

"What if I told you I am anything but a good christian, yet alone a good man?" he asks, certain slyness glowing in his eyes. His own desires were breaking through. You could almost touch them. Almost.

"Why would you say that?" you ask, faking innocence as always. He stands up, leaving his part of the confessional while remaining silent. You get out of your part, observing him in slight confusion.

He locks the door of the church, slowly walking back to you. You know a choice awaits you.

Read this if you identify as a woman or are afab who is okay with mentions of female experience (for men and folks who want full gn!reader experience, scenarios go below this one) :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? You are a woman for the fuck sake. You will be dirty. Can you bear the sin of being a bad woman? Can you allow yourself to be intimate with him in a church? Can you allow yourself such a forbidden pleasure that was never yours to begin with? Why are you acting as if you had rights for selfish pleasure? Pleasure that holds no fruition of a child with a man with whom you have more lust than love? Why are you acting so arrogant as if you have any rights to pleasure? Why are you acting as if his name hasn't spilled each time your orgasm was at its peak? Hell knows.

Read this if you identify as a man or if you are amab who is okay with male + mlm experience :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? You are a man for the fuck sake. You will be dirty. Do you have what it takes to live with it? To be intimate with a man? Right here? In front of all those holy eyes? How far can you go? Is this a test? If you resist now, will you go to Heaven? What Heaven? Haven't you already sinned, just by having desires for him? Haven't you already sinned by thinking about him anytime your hand was filled with cum while his name slipped your lips? Hell knows.

Read this for the continuation of the main story + gn!reader experience :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? Did you really know any? Why are you acting as if you haven't already played into your desires when you were alone? Imagining him doing everything you did to yourself, is it not sinful already? Why are you acting like you are a good christian when every single saint already knows what you are scared to admit? Will God stop you now? Will church go down in flames just to stop you from sinning? Is that what would stop you? Hell knows.

"I think we both already know what this is about." he whispers, putting the keys on a random bench as he finally gets close to you. You swallow knowing your decision was already made.

"And frankly, I also think you know why I am a bad man..or rather, a bad christian. Same reason as you are." he whispers, his fingertips touching your cheeks for the very first time. You can feel a burning knot forming inside your tummy, a light gasp escaping your lips. He moves his fingertips over your lips, slowly dragging them down and watching your bottom lip follow. You are stuck in place, feeling as if you move you will ruin everything. Your heart is beating fast and your skin grows hotter as he moves his fingertips over your chin, moving them lower and finally touching your neck.

NSFW (gn!reader), mixture of scenario & headcanons:

"Keys are right there, if you wish to leave." he says in a soft, almost desperate tone as this is the very last thing he wants to happen. His fingers trail over your neck, his thumb separating from the rest of his fingers as he wraps them all around your throat, holding it gently. You are not blinking, your gaze is fixated on his face. His head is tilted and lips are parted; he looks blissful.

His index finger gently caresses the skin below your ear and you just notice how cold his hands are.

You finally move, bringing your own hand to his face, sliding your fingers over a face that you should never touch with such desires. Stepping closer to him, your other hand slides over his chest, barely feeling them over the robe.

You slide your hand down, so close to his cock.

One little movement and it's over. You can still take an offer to leave.

No.

You look at him hesitantly, but he takes your hand with his and moves it where both of you wish. You gasp in while he is incredibly calm. You can feel his hard cock on your fingertips, robe barely hiding the outline of it. He pulls you by your throat, his lips brushing over yours. Your eyes tear up from the intensity of your desire and feelings as you grasp his cock, making him gasp out. He squeezes your throat with equal pressure that you squeezed his cock with.

Everything is so slow, but so fast at the same time. You look into his eyes for the very last time, before gasping out and leaning your face even closer to him. Your lips are touching. You close your eyes and he follows, his lips capturing yours as his tongue slips inside your mouth, gently brushing over yours. You can feel a knot dissolving inside your tummy and spreading all over your body, making you needy for more. Fyodor starts breathing more heavily, a few snivels slipping out of his throat and getting muffled inside the kiss.

Quickly enough, your kiss grows more primal, your bodies grow more incoherent and only desire to get each other naked remains.

Priest!Fyodor wants everything as soon as you are naked in front of each other. He pushes you to the ground, making you kneel in front of him.

"Only God you need right now is me. Only one you need to satisfy now is me." he says in a sly and lickerish tone as he grabs your hair and pulls you towards his aching cock.

He wants you to worship him. To worship his cock like a good whore and a bad christian. You will kiss his balls, completely driven by pure desire. Licking the edge on the bottom side of his cock up to his tip. Kissing your way back - from the tip down to his balls. Putting the tip of his cock inside your mouth while kneeling on cold tiles of the church floor and twirling your tongue around it. All while he whimpers shamelessly and encourages you to go deeper.

You choke on his cock, completely oblivious to everything else. Moving your head back and forth while your tongue reaches all of his sensitive spots. He will praise you and only praise you need is his. He will tell you how good you are doing for him. How you are satisfying the one you are supposed to.

Priest!Fyodor wants you to worship his body too. To leave sinful kisses everywhere that your lips can reach. He wants to feel your tongue slide over every sensitive or less sensitive part of his skin. He wants you to make him feel as if he is the only one who exists for you in the moment. As if he is the only one who can make you feel the way he does. He wants to worship your body too. Kissing every part of it, learning what your body prefers and where you may be the most sensitive. He wishes to kiss every single spot until he learns them all. From your forehead and cheeks, over your neck and behind your ears, down to your collarbone and chest area, your stomach, waist, hip bones, thighs, calves, ankles - everything. He wishes to make up for every single time he wasn't able to appreciate you the way you both desired. He wants your and his body to be filled with invisible bites and kisses that will burn long afterwards. That will grow more desire for each other. More devotion.

Priest!Fyodor wants you to mark him. Mark his body like he belongs to you and only you. He is not selfish or a lunatic to actually believe he is the one who owns you. He desires mutual devotion. A devotion neither he or you could reach with God.

Whimpers escaping his lips and echoing the big church as your teeth slide his skin between them. Leaving red, purple or blue marks behind all over his body. His neck, his collarbones, his chest, his stomach - it's all yours. All yours to claim and devote to while he devotes to you by giving you his bare body. He wishes to mark your body too if he can. Even if no marks are left behind, he wants the feeling of it. To dig his teeth in your skin and listen to your voice breaking and asking for more of him. He wants to have this and every next moment with you engraved in his skin.

Which is why, Priest!Fyodor wants you to use the knife on him. Not in a violent way. He wants you to leave a few gentle cuts over his body and lick the small amount of blood that is sliding out of the slits you make. To suck on them while he chokes out your name, belonging to you only. He wants to do the same to you. Just make a few cuts so this moment lasts on your skin for a while after. He wants to lick small amount of your blood as well and kiss you afterwards, reaching almost complete devotion.

Priest!Fyodor wants to fuck you senseless in the sacred and holy place. A church throne. He wants you to bend over for him while your knees are on the chair so he can fuck you relentlessly. To the point where no noise can escape your tired throat anymore. For you to reach complete bliss with him, to reach orgasm after orgasm from his cock only. From him only. He wants to make up for each time you had to do it yourself. For each time he had to do it himself. So he will fuck you for as long as he can, completely ignoring how worn out his body is after few hours. He wants to hear his name slip past your lips while his skin slaps into yours each time he thrusts and reaches your sensitive spot.

He will let you have your own control over him soon enough. He promises. Just a little bit more, just a few more times. He can't get enough of you. The way your body shakes under him, the way you are so shameless with calling his name in such a place. The way your fingernails dig into the throne with no remorse or respect. He can't get enough of it. He will be more gentle next time, but now? He just needs to let it all out. All of his primal desires, frustrations, all of the times substitute for you was his "holy" hand. Everything. Priest!Fyodor is insatiable with you; you are his only devotion he wishes to pleasure and satisfy from now on.

The End :)

I hope this wasn't too confusing and that you enjoyed! :) <3

Feedback is appreciated, this is my first time doing this format so I hope I didn't disappoint :") <3

Thank you so much for all love and support! :)

P.S. sub!Jouno soon :3

#fyodor dostoevsky x reader smut #fyodor x reader smut #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #bsd scenarions #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #fyodor dostoevsky smut #bsd fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor bsd smut #bsd fyodor smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader smut

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asurix · 3 months

Text

'' Valentine's day''

Genre: NFSW/SMUT, Dazai x reader, dom!dazai, sub!reader,afab!

content warning: Oral sex,vag!nal sex, sadistic,whimpering,praising,degrading and swearing ( i think thats all lol)

Ok so... i made a new poll and dazai won....again- i mean hes hot but twice is foul i thought chuuya was going to win or fyodor... OR Tachihara??? but i guess my charming suicidal guy won...

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 DAZAI

Dazai was you're boyfriend, he wasn't all tho like typical boyfriends... he was way more different... A normal boyfriend would cuddle you and care for you, but Dazai? all he could do was fuck you're pussy until you're cunt remembered EVERY vein from dazai's cock, you weren't complaining, but come on? the least thing he could do was show a bit of romantical feelings... right?

You and Dazai were at home, you wanted to test out Dazai's feelings for you, lucky for you it was valentine's day, you approached Dazai looking a bit suspicous in his eyes, ''something wrong?'' he asked raising a eyebrow, his attention leaving his phone but instead to you,

'' do you know what day it is? Dazai?'' you asked curiously, ''14 februari, why?'' he answered you're question, you couldn't belivie this guy he really forgot valentine's day? what a jerk! you groaned walking away from him irritated, ''whats wrong bella? why so mad!'' he yelled from across the living room, the voice echoing to the kitchen, making you more irritated, ''just dont talk to me'' you rolled you're eyes, ''why not?'' you heard him exactly behinde you, wasn't he just in the living room what the hell?, you got startled by his sudden presence, ''n-nothing you just forgot a special day'' you're expression turning from irritated to sadness,

Dazai tilting his head, confused still not understanding what you were trying to say, ''huh?'' he said confused, ''are you serious its fucking valentine's day and you couldn't bother to remember a simpe day to appreciate you're lover?, n-no not even lover!? just you're booty call!'' you yelled at him, ''valentine's day? already-'' just by hearing that you got so ticked off you stormed out of the room angrily, you sat down on the bed, grabbing the pillow from you're side, then shoving it in you're face, groaning in it, such a pain! you thought to yourself, 6 hours has gone and you hadn't even realised you went to sleep, not until you checked the time to see its 8 pm, god i slept for 6 straight hours? you thought to yourself, before you could get out of bed you heard keys opening the front door,

he went out? you thought again to yourself, you walked over to the front door to greet Dazai completely forgetting what happened 6 hours ago, ''where did you go?'' you said curious, ''i went out to get you're valentines present's'' he said smiling before taking off his shoes and coat giving you a kiss on the forehead before setting the stuff he bought on the kitchen counter,

''valentines gift's?'' you asked confused, thats before you remembered everything that happened ''o-oh yeah...about that im not really mad anymore s-so you're fine i guess...'' you said scratching the back of you're head, ''well i wanted to get my girlfriend some stuff for valentines day because my bella donna deserve's the world'' he said smiling warmly, ''well im glad im you dont see me as you're booty call Dazai'' you said smiling back ''i never saw you as my booty call Y/N'' he said, his face turning serious, ''ive always seen you as my lover, my only one, my stress relivier and my everything'' he said turning his back to you, unpacking all the stuff he bought for you, ''i got you this lingerine donna, it would look really nice on you while you ride me'' he said grinning, you couldn't help but laugh, ''you're such a idiot

Dazai'' you said laughing, ''im serious, yesterday you didn't leave the house, and today you didn't leave the house either so am assuming...no i know you didn't get me anything for valentine's day'' he said his grin widening, ''but its okay, you can cover up a apology with just you bouncing on me today for valentine's day, thats all i want'' he said smiling, 'well you're not wrong i didn't get you anything for valentine's day, so i dont have a choice to ride you'' you said ironiclly,

-after you opened all the gifts with Dazai-

''There bella i got you all these stuff, now all i want as my gift is you're body'' he said grinning, before you could say anything, he picked you up bridal style taking you to the bedroom, he threw you on the bed, you sat up, Dazai standing infront of you while you're sitting on the bed, ''my, what do you have in plan?'' you asked him, ''i have a lot for you, say this is you're punishment for not getting me anything for valentine's day, i get to be rough how ever i want got it?'' he titled his head waiting for you're respons

'' do whatever you please, love'' you said smiling, he unbuckled his pants, his hard cock flinging out of his boxers, he lined up his cock to the entrance of you're mouth, ''open wide, donna~'' he said smiling wickedly, he pushed his tip inside you're mouth, making you gag a little bit, you started licking his tip, massaging his balls, Dazai couldn't help but moan, ''f-fuck... i might c-cum if you continue like this, and i dont want be done bella~ he said chuckling, he grabbed you're waist then threw you on the bed, he postioned his cock to the entrance of you're soaked cunt, he slammed inside you causing you to whimper, ''d-dazai...'' you choked out, ''n-not to deep please'' you whined out, ''i said i was going to be rough bella, just take it like that bitch you are, alright?'' he said before slamming inside you again hitting you're sweet spot mutliple times.''i know you like it there bella'' he laughed, ''s-shut up..'' you cried out, Dazai contiuned violating you're cunt hitting you're G-spot again and again this assault continued for minutes until Dazai finally couldn't handle you're pussy clenching around his cock, making his cock twitch inside you, he finally gave in and came. ''f-fuck...bella youre clenching my cock so h-hard...'' Dazai groaned, you couldn't respond due to the overstimulations getting the best of you, you pasted out without you, yourself knowing it, you woke up to hot tea on you're nightstand, and heart shaped chocolate and a bouqette of flowers with a note on it, ''ill be back donna for our dinner, just going to pick some groceries love you x- samu'' this idiot, you chuckled to yourself, you drank you're hot tea and ate you valentine's chocolate, before going back to sleep, waiting to see what Dazai has planned out for you.

#bungo stray dogs #smut bsd #dazai x fem!reader #dazai bsd #dazai smut #fanfic #smut #bsd #bsd smut #fem!reader #boyfriend dazai x reader #valentines day #౨ৎ — archive

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jexnkookie · 2 months

Text

BTS: In the Secret (Idol! Jungkook x Reader) [Chapter 4]

Summary: Big Hit announces a new season of In the Soop with a twist; one lucky Army is going to join the members for an entire summer of filming, picked by a random poll. You were selected, and ready to have an amazing summer. But what happens when you win something else that's a bit more complicated; the heart of the group's maknae?

Rating: M (18+)

Chapter Warnings: None.

Tag List: @cassies-cookies @hoeinthehouse @jjeonjjk7 @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @leetha43 @rrosiitas @whoa-jo @1-in-abillion

The rain tapped gently on the glass of the windows while Jungkook helped you position the large, chunky throw blanket you had brought so that you both could be under it. The room was dim, only lit up by the glow of the television and a lamp in the corner of the room. Your pale pink blanket was draped over Jungkook and yourself while you sat on the couch together, staring at the image of Robert Downey Jr. on the screen.

There were so many things Jungkook wanted to do in this moment. He wanted to talk to you, to ask you if you had really slept in his sweatshirt all night just like he hoped. He wanted to touch your hand, which increasingly felt as though it had a magnetic pull, enticing his fingers to come closer and intertwine with yours underneath the cover of the blanket. He wanted to pull you in close to him every time he saw your eyelids start to become heavy, and encourage you to lay your head on him and rest. He wanted to know why you were so tired, and if, just maybe, you had stayed up all night thinking about him, too. Just the way he had thought about you.

Forever an idealist romantic, but too nervous to do anything he fantasized about in his head, he settled for the peacefulness he felt. The rain outside. The blasts of the action movie on the screen. And your presence right next to him, that seemed to drown out all of it.

“Hey, Jungkook?” You whispered.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to fall asleep, because I really want to hang out with you.” You confessed, looking up at him. “But for some reason, I couldn’t sleep last night… So if I do fall asleep accidentally, I’m really sorry.”

The smile he wore was warm and gentle, showcasing his dimples and beautiful eyes.

“It’s ok.” He whispered back. “I won’t be mad.”

“Ok.” You smiled back. Jungkook could get lost in that smile, and he hoped to see it as often as he could.

“Hey, Y/N?” He whispered, playfully mimicking you.

“Hm?”

“Who’s your favorite Marvel superhero?” He asked quietly, and you couldn’t help but grin bigger at his boyish charms.

“Maybe… Iron Man?” You thought out loud. “He always makes me laugh. What about you?”

“Black Widow, because she’s hot.” He teased, earning an exasperated eye roll.

“Shut up, you’re such a guy.” You laughed, playfully ‘slapping’ his toned arm. “But, fine. If we’re going off of that, then my pick is Captain America.”

“Really? He’s your pick?” Jungkook tsked, overtones of a pout lacing his voice.

“He has America’s ass, Kookie. C’mon.” You joked. “Be serious.”

You noticed a change in Jungkook’s features, as though they were somehow able to soften even more than usual. His eyes became even more light, gazing at you gently. His pink lips were still upturned in a smile, and his dimples ever present.

“I like it when you call me that.” He admitted.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You lightly flirted, just barely testing the waters, earning a grin in return. You both gazed into each other’s eyes, and you wondered if he could hear the loud way your heart was beating. He was beautiful, in every way. Obviously attractive, but beautiful in his silliness. Beautiful in the gentle way he spoke and looked at you. You wanted to lean in, to touch his lips to yours. The way his eyes flicked down to your lips, as well, hinted that maybe, possibly, he wanted the same...

...But suddenly, his phone buzzed, breaking the moment and bringing you both down to Earth. He sighed and mumbled a quick apology, glancing at the text on his phone.

“It’s one of the staff members. They sent a warning about flooding.”

“Flooding? Are we in a flood zone?” You asked.

“Not sure.” Jungkook played with his lip ring. “They said there’s a lake nearby and sometimes when it rains, it’s overflows. They just wanted to give us a heads up.”

“Oh, ok.” You said before letting out a yawn. Jungkook looked up from his phone and saw your tired state as you went back to watching the movie in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

This attempt failed, and rather quickly. Jungkook noticed you had fallen asleep, just like you didn’t want to do. But he just didn’t have the heart to wake you, especially when you moved in your sleep to rest your head on his shoulder, as though instinctively seeking him out. He refused to move, unable to stop the silly, schoolboy grin on his face while you rested on him. His heart was beating so loud, he was almost surprised it didn’t wake you.

“Oh, Jungkookie.” A whispered, teasing voice giggled, cutting through the quiet room. Jungkook turned his head to see Hobi, smiling widely at the sight. “Is she asleep?”

“Yeah.” He whispered back, blushing at being caught. “She just… kinda landed on me? I…I don’t mind though, y’know? Just don’t wanna wake her. s’all”

Hoseok nodded, looking at the maknae knowingly but choosing not to put him on the spot. Jungkook will be honest the members in his own time, pushing him too much might cause him to run away from them and distance himself from you. He needed to let Jungkook get to know you first, and then encourage him to get closer. But, as it seems, the youngest member is doing quite well at getting closer to you all on his own.

He then left the room, giving the two of you privacy, which Jungkook internally thanked him for. Fixing himself food in the kitchen, he was briefly interrupted by Taehyung and Jimin who came in for their own lunch. Hobi held a finger to his lips, alerting them to stay quiet, before motioning them into the kitchen.

“Don’t go into the living room.” He whispered to them, knowing Jungkook can’t hear their conversation over the loud action movie. “Jungkook is in there with Y/N, and I’m giving them privacy.”

“Privacy?” Jimin smiled suggestively, earning a look from Hoseok. “What’s happening in there?”

“He’s not ready to admit it yet, because he still hasn’t said anything to her but… Jungkookie has feelings for Y/N.” Hoseok explained, leaning in to make sure Jungkook couldn’t hear him. “Don’t say anything to him, let’s just let him work things out, ok?”

“Ok.” Jimin giggled. “Aish, he’s so cute. Even after all this time, a girl can get him worked up like this.”

Taehyung stood silent while the other two cooed over Jungkook’s behavior. He thought back to Jungkook sitting there, watching as you leaned over to kiss him, and he felt awful. Taehyung wouldn’t do anything to purposefully hurt Jungkook, who was like a little brother to him. He had never even really felt anything for you, he only was carried away in the moment when you had kissed him. He knew you felt the same about him, when you rejected him at the door of your bedroom. Taehyung hated to think that maybe Jungkook heard any of that conversation that night, and he wondered how he would apologize to him for it once Jungkook was ready to talk about you to the other members.

Just then, a pair of heavy footsteps came into the kitchen, silencing all of the members. Jungkook, unaware that they were in the room, had a still sleeping you in his arms, covered by your soft, pink blanket. His eyes widened, resembling a deer caught in headlights at being discovered, yet again, in a soft moment with you.

“She, uh…” He stuttered, looking at the older members. “Her neck would hurt, sleeping on the couch like that too long. So I.. I thought… I’d just bring her back to her room…”

“Good idea.” Hobi smiled warmly, not wanting to put too much attention on him. Jungkook scurried out of the house and held you close, going as quickly as he could to limit your time in the rain.

“Oh my God, he’s in deep already.” Jimin giggled teasingly. Hoseok only responded with a grin while he shook his head.

Next Chapter: x

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #in the soop #bts in the soop #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fic #jungkook fics #jungkook imagine #jungkook is whipped #bts: in the secret #idol!jungkook #reader insert #fem reader

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hesoprettyithurts · 7 months

Note

I need a headcanons for quackity and wilbur with a pregnant reader for yesturday!! Its a request from brazil <3

I’m on the case!🫶

there not exactly headcanons but there little short stories yk? Sorry if its not what you wanted

🇧🇷 =🥵

Quackity:

Telling him you were pregnant was difficult, mostly because you were afraid he didn’t want the child and that he would leave.

you grabbed the pregnancy test and waited for his stream to end. How were you going to say it?

finally you heard the annual “BYEEEEE” and you waited till you got the text saying he finished. You walked out slowly with the test in your pocket.

“Hey, guess wh- are you okay? You look sick. What’s wrong?” He got up to comfort you but you took his shoulders and moved to sit him on the bed.

“look,” you spoke “I have something very important to tell you”

“yeah what’s up?”

“I’m pregnant”

his face dropped oh this was not the reaction you wanted

millions of thoughts paced through your mind “was he going to leave” “oh no”

“you're being serious?”

“Yes” you say as you pull out the test handing it to him.

he reads it very carefully till getting up and RUNNING OUT THE DOOR 🏃‍♀️

nah but he got up and hugged you immediately causing you to sit down with him.

“I’m gonna be a dilf?”

You laugh with relief as you say “mhm”

“you don’t know how fucking excited I am!”

he jumps up and spins you around

(I’ll write a different reveal and the telling parents, gender reveal, baby clothes shopping, and journey IF the poll wins)

Wilbur:

Wilbur and you have always talked about having a baby but when you found out that you were pregnant you were shocked. “Was he even ready?” Was the most recurrent thought that kept racing left and right through your brain .

It was time, you thought, time to tell him that I’m going to have his baby.

My palms were sweaty as I waited for him to get home, then all of a sudden a jingle of keys could be heard and I panicked.

eventually the door swung open and there he was, beautiful, lanky, just woah is he gorgeous.

He immediately knew that something was off by the way that your leg was bouncing up and down.

“hey what’s wrong?”

“we need to talk.”

oh if only you knew how much effect those words had on him. He was quite frankly shaking. He went and sat down next to you, anxiously waiting.

“I’m pregnant” you said out of the blue

he froze, not the reaction you wanted, tears were forming in your ruses when he said “woah what the fuck I’m gonna have a child!” He began smiling and he leant down on his knees to kiss your belly 💋 “my child’s in there, hi baby, hi!”

“Wilbur it’s the size of a bean”

“shh that’s OUR baby”

sorry for the long wait I got busy with school

but I hope you enjoyed ✌️

#quackity scenarios #quackity headcannons #quackity x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot scenarios #wilbur soot x reader

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marvelsdc22 · 7 months

Text

What's A Soulmate?

Intro: Here it is, the winner of the poll, I hope to have the other one posted in the next few weeks, enjoy~

Summary: Your first year at Abbott is more chaotic than you expected, the unexpected subject of soulmates gets brought up, life is black and white until you've met and start to fall for your soulmate.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Small bout of violence, heated argument, let me know if I missed anything.

Walking into Abbott Elementary for the first time after being hired as the new librarian was a lot more chaotic than you had initially thought it would be, there were several OSHA violations you could already see, it smelled like something had died, there was a camera crew following around a tall woman with long hair that was black on top that went into an ombre of white that you assumed was actually blonde or at least a light brown, not like you knew what those colors actually looked like, you had yet to fall in love with someone that was your soulmate, so you were stuck seeing the world in black and white.

Soulmates were dumb in your opinion, why couldn’t the universe let you test the waters with different loves instead of just picking one true love without your permission, you could be stuck with a clown for all you knew! Nothing against them, but their antics would get old real fast.

Heading into the door on your left, you saw the woman you saw a moment ago deeply engrossed with her phone, knocking on the doorframe to get her attention “Can I help you?” She asked, looking you up and down “Yeah, I’m the new librarian, I’m looking for Miss Coleman?” You said, watching as a smile lit up her face and she started looking at you with newfound interest.

“Well, don’t you look scrumptious” she said, smiling at you and standing from her seat “Ava Coleman, the one you’re looking for” she winked, shaking your hand when you took the one she offered “Let me show you around, get you settled in” she said, leading you out of the room with your face burning from her flirting.

At the end of the tour, you arrived at the library “This is your territory, do whatever you want with it, if you need anything, ask someone else” Ava said before leaving, shutting the door behind her and leaving you to silence and the couple shelves of books that the school had, sighing, you set your stuff down behind the counter, making a mental note to get yourself a safe or small storage to keep your stuff safe and secure throughout the day before grabbing your tablet and going to take inventory of what all you had book wise so you knew where to start.

You don’t know how much time had passed before you heard the door open and two voices “I don’t think he’s the one, Barb, it’s been weeks and still no colors” one voice said “Just keep trying-Oh! Hello there!” The one you assumed was Barb said when you came out from behind the bookcase you had been behind, clutching the tablet to your chest as you looked at the two women, one looking a bit older with a bob haircut and a sweet smile, while the other had long hair with a look of annoyance on her face.

“You must be the new librarian, I’m Barbara” Barbara introduced, holding her hand out towards you “Oh, yes, I’m Y/N it’s nice to meet you” you smiled, shaking her offered hand then looking at the other woman and offering your hand to her, her not shaking it until Barbara nudged her side “Melissa” she said bluntly, shaking your hand unwillingly and shoving her hands into her pockets after.

Clearing your throat, you ran a hand through your hair as you thought of what to say, glancing down at your tablet “I noticed there wasn’t too many books to choose from, let me know if you guys have any suggestions so I can get some more” you said, offering them a small smile and catching Melissa’s eyes widening for a split second “That’s a wonderful idea, I’ll see what all my class wants and bring you the list later” Barbara smiled, watching as your smile widened “Awesome! I should get back to it, but it was lovely meeting you two” you said, offering a small wave before heading off towards the counter, leaving Melissa and Barbara to continue their conversation in hushed whispers.

XXXXX

Two weeks had passed since your first day, you had become fast friends with Jacob, the two of you having a lot of things in common, this in turn meaning you were close with Janine, she was nice but a little too peppy for your taste, Barbara was super sweet and you enjoyed your early morning talks in the breakroom, Gregory was nice but he had yet to come out of his shell with you, you had avoided Ava and her flirting at all cost, then there was Melissa, she was still kind of a mystery to you but you can’t help but be drawn to her, she came into the library during her kids recess “So I can have some peace and quiet” she had told you when you asked, although she mostly talked to you while you worked on your own tasks but you weren’t going to call her out.

Coming into school, you were trying to balance all your stuff along with two big boxes in your arms “Do you need help?” A teasing voice asked, causing you to jump slightly “It would be appreciated” you conceded, feeling one of the boxes being taken and Melissa’s face appearing in front of you with a small smile “Jeez hon, what’s in these?” She asked, heading inside when you managed to open the school’s front door “You remember when I had you guys make a list?” You asked, fumbling with your keys for a moment before managing to unlock and push the door to the library open.

“You’re kidding” Melissa said, astonished as she set the box she was carrying down on the counter and opening it, seeing it filled with books “Did Ava actually give you the money for this?” She asked, watching as you set the box you were carrying down, shaking your head “No, I did, the kids needed more reading material” you said, knowing that you got most for cheap at thrift stores, looking at Melissa when she stayed silent and seeing her staring at you like she was seeing you in a new light and you couldn’t help but see the world a little brighter after that.

XXXXX

As the weeks went by, you slowly started to see in more color, you knew Melissa was your soulmate, but you were too scared to do anything about it, maybe she was yours but you weren’t hers, you had heard of that happening before, it was extremely rare but maybe you were one of those rare cases? You didn’t want to find that out and embarrass yourself.

Opting instead to just ignore the fact it was happening, maybe you could save yourself the embarrassment and transfer schools- “Y/N! How are you doing, dear?” Barbara asked, leading her class behind her and pulling you out of your thoughts “Good morning, Mrs. Howard, I’m doing alright, are the kids here for new books?” You smiled, knowing that she brought her kids by once a week to return their books and get a new one, gesturing to the bookshelves that were now almost fully stocked thanks to everyone’s help after Melissa blabbed about what you had done for them and the kids.

“Mx. Y/L/N?” You heard a quiet voice ask, turning your attention to the small group of kindergarteners that had stayed behind “Yes Dante?” You asked the little boy that had gained your attention to them “What’s a soulmate?” Dante asked, catching you off guard since you weren’t expecting that deep of a question “Oh, well…” You said, trying to think of a way to explain it so a group of kindergarteners could understand.

“So, you all know how right now you can only see in black and white?” You asked after a beat of silence, watching them all nod “Well, when you start to fall in love with your soulmate, your world starts to slowly fill with color then one day everything is bright and colorful” you explained, watching as they discussed amongst each other before another kid, Sammy, spoke up “Have you found your soulmate yet, Mx. Y/L/N?”

Damn these kids were hitting you with all the big questions and all before you’ve had more than a sip of your quickly cooling coffee, glancing over when you heard the door open and unable to help the smile that appeared on your face as Melissa walked in, her engrossed in her phone until she felt your eyes on her, catching your eyes before you turned to the small group of kids “I think I just might’ve” you said, laughing when the kids either squealed or fake gagged, looking over at Melissa who was looking at you with a smile as you interacted with the kids, the redness of her hair starting to get lighter and thinking you caught a glimpse of her gorgeous blue eyes.

XXXXX

Later on that week, you were heading for the breakroom to get yourself another cup of nasty dirty bean water, man you really needed to get up earlier so you could make yourself at least one decent cup to get through the day, so lost in your thoughts that you almost missed the two voices coming from the breakroom.

“I just don’t know what to do, Barb, I think he’s going to propose to me” you heard Melissa say, feeling your heart start to sink at her words “Well, you said you were finally starting to see colors, do you think it’s because of him?” Barbara asked, shifting in her seat to look at Melissa better “I don’t know, maybe” she said, knowing it also started after she found out what you did for the kids “Well, do you love him?” Barbara asked sincerely, knowing she was trying to help, even though each word hurt “I mean yes, but”.

You stopped listening after that, feeling tears burning your vision and nausea start to build in your throat as you quickly turned on your heel and rushed back to the library, collapsing back against the boor after it shut behind you, barely thinking of locking it before the tears started to fall “Stupid, stupid, stupid… you knew you weren’t her soulmate and you still hoped” you muttered to yourself, harshly wiping your tears away as you tried to calm yourself down, even though your whole world was falling apart.

XXXXX

You had decided to take a few days off after that, needing some time to come to terms with everything, even going as far as silencing your phone so you wouldn’t get distracted by concerned coworkers and Melissa, who had been worried about you since the first day you had called off, which made you feel even guiltier, but you knew you had to distance yourself for a few days, you needed to come to terms with the fact that Gary was Melissa’s soulmate, she was going to be engaged to him soon and you needed to bury your feelings for the redhead… right?

When you returned, the redhead was immediately on you “Why weren’t you answering any of us?” She asked, following you as you went towards the library “Well, good morning to you too, Mel” you chuckled, glancing at her as you pulled your keys out of your bag “I just needed a few days to myself, but I’m fine now” it wasn’t a total lie, you were feeling better than you did a few days ago and you knew you were able to put on a good fake face.

The redhead stared you down for a long moment, seeming to debate on whether or not she believed you, deciding to not push the matter further “As long as you’re okay” she decided to say, reaching out and resting her hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks, giving her a small smile “I am, don’t worry” you assured, trying not to let her touching you affect you.

XXXXX

After that, a few weeks went by you heard arguing as you approached the breakroom for lunch, raising a brow when you saw Gregory awkwardly standing outside the breakroom, him usually being the first one to go in there “Melissa and Gary are getting into it, figured it was a good idea to wait out here” Gregory explained, him not being good when it came to arguments.

You stood there for a moment, opting to follow Gregory’s lead until you heard Melissa shouting at Gary to let go of her, that making you change your mind as you stormed into the room “You heard her, let her go, Gary” you said, staring him down when both turned at the sound of your voice.

“You’re the one that’s causing the argument, I highly suggest you stay out of business that isn’t your own” Gary said, releasing Melissa and getting in your face “It is my business when you lay a hand on my friend” you said through gritted teeth, smacking his hand away when he went to shove his finger against your chest, readying to strike back if needed when Melissa grabbed his arm to pull him back, seeing red when he shoved her harshly back, your body moving before you could stop yourself as you shoved him harshly back against the wall.

“If you touch her EVER again, I will have your head” you threatened, feeling gentle but firm hands pull you back, Gregory stepping in just in time to grab Gary and hold him back when he lunged at you “Alright, that’s enough” Gregory said, practically dragging Gary out of the room, your harsh glare on Gary as he was led out of the room until you felt the redhead tug on your arm, successfully pulling your attention to her, searching her up and down for injuries before you focused on her gorgeous blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” You both asked, the two of you letting out an awkward laugh when you realized you spoke at the same time “I’m fine, I just… I couldn’t stand how he was treating you just now and I couldn’t just sit back and-” stopping your rambling when you felt her hand on your cheek “Thank you… for stepping in when you did” she said softly, glancing at you hand when you rested it on top of hers that was on your cheek.

The two of you stared at one another for a long moment before you spoke up “I have something to admit, it’s going to sound stupid, but I have to say it” you said, pulling away from her and glancing at the door when you heard footsteps and chatter, you knew you wouldn’t get privacy here, nor would you have time to explain how you felt and how she was your soulmate even though you weren’t hers “Meet me in my classroom after school” she spoke up, knowing what you were thinking, smiling when you nodded, grabbing your lunchbox and escaping the room before you could make a bigger fool of yourself.

The time to tell Melissa your true feelings came sooner than you wanted it to as the final bell rang and your anxiety rose up to your throat, you more nervous than you cared to admit even though you knew how this would go, you’d spill your guts and she’d turn you down “Y/N?” You heard Melissa ask, pulling you from your thoughts “You said you had something to tell me” she stated, her expression neutral but inside her stomach was turning and her heart was pounding with nerves.

“Oh, yes” you said, clearing your throat and taking a deep breath before you let everything out, telling her how you were falling for her and how the more you did, the more colors you saw “I know Gary is your soulmate and I have no chance, but I had to tell you for my sake” you explained, finally taking a breath, starting to panic when you saw the shock on her face “Oh man, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t of said anything-” getting cut off when her lips crashed into yours.

You froze when she kissed you, unmoving until you felt her start pulling away, pulling her against you and responding to the kiss, once the need to breathe finally overpowered you, you pulled away but continued to hold her close, when you finally opened your eyes a rush of color filled your vision until you focused on her baby blues “Your eyes are beautiful” you murmured, earning a bright smile from the redhead “I see you, I truly see you” Melissa grinned, happy tears filling her eyes as she pulled you in for another heated kiss, now you could tell Dante that you in fact did have a soulmate and could give his group a tamer explanation of what it was like.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x gn!reader #melissa x reader #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti imagine #abbott elementary x reader #abbott elementary

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wolfjackle-creates · 3 months

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Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 2

Ghost!Robin won this week's poll as well! So have a little bit more of the fic for WIP Wednesday. *resolutely ignores the clock that informs me midnight was an hour ago so it is clearly Thursday*

Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what I post next.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

Jason did not sleep that night, spending his time beating up a punching bag instead. What sleep he did get was laid out on the mats in the workout room. Even that was plagued by nightmares.

So it was with The Joker’s laughs still echoing in his ears that he finally dragged himself to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

Danny was no where to be seen—probably sleeping—but the ghost was. He was staring out the window not doing anything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” grumbled Jason.

The ghost did the head motion every Robin learned to indicate they were rolling their eyes. Can’t he signed.

Jason grunted. He…probably should have figured that one out. “Well go read a book or something and don’t bother me.”

The ghost gave him a very deliberate look before flying to one of the bookcases and reaching for a book. Only for his hand to go right through it. He glared back at Jason.

“Oh.” Jason did not feel bad for the creature. He was the interloper here. But the silence in the room was not helping anything. Not with his nightmares so close to the surface. He hooked his phone up to a portable speaker and pulled up his audiobook library. Today was the sort of day for an old favorite.

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence…

Jason hummed in satisfaction and turned his attention to the fridge. What to make for breakfast? He resolutely ignored the ghost who’d settled in his living room.

A few hours later, Jason was finishing the homemade fruit sauce when arms wrapped around his stomach and a head rested against his back.

“Mmmm, smells good,” mumbled Jazz, her voice rough with sleep.

Jason patted her arm. “I remember you liked the strawberry topping. Figured we could have it over pancakes. Batter is in the fridge.”

“Best boyfriend ever,” she said. She rested her head against his back and Jason felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t since he’d stepped out of the dining room and saw the ghost. “You left early.”

His stomach sank. Of course she noticed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Jason,” she said flatly, a hint of warning in her tone.

He sighed. “I just couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts going ‘round my head.”

“Hence the Austen?”

He chuckled. “Hence the Austen.”

She yawned and pushed away from him. “I’ll go brush my teeth and get Danny up.”

“He was up pretty late himself; might need to sleep in.”

She groaned. “Of course he was up, too. Well too bad. He could’ve gone to bed earlier and I think we need to have a talk about what to do next.”

“He said something about doctor yetis and a place called the Far Frozen,” Jason said. He stirred the strawberries and lifted a spoonful to test it’s consistency. Perfect. He turned off the burner.

“Oh. And you agreed?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice if I want that”—he jerked a thumb at the ghost—“gone.”

“Jason…” her voice had gone soft and he winced.

“I know,” he admitted to the stove. “I know it’s gonna be more complicated than that.”

She was silent for a moment before sighing. “I love you, Jay,” was all she said before walking away. Presumably to the bathroom to get ready.

Which meant he had to start the pancakes. He pulled out the griddle, added a wad of butter, and turned on the heat.

By the time Jazz and Danny returned, Jason had made a pile of pancakes large enough to satisfy a speedster. Next to it sat the strawberry topping and a jar of syrup in case that was Danny’s preference. On an impulse, he grabbed the chocolate chips, too.

Chocolate and Austen, the perfect combination for a crappy day.

Unfortunately, breakfast passed much too quickly for his tastes and soon enough they were packing away the leftovers in the fridge.

“Jazz, you’re so lucky you found someone who could cook,” commented Danny.

Jason had to laugh. “Yeah, not one of her skills, is it?”

“Not one of either of our skills. Has she told you about what our kitchen was like growing up?”

“After your knife comment last night, I feel like she may have left some things out.” Despite everything that had happened since, he hadn’t forgotten that little tidbit. Jazz was so tight-lipped about her childhood that Jason made a point to horde every detail she let slip.

Jazz groaned. “Nope. I’m full of delicious food and happy. I do not want to have to remember the hell that was the Fenton kitchen.”

From the corner of his eye. Jason could see the ghost looking at them with interest. He glared at him; the ghost glared right back.

“That’s enough, you two,” ordered Jazz.

Jason broke eye contact and stared at the floor to mumble and insincere apology he knew wouldn’t fool Jazz.

Luckily she took pity on him and didn’t push. “Danny, Jason said something about you taking us to the Far Frozen?”

Danny nodded. “Yep! Frostbite might be able to tell us what happened and have some ideas on how to help them.”

“Well, Jason, Robin,” started Jazz and Jason had to force himself to not wince at the way she addressed them both. “When do you think you want to go?”

“Now,” said Jason immediately. “Or as soon as possible. I want to know what’s going on.”

The ghost nodded his agreement and made more of those chirping noises that Danny seemed to understand.

“Then let’s get going,” said Danny.

Jazz sighed again. “Hold it, Danny. Jason, you and I should go get changed. There’s a reason it’s called the Far Frozen.”

Jason took her advice and dug deep in his closet for the heaviest winter gear. Before too long, Jazz declared them both dressed in enough layers to satisfy her. They returned to the living room.

“Do you need us to do anything?” asked Jason.

“Nah.” Danny raised his hand and made a slashing motion with his fist. “That’s all it takes. There’s some benefits to being the Ghost King: my ring can open portals anywhere.”

Following the motion Danny had made, a tear formed in the very fabric of the universe. Though it, Jason could see a swirling sky of Lazarus green. Over his years as a vigilante, Jason had seen many strange and impossible things. But that tear unsettled him on a more visceral level than most. It reminded him of the pits, he wanted to run away. It felt like home, he wanted to run forward. Instead he stared, transfixed by the way the bit of sky—was it sky?—through the portal appeared to flow like water.

Jazz grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Danny didn’t hesitate and flew right through, transforming as he did. The ghost followed right on his heels. Both turned to stare at him and Jazz.

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked forward and Jason followed, half a step behind.

His conflicted feelings got stronger with every step, but he kept pace with Jazz until they were through. No ground existed wherever they were, but he and Jazz were able to float in place.

Behind them, the portal disappeared. Taking with it his only hope of retreat.

-----

They've made it to the Infinite Realms! And Jason still has Feelings™️ about the ghost that's following. (Do you notice he never refers to Robin, even mentally, as anything other than "the ghost"? That's a very deliberate choice.)

The strawberry topping is a thing I make semi regularly. I will sit there and eat it with a spoon it's so good. But over pancakes? Absolutely decadent. (The recipe calls it a pie filling, but eh. I'd rather just eat it with a spoon. Or over ice cream. Or pancakes.)

#dpxdc #ghost!robin #jason todd #jazz fenton #anger management ship #i need to make pancakes one of these days #theyre yummy #danny devoured his #hes spent so little time on earth lately #that he was ecstatic to have good homemade pancakes #hed only ever had them when sleeping over at tuckers before

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strafepanzer · 2 years

Text

atmospheric | act i: cumulus

masterlist | act i | act ii | act iii

a @mybigbangacademia collab with @54prowl

rating: explicit (for future themes)

word count: 9.4k

tags: katsuki’s sailor tongue, staged (and non-staged) meet cutes, mentions of grief

a/n: oh my lord, i thought this would never come to fruition! i wanna thank @kweenkatsuki @kingkatsuki @karikarasuno and especially @54prowl for keeping me sane throughout this! thank you for reading my stuff and screaming about it and helping me through writers block and just being there for me when i was at my most anxious. i adore you all so so much!

“Hell fucking no.” Katsuki laughs. Laughs at the gall, at the sheer audacity. “I don’t need this. Why the fuck would I need this?”

His publicist shares a look with the rep from The Hero Commission. “Bakugo,” she takes a breath, clenches her jaw a little. He’s known Kira for a long time, knows she honestly tries to do what’s best for him, what he needs. “You could be number one.” She states confidently. “And I’m gonna be candid here, because we’re not strangers; I’ve been with you for six long years,” she doesn’t break eye contact with him, if anything she leans into him more. “I’m frustrated. It’s goddamn frustrating watching you sit at six. Six? You’re Dynamight.”

“That’s right!” The rep all but throws his hands up in the air. “Dynamight! You always catch the bad guy! Your merch is one of our best selling lines, you always file your work correctly— and on time!” He stresses, blue eyes as big and bright as All Might’s were. “Your issue is popularity, the polls; you don’t take fan pics, you don’t sign merch—“

“That’s not the point of bein’ a fucking hero—“

“We don’t want you to change, Bakugo, that’s the whole point of this. You don’t have to become a whole different person; in fact, we don’t really expect you to do much, especially during the first few months of the project.” The Project. He wants to snort, to cross his arms and lean back in his chair, show his disinterest; but, shit, he’d be a fucking liar if he didn’t admit sitting at six didn’t drive him up the wall.

“It’ll just start with a chance meeting here, another there, just so social media can get wind of it, and rumours can spread.” Kira relaxes a little, frown lines evening out as she takes in Anderson’s excited vibes. Katsuki huffs a little, meets her eyes. “We’ve had a team working on your story for a while.”

“Story…” he tests the word in his mouth as his brows draw together. “So there’s a script?”

“We have a timeline and set meetings,” Anderson smiles, leaning back in his chair. “Some social media stories we’ll need you to post, more she has to post; but as far as a script goes… it’s more of the direction we need you to go in.”

Katsuki sighs, grabs the surprisingly heavy booklet they presented to him earlier in the meeting. GOLDFISH takes up most of the cover page in giant letters, a corny TOP SECRET stamped in red takes up the rest of it; fucking stupid, dramatic, pretentious Hero Commission shit. He flips through the pages, glosses over the words until he gets to a sub heading titled Chance Meeting One.

They’re lucky he doesn’t peg the fucking book at Anderson.

Subject A bumps into Subject B on the red carpet. Subject B stumbles, Subject A steadies them, asks if they are okay. The two share a look, then get back to business. Paparazzi in the vicinity—

“So, if I’m subject A, who’s the mysterious Subject B?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm as he tosses the book back onto the table. He’s mildly surprised— concerned, even?— when neither of them jump to tell him.

“We can’t… tell you… until you sign the contract.” Kira says quietly, the nerves he’s so accustomed to seeing, creeping back onto her face.

His scowl must deepen astronomically, because she turns to Anderson with her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You’re not the only hero suffering in the popularity polls.” Anderson shrugs, gesturing with his hands. “Kira’s just been meticulous about you getting the boost. In reality, this would be a good deal for all of the top 10 heroes.”

Katsuki feels his eye twitch.

“Shouto, for example, isn’t that great with social cues, tends to shy away from media; he’s already at three, we could get him higher.” Anderson is 100% goading him, and Katsuki knows it, but it’s working.

“Is she a hero?”

“No,” his agent says confidently. “She’s not in the business, not a part of the commission either.”

“She’s well-loved, fawned over. Attractive.” Anderson turns to Kira. “Would you say so?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. We’d never set you up for failure, Bakugo, I can promise you that.”

“I don’t care what she looks like,” he huffs, slightly agitated. “I just don’t wanna drop in the polls.” He grumbles, glare set on Anderson. “Do they know it’s me?”

“Nope, she just knows you’re a hero.” He answers with a toothy smile.

Katsuki presses on. “Does she know I’m in top 10?”

“Her contract states it’ll be a hero in the top 50.” He shoots back, unblinking.

“Just say yes Bakugo, I promise it’ll be worth it.” Kira interjects, eyes hopeful. “And hey, you might actually really like her.”

Katsuki’s snort of laughter is loud. “Doubt it.” He grabs the book and flicks through the pages again, what’s the harm in taking it home and having a read? “Do I have to decide now?”

“Yes.” They answer together, Anderson steadfast and Kira flat.

“Really?”

“No time like the present.” The rep shrugs, the Cheshire grin on his face only growing with Katsuki’s frustration.

“You’re a real fucking ass you know that?” The hero grumbles, throwing his glare over his shoulder, pretending to be interested in the view of the setting sun from their vantage point on the 47th floor of the Hero Commission.

“The sooner you sign, the sooner we get the ball rolling.” Anderson drums the table like a fucking salesman.

And Katsuki signs the contract.

—

Katsuki still lives in the same apartment he bought when he was a rookie. Granted, back then this place was far too good for him, with its timber floorboards, prime location, and it’s five burner stainless steel natural gas cooktop. The previous owner was selling to move abroad; a retired chef who allowed Katsuki a walkthrough of the place as a ‘favour’ to one of Aizawa’s friends.

She—the chef— must’ve seen something in Katsuki when his eyes roamed the sparkling appliances, the range hood, the dishwasher, the fridge, because she accepted his offer, and he’d moved in the next week. It wasn’t until Eijirou had mentioned a couple months into living there, that his bathroom tiles were pink, that Katsuki had even noticed; that’s just how smitten he was with that fucking kitchen.

Now, years later, he feels shitty looking at his commercial grade kitchen.

When was the last time he cooked? Shit, the only time he even uses his kitchen is when he makes himself an instant coffee before work, or reheats takeout from the night before. He’s so busy at TDA, so busy bagging baddies and fighting crime and filing fucking paperwork that he’s gotta eat and run, with the shitty haired idiot eating into his days off with god damned babysitting duties at his place.

Katsuki sinks into the worn leather of his camel coloured couch, A4 envelope in his hand. He should open it, should find out who exactly this mystery girl is, should prepare. Instead, he sighs, tosses the crisp wad of paper onto the seat next to him, runs a hand down his face.

If even one person finds out he’s doing this, he’s over.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands drawing down his face, crimson staring into the white of his ceiling, the elaborate cornices joining the muted grey of his walls. Bare walls.

The chef had paintings on the walls, heavy velvet curtains over the windows, colourful rugs, buffets covered in photos, house plants, and so much furniture. But Katsuki— young and pretentious— didn’t get that. He liked how huge the apartment seemed without it all, how high the ceilings felt, how large the rooms were.

Now, as much as he’s loathe to admit it, it feels kinda lonely.

But, he’ll do what he usually does when that nagging emptiness nips at his ankles, when he’s alone and actually feeling it: he’ll head to TDA. He’ll get to work, ignore Deku and that half and half bastard when they tell him they’ve got everything covered, ignore sparky when he teases him about not having a life, ignore pink cheeks when she reminds him for the millionth time he’s not getting paid overtime.

With a heaved sigh, he sits forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. That envelope glares at him from the other side of the two seater lounge, sitting there as if it’s some kind of placeholder, as if the girl herself is going to materialise next to him if he dares to open it.

He doesn’t open it.

—

TDA—The Deku Agency (yeah, stupid fucking name)— is lively in the afternoons. Heroes and rookies mingle with civvies in the foyer, sitting at cozy little tables and ordering overpriced drinks and cakes from the café Deku had installed in the far corner of the lobby in a bid to improve relations between them. The Commission loved it.

Katsuki uses the back door.

He takes the maintenance elevator up to the office floor and wordlessly finds his desk, revels in the pssssssht as he sinks into the bright orange, high-backed ergolux. It’s comfy for an office chair, just the right amount of worn in, without the irritation of squeaky screws his old chair had.

“Don’t you have today off?” Icyhot’s glare is blank, cold soba (probably) noodles suspended between the chopsticks held at lip level.

“None’a your business, half ‘n’ half.” Katsuki glares back heatedly, spinning in his chair to face his monitor. It, too, is… orange. Just like Deku’s is broccoli green, and round cheeks’ is pink, and fucking half ‘n’ half’s is… half red, half icy blue. According to Deku, some computer company brought out a whole range of hero inspired computers in a collab with the Commission and he just had to get one for everyone; with matching chairs.

The colours throw off the serenity the floor could have, with its glossy white floors, floor to ceiling windows, the greenery delicately placed around the space. But, that’s Deku and Pink Cheeks to a tee, and the icyhot asshole just goes along with whatever half-baked plan the two of them conspire.

“Was it expensive?” Todoroki presses, those eyes still staring holes into Katsuki.

“Haah?” He knows he shouldn’t rise to the bait, but he’s tense as it is, so that red glare of his is burning through Shouto in an instant.

“The fine? Property damage, Uraraka thinks, but my money’s on defamation?” He says it with such disinterest, that it almost takes Katsuki off guard.

“It was a meeting, dipshit; about my career. I don’t have any outstanding fines.” He almost snarls, irritation a growling monster in his gut. “Asshole.” He adds, filing away Ochako’s involvement in the back of his mind. He’ll call her out for it later; she’s always the one putting ridiculous ideas in that two-toned space cadet’s head.

“Ah, sorry.” He hears him mumble back, followed by a loud slurp that makes Katsuki’s left eye twitch.

“You should be.” The blonde huffs, irritation mounting at the lack of sincerity in his voice. “Who the hell did you think was suing me?”

“Hm? Didn’t you badmouth Grand on Twitter last week?”

Katsuki actually laughs. “If that asshole wants to go to battle, he’ll need to be ready for fucking war.”

“What was the meeting about, then? Your public image? Are they mad at you?”

Yes and no.

“You’re awfully chatty today.”

“Well, I’m having a meeting next week,” Shouto admits, piquing Katsuki’s interest; he swivels in his chair, watches his friend as he plays with his noodles absentmindedly. “Just… Don’t know what to expect.”

“Oh.” Is all Katsuki can really say. He vaguely remembers Shouto mentioning something about almost slipping in the polls, and although he’s higher than Katsuki, he bets his own agent’s been getting a beat down from the Commission. While they don’t really care who sits at number one, they do care when merch sales drop and social media interaction is low.

“I just hate… all of that extra stuff. All of the unnecessary competition that comes along with this job. Reminds me of… Father.” As if sensing he’s stepped a foot wrong (for once in his life), Shouto mumbles a sorry and turns back towards his computer screen.

Normally, a mention of Shouto’s father leaves a bittersweet taste in Katsuki’s mouth, has him turning cheek to cheer his friend up in his own asshole-y way… but guilt nips at his heels. Guilt that his contract might actually have him surpassing Shouto with a leg-up Katsuki doesn’t technically need. Katsuki isn’t Shouto; he’s a prick on purpose, not out of childhood trauma-induced ignorance. Katsuki knows that the things he says and his shitty actions have god damned consequences.

Todoroki’s just a little weird.

Fuck, another reason to feel shitty about signing that fucking contract.

After a few moments, Shouto’s slurping starts again, giving Katsuki the green light to get his head out of his ass. He turns back to his own computer, taps the space bar a few times to wake it up, and logs into the portal.

Time to catch up on some incident reports.

—

The Kirishima Household is lovely. Pro Hero Red Riot bought a place out in the ‘burbs when he got married, a semi-renovated two-storey place with a yard. It’s hard to find a place with a yard so close to the city, especially on rookie hero wages. The place has three bedrooms upstairs, with the living and dining, kitchen, and bath and toilet downstairs; Eijirou’s been trying to convince Katsuki to claim the third bedroom as his, even bought him an alarm clock and an All Might sheet set for the bed, but Katsuki chronically takes the couch.

When he comes over the night before the Gala to watch Akari, the father-daughter duo are playing MarioKart. Katsuki shakes his head at them— concealing his grin— and takes his groceries to the kitchen, set on making dinner for the two of them before Ei has to head off to work.

He must be thinking too hard, the anxiety of the Gala etched on his face, because Eijirou is hovering.

The red head’s also giving him the look.

Between serving his little girl dinner— which Katsuki assured him, he could do— getting his shit together for his shift, and making small talk with Katsuki, he keeps staring. It’s the goading look; the one that says: hey man, I know something’s wrong, but you’re just gonna say nothin’ if I ask, so I’m gonna need you to tell me.

Katsuki’s not gonna tell him.

He can’t.

What, just come out with a: yeah, I actually accepted an offer from the Commission to fake date someone in order for my public perception to improve, so I’ll climb the popularity polls. No chance in hell; not even if the place froze over.

Sure, if anyone were to understand, it’d probably be Eijirou. Either him, Deku, or Shouto, but… he just can’t. Especially with Red Riot sitting at number 8.

Katsuki has to usher him out the door at 6pm, has to pretend he’s fine, and that nothing’s bothering him; he even tries to give Ei a reassuring smile as he hops on his motorbike, but thinking back on that moment, it probably only worsens his perception of Katsuki. Since when does he smile and wave him off to work?

Shit.

He settles onto the sofa next to Ei’s mini me after tidying the kitchen and tossing a load of laundry in the wash. A replay of the morning news should relax him a little, should take his mind off this stupid Gala, the stupid red carpet, the stupid fucking contractual dating.

The news anchors are achingly boring, droning on about the finance sector, the stock market; Deku’s into all that shit, pulled Katsuki into investing almost a decade ago. The idiot even told Katsuki not to waste his first hero pay check on stupid stuff… then went ahead and bought some 160,000Y All Might figure that looked achingly out of place on his coffee table in his tiny loft studio apartment.

Then he’s on the news, a flash of blonde and green and orange flying through the sky. He’d apprehended a villain last night, and the news loves reporting on all of the property damage that usually comes along with Katsuki’s quirk; he’s gotten so good at holding back, but since signing the contract, he knows he’s been acting a little more recklessly. And of course, snakey fucking journalists have to jump on that. Reminds him how much he fucking hates the news.

At least the weather girl’s cute.

“Uncle Kats? You okay?” Akari blinks, looking up from her iPad. She’s the spit out of her father’s mouth with those big red eyes and inky black hair, not to mention how much she loves Katsuki. Must run in the Kirishima genes.

“Why d’ya ask, kiddo?”

“I knew it,” she sighs, pulling her feet underneath her as she locks her iPad. “Dad’s got another girlfriend, doesn’t he? You always get weird like this when he’s seeing someone.”

Katsuki snorts laughter. “Always? Your dad has dated two people since you’ve been alive.”

“You’re acting weird!” She argues, arms gesturing wildly.

“You’re ten, you have no idea what weird even is.” He brushes her off, hoping to relive her of her street, but unable to do it nicely. He doesn’t really do nice.

“Dad was staring at you funny, and you were being weird.” She scrunches her little nose up at him, and Katsuki knows he’s not getting out of this conversation without putting a little bit of work in.

“Your dad stares at me funny all the time, squirt; you should’ve seen him when we were in high school.”

“He looked worried.” Akari frowns, because it is strange when Ei’s not being carefree.

Still, he’s gonna pretend he didn’t notice. “Did he?”

“Yeah and you did too!” She accuses, voice rising, annoyed. “Like, right up until now”

“So, because we both look worried, your dad’s dating again.” Its not a question, it’s her conclusion.

“Yeah, because he’s worried you’ll tell me, and you’re worried you have to keep it a secret. You don’t, by the way, I’m double digits now, so you can trust me with your secrets, I promise, Uncle Kats.” She bats those lashes at him, eyes shining with what he can only call mirth. The one thing she seemed to pick up from Katsuki after all these years babysitting.

He sighs, midway between impressed at her reasoning skills, and bummed that he can’t give her the answers she’s looking for. Still, he lets out a low whistle. “Double digits, huh? Sounds like you’re too old to hang out with Uncle Kats at the parlour.”

Seems like redirection still works for pre-teens, because her ruby reds light up like it’s Christmas. “You said you’re too famous to go out in public!”

“Are you arguing with ice cream, squirt?” He fakes a glower, sends her a little glare that can only be taken as playful.

“No way!” She bounces from the couch and practically runs to the landing. “I’m just gonna put my coat and shoes on!” She calls, talking way too fast. But then her little face pokes back around the corner, brows furrowed. “No take-backs.” She glares, wary.

He sighs, rubs a huge scarred hand over his too tired face. “No take backs.” He shrugs, shaking his head.

Akari seems content to leave his sight after that, her fast footfalls trekking up the stairs, her bedroom door slamming open. Meanwhile, he sinks a little into the sofa, annoyed with himself; mostly for acting so obviously emotional in front of a child, but also for promising her ice cream.

Looks like a beanie, face mask, and sunglasses type of night.

—

Eijirou rolls up the driveway a long thirteen hours after he left.

Katsuki’s made Eijirou a decaf tea— he’s gotta sleep today, and all that— and he’s stirring his coffee with a teaspoon as he leans against the countertop in the kitchen, eyes on the front door in anticipation. He needs to talk to him, needs to reassure his best friend that he’s okay, that there’s not really anything wrong.

Tell him what’s going on without explicitly telling him what’s going on.

“Daddy’s home!” He calls, bursting into the house with far too much energy for coming off an overnight shift.

“Dude, she’s asleep.”

“What?” His face falls, eyes darting around the kitchen like Katsuki’s telling lies. “It’s seven am, she’s got school this morning.” He grows more panicked by the second. “The bus gets here at seven-fifty—“

“Eiji, c’mon, all she’s gotta do is get up, get dressed, and eat breakfast.” Katsuki grumbles, rolling his eyes.

“How are you letting her sleep in? I knew it, something’s wrong. You were acting so weird last night, but this is… this is worse.” He dumps his work bag at his feet, puts his hands on his hips and gives him those god damn puppy eyes that are generally reserved for begging Katsuki to go somewhere with him. “You’re harder on her schedule than I am, Katsuki.”

Katsuki sighs, steps over to rinse his teaspoon in the sink. “I took her out for ice cream last night, and we stayed out past her bedtime, so I told her I’d let her sleep in until seven-thirty.” He picks up Eijirou’s tea, hold it out for him to take. “I’m fine, really, it’s just a work thing.”

Eijirou accepts the mug, takes a few steps to sit at his four-seater dining table. “A work thing you can’t tell your best bud about.”

“It’s—“ Katsuki hesitates, taking his coffee with him to joint Eijirou at the table. “The Hero Gala is coming up, and Kira is making me go. You know how I hate doing publicity shit.” Not a lie. It’s true, he has to go to the pretentious fucking Hero Gala, and he hates all that stupid shit, and, yeah maybe there’s something else going on at the Gala, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he doesn’t wanna go.

Eiji’s mouth hangs open. “That’s it?”

“Hah?” Katsuki glares.

“You’re freaking out about the Gala?”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, I— geez, Kats, I actually thought there was something eating at your soul. You looked like you made a deal with a crossroads demon or something.” He shakes his head of whatever thoughts he’s been having and lets out a laugh, takes a sip of his tea.

Eijirou has no idea just how on the money he actually is.

“Nah, I just don’t know what to wear, how to act. You know how I can get with camera flashes.” He sighs, remembering the last press release he went to— all of the cameras and loud noises, and… fuck, it’s uncomfortable, and reminds him of being out in battle. Maybe he actually needs to get onto someone about PTSD like shitty Deku keeps suggesting.

Eijirou lets out a breath, the weight falling off his shoulders. “Well, you’ve always looked good in red; brings out your eyes.”

Katsuki chuckles then. “You’re a biased little shit, Ei.”

“I know.”

—

The Gala is everything Katsuki expects it to be: loud, crowded, and brightly lit. Paparazzi and fans line the streets for blocks leading to the venue, and it makes his nose twitch. He’s not the best with his public image, but tonight he has to at least try. Has to put in some goddamn effort.

Not only for himself, but for TDA, for his… to be girlfriend.

God, it even sounds fucking stupid in his head.

He drove himself, the plan to pull up in the valet cue and open the envelope, prepare then. In hindsight it’s pretty last minute, but knowing a name threatened over overthinking on his part. He’s never really been known for his level head, and in that respect, he’s his worst enemy.

He’d argued with Kira a couple of days ago about a pre-meeting meeting, something to ease his anxiety, somewhere for him to meet this woman and form some kind of fool-proof game plan; but he was shot down.

What if a pap sees them entering the same building before they even meet?

That’ll ruin the meet-cute for the fans, destroy everything the commission worked hard to create. Which is fair, honestly; she’d asked him if he read the plan, reminded him that until they can’t even have phone contact until the third meet just in case anyone catches wind of anything.

Stupid Commission and their goddamn paranoia.

So as Katsuki sits in the cue, venue a beacon of light a couple a blocks away, he opens the centre console of Maserati Gran Turismo and pulls out the envelope, unrolls it and flattens it against his thighs. This is it, no time to mull over the results, because as he idles, the cue slowly rolls forward, bringing him closer to the Gala by the minute.

As calloused fingers carefully pull at the tab, his mind races. He thinks about just how long he’s waited for this moment, how on edge he’s been since he scribbled his signature at the bottom of that contract. As much as he’s loathe to admit it, he needs to do a good job with this, needs to put in the effort, needs to milk it for all its worth.

For some reason, he thinks back to Shouto sitting in his office chair, clearly worried about his own standings in the ranks, looking sorry as hell. He wonders how Shouto’d feel if Anderson were sitting across from him at the table, offering him help he doesn’t quite need, giving him an opportunity he might not be fit to take.

But, shit, that worrying? It’s so unnecessary. Icyhot might not have even wanted to sign the fucking contract. Sometimes Katsuki doesn’t give him the credit he deserves.

He tugs the paper from the envelope and scans the page.

Your name sits there in bold block letters.

But he has no idea who the fuck you are.

Kira’s got his phone and wallet in her bag so he can comfortably walk the carpet, so he can’t even Google who the hell you are. He says your name over and over in his brain, trying to light up electrodes, trying to think of anything that could bring a face to your name.

“Fuck,” he hisses, reading the name again, skimming through the document. There’s nothing there about you, no occupation, no bio, no nothing. “Fuck.” He growls, glancing up to see the venue way closer than he anticipated.

It’s fine. It’s fine because no other person would even think about bumping into Dynamight, not even on accident. This woman is going to knock into him, he’s going to steady her, not glare at her, and then it’ll be over. He can do this.

It’s going to be fine.

By the time he realises he’s shaking his leg, he’s the fourth car in the cue. He remembers the wise words of wisdom Ei shot him as he left his house that morning: you’re gonna look good, bro; just don’t blow anyone up.

He checks his hair in the rear view mirror, makes sure the lapel of his deep, deep red suit jacket is laying nicely against the matte black if his dress shirt, that his black silken tie is sitting centre. He didn’t wanna wear red, but Kira agreed with Ei, insisted it brought out the ruby of his eyes, and would make it easier for the girl to spot him.

For you to spot him.

Fuck, he’s next.

When the limo in front of him drives away, he rolls up until he’s gestured to stop, puts the car in park and presses the handbrake on. At least the anxiety of meeting you and following this script is taking his mind off how much he hates red carpets.

Oh, great, he’s gonna blend into the fucking flooring.

“Dynamight, big fan,” the valet— tall, lanky, cat-like— opens his door, gestures widely for him to exit the car.

“Hey, thanks,” Katsuki nods, points to the button to the left of the steering wheel. “Handbrake’s on; don’t drop the clutch too fast or you’ll stall her.” He explains as he slides out of the seat, stands tall to meet the valet’s eyes. He’s still a couple of inches taller.

“I will be very gentle with her, I promise.” He grins, holding a ticket out for Katsuki as he shoves his hands into his pants pockets, lifts his chin as if assessing the slightly shorter man.

Then— deeming his valet adequate— Katsuki takes the ticket, slides it into his pocket, and nods him a good night.

When Katsuki turns towards the golden— not red, thank god— carpet, it’s as if someone’s just unmuted the television; it’s suddenly way too loud, his name being screamed from all angles, camera flashes blinding him, people crowding him. He’s ushered to the first little black X taped to the carpet by a busy little woman in a black suit, is briefly told to pause and pose for pics, before she hurries off in a blur.

He straightens a little, softens the agitation on his face a bit, but doesn’t smile. Why the hell would he? The paps are all desperately calling a mixture of his last name and his hero name, shouting at him like he’s some kind of prized pony, and he hates it. He hates the showboating, loathes the OTT smiling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Kira, her dress a tight purple bodice with a midi length circle skirt; she’s got a headset on, just like the other PA’s and Gala staff, and a black satchel bag slung across her torso. She beams when their eyes meet, but gestures for him to keep posing, uses her pointer fingers to elongate the smile on her own face, then loudly mouths smile.

The audacity of her has a smirk sliding onto his face, and he glances at the paps for a bit, before heading towards her.

“You look good!” She beams, dusting absolutely nothing from his shoulders and looking up at him like a proud mama. “Are you ready?” She leans up to ask him, voice more muted than before.

“Yeah, I just—“ he glances around, leans down to her ear. “I don’t know who she is.”

“Huh? Really?” Kira’s eyes almost bug our of her head. “What do you mean?”

“Shit, I—“

“Bakugo Katsuki willingly participating in a photo op? I think my depression is cured.” Katsuki would know that low drawl anywhere, his gut instinct affirmed when he’s met with lazy lavender eyes, and a just as lazy smirk.

“Shinsou?” Katsuki’s eyes widen. Last he heard about mindfreak, he was working the underground, so seeing him here is kind of throwing him off.

“Nice threads; when did hell freeze over?” Shinsou’s purple hair is in a messy bun, showing off a faded undercut, his suit pirate-esque with a too-open white shirt, brown suspenders and matching brown slacks.

“Funny. Who are you here with?” Katsuki snips, looking around for a possible date.

“What, am I not famous enough to work the golden carpet?” He snips in return. “You caught me, I’m here with Denks.” Then he nods behind him, at Kaminari who’s looking in his element in fucking sequins.

It brings a grin to Katsuki’s face, and he holds out his hand for Shinsou to shake. “Good to see you either way.”

“Bakugo,” Kira tugs his jacket sleeve, eyes wide as she nods for him to keep moving. “We gotta get inside.”

“Oh, sorry dude; I know how this makes you antsy.” Shinsou watches him exchange a look with Kira, takes his hand and gives it a shake.

“See you in there?” Katsuki nods.

“Bet.” Shinsou grins, dropping his hand, sauntering off towards Denki.

“You don’t know who she is? So what, you’re just gonna look clunky and hyperaware of every woman coming within a foot of you on a busy red carpet?” Kira is hissing at him as she directs him towards where semi-retired Mt Lady is having an interview with a reporter. “Did you not open the envelope?”

“I did, I just don’t know who the fuck she is, sue me.” Katsuki snips at her, just as annoyed with himself as she is.

“Oh, if this gets out, you’ll be getting sued Bakugo, don’t you worry.” She shakes her head, and points to the X’s plastered in a zig-zag all the way up to the entrance of the building. “Make your way up, hit each black X. Don’t worry about the white or the red, just hit the black ones.”

“There’s like eleven of them.”

“I’ll meet you inside,” she smiles without her eyes. “Don’t overthink it, and be fucking nice.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Go.”

He heads towards the first X when Denki moves on, a pretty reporter in white standing there with a crew and a smartphone wave him over.

“Dynamight!” She tucks a lock of pink hair behind her ear, bounces excitedly in place on the tallest pair of stilettos Katsuki has ever seen.

For all intents and purposes, this could be her. His heart absolutely hammers in his chest and he’s not entirely sure if he’s nervous because he hates the media, or if he’s about to meet the woman he’s gotta ‘fall in love’ with.

“Good to see you, number six! How’s things?” She asks into the bottom of her phone, before holding it out to him.

“Evening,” he greets. “It’s… loud here.” He makes a point to soften his scowl, looks at all of the fans and other people on the other side of the barricade. Be fucking nice, she said. Be fucking nice.

They absolutely roar.

“I don’t think your fans are used to seeing you like this. Who dressed you tonight?” She eyes him up and down, looks like she wants to touch him, but thinks better of it.

“I dressed myself, actually.” He says with a bit of bravado, that shit eating grin splitting his face as he tucks his thumbs under the lapels of his jacket and runs them down.

She laughs, a full-bodied thing that catches Katsuki off guard, has him looking awkwardly between her and the cameraman. “No, I mean who designed what you’re wearing?”

He doesn’t know. And he can’t be rude to this girl just in case she’s her; there’s a split second of internal struggle within him before she interrupts his chain of thought.

“You don’t know, do you Dynamight?”

“Am I gonna get in trouble from my agent if I don’t?” He looks behind himself, through the crowd for the purple dress, but it’s nowhere to be seen.

“No! No way! Just tweet it later!” She laughs, patting him lightly on his upper arm.

He laughs, almost bitterly. “Right, twitter, sure.” He suppresses an eye roll, lifts his hand to wave at the crowd, the camera, then her. “Enjoy your night.”

“We love you, Dynamight!” She cheers, setting the fans off again, the noise absolutely deafening him; and he’s used to loud, used to explosive. But not like this. At least when he’s detonating, he’s full of adrenaline, not fucking nerves.

The second, third, and fourth X interviews are all more of the same; more questions about his look, about how he’s unusually chatty, about how he actually showed up. It’s hard to be fucking nice, but it does take his mind off the reason he decided to show up tonight.

Until someone’s knocking into him, and he’s instinctively wrapping an arm around their waist to stop them from falling flat on their ass. There’s a collective gasp in the immediate vicinity, but all Katsuki can see is you. You in your shimmery peach gown, eyes bright and wide, face flushed and lips parted in awe.

And he recognises you immediately; sees you almost every morning when he’s got an office shift, sometimes even nights. Ochako’s a stickler for the news, watches the same channel every day like clockwork to keep an eye on the stock market when Deku can’t; and he’s always liked the addition of you, keeps an ear out for your sing-song voice under the guise of needing to know what kind of sky he’s gonna be flinging his body into if he has to fight that day.

“Weather girl?” He breathes, finally putting a face to the name.

You just kinda gawk at him, a special kind of shock that he can only describe as wonder.

“D-Dynamight? Can you help me up?” You blink, not quite knowing what to do with your hands while he has you suspended mid-fall.

As if breaking his trance, he curses a quick, “oh, shit,” before helping you back to your feet.

“Thanks,” you smile a little awkwardly. “And sorry. For, you know, knocking into you.”

“No, uh, harm done.” He mutters back, all of the bravado he’s built up over the course of the carpet walk going down the drain as he watches you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “You okay?”

You process his question without breaking eye contact with him, then you nod once, real slow. “Yeah,” you say, smile growing on your face. “Yeah, I think I am. Nice to meet you.”

He can’t help but mirror your smile. “Likewise.”

—

There’s a photo and an accompanying video going ‘viral’ when Katsuki wakes up in the morning. He knows this because not one, not two, not three, but seven different people send him links to varying posts, with people going a little nutso over his little meeting with you.

Kira’s happy too; she was all smiles for the rest of the night, texting on her phone, disappearing to relay things with Anderson before giving Katsuki his personal items back out of her satchel, and knocking off for the night. He didn’t plan to stay, but he did; had a few bourbons and hung out with Shinsou and Denki and their little gang until daybreak.

Shinsou’s sent him a few messages— he’s a double texter— and Katsuki touches base with him before delving into the world of social media, just to see how successful Meeting One was.

He’s fucking trending.

As much as he’s loathe to search his hashtag, he clicks into it; he scrolls through candid and posed photos of him in his red and black ensemble, people’s text posts commenting on how they would let him “eat them alive” among other—more intense—things, and pictures of you.

He looks at those the longest, studies the lines and curves of your face, compares how you look when you’re at ease versus when you smile brightly. You’re pretty in a… normal way. He’s kinda blown away that they didn’t pick some overly glamorous pop idol, that they found someone that’s practically his type.

Fuck, it makes him a gross type of nervous, though. The way that he’s not going to hate this makes it worse and better, and he’s conflicted because this might not be as bad as he anticipated, and he’s not sure if he likes that or not.

His social media deep dive takes him to your page, and he lays in his bed for what feels like hours scrolling through your content. You’re the weather girl for the nation’s most watched breakfast program, Good Morning Japan, and you’re clearly the show’s sweetheart. There’s photos of you with fluffy animals, on boats, at the beach, with celebrities. Katsuki feels like a dunce for not knowing your name when he read it on the paper.

One of the top posts in your hashtag is a photo of you in a bikini and a sarong, feet ankle deep in the shallow waters of Furuzamami Beach.

Fuck, you’re hot.

He throws his phone towards the end of the bed and begins his morning routine; Deku’s given him the office shift this week, and he intends to make the most out of it.

—

“Hey,” Katsuki pants, breathless.

“Katsuki, bro, the weather girl from channel 5?” Eijirou’s voice is smug as all as it rings through his AirPods. “She’s cute!”

“Eijirou, I will hang up on you.” He threatens, taking the museum stairs two at a time. He’s on his afternoon run through the city, pushing himself a little further than usual because of… reasons. The best part about being on office shift, is he finishes his shift as soon as paperwork is caught up on. And Katsuki is efficient as fuck.

“Akari keeps asking me when you’re over next, by the way. She said that you promised to take her to the parlour again.”

“Oh.” Yeah he did do that. Had her pretend she was feeling sick so he could slip from the grasp of some fans.

“Yeah, you’re bribing my daughter with ice cream again, aren’t you?”

“When’s your next overnighter?”

“Oh, I’m on days for the month,” he sighs, content on the other end of the line. “Tamaki’s taking my nights so I can spend more time with Aki; I’ve also got tomorrow off for the Maru’s anniversary visit.”

“That’s… nice of him.” Ah, yeah, it's the anniversary tomorrow; Eijirou’s taking it a little easier with each passing year, but the death of his wife is a painful cross to bear.

“Yeah I know, he’s a good guy. Anyways, just wanted to know if you wanted company tonight? I’m making breakfast for dinner.”

“Oh, your favourite.”

“Yeah, can’t go past it, am I right?”

“I’ll come around for a bit, but I’ve got a big day tomorrow, so I can’t sleep over.” By big day, he means he’s meeting you again, and he needs the night to himself to overthink the whole thing.

“You got a whole room there, though.”

“Ei, as much as I love you and Aki, I love my bed more.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” There's some shuffling on his end, paperwork probably, then he perks back up. “How long have you been feeding me decaf tea?”

“What?”

“I have decaf tea in my cupboard at home.”

“Ei, I give you decaf every time.”

“Oh.”

“See you tonight; do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nah, I’m all organised.”

There’s a pause where Katsuki contemplates bringing up the anniversary, but thinks better of it. “Be over around six.”

—

He’s not all organised.

If Katsuki could pretend to be surprised, he would, but, “You forgot the eggs? For breakfast for dinner? No eggs?”

“Dude, don’t do this, Akari’s already given me shit for it.”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki suppresses a grin. “I’ll run down and get some. Aki, want anything from the corner store?”

“Chocolate milk!” She yells from her room upstairs.

“Hey, get beers, too.” Eijirou says offhandedly.

This makes Katsuki pause. “Ei.”

“Kats.” He says in response, not meeting his gaze.

“Ugh, fine.” He grunts, sliding his shoes back on and toying with the black facemask in his pocket. “You can thank Maru for my leniency.” He says, glare hot on his friend. Eijirou just grins back as he fixes his stupid ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron behind his back, and Katsuki pulls on his beanie and mask, setting out for the walk.

He knows he wants to settle down a little further from the city. Ideally, even further than this. Sure, it’s a quiet neighbourhood, safe, where the houses have yards, and there’s grass, and trees, but… Katsuki needs more space. Privacy.

His relationship with the spotlight is rocky at best, and there’s this nagging in the back of Katsuki’s brain that warns him off all of this social media shit, the trending, the paparazzi, the overzealous fans.

The bell jingles as he enters the corner shop; it’s later than rush hour, but earlier than the typical teenaged late night snack visit, so the place is quiet.

He grabs the eggs from the shelf and heads down the aisle to the fridges, set on pulling the door open and grabbing a six pack of Sapporos.

“Oh!” A woman gasps, about to grab the handle as he reaches for it. “Sorry!” Her apology slips from her lips, and he feels his face flush a little under his mask.

It’s his fault, he’s been in his own head all afternoon. “No, I—”

It’s you.

You seem to make the realisation just as he does, your eyes widening and a gasp leaving your lips. And you both stare, his own eyes glued yours as if he were stuck in some kind of trance, as if you had him under some kind of spell.

You blink first, and he forces himself to look away for a second, so he can catch his bearings.

“I’m sorry Bakugo, I wasn’t paying attention.” You’re wearing a facemask as well, but your smile pushes your cheeks up to crinkle your eyes.

“Nah, neither was I,” he admits. “You live around here?”

“Me? No, I’m cat-sitting for a friend.” You laugh. “Gosh, this is surreal, isn’t it? Imagine running into you here of all places.”

“Yeah, both of us buying beers,” he does his best to joke— which sounds fucking stupid, by the way— but you laugh a little more, glance around the shop before leaning closer to him.

“Feels like we shouldn’t be talking yet, doesn’t it?” Your eyes almost sparkle under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he can’t help but stare. “I just wanna say thanks, though— for catching me at the Gala. I wasn’t going to trip so hard, but you were standing there like some grumpy Adonis, and I—” you lean up to whisper in his ear. “I got nervous and actually tripped.”

“Lucky I got good reflexes, huh?” He quips back, suddenly feeling super nervous— which is weird as hell.

“The best— Oh, I better let you get back to your night.” You take a step back, open the door and grab a bottle of wine, boots squeaking on the linoleum floor when you crouch down to grab a 6-pack of beers. “These ones?”

He nods, points to the pink knee-length rain boots you’re wearing. “They’re cute,” he can’t help but snicker. “All part of the weather girl uniform, I guess?”

You hand him the beers with a laugh as you stand. “I happen to think they suit me,” you say in defence, pointing and tapping a toe dramatically.

“You’d be right,” he says a little too gently, clearing his throat when you look up at him with surprise through your lashes. “I, uh,” he starts, those damn nerves not going away. “See you around.”

“Y-yeah, sure.” You nod. “I’m gonna check out the ice cream, bye!” Then in a flash of tan coat and pink boots, you’re heading back towards the frozen section, and he’s shaking his head, eggs in one hand and beers in the other.

He tries not to stare too much, tries not to dwell on the lightness of his heart, or how god damn likeable you are. Instead he hastily grabs a chocolate milk, heads to the checkout, pays for the goods, and leaves.

—

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow that he can feel Eijirou trying to push down all evening. It doesn’t quite seep into Akari— she was only a baby when her mum passed— but Eiji’s frayed edges scratch at Katsuki, and deep into the night they’re both tipsy, sitting on the back porch nursing beers after Akari heads to bed.

They don’t need to talk— far past silence being uncomfortable— but when Eijirou’s shoulders start to shake, Katsuki wraps an arm around him, pulls his head to his chest, and lets him sob.

He stays on the couch, still not ready to christen those All Might bedsheets.

—

The second “official” meeting is supposed to happen while he’s on duty. He read through the file this time, so he’s prepared; maybe even a little… over prepared.

It’s morning, and you’re supposed to be at a certain famous bakery, sampling the goods in an advertising bid between the cafe and your work; weather on location, or something ridiculous. Then, he’s supposed to enter, and he’s supposed to look at you like ‘oh, you’re from the Gala’, and you’re supposed to look at him the same way.

The Commission didn’t account for Katsuki running into an actual villain.

He wipes his bloodied nose on the back of his glove, watches as Iida drives the crook away in the back of a paddy wagon, then pulls his other glove off with his teeth to look at his watch.

9:15am. The meeting was scheduled for 8:10am.

“All good, Dynamight?” One of the EMT’s waves him over and he inwardly groans.

“It’s just my nose, I’m fine.” He insists, swatting the little green man away.

“Just let me do a couple of observations, dude, it’ll take two minutes.” His pink eyes narrow up at Katsuki, and the grumpy blonde gives in, following him over to a bench and sitting down, letting him work his paramedic magic on him.

His phone vibrates in the pocket of his tac pants, and his watch tells him it’s Kira. He taps a few buttons on his watch, connects it effortlessly to the earpiece in his left ear. “Hey,”

“Bakugo, what happened? Anderson is pissed.” She hisses through the earpiece.

“I am currently with…” He glances down at the short man crouching around his med-pack, reads his name badge. “Midori— Really? Your name is the colour of your skin?”

“Bakugo.” Kira presses.

“That’s my Japanese name, my real name’s Timothy.” Midori sasses back, pink glare venomous.

“Timothy, huh?” Katsuki tests the name on his tongue, gauges Midori’s reaction to the pronunciation; the other man seems to soften a little.

“Bakugo.”

“Just use Timothy—“

“Bakugo, focus!” Kira borderline barks in his ear.

“Right, yeah, sorry, I’m here.” Katsuki sighs, looking up at the puffy white- grey clouds overhead.

“We have to reschedule for tomorrow,” Kira sighs, probably doing that thing where she pushes her glasses up and pinches the bridge of her nose. “She’s heading to the coast, though, so you’re gonna have to—“

Kira wants him to what?

His semi-sunny disposition sours. “I can’t do that.”

“Bakugo.”

“Kira,” he starts, feeling his blood pressure rise along with the octave of his voice. He glances down at Mido—Timothy, tries to control his volume. “I’m on patrol shifts this week, I can’t do that.”

He can’t let Izuku or Shouto or Ochako down. That, and he can’t think of a good excuse to be heading to the coast.

“No, you’re right. It’d be better if she could meet you halfway or something.” Kira sighs, conceding a little.

He drops his chin, focuses that glare of his at the pavement next to Timothy. “Not half way—”

“Oh, ouch, are you okay?” Pink rain boots step into his vision, and when he looks up, you’re smiling down at him. He just… stares stupidly up at you, feels something warm and wet drip over his lip as your eyes widen. “You’re bleeding, Bakugo.”

“Shit,” he turns away from you, swipes at the wetness of his upper lip, knowing he’s probably just spreading it.

“Here,” you gently bully his hand away from his face, dab at him with something damp and smelling of coconut. It takes a moment for him to register that you’re sitting next to him, wiping at him like a nurse while the god damn EMT is kneeling at his feet, and Kira is screaming for his attention in his ear.

Without even thinking, he ends that call, silences his earphones on his smartwatch.

“You’ve got your work boots on,” he starts, wary. “You on the clock?”

“Oh, I had a thing a few blocks away, and heard my new favourite hero apprehended some bad guy in the same district.” Your focus isn’t on him, you’re in your handbag, fussing around with wet wipes and a little plastic bag and a handkerchief.

“So, you came for a walk?” He asks, staring. Staring because seeing you on social media is vastly different to seeing you in person, and so close. He could count your lashes, could reach out and test the softness of your skin, your glossy lips—

“Yep.” You grin, looking up and meeting his eyes.

It’s a spark— the same one from the corner store— and it pulls deep in his chest, your beauty and charm and the peace you bring almost overwhelming, yet entirely endearing—

“Hey— sorry, I know this is a wrong place, wrong time type thing,” Timothy stands up, fishes his phone out of his pocket, your spell broken as you both look up at him. “But I’m a huge fan,”

“Of me?” You chirp, surprised. And it takes Katsuki a moment, because usually it’s him being approached with nervous apprehension.

“Yeah, who else?”

You send a sideways glance to Katsuki, “uh, the actual top ten hero in our midst?”

“The top ten hero doesn’t look good in a swimsuit.” Katsuki says under his breath, and you giggle while Timothy pales.

“I’m sure you do,” you whisper back to him, before standing up. “Alright, sure, a selfie?” You ask, all of your attention on Timothy, who smiles at you, his pink irises akin to sparkling hearts; and much to his horror, Katsuki feels like he wants to steal you away from him.

“S-sounds good to me,” Timothy stammers, just as enamoured as Katsuki feels.

“‘Kay,” you agree, smile big and bright and Katsuki has to look away or he might get giddy by proxy. Timothy’s cheeks flush when you stand close—too close, probably— and you direct him into taking a few pics, before making him show you each of them, your nose scrunching as you scrutinise each one.

“Why does my nose look like that?” You frown at the EMT, a little wounded kitty.

“You look great though! You don’t mind if I post it to social media?” He asks, and Katsuki resists an eye roll.

“Of course not! Make sure to tag me so I can follow you back.”

Katsuki stands, hands on his hips. “Perfect, are you done? We’re busy.” He means to say that he’s busy, and he also means to glare at both of you, but it just doesn’t pan out that way. So, he runs with it, throws caution to the wind, and offers his hand to you.

All to quickly, he’s got anxiety nibbling at his heels— the fear of rejection, of ‘am i doing too much too quickly?’ of ‘should I be going off script just because you are?’. It sets in, and almost sends him spiralling. Almost, is the key, though, because before that little beast can sink its teeth into him, you’re taking his hand, practically skipping to his side, and beaming that too-brilliant smile up at him.

“I know a cafe,” you say, waving that pesky EMT off and almost pulling him away from the little crowd Katsuki’s pretending not to notice.

“I bet you do,” he can’t help but look at you— and it feels so schoolboy, and too soon, and off script— and he can’t help but get swept away in the ease at which you flow.

“We can share a parfait,” you lean into him with a little smile, whisper it like a secret. Your arm links around his then, and you lean against his bicep, look up at him through your lashes like a Disney branded cherub.

“Bet you’ll eat the cherry,” he snickers, trying to gain the upper hand, trying to gauge whether or not you’re getting swept up in him, too, because this… this thing isn’t natural, isn’t created from a want, but a need, a contract—

“Silly,” you pull away a bit and pout, “we’ll get two cherries.” And, fuck, you’re pretty. Pretty in all of the ways he loves, like the Commission have his tastes on file. You’re kind where he’s mean, and fun where he’s serious, edges soft where his are hard.

The seed of doubt’s been planted, though, because he can feel himself closing up, shutting down. Even though he’d love to stay in this flirtatious little moment with you, soak up all that attention you’re showering him with, he needs to be realistic— is wired to do so.

You’re acting.

He’s acting.

At least, he’s supposed to be

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mybigbangacademia #atmospheric fic #panzer.writing #leese writes

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spidrstar · 9 months

Text

A LITTLE BIT MORE

★ pairing: aged up!miles1610 x latina!reader

★ warnings: all characters in this story are 18!!! suggestive i think?

★ summary: Miles has been your math tutor for the past few months and you can’t lie, he’s been sort of your lil bestfriend too because you tell him all about your boy problems and everything. It got to a certain point where you were about to let something personal slip.. specifically how you didn’t know how to kiss. Miles may be a lil nerd n a tutor n all but he still gets play, so you asked him to show you how to kiss and it slowly turned into more than that.. a make out session.

★ w/c: 2k

★ a/n: ok so ik i put up a poll for y’all to choose but.. i rly wanted to write abt 1610 miles esp for this one shot 😣 sry yall i got yall w the next one shot tho trust🙏

“Miles, please don’t make me do this problem on my own.. you know how I am with fractions.”

You groaned at just the sight of the problem and leaned back on your arms.

For context, you were currently in Miles’ room with three different text books sprawled out open on the floor. He’s been your math tutor for the past four months because you failed your last two math classes and couldn’t afford to fail one more because that would cause you to fail the grade. Today, you were both going over things that were going to be in your test at the end of the marking period.

You’ve been studying non-stop all week and grew tired of it (even though all you mostly did was get off topic and have endless conversations with Miles.)

“Y/n, c‘mon you can’t do this every time i’m tutoring you. Just try.” Miles smiled at your reaction to the math problems in the book.

“Can we please just take a small break?”

“..Y/n our last break was 5 minutes ago.”

“Exactly my point!! It’s been too long.”

He chuckled at you and had no choice but to give in. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy the silly conversations you both had. You both saw each other as.. you wouldn’t say therapists but more of a.. comfort friend? Just someone you could talk to freely basically. At this point you were practically each others best friend, you just hadn’t noticed it yet.

Miles always enjoyed your company, no matter what you both were doing as long as it was together. You rarely ever hung out together if it wasn’t involved with tutoring, but that wasn’t a bad thing. You would almost get tutored everyday because math just really wasn’t something you were good at..

“Soo.. what’s with you and that guy what was his name.. Ethan?”

“It’s Evan, and we fell out. I found him talking to two of my friends at the same time and I wasn't gonna stay around to see that unfold. I told them of course, just didn’t wanna be there to witness the outcome.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, Miles knew your situation with guys very very well. He knew almost all of the guys you messed around with, well.. weren’t the best. If he was honest, they sucked ass. They all seemed to go after you for one thing, your body. Miles always hated the idea of you talking to another guy, not in a weird or possessive way of course, he was just over protective of you. He always remembers the nights you would text him asking him if he was free just to cry in his arms.

Sometimes you would come in all moody to your study sessions too and for you that was off, because when you opened your mouth it never seemed to shut.

He palmed his face and sighed in disappointment of yet another shitty guy you messed with.

“I told you he seemed off. He was wayy too friendly for a guy that ‘only wanted to be with you’ I never trusted him and i’m proud to say i didn’t.” Miles quoted with his fingers.

You smiled and looked down at the floor deep in thought, “Yeah well, he was ugly anyways. Personality wise too, he never really made me laugh. When I did laugh around him I would laugh at him, not with him. Y’know?”

“Yeah, I would notice. Your laughs never seemed genuine around him.” He shrugged.

You smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s ‘genuine’ to you?”

Miles leaned in and placed his palms on his knees looking up at the ceiling thinking of what to say.

“Like.. it’s hard to explain. Around me, your laughs just have a higher pitch and you lose your breath much quicker and you make random sounds while laughing which is what gets me to laugh. Then, around him your laughs were like so motone and you didn’t really hold onto your stomach as if it hurt from laughing so much, you get me?”

You stared at him in disbelief from how much he went into detail, you never thought of how much he really paid attention to you. Your face was a little bright red, you were flustered because you just felt so.. special? The feeling was unknown.

“Wow.. that’s—that’s a lot. I get what you mean though, his jokes were never as funny as yours were. You don’t even have to try to make me laugh.” You smiled.

He smiled back and made a proud expression, you knew what was coming next. Miles always made this face when he was about to brag about something.

“Thank you, I get that a lot from girls. I always make sure to keep them entertained and never treat them like shit. I don’t understand how you manage to find guys like that, I would never do what they do. Pretty sure my ma would kill me.” He chuckled at the last sentence.

You rolled your eyes at the bragging, you knew Miles had game and had many many girls falling for him. I mean, who wouldn't fall for him? Look at him, he has a great personality, he's caring, a momma's boy which, by the way, is totally adorable and he’s just so sweet and genuine. His smile was contagious and he was attractive too of course..

You snapped back to reality, your mind wandering off somewhere else.

“Bet you got lots of bitches huh.” You choke out a laugh trying to ignore the thoughts lingering at the back of your head.

“Nah, it may seem that way but I honestly got my eye set on one girl. I’m not bout that ‘playa’ shit y’know? Gotta keep it real and let ‘em know that cause leading people on ain’t what i’m about.”

You looked at him intensely, really wondering who this girl was. Although you felt the urge to beg him to tell you because you knew how stubborn he was, you didn’t. You were scared you weren’t gonna like his answer so you brushed the feeling aside.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself (barely) you had feelings for Miles, you weren’t aware of it until about a month ago when you went on countless dates. On every single one, Miles was in your head and you couldn’t seem to focus on the person in front of you.

“That’s surprising, if you’re not a player like you say you aren’t how do you treat your girls?” You quickly switched the topic and switched the rolls.

“Well, ion be messin’ around with other girls or on that friendly shit y’know? Every chance I get ima flaunt my girl like she’s the lottery.” He smiled proudly.

You scoffed in jealousy. “Wow, I wish there were more guys like you shit ONE like you at least.”

Miles blushed a bit at the way you said you wanted someone like him. He quickly recovered and perked a brow, scoffing with a proud expression.

“Yeah well, I'm one of one. Can’t find anyone like me.”

“I just can’t believe it, I haven’t even been with one guy who’s good enough to show me how to-“

You quickly saved yourself from the embarrassment and threw your hands over your mouth. Miles took notice of this and he raised a brow at you and moved slightly closer.

“Show you how to what?” He asked, smirking only slightly.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you covered your face and grumbled from already feeling embarrassed even though you hadn’t even told him yet. You hid yourself in your knees not wanting to face him.

“C’mon I promise I won't laugh!” He begged.

“Yes you will! I know you!”

“I swear on my pet hamster's life I won't.” He spoke seriously.

You looked up a bit, sighing and agreeing to say what was on your mind, you had always been ashamed of it because you never really kissed just anyone. You wanted it to be special, of course you’ve kissed a few but your old self thought they were special when they weren’t.

“F-Fine. I—I..don’t know how to kiss.” You whispered the last part lowly, too embarrassed to say it outloud.

“A lil louder than that Y/n, it’s just you and me here c’mon.” He sweetly smiled at you placing a hand on your back.

“I don’t know how to kiss.” You said bluntly, looking straight to avoid his striking gaze.

All that could be heard were stifled chuckles and you turned to stare at the culprit, Miles was cupping his mouth with both hands trying not to burst out laughing straight in your face. You smacked the back of his head and scolded him for swearing.

“Miles! You swore on your hamster's life!”

Laughter erupted from him and could be heard loudly throughout the room. Soon he calmed down and collected enough breath to speak.

“He died like a week ago, it's fine.”

“What?! And you didn’t tell me?? Tu si eres malo.”

“Whatever, back on topic. You don’t know how to kiss? How? You’re like, genuinely one of the prettiest girls I know.”

You blushed at both the comment and from embarrassment. You were 18 almost 19 and didn’t even know how to properly have a make out session, not that it was your fault. All the guys you messed with genuinely sucked, and your lips were far too precious for you to just place them on anyone.

“Hey! No es culpa mía, i bet you’re not even good at kissing either.” I huffed angrily.

“Actually, I'm quite known for being a great kisser para tu información.” He admitted proudly.

Then, an idea spiked up in your head. He was your best friend.. you think? Might as well take this perfect opportunity to ask him for a favor, a huge one. This had you nervous though, because it could go two ways. He would say yes and show you and you both would continue to live your lives as if nothing happened, as normal friends right? Or.. you would be embarrassed for the rest of it if he said no. How would you recover from that? Whatever.. might as well do it now and pray nothing bad happened.

“Miles?” You finally spoke, with a serious tone hiding behind your words.

“Yes?”

“Could you.. um—do me a favor?” You spoke shyly, a wave of nervousness was coming at you and strong.

“Depends. What is it?” He spoke more lowly now with curiosity, he subconsciously moved closer to you to hear you clearly. In case you’d decided to whisper again since that was a habit.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to become. This determined whether or not you would ever talk to him or see him the same, you seriously thought you wouldn’t be able to recover from this.

“Could you..maybe.. teach me?” You looked down at the floor again, biting the inner corner of the inside of your cheek. You were slightly sweating from how nervous you were.

A few seconds of silence passed before you looked up nervously. Many thoughts racing in your mind right now;

‘What if he was making fun of me in his head right now?’

‘What if he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore?’

‘What if he thought I was weird?’

‘What if he hates me now?’

Your thoughts were quickly put to a pause when he spoke up, you thought you were dreaming when you heard the words escape his mouth.

“Sure, I’ll teach you. But are you sure like, completely sure you wanna do this? I’m kinda rough with it, and i don’t know if you’d like it.” He spoke softly when looking at you.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting your eyes and nodding. You smiled sweetly at him, your heart speeding up with a hint of excitement. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about kissing Miles at least once.

“Yes, I'm sure.” You stared at his eyes then his lips wide eyed, your eyes glistening with anticipation. Your lips were slightly parted as you oh so wanted to lean in and just kiss his pretty lips already, but you waited for him to instruct you on what to do.

He moved closer to you and sat in front of you staring at you with slightly hooded eyes. He smirked as he spoke and that’s all you seemed to notice.

“Alright, first you needa part your lips slightly which i see you’re already doing. Then, you just tilt your head to whichever side you prefer and lean in. Close your eyes obviously, then just follow my lead. Simple, you got it?”

You nodded once again, and blushed lightly as he leaned in closer. His hand made his way up and he gently placed it on the side of your neck and tilted his own head shutting his eyes to kiss you.

“Alright, here we go..” He whispered.

With that, he kissed you gently. His soft lips locked with yours, surprisingly you seemed to follow along quickly and placed one of your hands on his toned chest. Your breaths seemed to quicken with every second that passed and he started to lean in more, this time you were slightly pushed back. You held onto the front of his shirt pulling him down with you. Your forearms supporting your upper weight as you laid back on the floor.

Miles now completely on top of you deepened the kiss, his tongue softly grazed against your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you complied to. He placed his hand back on your neck, his fingers resting on the bottom part of your lower head pushing you against him more. You let a low moan slip past you and you opened your eyes wide, with shock but quickly closed them back up once you heard the sounds he made.

The ‘agressiveness’ he mentioned now showing as low growls escaped his lips when getting a few seconds to breathe between kisses. His tongue fighting with yours for dominance which he quickly claimed.

He broke the kiss, a string of saliva showcasing how intense the kiss was. He smirked against your lips and you both breathed heavily against each other, chests heaving up and down rapidly. He caressed the sides of your waist slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt and leaned in to seductively whisper in your ear.

“I think I'm gonna have to teach you a little bit more than just kissing, ma.” He smirked.

★ translations: tu si eres malo - you’re so mean || no es culpa mía - it’s not my fault || para tu información - for your information ||

TAGS:

#across the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales #spider man #spiderman #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles x you #miles morales x you #miles x y/n #miles x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman atsv #spider man into the spider verse #into the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #STAR★WRITES

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littlexscarletxwitch · 8 months

Text

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗻𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹

paring: yelena belova x fem!reader

tag(s): nsfw, smut with no plot, needy yel

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit wlw smut, wlw sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, kinda public sex, kinda cnc, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 2.6k

requested?: yes, you can find the request right here

note: The winner of the poll is hereeee!! Nonnieeee, it's finally here! I really hope you like it, it was so thrilling to write this lol. Thank you, anon, for this request ily. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Love you, guys <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

Yelena squinted her left eye as the other one adjusted her vision through her rifle's sight.

Her mind was set on one thing only, and that was the man she was currently staring at. She didn’t know who he was, she was barely given his name and the place where she and her team would find him and that was the end of the story. She didn’t need to know more, nor that they would have let her either way.

She was supposed to take him out, making it look like an accident, a shooting, a terrorist attack. The Red Room didn’t care how, they just wanted him out of the picture and that was exactly what she was going to do.

Yelena didn’t know what she was doing, well, technically she did. But she wasn’t aware of it. She was one of the first subjects to have been tested the mind control gas on and now she had lost all senses of a moral compass. Her mind was completely clouded, full of her own thoughts but her mind wouldn’t listen to them. Her mind listened to The Red Room and did as she was told to.

“I’ve got eyes on the target,” she muttered, her voice being picked up by her team through her earpiece. “Where are my explosives?”

“We’re almost done.”

“Come on, guys. He’s about to leave, we have to be quick,” she said anxiously.

When she was given her target’s file, she was instructed to memorise his routine. The man woke up at 7am, left for work at 8. On mondays he would go out for lunch, on tuesdays he would just order something to have it delivered at work. At 7pm he would be ready to go back home, but before that he would always stop at his local cafe. It was now Yelena realised that he always did so so she could see the lovely waitress tending to his table.

And any minute now he was going to walk out the door and Yelena would pull the trigger, the bombs would go off at her command, distracting everyone and she could get a clean shot. At night the local news would communicate the tragedy, her target being the only casualty and she was sure they would claim it to be a terrorist attack or something similar, still she did not care.

“Guys, hurry the fuck up!” she couldn’t fail this mission, they couldn't fail or they will all face the consequences.

“We’re done, bombs are to explode in minus 2 minutes.”

“Roger that, let’s get this over with,” she said, adjusting her rifle aiming right at her target.

She was already annoyed, she appreciated the fact that being hidden on the rooftop of a building meant none of her partners could see her. She was almost going to lose it. Things didn't go as smoothly as she had planned but it was fine, she wouldn't fail them.

An explosion was heard a couple of metres away from her, people started shouting and running in fear afraid for their lives. Yelena watched as her target did the same, she could tell he was terrified, his eyes were wide open in horror.

She was ready to finally pull the trigger when something else got her whole attention —you.

You were running back and forth, helping people up, getting them to a safe place. She could tell you were worried and afraid, and your forehead was slightly bleeding, but that didn’t stop you from helping as many as you could. Her brows furrowed as she stared at you, her heart sinking into her tummy, her heartbeat speeding up and it felt as if someone was hammering her brain.

“Yelena, status on target,” the voice took her out of her thoughts, burying all the new emotions deep down inside.

“I’m on it,” she said, once again adjusting her rifle, this time there won’t be any inconveniences.

But she was wrong. Another bomb went off, this time a car set on fire, and you were right there watching the whole thing. You cried out loud, scared for your life. But you weren’t alone, the target was right beside you. She couldn't take a shot while you were right there. There wasn’t supposed to be any collateral damage, that was how Widows did things, the only casualty being the one who they were supposed to take out.

“Fuck!” she needed to get you out of there.

“Yelena, what’s—?”

“Lerato, I’m gonna need you to take my spot. Take him out.”

“What? But you are—”

“Do as you are told, I’ve got something to deal with,” she said, leaving the rifle on the rooftop for her partner to find.

Her eyes were set on you as she ran down to meet you. She didn’t think twice and just grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her. You were so shaken that you didn’t realise you were being pulled away by a stranger until the both of you started running away.

“What are you—? Who are you?” but Yelena wouldn’t answer you. “Hey! No, stop! Please, don’t take me. Please!”

“Just keep going,” she said, getting a firm grip on you, scared that you would run away.

The two of you stopped five blocks away from the chaos, she gently pushed you inside an abandoned building.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, not waiting for you to freak out even more.

“I, I— I can’t breathe,” you said, gasping for air.

“Hey, it’s okay. You are safe now, it’s okay,” she got closer to you, reaching for your hand and resting it on her steady heartbeat. “Here. Focus on my heart, try to steady yours.”

“I can’t—,”

“It’s okay, just breathe,” she motioned for you to copy her as she took a deep breath in and then she breathed out.

After a minute of breathing in and out, you felt your heart beating at a regular pace again. Still you were scared of what you had just witnessed and being alone with a stranger didn’t make things better.

You cleared your throat, “why did you take me?” you ask carefully.

Her green eyes found yours, her brows were slightly burrowed. She was lost in her mind, going over the last few minutes and everything that had happened before she took you away. She didn’t know why she did that. She could have had someone take you away and she could have taken the shot. But for some reason she couldn’t quite explain, she didn’t.

She didn’t take her eyes away from you but still she didn’t answer your question.

“Lerato, did you take the shot?”

“Yes, the target's dead. Just got confirmation from Helen. We’re heading back,” she heard as the girl struggled to breathe. She was probably running. “Where are you, Yel—?”

Before she could finish, Yelena took the earpiece out, throwing it to the ground and stepping on it, losing all sort of communication with her team. Something she will regret later but now she wasn't thinking properly.

“Shot? What are you talking about? Who are you?” your tone was filled with worry and fear.

“It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise,” she smiled at you, trying to comfort you.

“What’s going on? I don’t, I don’t understand…” you sounded desperate. And you were, a fucking car exploded right in front of you, you were about to lost your shit again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered gettin closer to you. You could feel the warmth radiating from her body. “This doesn’t make any sense, I know, I’m sorry,” she dropped the tough act, wanting to be as gentle as she could with you.

“What are you—?” you swallowed hard as you watched her tug a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I just,” she licked her lips, your eyes watching her carefully. “There’s something a need to do.”

The closer Yelena got to you, the more she felt like herself again. There was something about you that just felt right. She couldn’t put her finger around it, but she felt good, you felt good and she wanted more of that. She needed more of that, of you.

Slowly but surely her lips found the soft skin of your neck, you let out a moan as soon as she made contact. You lost all sense of reality for a few seconds as she bit and kissed your sensitive skin. But then you came back to your senses and pushed her away from you.

“No. Don’t…” you said, but deep down you wanted to eat your words. “Who are you? What is this?

Yelena backed up, confusion written all over her face as she also didn’t quite know what was going on with her.

“I don’t know either, okay? This has never happened to me before but… Look, I don’t have much time, they’re probably already looking for me—.”

“Looking for you?”

She nodded, “You are doing something to me, alright? I don’t know what it is, I’m not in control,” you noticed her breathing was getting heavy. “You are doing something to me, and I— I need you…”

“You need me?”

“Will you help me out?”

“I, I don’t under—.”

“It’s okay, just do as I tell you, okay?” her voice was so soft that you just couldn’t deny her.

You could only nod at her, getting lost on her mesmerising bright eyes. Her lips found yours, in a desperate kiss, tongues fighting one against the other, her teeth bit your bottom lip, moans escaping from the both of you. You felt your body warming up under her touch and felt your tummy setting on fire as her finger squeezed the flesh on your waist.

She pressed her chest into yours, making you take a few steps back and finally you hit the cold wall, a shiver crawled up your spine. Yelena slipped her knee in between your already slightly parted thighs and gently pressed it against your clothed core.

Her fingers traced the curve of your ass to finally get into your panties, you were already wet for her and she had barely touched you. She felt like she could get used to this, to you. Seeking for both comfort and pleasure in each other, two things The Red Room had taken away from her. But maybe, with your help she could get that and more back. You groaned into her lips the moment she pushed two of her fingers inside of you.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

“You like that?”

“Yeah. Don’t stop, please,” your hips moved into her fingers, wanting her to keep on thrusting them in and out of you.

“I won’t.”

Soon enough her fingers picked up their pace and the only thing that could be her was Yelena’s finger sloppily thrusting into your cunt and the loud moans coming out of your mouth, which were quickly silenced by Yelena’s lips.

You had just met the woman and she had you almost falling to your knees. You could feel it too, she was different than any other person you had ever met before. It was as if she was intoxicating, and the only thing you wanted at the moment was to get drunk on her.

“Faster, please.”

And she did as told, like she always had. But this time she felt like she had a choice, and she chose to please you, she didn’t mind being at your mercy. She could tell you were close to your release, so she got on her knees, took your trousers and panties down and pressed her lips to your soaking wet cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned out, your hand reaching out for her shoulder in some kind of support.

She bit, licked, sucked and kissed your core like a starved woman, which she was actually. She could count with her fingers all the times she had been intimate with someone else in The Red Room. She didn’t have time for things like this in there, she barely had time to take a breath.

So she enjoyed this, eating you out, getting whimpers and groans out of your pretty lips, making your legs tremble. She slipped her tongue inside of you, her nose hitting your clit and you felt like it was all becoming too much for you to handle. She felt your nails digging into her shoulders and then a second later you cried out, getting your juices all over Yelena’s lips.

Yelena moaned into your cunt and she sucked all of your juices, not wanting nor even one bit to go to waist. Once she was done, she pulled your trousers and panties back up, stood up and crashed her lips into yours, wanting for you to have a taste of yourself as well.

Your legs literally gave up on you as she kissed you, and then your butt hit the ground. Yelena took that opportunity and decided you needed to return the favour. So as best as she could, she took part of her suit off for you to work her magic on her cunt.

Yelena knew that she wasn’t going to last long, she was already so wet and on edge, she just needed some of your help to finally come. She knew you had to be quick for her to get her sweet release, so without a warning she pushed your head in between her thighs and soon enough she felt your lips beginning to work. You pushed two fingers inside of her while you sucked on her clit.

She could feel her orgasm getting closer, it was a shame she couldn’t keep this going on for a while more, but any minute now her team would be on her ass.

“Fuck, keep going,” she had your hair on her fist, helping you out.

Yelena buck her hips into your lips picking the pace and with a loud ‘fuck’ she came onto your lips. It was as if she was on cloud 9, she had never felt something like this before, not even with those few girls in The Red Room. This was new and thrilling, and she felt more like herself again. Like that little girl who was once free and unaware of the danger she was getting into. She felt like she belonged. But soon enough the happy bubble she had created for the two of you popped.

“I need you to listen carefully, okay?” she said, helping you up on your feet while the two of you tried to catch your breaths. She quickly put back her suit and cupped your cheeks to get your attention. “You need to leave. Run, run as fast as you can. Don’t look back.”

From the corner of her eyes Yelena could see some shadows getting closer, her team was there, ready to take her away.

“What? What about you? Where are you going?” your mind was rushing with thoughts, not wanting to leave the beautiful woman.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” she lied, but it was for the better. She needed you to be okay, she could handle The Red Room, she always had.

“No,” you protested. “Don’t leave me,” you felt tears burning your eyes.

“I’ll find you again, I promise,” she caressed your cheek one last time, leaving a peck on the corner of your lips. “Go!” she ordered you.

And so you did, leaving Yelena behind much to your dismay, unaware that she was being taken back by her team to drug her up once again. But you broke her out of the mind control, and Yelena was sure you would do it one more time. And as many times as it’d take for her to be free.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x fem reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova smut #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’#littlexscarletxwitch's fic

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