#i wish i could have gotten a recording of his voice from when he was healthy though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kennahjune · 7 months

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Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #corroded coffin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steddie #steve harrington whump #steve harrington gets killer migraines #the boy has 3 and counting concussions

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odoraful · 3 months

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𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒

characters: diluc, wanderer, childe content: sfw, modern au, established relationship, fluff !! a/n: i was scouring pinterest looking the most fitting inspo rooms for each of them hehe

Diluc

Your shared home is an old-fashioned but charming house with a tiled roof and a brick archway leading to the entrance of the door. Diluc has a good eye for style — all the furniture pieces you select together are warm and elegant, perfectly matching with the vintage style home.

He’s a bit of a craftsman, and when you moved in he custom built bookshelves just for you. Your house has traces of Diluc’s handiwork: a wooden tissue box cover, tile coasters, a ceramic chess set.

Being a peak acts of service man, if he notices that there’s something inconveniencing you that can be mended, he’ll try to find a way to fix it. That wooden chair that wobbled yesterday when you sat down on it? The next day, it’s miraculously levelled. Always struggling to find your keys before you leave the house? There are now little hooks on the wall where you can easily hang them. He doesn’t make a huge show of it, but you’ll always kiss him on the cheek and say that you should repay him with something.

“There’s no need. Seeing you happy is more than enough for me.” He replies, running a hand through his hair, the tips of his ears turning red.

The house is IMPECCABLY cleaned — the chores are shared out between the two of you, and the both of you work like a well-oiled machine. He’ll insist that you shouldn’t carry anything too heavy though! He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself :(

One of the things that Diluc wouldn’t ever trade is getting the chance to cuddle with you in the evening on the couch. He’ll let you play with his hair and try out different styles, comforted by the feeling of your fingers running through it.

Sometimes, he’ll come home late from work tired and perhaps a bit grumpy, but the sight of you will change his mood completely.

At the sound of jangling keys and the front door creaking shut, you rush out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

“(Y/N), I’m home!” You hear Diluc’s voice call out to you.

The day had felt far too long for him, and with far too many headaches for him to deal with. The only thing that he looked forward to at the end of it all was to see you again.

Hearing the patter of your slippers, he looks up. It takes everything within him to keep composed at your appearance. Having just gotten out of a hot shower, your cheeks were tinted pink, hair still damp and slicked. Diluc’s eyes trailed to your clothes, a matching pair of flannel shirt and shorts. He loosens his tie, suddenly finding his breath stuck in his throat. It baffled him how gorgeous you were even in pyjamas.

Wordlessly, he reaches towards you. You look down at his hands and see as they fasten the remaining top two buttons of your sleeping shirt. In your hurry to greet him at the door, you forgot to dress properly.

“I can’t believe I missed that...” You sheepishly say, observing his hands as they linger on your shirt. Your senses told you something was off. “Did you have troubles at work today?”

The worry in your eyes melts his heart. Of course you were the one to peer through him and know exactly how he was feeling.

“A few clientele at the bar today were-” He sighs, still fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt, recalling the events of the day, “-difficult to manage to say the least.” He lifts his head to meet his gaze. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

Your arms instinctually wrap around him and he collapses into them. Tightening your embrace, he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Diluc, I just took a shower.” You say with a light giggle, trying to pull your hair away from his face.

He feels your breath close to his ear and he wishes he could have recorded that laugh for himself to hear it over and over again.

“I could tell.” He breathes deeply. “Is this a new shampoo?”

“Well yes, but what I meant from that is that my hair is still wet!”

You feel him smile against you. “It doesn’t bother me. Just a few more seconds, please. I need to recharge.”

Wanderer

You share an apartment together since you travel to and from the same university. Although you’re studying different degrees and have different schedules, you’ll both make an effort to spend time together at home during the weekdays.

You and Wanderer leave little notes cheering each other on and stick them to the walls or the fridge before you leave, or sneak them into pencil cases or onto laptop screens. He has a small box on his desk where he collects all your notes, neatly folding them up to preserve them.

Wanderer enjoys having the home quite minimalist. Just the essentials will do, but the two of you do splurge a bit more on your study space — the comfiest chairs, wide desks, tactile keyboards — anything to liven up having to do assignments all the time.

When you’re feeling too tired or distracted from your own studies, you’ll walk over to his desk and try to sit on his lap while he works. He’ll attempt to exert some self-control and reject your wishes, but eventually gives in after seeing your pout.

“Just because you’re distracted doesn’t give you any right to bother me.” He grumbles, resting his chin on your head.

He warns you that if you do decide to put plants in the house, you are responsible for them. Little do you know that he’s secretly also invested in their health. On mornings when you’re in a rush and forget to water them, he’ll spritz them with your spray bottle thinking to himself: If you died (Y/N) would be devastated, so don’t even think about it.

His favourite room is the bedroom. It’s a place for both of you to escape the stresses of being a student and relax together.

The alarm clock beeps and you wiggle in bed, reaching over a hand to quickly silence it. Bright sun filters in through the curtains, its light diffusing into the room.

You force your eyes open and sit up, your body bent over like a crooked branch. Movement beside you pulls your attention as Wanderer shifts in his sleep. You can’t deny how pretty he looks even at rest. His long lashes fanned out under closed eyes, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath. His expression is that of pure peace. You know that’ll soon disappear when you both need to properly wake up and prepare for classes.

“Hey, it’s time to wake up,” you whisper, carefully coaxing him from slumber.

Wanderer opens his bleary eyes ever so slightly, then immediately closes them. He mumbles something of refusal. You roll your eyes in resignation. When it comes to sleep, he acts like a child sometimes. You turn to get out of bed.

Two arms wrap around your waist and yank you back. You stumble into the sheets with a yelp. Wanderer adjusts the blanket over you and pulls you closer to him with one hand.

“Not yet.” His voice is low and scratchy, his words slurred. “Want more time in bed… with you.”

You sigh softly, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair to detangle it. “You do this almost every morning. You’re never going to attend your lectures on time.”

He replies by nuzzling into your neck, and you hear nothing but his slow breaths. His peers would have sooner called identity fraud than believe the stony and scholarly Wanderer to be this clingy and affectionate in the morning. However, in the privacy of just you, it’s become easy for him to let down his guard.

“Don’t try to get out of this by pretending to be asleep.” You say, deadpan.

There’s a stutter in his breathing as you catch his obvious charade.

“Stop worrying. I’ll just watch the recording.” He finally responds.

You realise in a fluster just how close your faces are, barely inches apart. As if sensing this, Wanderer opens his eyes once again, this time there’s a glint of mischief in them.

He taps his forehead lightly against your own. “And besides, why would I want to spend my mornings in a noisy lecture hall when I can be with you in peace and quiet?”

Childe

You’ve been living together for a while now, and your home has transformed into what can only be described as organised chaos.

If Childe kept up with his interior designing eagerness, it would have been complete maximalism, but you were there to contain his excitement and still ensure your home was still practical.

The two of you love collecting pillows, plushies and blankets, which adds even more to the cosiness! However, one day you tried to sit down on the couch and realised it was more pillows than actual seat space. In a fit of laughter, you and Childe ruled that you would rotate between different cushions every so often so you could get your couch back.

Childe will still come home with flowers or sweets (sometimes both) as gifts for you on random nights. He’ll stand on the doorstep looking like a lovesick teenage boy asking his crush out on a date. Taking them from his hands, you’ll ask what the occasion is.

“Well, there isn’t a particular occasion.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Celebrating you should be an everyday thing.”

Board game nights are taken very seriously. You have a bookshelf filled with different types of them. Whether it’s a classic game of UNO or Jenga, or something a little more strategic, he's always hyper-competitive. You also have special punishments for if one of you loses, which are harmless but maybe a little embarrassing (One of his favourite punishments for you is ‘For the entire day tomorrow, Childe will only call (Y/N) by the cheesiest pet names’).

MASSIVE kitchen since he loves to cook. He keeps a book of recipes from his mum and has since added new ones of his own that he has shared with you.

“Could you come over here, baby?”

You follow your partner’s voice and the scent of something freshly baked into the kitchen.

Childe is standing behind the counter, his face in deep focus. He takes one of an array of heart-shaped biscuits and dips half of it in a bowl of chocolate before placing it on a lined baking sheet. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up, exposing his forearms. His muscular build is sharply juxtaposed by the cream-coloured apron tied around himself, which has a little teddy bear embroidered in its centre.

You approach the kitchen bench, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are they ready yet? Can I try one?” You eagerly ask.

“Not quite, I need help dipping the rest of these into chocolate.” He stretches his arms out in front of him, shaking the tension out of them.

“That being said,” he grins, extending a hand towards you across the kitchen bench as an offer, “would you do me the honour of being my baking assistant for a little?”

Chuckling at his dramatics, you delicately place your hand in his like royalty. “I’d be delighted to help.”

Childe guides you to his side and helps you put on your apron. As he ties the strings together, he relays the instructions to you.

“You just need to dip half of the biscuit into chocolate, and then add some sprinkles on top before it sets.” He tightens the bow around your waist to secure it.

How hard could that be? You think, nodding along to his words.

Demoing an example, Childe deftly coats half of the biscuit. Angling it just right, the chocolate drips off and evens itself out, leaving a perfect covered half. After placing it on the tray and adding the finishing touch of sprinkles, he gestures for you to try it yourself.

You confidently take one biscuit and dunk it.

“Ah!”

Underestimating its consistency, when you lift the biscuit, the chocolate slowly spreads onto the other half of the heart and drips onto your fingers. You quickly place it onto the baking sheet. Childe stifles his laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“My one looks so much worse compared to yours…” you mutter, licking your fingers to remove the evidence of your unsuccessful attempt.

Seeing the frown on your face, he gently bumps your shoulder with his own in encouragement. “Don’t say that! I think your one has a lot more charm.” He says, adding the sprinkles onto your heart. “I’ll run some extra baking classes with you to build up your skills, how does that sound?”

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lilac-5ky · 1 year

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Sex with a Ghost (TojixFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Date with a ghost

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Summary: Being at the bottom of the ladder in your class with a non-combat oriented technique, you are prompted by Gojo to summon a dead sorcerer as a learning experience. However, when none other than Fushiguro Toji appears in your room, you find yourself practicing more than just your cursed technique.

Tags: Student!reader, Ghost!Toji, Age Gap(reader 18, Toji early 30s), Oral Sex (both f. and m. receiving), Manipulation, Corruption Kink, Praise, Degradation, Pet Names (princess, baby, etc), Cowgirl, Toji being a horny asshole that gets redeemed at the end? Sort of.

Word Count: less than 6k.

“But, sensei, is this really necessary?”

You tilted the sphere between your fingers, sizing it up. It weighed no more than a baseball ball did, yet its price must be comparable to that of an entire stadium. A cursed item among cursed items given to a mere grade 3 sorcerer who barely stood out amidst the renowned prodigies of Tokyo Jujutsu High. This was a waste of both time and effort and yet the white-haired man before you begged to differ, eyes glinting a vibrant sky-blue hue from underneath his dark shades.

“Doubting your favorite teacher, Y/N?” he chuckled only to sulk a second later when you asked him what deluded him into thinking he was your favorite.

Undeterred, he continued “I feel like a broken record here, but do yourself a favor and have a bit more confidence. Graduation is two months away, don’t you wanna prove your worth till then? It’s not too late to climb a couple of steps up the ladder. You could easily shoot up to Grade 2. Look at the rest of your class—”

A firm albeit reassuring grip latched itself onto your shoulder, gently twisting you in the direction of your classmates.

The heatwave must have gotten to them for good, blood boiling under the vicious sun rays. Their sleeves and pants were rolled high above their elbows and knees respectively, foreheads glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat that dribbled down their necks.

Just looking at them made your skin crawl with uneasiness.

You didn’t understand why anyone in their right mind would willingly trade the shade of these blessed pine trees for the scorching furnace that the schoolyard was, but when you stopped paying attention to their clothes and took in their blissful expression, you felt a lump swell in your throat.

The two of them were practically beaming, giggling, and prancing around the water fountains without a care in the world— and why should they have anything to worry about when they were Grade 1 at seventeen? A Kamo and a distant cousin to the Zen’ins, both guaranteed to walk a path strewn with rose petals since birth. No trial or tribulation whatsoever.

Your teacher’s voice was muffled into white noise while you were busy shooting daggers at the duo, part of you wishing to join them in their harmless idiocy, and another silently praying that in your next life, you’d be lucky enough to be born into one of their clans. No one questioned the value of a Kamo. No one went against a Zen’in with an inherited technique.

“So, we good? Tell me I didn’t waste 15 minutes of my precious time for nothing.” His fingers squeezed at your shoulder, causing your attention to shift.

You had no idea what he’d been saying, though you’d sat through plenty of pep talks already to guess the gist of it. “You have potential, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down like this. You can do it!” All empty words without real meaning. Worthless. Not everyone had what it takes to become the next Gojo Satoru. Some people were born to be stepping stones for others, and you were perfectly fine with it. No half-assed aspiration would spur you on.

“If I do this… will you leave me alone?”

A Cheshire cat grin spanned from one corner of his mouth to the other. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake Gojo for an overzealous teacher whose earnest goal was to see his students succeed. Not you. You’d spent enough time in his presence to know that his whole “Teacher of the Year” shtick hid an agenda of its own. It was a matter of time to find out what his true motive was.

“What’s the plan?”

“Now we are talking,” he sang in glee. “Very simple, really. You just hold this between your palms and channel as much cursed energy as possible to its center. The ball will absorb it like a magnet and continue drawing from you until you have a clear picture of your target. Then, assuming all goes well and you don’t pass out,” a quiet “What?!” was overwritten by his voice, “you’ll get your very own date with a spirit. Isn’t that exciting?”

Nothing about your expression screamed excitement, eyes squinting in slits and bottom lip quivering into a frown. “And who’s my target, exactly?”

“A Zen’in sorcerer,” he said.

“A Zen’in sorcerer you say,” your eyes wandered again to that soaked blockhead in the distance, the black mop he had for hair flapping left and right. “Ain’t the one over there good enough?”

Shaping a cone around his mouth, Gojo yelled at the top of his lungs for the kids to wait up so they could play together. The duo cheered excitedly, shouting some sort of inside joke you knew nothing about right back at him. Wasn’t the first time you were excluded, and it certainly wasn’t the first time you questioned how this man came to be the world’s most talented sorcerer, either.

“If he was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” his smile softened as he lowered his voice. “The Zen’in I’m talking about has been dead for a little more than a hundred years now. Unfortunately, his name is erased from our logs,” of course it is “but that shouldn’t hinder you too much. He was an immensely powerful sorcerer with a great amount of cursed energy to back his technique up. An anomaly, if you like.”

“What kind of technique?” “The ten shadows technique,” he answered. “Out of all the Shikigami users, he is perhaps the strongest there’s ever been.”

“Stronger than you, sensei?”

The way his nose scrunched made you regret asking, knowing that a haughty declaration was dangling from the tip of his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a never-ending spiel of self-praise.

“And why should I invoke him in particular?” you quickly changed the subject. “I thought our goal was to hone my spirit-channeling technique and increase my cursed energy flow while we’re at it.”

“That we are doin’, but why not kill two birds with one stone? A new ten-shadow user has risen. I’m sure whatever trick that old dog has up his sleeve will be useful to our little Meg—” He feigned a smile of innocence at his slip. “All you gotta do is chit-chat him into giving you some info. Toss in a few compliments, butter him up. Shouldn’t take more than a few words to convince him, spirits are dying to be summoned— Oh well, unfortunate choice of words. What do you say? You’re in?”

Your groan was all the answer he required to beeline straight to the water fountains, his chirpy laugh echoing from afar. This guy, you huffed, examining the crystal ball anew. There was no way out of this. Either you did his bidding or you’d be forced to endure the obnoxious sound of his voice all summer long.

“Couldn’t you have chosen anything more cliche than a crystal ball?” you snarled, convinced he hadn’t heard you.

“Ouija board was already taken,” he warbled unexpectedly, voice meshing with that of your peers as they ran around in circles, dark-colored uniforms turning darker with every splash of water. “Besides, this has a bit of pink in it,” he referred to the rosy shaded base. “Much cuter than a bunch of rusty letters, right?”

You groaned as you shoved the item into your tote bag, making no mistake to talk out loud again as you turned on your heel. A pinch of jealousy punctured your chest, relieved by every step you took away from the scene and away from the fun the three of them were having.

“Looks like we’re having a date with a ghost tonight.”

It was a quarter past twelve when you decided to put that little experiment to work, the coast clear of overbearing parents and annoying little brothers who wanted nothing more than to disrupt your so-called “studying session”. As far as your family was concerned, Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (Tokyo Jujutsu High for short) was your average educational institution that had somehow recognized the value of your mediocre grades and scouted you when you were still in middle school— no questions asked from either side.

You wouldn’t go as far as to call your own family a bunch of dimwits, but the signs were all there. A teacher merely four years older than you were, his odd sartorial decisions only second to his eccentric personality. A class made up of four students dramatically and suddenly decreasing to a party of three. An unknown man in a suit and tie driving you back and forth between “emergency study dates” in the dead of night. The lack of studying material in your backpack as opposed to the exams you constantly stressed over. Your unreasonable reaction when your mother stored a cursed tool in with the silver cutlery.

Even if you straight up walked to them with a banner that read “I exorcise curses”, you doubted they’d have anything more to say than a plain “Good for you”, not because they were stupid, but because they simply didn’t care at all.

They didn’t care enough to bat an eye when seven-year-old you tugged at daddy’s trousers, whimpering about a squid-like creature sneaking in your closet, and didn’t care enough to try and justify the stream of water flooding down the corridor. They didn’t care that your imaginary friends were more akin to monsters, and they didn’t care about you being away from home 350 days a year. It was convenient not to. That’s how they were able to drink their woes away at the local bar on a Thursday night with a clear conscience, having offloaded that pest of a brother at your grandparents’ for the fifth consecutive night.

Poor kid. If he wasn’t so despicable, your big sister instincts might have kicked in and raised an objection, though as things currently were suited you best. Rituals required focus, and you needed to make sure no one would bust through the door and interrupt your conversation with Mister Whatever-his-name-was.

You’d taken care of all your basic needs —eating a reheated portion of lasagna, cleansing your body of the worldly filth that stained it, catching a rerun of your favorite show’s latest episode, and cursing Gojo for making you miss it in the first place— and were now seated on your room’s floor with the crystal ball nesting between your bare thighs, the cold sensation much welcome on this excruciatingly warm evening where sitting on the fuzzy carpet seemed like the greatest torture imaginable.

It was only March and you were already in your skimpiest outfit of all; a frilly pair of dusty-pink shorts and a matching low-cut tank top dressing your sweat-beaded body. Dark spots saturated the fabric, demanding your fingers fanned it every two seconds. The worst had yet to come. By the time summer arrived, the final thing for you to crawl out of would be your own skin.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you returned to the item at hand. It’d been fairly long since you’d last performed a seance. Your role in the recent assignments was to support your classmates from the sidelines, exorcising whatever lower-grade curse got in their way with the aid of various cursed tools.

The white-haired nuisance could claim your technique was useful all he wanted, but at the end of the day, yours were simply not meant for combat. Best case scenario, after graduation, the higher-ups would put you on a 9 to 5 job, where you could dig whatever intel they wanted from the comfort of your cramped-up desk; away from your haughty classmates, and away from Gojo Satoru.

You rolled your fingers around the globe’s surface, pads tingling with waves of cursed energy as they seeped into the crystal. Slowly, a dark purple aura came to distort its translucence with colors and shapes of various magnitudes. Shadow-like forms gathered at the seams, remnants of pent-up energy colliding and converging with one another at one focal point. All ready to go!

You began mentally chanting the surname of your target, over and over again until the slideshow of foggy faces diminished to that of a select few candidates from the same bloodline. Some, you would imagine had died when they were still in their prime, measly fledglings of sorcerers with eyes retaining that youthful glossiness, while others seemed to have lived enough to see themselves turn into dehydrated raisins with next to zero cursed energy left.

Once you’d gone through your classmate’s entire family tree at least three times, you caught yourself admitting that despite their faults and innate air of pretension, the Zen’ins weren’t particularly hard on the eyes. Especially that one guy whose mug kept reappearing at random intervals, the slanted scar of his lips lingering in your mind well after the next contender’s appearance. There was something about him, be it the lack of aura he emitted or the viridescent hue of his eyes that had you replaying the frame at the expense of your own energy.

You were drawn to him in an inexplicable way that, at the time, you attributed to fate. It had to be him, right? That must have been why the dope you had for a mentor insisted on calling this a date. Even if he didn’t know the sorcerer’s name, he must have known how insanely attractive the guy was, right?

And suddenly, you felt a sliver of gratitude overcome you, eyelids snapping shut with the Zen’in sorcerer’s face as clear as day behind them, while you chanted the incantation Gojo himself had taught you.

“From the murky shroud of oblivion, I invoke thou out the shadows and blight to bask in heavenly light. Through me gain life, and through life gain thine blessed power.”

No more than a few seconds had passed when you heard a thud, your gaze meeting with that of the very man you’d summoned.

The orb barely did him any justice. Not as if crystal balls were ideal measuring instruments, but you’d need about ten more of those to depict his height as he towered over you, the bulky frame of his shoulders casting a large shadow on the wall behind your head. He was dressed in a much more casual manner than one would expect of someone who’d been dead for over a century, with corded veins and taut muscles peaking underneath a black compression shirt, waist accentuated where his hips met with a pair of baggy pants. And once you got to his face— you must have lost track of time staring into the gem-like green orbs of his eyes, considering you didn’t notice the scowl his lips wore until his tone pointed it out.

“The hell is this?” He sounded just like he looked, the bass of his timbre ringing most pleasantly in your ears.

You wouldn’t know what being dead felt like, but if it was anything remotely close to sitting on a dead leg for hours on end, you guessed he’d rather take a moment to adjust over an answer.

His soles circled the tiny space, eyes dancing between the fairy lights on the wall, the moonless sky —and by extension the empty driveway outside your window—, the three Polaroids on your desk that depicted an old family trip to Seoul (your mother silently accusing him from the frame for the crime of wearing his shoes inside the house), and lastly, you. His gaze feasted on your body as if he’d been starved for ages and you were the first oasis in the desert, his expression gradually easing into a lopsided smile as he cocked his head to the side.

“Got a name, sweetheart?” he asked in a syrupy sweet tone, the nickname he’d come up with making you doubt he’d use your actual name even if you shared it.

You set the ball aside and hopped on your feet, standing on somewhat more equal ground, though not equal enough to completely diminish the difference in height. He was massive, and you were still processing the kind of person that possessed the power to end this man’s life.

“Name’s Y/N,” you extended your hand. “You must be master Zen’in, nice to meet you!”

He merely glanced at your gesture, leaving you to embarrass yourself without a single qualm. “No one’s called me that in some time,” he expressed wryly. “You know about me?”

You nodded, wiping your palm against your shorts. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen a spirit act all high and mighty, a Zen’in at that. “Who hasn’t heard of the greatest sorcerer there’s ever been?” you chuckled, Gojo’s bootlicking advice coming in for the clutch. “You are somewhat of a legend in the Jujutsu world. The one who mastered the ten shadows technique like no other.”

“Is that who I am now,” he pondered out loud, his index briefly scratching his jaw. “I guess I am,” he grinned with confidence. “That why you summoned me? Wanted to meet with great ol’ me in person?”

“Something like it,” you admitted, finding it hard not to smile back. “I just so happen to be acquainted with this idiot who’s a big fan of yours. Had me use my technique for a passing grade.”

A low hum prompted you to continue. “He’s a real pain in the ass,” you groaned. “Calls himself ‘the strongest’ and acts as if he’s ‘teacher of the year’ when he forces me to fish out intel like some lackey— Actually, you might have heard of his family name before, they’ve been around for ages. Gojo,” quickly adding “Satoru.”

At the sound of your teacher’s name, the man’s eyes widened, his darkened pupils blown with an emotion akin to rage. You weren’t sure what great calamity the Gojos had brought upon him in his previous life, but being familiar with their descendant you doubted they put much effort into it.

“The six eyes is your teacher?” he asked, not giving you enough time to question how on earth he knew that title before he pitched in another question. “So, ya just a kid, huh?”

“I’m not!” you objected. “Turned 18 a while ago.”

“A while, you say?” he arched a brow.

“I’m closer to 19 if anything,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“19,” he mocked, his droopy eyelids incapable of hiding the way he sized your figure up.

You didn’t even think to put on a bra before the ritual started. Just like you could vividly picture what his pecs looked like under his clothes, your flimsy outfit left little to the imagination, the sweat that’d shimmered across your collarbones and cleavage working in your favor.

“Nah, you are right. No kid could ever have a body like that. Plump and ripe in all the right places,” his tongue lapped over his bottom lip, salacious stare prodding at what your arms kept hidden. “That’s a woman’s body, no doubt.”

Heat spread from your chest all the way to your cheeks, and for once, it wasn’t because of the room’s overbearing heat. Your toes sunk inside the carpet, thighs awkwardly rubbing together. You’d found yourself in such a position before, yet never with a boy like him— never with a man like him.

“Th-thank you,” you mumbled, your fingers hesitantly sliding down your elbows.

He took a step closer, lacking hesitation as he lifted your chin with two fingers, his thumb gently caressing it.

“Gonna let me look at the rest, baby?” his other hand encompassed your hip, the size of his palm alone making you feel oh-so small and fragile before him. “I’ll make ya a deal if you lemme. Tell ya anything you wanna know and more— heh, I’ll make sure ya pass with flying colors.”

“I don’t… I’m not-”

Depriving you of the chance to deny his advances, the man slotted his lips between yours and pulled back almost instantaneously, overjoyed to catch you leaning into his touch for more.

You weren’t sure why this was happening— why you were letting this happen. He was a stranger who barely qualified as being alive, and at the time of his death, he was closer to your father’s age than yours. But he was there, and he was paying you attention, and the way he spoke to you as if he already knew your answer ahead of your mouth had warmth spiraling to the lower parts of your body.

Rather than giving in to your pouty lips, the man whose name you didn’t even know cupped your breasts in both his hands, calloused thumbs making quick work of your nipples as they peaked below the drenched fabric, rolling the sensitive buds into full hardness.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he praised, kneading at your supple skin almost adoringly.

The straps of your top slid down your shoulders, and you felt the ghost of a smile press onto your neck, his warm mouth smearing wet kisses right to where your neck and shoulders connected. You bit back a sigh, your breath audibly strained.

“Bet you wanna be touched, hmm?” he continued, finding the sweet spot you didn’t know you had, and pressed on, his sharp teeth digging into your flesh coaxing a purr from deep within your throat. He chuckled, the vibrations making you shudder. “That why you’re dressed like a slut? Wanna be treated like one, mm?” his lips parted again, tongue lapping over the delicate bruise his teeth left as he pinched your nipples harshly. A moan was ripped from your slack jaw, the insult he carelessly threw adding to the slick between your thighs.

“Sounds about right,” he smirked. “Well, I’m not complaining. You’re a sight for sore eyes, kitten.”

He didn’t ask for permission before he tugged at your shirt, your breasts spilling out with a single bounce. You saw him wet his lips once more, fingers seizing your now-exposed nipples and lustful eyes admiring them up close. You hadn’t noticed how close he was standing until his hips bucked against yours, alerting you to how painfully hard he’d gotten underneath his pants. The six-year-long refractory period his body was subjected to was far too cruel— though you wouldn’t know about that until much later.

“Tell me,” he requested, pausing just so he could look you dead in the eye. “Have you ever done this before?”

His lips traversed the valley of your breasts, rough palms sliding languidly across your ribs and waist. You could see him hold you like that while being inches deep in you. Slamming your frail little set of bones against your desk’s wooden surface. Pounding your hole for your parents to return to their precious daughter bent in half by some stranger. Bruising Gojo’s star student until the smug smile was wiped from his obnoxious mouth for good.

All those reasons made you nod at his question, not caring that he’d be ten times rougher because of your white lie. If anything, you looked forward to that.

“Sure you’re not lying to me?” he read your mind like an open book, the elastic of your shorts being torn away from your body. “Won’t be mad if y’are. I love myself a sweet little virgin. Love how whiny their voices get. How,” he lowered himself onto his knees, palm pushing you to sit on your bed “cute their little tight cunts look all stretched around me.”

His hot breath fanned over your soaked panties, index lazily rubbing back and forth between your clothed slit, the added friction sending a pleasurable tingle up your spine.

“You really aren’t one, are ya?”

You shook your head repeatedly like a bobblehead doll, propping your weight onto your elbows as he lifted your legs on his shoulders, the reality of his choppy raven hair nuzzling to your thighs finally hitting you.

“You said all you wanted to do was look, right?” the finger that was hooked around your underwear stopped. “That was the deal…”

For a brief yet conscious second, his eyes bore into yours with such spite that you thought you’d completely messed up. Only a virgin would dare say something this stupid. If he wasn’t bound to you by the ritual, he’d be out the door the moment you spat those words, you knew it, but then his knuckles brushed over your abdomen to find the hand that clenched onto the sheets, and you realized that wasn’t the case.

“Deals get altered and terms renewed all the time,” he mumbled distractedly, deeply inhaling your scent on his nose, while your fingers unfolded between his lips. You gasped, the sight of him fucking them in and out his mouth —tongue slithering right in the middle and saliva dribbling down his chin as he popped them out— enough to hypnotize whatever sense out of your brain.

“I’ll make ya a new deal,” he hummed, gently directing them to your mouth as if he beckoned you to do the same. A smirk tugged at his scar as he watched your pink lips obediently part and round around your own fingers. He didn’t let go until he heard you choke, secretly plotting to replace them with something else—sooner, than later.

“My technique is what interests you, right? How about instead of telling you, I show you?”

You tried to remove your hand, but he shoved it back in, his true colors pouring into a devilish smile. “I’ve had enough of your voice. All you gotta do is sit back like the good little girl I know you are and keep your legs nice and spread for me. How’s that?”

The only thing your head could manage was pathetically bob up and down in agreement, your fingers stuck in your mouth like a damn pacifier, while your cunt pulsed at every single word he uttered; derogatory or not. Were it any other guy talking down to you like that, your knuckles would be leaving an impermanent imprint on his cheek. Were it any other guy treating you as if you had no volition of your own as if you were just a toy for him to break, and you—

There wouldn’t be any other guy for you ever again. He’d make sure of it.

He ripped the fabric into a single shred and tossed it over his shoulder without caring where it landed- your bedside lamp. He looked down at your pussy, debating to himself whether to start with his tongue or fingers first, calculating the time it’d take for him to prep you for his cock down to the last second. He might’ve been a lot less nice than he pretended to be, but he wasn’t about to go out of his way to hurt you. Not intentionally, at least.

“Let’s see,” he tipped forward, the way his forefinger slipped between your folds without any resistance whatsoever bringing you shame. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, his digit triumphantly pulling out and smearing your slick all over your puffy lips. “Is that all for me, sweetheart? So fucking wet just for me?”

Your hips bucked forward as an answer to his question and he thought he wouldn’t mind taking things slow for once— see how much you could take before you came completely undone.

“Girls like you make the best fuck,” he cooed, voice echoing right through your core. “Surrendering to the first sweet word they hear.” His thumb circled your clit, flicking at the little bundle of nerves. “Leaking at the slightest of touch.” His middle and ring fingers joined in the action, burying themselves as far inside walls as your tight hole let him push. “Breaking so easily.” He drooled, coating your entire pussy in his thick saliva before allowing himself a taste, tongue lapping at the mix of juices straight from the source.

Your thighs clenched around him, muffling the lewdness of a whimper as he looked up at you, his smirk loosening with every kitten lick across your flesh. You wanted to say something, to call out his name and moan for him, but it all felt so unpracticed— similarly to how unpracticed your cunt was when it came to the girth of his fingers; much bigger than yours, more experienced too. He reached depths you didn’t know existed, bringing your body such pleasure that had you writhing for more, hips slamming against his face.

He groaned, his own arousal throbbing against his lower abdomen, begging him to get this over with. “Wanna fuck my face, baby?”

You felt your cheeks ignite anew, the eyes you’d fallen for at first sight overflowing with lust, convincing you it felt as good for him as it felt for you.

“Can’t let ya do that,” he parted your folds, fingers spreading your thighs apart while his tongue darted between your lips, his nose intentionally nudging the pink nub with each deep stroke against your spongy spot. “Gotta earn it first.”

You stared at him like an idiot, wondering to yourself if somewhere between his refusal to shake your hand and his eagerness to quench his thirst with your body you’d passed away because that was what heaven ought to feel like. That was what angels ought to look like.

“Got something to say, princess?” his eyes shot up and he gestured for you to unlatch your mouth.

“S-so pretty,” you whispered.

“What was that?” his ears perked up, not because he hadn’t heard you the first time, but because he could do with some affirmation himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this… f-fuck—” a yelp punched its way out of your lungs as he folded you in half, pinning your thighs onto your stomach, and crawling onto the bed right after them.

He’d had enough of this little game.

“Good girls shouldn’t cuss like that. Six eyes didn’t teach ya that?”

Holding you down with one hand, he dived back into your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace that had your upper body tossing and turning, the first unregulated moans ushering him to keep going. His tongue toyed with your swollen bud, the squelching of your cunt growing significantly louder from this angle, reverberating throughout the four walls of your bedroom. You were close, and so was he to getting his dick wet with all the mess he’d helped create.

His mouth watered just at the thought of his seed being the one to dribble down your thighs instead of his spit. He could picture you in one of those cute blue-navy skirts hanging from your closet and hoped you weren’t a tights person. He wanted to see you off to school every morning with your thighs sticking together so deliciously that anyone smart enough would understand how meticulously he’d fucked the brat out of you—

If only there was a mirror for you to see how stunning you looked. All fucked out and writhing, disheveled hair stuck on your tits and forehead while you nuzzled to the pillows, your shaky voice calling out to the surname he’d left behind. Would you still do that if you knew he played you like a fiddle? If you knew he was no esteemed Zen’in or sorcerer, for that matter, but a man hell-bent on ruining you for his own sick satisfaction?

Your body reciprocated his vile thoughts, your pussy fluttering around his digits. “Gonna cum for me?” he panted, forcing your legs to the side lest he missed a reaction.

Neither of you realized how his one hand had sneaked into his pants, stroking his veiny cock closer to the ecstasy he craved. Precum leaked hot out of the reddened tip, his thumb frantically swiping it over his length in sync with his thrusts. He’d stopped listening to your pleas and instructions. He fucked his fingers in you as he pleased, slowing down only when his balls began to dangerously tighten. Only then did he tear his fingers away ‘cause God forbid he busts his load in his palm like some fucking untouched teenager— regardless of how obscenely pretty you appeared for him or not.

Once he regained his composure, words made sense again. Harder. Faster. More. He hated being told what to do but absolutely loved how pliant you were. A people-pleaser, he bet. Going above and beyond what was asked of you, bending and breaking into whatever molds others force you to fit. He could work with that. Shape you into a mold only he could fit in.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how much prettier y’ can get.”

His cock twitched as he felt your walls clamp down around his fingers, your sweet face contorting with pleasure, lips swollen with how hard they’d tried to contain the last bits of debouched decency.

How cute.

He set your legs down and moved up to meet your face with his, a wave of genuine softness rushing over him as he thought to kiss your lips tenderly, hushing whatever emotion had you spasming. You were so sensitive. Even if you’d been with another guy before him, he doubted they knew what they were doing— not like he did, anyway. He’d make you scream out his name for the neighbors to hear what a dirty slut lived just next door from them.

After a short while of his stroking your hair and whispering filth into your ears, he decided he’d been good enough to get his trick. He took your hand in his and guided it to his cock, grinning like a little kid as your smaller palm traced the outline over his pants, knowing full well both hands would do nothing to cover his girth.

He’d really missed this— so much that he didn’t mind letting a grunt out in appreciation, certain that more would follow.

Your eyes met, the spark in them telling him you understood what he expected you to do, and even if you didn’t, he’d teach you. He’d teach you everything, snatch you from that piece of shit and make you into his star student, so long as you kept touching him and let him do all the things he’d spent the last thirty minutes fantasizing about.

Everything and anything, all for you to take—

The thoughts that failed to reach your ears along with all traces of the man whose weight alone -up until a moment ago- threatened to crush your body into a fine powder evaporated, the smooth sound of his voice replaced by the crude breaks of your father’s car as he pulled into the driveway— your mother’s kitten heels soon clicking atop every step they climbed.

Shit.

A/N: I actually intended for this to be a one-shot, but I guess it sort of ended on a cliffhanger so, oops. Lemme know if I should write a second and final part, or if you have any Toji ideas/requests ♡

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somethingvicked · 19 days

Text

Number one

Eddie Munson one-shot.

Warnings: female reader, jealousy, language, smut.

Eddie was livid. He knew he was being ridiculous but he couldn’t help himself. You were chattering away with Sebastian and the way you were chirping at him, your eyes never moving away from his face made Eddie grit his teeth.

Usually he loved hearing you chat about anything. But that was when you talked to him, not your former best friend.

Yes, former. Because Eddie was your best friend. Had been ever since Sebastian moved away.

Sebastian abandoned you – how could you forget that?

And that Eddie had seen you eating lunch by yourself at an empty table and felt his throat close up at the thought of you being all alone.

He had invited you over to the Hellfire table, just so you wouldn’t have to sit alone and ever since that day he and you had been inseparable.

So inseparable that when Eddie finally managed to graduate high school you two had gotten an apartment together over the record store where both of you now worked.

When Sebastian called and wondered if he could visit for a day while he was on a roadtrip with his family you had happily said yes. Eddie hadn’t thought anything of it then – he knew you missed Sebastian.

But now… now he just wanted to kill the guy that hogged all your attention and made you giggle, with references to movies he’d never watched with you or books he’d never read and shared with you.

He had been furious when Sebastian had made you lunch – pancakes – and you had squealed with joy, saying how much you loved pancakes and how good Sebastian was at making them; he could even turn the pancakes in the air.

Eddie was a lousy cook which was why you always cooked for the two of them. But now he wished he had tried a bit more.

He was surprised at himself. He had always known he loved you. But he had never thought much of how he loved you. For so long there had only been you and him. Yes, the other Hellfire guys were your friends too, as was Steve, Jonathan and Argyle.

But Eddie and you… you two were special. He had never felt this threatened about your connection before.

The other guys… they were your friends, yes. What Eddie and you had… that was special. He didn’t have a word for it. And he didn’t want anyone else to have that with you!

He had never thought much about your friendship with Sebastian. He knew you two had been best friends before he and the Hellfire guys ‘adopted’ you. But for some reason he always thought that you and him… you were better friends.

He was your number one. And you were his too.

Had he been wrong? Was Sebastian in fact your number one and he had just been a nice stand-in all these years?

When you suggested that you and Eddie took Sebastian with you to the Hideout Eddie had almost exploded. The Hideout was his turf! He performed there, he had bartended there – he was the one that introduced you to the Hideout. And now you wanted to bring Sebastian there?!

“You go, I don’t feel like it,” he had grumbled and stomped out of the apartment. The last thing he saw was your jaw dropping at his behavior and childishly he felt it served you right.

What did it matter to you if Eddie wasn’t around, now that you had gotten your number one back, huh?!

Eddie spent the evening at his old picnic table, smoking cigarette after cigarette (after starting with a joint), looking up at the stars.

He remembered when you had said that this spot could be used for more than business – that it was perfect for stargazing too.

Numerous nights you two had gone here, watching the stars and the moon. You were so hopelessly in awe of the moon, no matter what phase it was in.

It was late at night when he finally drove back home and walked inside. You sat at the kitchen counter, your arms crossed, clearly waiting for him.

Another time he might have stumbled from how good you looked – you were dressed in a red plaid skirt, black knee socks and a black polo.

“Where have you been?” you asked, your voice tight with irritation.

“What’s it to you?” Eddie replied, knowing exactly how petulant he sounded.

You shook your head. “What is your problem?! You’ve been acted like a jerk all day! Do you know how embarrassing it is having bragged to Sebastian on how great of a guy you are and then you treat him so horrible and act like a dick?”

“Well, so sorry that I don’t measure up to…” Eddie started before your words registered in his mind. You had bragged about him? To Sebastian?

But you had already heard him, so you looked at him with wide, confused eyes. “What are you talking about? Measure up to what?”

Eddie looked away. “Well… you and him were best friends before you and me. I get it, he will always be first to you. But do you have to rub it in my face?”

You looked at him as if he was crazy. “What? Eddie… what on Earth are you talking about? You think this is about… which one of you I like best?”

“No, I just told you, I know you like Sebastian best, I just…”

“Eddie. Shut up,” you all but yelled.

That took him by surprise, you yelled so rarely that he was struck with silence.

“Eddie. Where is this coming from?” you asked softly. Then a smile suddenly spread over your face. “Wait, are you jealous?”

Eddie felt his cheeks heat up and he quickly looked away again.

“Oh, Eds,” you whispered and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around him. “Look, I do love Sebastian. He and I have known each other since we were two years old. But that doesn’t mean I value you or what we have less than him! But… I do think you’re right. Me and Sebastian, it’s different from you and I.”

Eddie felt like you had slapped him. So he had been right all along!

But then, you cupped his face, making him look at you. “You and I… there’s a lot of differences. I… I’ve never checked out Sebastian’s ass when he bends over. I’ve never… I’ve never wanted to tug on Sebastian’s hair when he hugs me. I’ve never wished that he would kiss me after he hugs me. I’ve never… I’ve never used my vibrator and cried out Sebastian’s name when I cum.”

Eddie briefly wondered if the joint he had smoked earlier had been laced with something stronger and he was having hallucinations. His jaw hung open as he listened to you, feeling his mouth water and his dick harden when you all but described how you masturbated to the thought of him.

“R-really?” he stuttered out.

“Yes,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. “And… and I never thought you felt the same. Because I was just this girl you took pity on in junior high. Just like you take all your little sheep under your wing.”

Eddie almost choked on his own spit. “Sweetheart,” he exhaled, “you’re not one of my sheep. You… you are the reason I fucking breathe!”

He thought he saw your eyes mist over in tears before you finally, finally crashed your lips against his and he wrapped his arms around you, hands immediately going to your ass, squeezing it as he lifted you up, pressing you as close as possible.

You whimpered when you found him already hard, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your core against him. Eddie slipped his tongue inside your mouth, tasting you, moaning deeply both from your kiss and how you pressed your covered cunt against his cock, trying his best to find the first available surface to press you up against.

Luckily he felt the kitchen counter bump against his hip and he sat you down on it, still kissing you as he pushed your legs even further apart, stepping in between them and pressing kisses to your neck, leaving marks in his path.

You whined against him, pushing his denim vest and leather jacket off, pulling at his flannel shirt so the buttons flew all over the kitchen. When you found he wore a tank top beneath it you grumbled in annoyance. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?!

“Why are you wearing so little?” Eddie growled in reply, pushing your skirt up, “showing everyone what’s mine?”

“Because I thought you would come with us!” you bit back at him, making him glare at you, and smashing his lips to yours again.

That silenced you and when he his finger went to your already soaked panties, rubbing you on top of the material you squeaked, back bending backwards.

“Eds…!”

“That’s right. Say my name, tell me who you belong to!”

“You! I promise, Eds, only you! You’re the only one I want!”

“Good girl,” he told you, raising your arms above your head, pulling the polo shirt off you, leaving you in your bra.

“Such pretty tits,” he whispered, reaching behind you to unhook the bra. He wanted to feel those beautiful boobs pressed against his own chest, tease your nipples with his chest hair, so he quickly took off his tank top and hoisted you up into his arms again, walking toward his bedroom.

You dragged your nails along his back kissing his neck and pulling on his hair, just like you had said you wanted.

Eddie tossed you onto the bed, watching your breasts bounce with you as you hit the mattress.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled.

“So are you, Eds,” you whispered, wiggling out of your skirt and letting him see the soaked black thong you wore.

He frowned and leaned forward, grabbing on to the lace and let the elastic snatch against your skin. “Who did you wear this for?”

“You! I told you…”

“Good answer,” he interrupted you, sitting down on his knees, spreading you open. He leaned forward and inhaled deeply, licking his lips at your scent.

“Fuck, Y/N. You smell so sweet. You want me to taste that delicious pussy of yours, don’t you?”

“Yes!” you wailed, bucking your hips.

“Me too,” Eddie said, moving down and licked a stripe over your soaked panties. “Mmm… I’m going to keep these from now on. Forget my bandana, this is what I’ll keep in my back pocket from this day forward.

He pulled at your thong so hard that it ripped and did just what he had said, placing it in the pocket of his jeans before slowly separating your lips and licking you from hole to clit, humming at your taste.

“Oh God! Eddie, please…!”

He had thought to spend a good bit of time eating you out but you had other plans. After he had licked you a second time you pulled him up and unzipped his jeans.

“Get these off,” you muttered. “I need you. Need you in me! I feel like I’ll die if I go a minute longer without your cock.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Eddie said, ridding himself of his jeans and boxers and the look you gave him when you saw his cock for the first time… it almost made him cum on the spot.

“Inside!” you nearly screamed, yelling for the second time today.

Eddie placed your legs over his shoulders and then finally pressed inside you, making both of you moan in tandem.

“Shit… you’re so tight, Y/N, baby…” he groaned, concentrating on his breathing so he wouldn't shoot off like a rocket.

“You feel so good,” Y/N sobbed. “Better than I ever imagined. Fuck me, Eddie, fuck me!”

“Your wish is my command,” Eddie choked out and started to move. You were moving with him, arching your hips every time he thrust into you to take him deeper. He felt himself hit that spot deep inside you, and soon you couldn’t even moan anymore, you just screamed. Screamed and raked your nails down his back leaving deep marks, body bent in an arch, making your breasts rub against his chest every time you two moved. He had barely reached down between you two to rub your clit again when your scream turned a pitch louder and his eyes widened as he felt you squeeze him so tight he almost lost the feeling in his cock.

You sprayed him with fluids, your eyes rolling back into your head as you just kept screaming.

She’s still cumming, Eddie thought, increasing his pace to get to his own climax, still with your screams echoing in his ears, tears running down your face, sweat breaking out on your forehead and chest.

“Eddie…! Eds…! Eddie, honey…!” you sobbed as he finally filled you up, claiming you.

You bucked a few extra times, making him sob too from the overstimulation before you sank down against the mattress again. You looked like you had just ran a marathon, your heart thundering like crazy against his chest.

“Yikes,” he said when he finally found his voice again. “You really… you came that hard?”

“That’s how long I’ve wanted you, it’s been building up,” you whispered, hoarse from the screaming. “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too. “

“About earlier…”

Eddie blushed. “Please, we don’t have to…”

“Eddie, listen. Sebastian is and will always be my friend. But you… you will always be my number one. In everything.”

Eddie smiled and kissed her. “By the way… where is Sebastian, I thought he would stay until tomorrow?”

You giggled. “He met a girl at the Hideout and followed her home. So you see… I’m his best friend too but clearly not his number one.”

(please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful, but reblogs expand my reading circle!)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson smut #jealous!eddie #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic

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supernovafics · 8 months

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.6k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, “the beatles” slander (sorry?), just a lil bit of angst

summary: in which you force you and steve to have a housewarming party

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

“Oh no, you’re playing The Beatles at full volume... On a scale of one to ten, how worried should I be for you right now?”

Hearing Steve’s voice right then put a timestamp on how long you’d been in your current position— lying in the dark on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment, an oversized hoodie, which just so happened to be Steve’s, covering your body; even the hood was pulled over your head because you wanted to feel completely cocooned.

He finished his shift at Family Video at seven and the drive usually took no more than twenty minutes, and you’d gotten home from your last class around five. That meant you’d been sulking for over two hours. A part of you felt a bit disappointed in yourself.

Not enough to stop sulking and get up from the couch, though.

Steve flicked on the light, which made you groan and pull on the strings of the hoodie so that your eyes were covered too, and then he walked over to where the record player sat atop a low shelf that was full of books, magazines, and random trinkets including a pink piggy bank that contained stray arcade tokens rather than actual money. He turned off the record player, putting a stop to the Abbey Road vinyl that you had been playing on repeat for hours. You absolutely detested The Beatles so whenever you were in a melancholic mood, it felt only right to play their music.

“Our neighbors probably hate us now,” Steve said as he joined you on the couch, moving your legs for a moment so that he could sit down and then placing them over his lap. “If we don’t get the cookie basket from Miss Johnson for Christmas, I fully blame you.”

He expected that to get a laugh or at least a smile out of you. The mention of the sweet old woman a few doors down who had given you two a welcome basket full of freshly baked muffins when you moved in and then promised to bring you the cookies that she always made and gave to people in the building during the holidays.

You didn’t do either of those things though. Your mouth felt too stuck in a straight line to even think about smiling. Therefore, you instead disregarded everything Steve had said since he’d entered the apartment and mumbled, “Why are guys such idiots?”

He placed a hand over his heart as if he’d just been wounded. “Ouch.”

You pulled the hood off your head and then propped yourself up by your elbows to finally look at him. “Obviously, you’re the exception.” You then thought about your words for a brief moment. “Well, sometimes.”

“Double ouch,” He said. “But yes, guys are idiots. Which one are you talking about, in particular? Charlie?”

You sighed and looked away. “Sadly.”

“He’s lasted longer than I expected,” Steve told you. He fully thought that the crush you had on this guy from your early morning Statistics class wouldn’t stem past a few weeks.

“At this point, I wish I didn’t like him anymore,” You responded and then looked at Steve again, a small amused smile gracing your lips as you thought of something. “Any hot people come into Family Video lately?”

Steve simply laughed and shook his head at you.

It was almost too easy for you to develop a crush on someone. So much so that many of them you wouldn’t even mention to Steve or your other friends because of how fast they’d come and go.

Most of the time, the inevitable abrupt ending of the crushes would leave you feeling something adjacent to heartbreak because most of the guys you’d ended up liking were, in fact, idiots, or you’d feel disappointment because your feelings never lived up to how they were at the beginning of the crush. But there was always still something about the idea of liking someone that was surprisingly fun to you. You wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a hopeless romantic, but it sometimes felt as if you were exactly that.

You finally sat up from the couch and moved close to Steve. “Okay, spare me the supportive best friend ‘we’ve known each other since we were ten and I only want the best for you’ spiel for a few moments and just answer a quick question for me, okay?”

Although he was completely confused and would’ve killed for more context, Steve nodded at your current antics. “Okay.”

“If we had just finished a really hard test, and you were worried about how you did on it, and I did this,” You grabbed his hand, linking it with yours and giving him the sweetest smile that was typically only reserved for when you were hardcore flirting with someone. “While saying ‘I’m sure you did great,’ you would understand that I have a massive crush on you, right?”

He glanced down at your intertwined hands for a brief moment before ultimately nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly,” You said as you dropped Steve’s hand and then slumped back against the couch. “So Charlie pulling away— no smile back or anything— and simply saying, ‘Thanks. You probably did good too,’ in response to that means either he can’t read my stupidly obvious flirting cues, or he’s not into me. And, honestly, I’m almost certain it’s the second one.” Suddenly you were hit with a fresh wave of sadness and you pulled the hood over your head once again. “Please put back on The Beatles and let me wallow in peace for the rest of the night. I promise I’ll be better by the morning.”

“I’d rather hear Harold running on his squeaky wheel all night than The Beatles on repeat,” He said and you actually perked up at the mention of the pet you two had gotten only a few months ago, barely a week after you’d fully moved into the apartment, the brown and white furry creature formally known as “Harold the Hamster.”

Currently, he was sleeping only a few feet away in his cage that sat on the coffee table. Somehow he managed to be completely unbothered by the music you’d been loudly playing.

“Okay, how about this,” Steve started. “Let’s order a pizza from that place close by. I’ll even suffer and let you put olives on it.”

You pushed the hood off your head again so that you could look at your best friend, only slightly intrigued by what he was saying. “Keep talking…”

“And then we’ll watch The Breakfast Club because you love it and you immediately rented it out from Family Video when we got it in,” He continued and you perked up even more at the mention of one of your favorite movies. “Which, by the way, is a copy that is weeks overdue and has probably racked up an insane amount of late fees at this point.”

You smiled at him. “Good thing I know someone who works there. And he would never let me pay any late fees.”

“Wow, he sounds like a great guy.”

You shrugged as you looked away from Steve. “Meh, he’s alright.”

He immediately poked your side, causing you to laugh loudly. “I’m gonna make you pay all of the late fees now.”

“That’s very evil,” You said with a shake of your head, but you were still laughing because you knew that he wasn’t being serious.

Steve ordered the pizza as you put the Breakfast Club tape in and then you both settled on the couch again. You had probably watched the movie five times since you rented it, but somehow you hadn’t grown tired of it yet. Instead, it managed to effectively take your mind off of Charlie and the entire situation with him, at least for the time being.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve may have been the one who worked at Family Video, but you knew that place so well it was almost as if you worked there too. His almost never-changing schedule was practically seared into your brain, and you knew the exact times the place was always busy and the moments when it was pretty much dead aside from a handful of random customers.

Somehow Fridays at noon were one of the store’s emptiest times.

Steve was standing behind the counter sorting through movies on a cart when you walked in.

“Hello,” You smiled at him. “I come bearing one not-at-all overdue copy of The Breakfast Club and very fun news.”

Steve was quick to smile back when he saw you, but it dropped when it seemed as if he remembered something. “Shouldn’t you be in your Psychology class right now?” Just like you knew his schedule like the back of your hand, he knew yours. “Your parents will find a way to blame me if you’ve dropped out of school, y’know.”

“My professor canceled last minute; her sister went into labor. So, don’t worry, you won’t be hearing any sort of lecture from my parents,” You answered as you dug in your bag for the movie.

Steve grabbed it from your outstretched hand and placed it on the cart before looking back at you. “What's your news?”

“Okay, so remember when we were ten and on that cruise, and you liked this random girl from New Jersey— Rebecca, I’m pretty sure her name was?” You said. “She was sixteen, completely unattainable, but I still tried to help you talk to her.”

That cruise was actually when you and Steve met. It was a very weird serendipitous kind of moment where your parents bumped into his at the buffet one of the first few days and found out that they not only lived in Indiana, but in a town that was two over from yours, and they even had a son that was the same age as you.

You had been somewhere sitting by the pool when this romcom-esque “meet cute” happened, but when your parents found you, they introduced you to Steve. Although at first, it felt like a friendship that was being forced upon you both, it was still nice to have someone other than your parents— actually, someone better than your parents— to hang out with on the ten-day trip.

You beat him countless times at air hockey at the arcade onboard and the two of you spent most of the nights successfully sneaking into the “club” that was only meant for kids fifteen and up— which was where his crush on Rebecca began and subsequently ended.

“Yes, I remember that, not my finest moment. But, I also don’t blame her, it probably would’ve been weirder if she wanted to flirt back to a ten-year-old,” Steve responded and then furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, I’m confused, though. Is your news that you found her or something?”

You immediately shook your head at his question. “No, what I’m gonna say actually has nothing to do with that, but I wanted to remind you of how supportive I was of you during that time, and how supportive you should be of me right now with what I’m about to say.”

“I’ll always support you,” He didn’t hesitate to tell you. “Unless you’re pitching the matching tattoos idea again. And then, in that case, I guess our decade-long friendship will have to end here.”

“One day I’ll eventually convince you to do it; mark my words. And the tattoo will be one of those stupidly cringey ones where we each get a flower with the other person’s name blooming out of it.”

Steve did nothing but groan and shake his head at you, which only made you laugh.

“But, anyway, my actual news is that we’re having a party tonight,” You said and then continued before he could say anything in response just yet. “Kind of like a housewarming party. I realized that we never really had one.”

“We did have one.”

You shook your head and let out a sound that was a cross between a scoff and a laugh. “Robin and Eddie coming over on our first night and all of us smoking weed on the fire escape and then falling asleep on our mattresses in the living room because we didn’t have any furniture yet did not count as our housewarming party.”

Steve laughed a bit. “It was very fun, though.”

“It was great,” You agreed with a nod. “But, not an actual party, so that's why we're having one tonight.”

Steve only looked at you for a moment and you knew that he was trying to read you. He was the only person that you were certain could completely see through you— he could tell what you were feeling even when it was too hard for you to put those muddled thoughts into words, and he could see right through all of the bullshit you’d spew at times. Sometimes it annoyed you, but most times it felt nice to be so completely seen and understood.

It only took a second for things to seemingly click into place for him. “Is all of this about Charlie?”

“No,” You immediately answered, but you didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

Of course, Steve didn’t believe you at all and he didn’t have to verbally say that for you to know, the unspoken words were clear in the deadpan look he gave you.

“Okay, fine. Yes, it is,” You said and then sighed as you leaned against the counter. “I saw him today and he said that he was planning to go to this party tonight and he wasn’t that excited about it, but it’s better than doing nothing on a Friday. And then for some insane reason, I blurted out that he should come to my party tonight instead. In hindsight, I probably should’ve immediately backtracked when I said that, but I didn’t and instead, this whole “housewarming party” plan was born.”

“Is there any way I can say no to this?” Steve asked and you quickly shook your head.

“Sorry, but no. Remember what happened on the cruise. Remember how I tried to be helpful with Rebecca,” You told him as you walked around so that you were behind the counter with him. You began sifting through the cart which was full of movies that people had just returned. “And honestly, I just wanna use this party as a last-ditch effort to see if he likes me, and if not then I’ll just make out with someone else at the party to get over him. So, actually, this is a win-win situation no matter what, and this party needs to happen.”

Steve only sighed in response at first, which made you look at him again. He then was quiet for a moment before ultimately nodding and plastering on the brightest and fakest smile you’d probably ever seen from him. “Okay, fine, let’s throw the best two months late housewarming party ever.”

You smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There were a lot of things Steve wanted to tell you.

One of the main things being how even though he hadn’t met him yet, he knew that Charlie definitely didn’t deserve you basically throwing a whole party for him just for you to see if he liked you back. Also, how actually most of the guys you ended up crushing on didn’t deserve your attention for a second.

However, he knew that he couldn’t tell you any of that. Not when you’d been there through his ups and downs when it came to dating, and not when you were always supportive; even though a lot of the time it was easy to tell that you weren’t the biggest fan of the girls he went out with.

Early on in your friendship, it was unspokenly decided that bearing through each other’s plethora of shitty relationships just came with the territory of being best friends, and whenever things inevitably went downhill you’d both just be there for each other to pick up the metaphoric pieces.

However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t internally roll his eyes when about an hour into the party he finally did meet Charlie. It was a brief interaction where you introduced them when he entered the apartment and then Steve almost immediately walked away because he knew that you wanted to be alone with Charlie. Well, as “alone” as you two could be with a party that was in full swing around you.

Your shared apartment quickly became full of at least forty people. It was a mix of people from your classes, the small handful of people from high school that you still sometimes talked to, a bunch of people that Steve knew, and anyone else that Robin and Eddie also wanted to invite. For a party thrown together at the last possible second, you both had to admit that it was a pretty solid turnout.

And also for a party that Steve hadn’t really wanted to have in the first place, he was actually having a good time. He was playing a drinking game version of Uno with Robin and a few others circled around the coffee table; Harold’s cage was placed next to him on the couch for the time being.

After a second round in a row where Robin won— she was always crazy good at the game— Steve wanted to ask you to join because he knew how much you loved the game, even though you were very bad at it. He was even tipsy enough that he would’ve been fine with Charlie joining in as well.

He looked around, trying to find you, and it was something that should’ve happened in seconds. No matter what, it was always somehow easy to spot each other in any sort of crowded room— how effortless it always was almost felt equivalent to some weird kind of party trick. However, this time, Steve couldn’t find you.

At first, he thought that that meant that things were going well with Charlie, but when he eventually spotted him standing in the kitchen talking and smiling at a girl who was definitely not you, he had a feeling that things had probably gone the opposite.

“I’m gonna sit out this round,” Steve said to Robin as he got up from the couch.

The short walk to your bedroom was more difficult than expected because maneuvering through all of the people in the apartment proved to be a battle in itself. He ignored the sign on your door that said “Keep Out!” which you put up right before the party started to discourage people from going into your room and using it as a place to make out or have sex; Steve also had a sign on his door.

When he walked in, he didn’t see you on your bed or sitting at your desk, or even lying on the floor, so he headed to the door right next to your closet that led to your bathroom.

“Hey, you in there?”

Twenty minutes ago, when you went into your bathroom, you had initially thought that you didn’t want to talk to or see anyone— you wanted to wallow alone and in silence. But, it turned out that hearing Steve’s voice right then didn’t annoy you or make you upset. Instead, it was the exact voice you wanted to hear in that moment— because, of course, Steve never counted as just anyone.

You were sitting in your empty white tub. The cool porcelain felt nice against the exposed parts of your skin that the dress you were wearing didn’t cover, and you thought that the small confines of your bathroom would be the perfect place to spend the rest of your night; a night that had gone downhill almost too fast.

“Yes,” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for Steve to hear.

“Can I come in?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yes. But, please don’t turn on the light.”

“Okay.”

You heard the door open then close and then the sound of the shower curtain being pushed to the side caught your attention and you looked up at Steve.

“What happened?” He asked. Your eyes had long adjusted to the darkness so you could make out his face fairly well and you could see the concerned look on it.

“I don’t wanna lie and say nothing, but I also don’t really wanna talk about it right now.”

“That’s okay,” He said with a small nod. “Can I sit?”

You didn’t verbally answer and instead simply pulled your knees up to make room in the tub for him. He got in, pulling his knees up as well, and for a few moments, it was quiet. You could faintly hear the sound of music coming from the living room, but you couldn’t fully make out whatever vinyl Eddie decided to play on the record player.

“Someone gave us a plant,” Steve told you, breaking the silence. “Housewarming gift.”

“Oh, no,” You responded with a small sigh. You and Steve were probably the least “green thumb” people ever. “It’s gonna be dead in a week.”

“She said it’s a low-maintenance one so we’ll see how true that is,” He said as he shrugged. “Now that I’m thinking about it, though, is it weird that we can easily take care of a hamster, but a plant will barely last a week with us?”

You shook your head. “Harold provides us constant love and affection— even when he’s running on his squeaky wheel at three in the morning, it’s somehow still adorable— a plant does not do that. So, which one are we gonna remember to care for?”

“Very, very true.”

“At least one person gave us a gift, though,” You said. “Now that I’m remembering that we called this a housewarming party, I’m actually kinda upset that we didn’t get any more presents. Where’s our fancy plates and cookware, or even a nice throw blanket?”

You were only slightly joking with your statement, you would’ve actually loved getting a blanket.

Steve laughed a bit. “If that’s what you wanted then we should’ve invited our moms and their friends.”

“Fuck, we really should’ve done that when we moved in. Such a missed opportunity.”

“I fully think that if we did do that our apartment would look eerily similar to Miss Johnson’s,” Steve said and you could imagine it completely. Frilly white curtains in the living room instead of the black ones that were currently up that blocked out the sun perfectly, and flowery pillows on the gray couch instead of the sage green ones that you found on sale a few weeks ago.

You inwardly shuddered at the thought. “Okay, yes, that’s probably true, but at least we would be using nice plates and not the Mickey Mouse ones we got from that thrift shop.”

Steve jokingly gasped, offended. “I love those Mickey plates, actually.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Just for a moment, it was nice to completely forget about what happened not even an hour ago and what led you to essentially hide away in your bathroom in the first place.

Things got quiet again and it was the kind of silence that you liked; the kind that made you feel completely comfortable with spending the rest of the night avoiding everything and staying right there in your tub with Steve, and you knew that he would’ve been okay with that too. Even though your bodies would’ve probably started aching after just thirty minutes of being in this position, and he was taller so it would be worse for him, he wouldn’t have complained.

You focused on the muffled sound of the music playing in the living room. This time you managed to make out the familiar beat of the song; Somebody to Love by Queen. You let out a sigh because that song playing right then somehow felt way too on the nose.

Steve reached over and lightly poked your knee. “You okay?”

You were so close to pushing the question away again, avoiding the topic and bringing up something else completely— maybe saying that you actually loved those damn Mickey Mouse plates too— but you actually didn’t feel like brushing the topic away anymore.

“He doesn’t like me,” You abruptly said, voice quiet. “I was tired of trying to read between lines and shit, so I just asked him, and he said no.”

You noticed the sad look cross Steve’s face, which only made a fresh wave of embarrassment and sadness wash over you, but you kept going before he could say anything just yet. “And then to make that whole moment even more embarrassing for me, after he said no he pointed at this girl— I don’t know her name, I think Robin invited her— and asked if I knew if she was single or not.”

Steve’s response of “What the fuck,” was immediate and it was really nice hearing how angry he was on your behalf and it made you smile a bit.

“This past hour has been extremely humbling for me. And I know I said I’d find someone to make out with if things didn’t work out with Charlie, but I’m not even in the mood to do that,” You told him as you leaned back against the cool tub and closed your eyes. “And you wanna know what the worst part of all of this is?”

“What?” “I’m not even drunk right now, so I’ll sadly remember all of this tomorrow.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you expected Steve to say in response to that, but you fully did not expect him to laugh. You opened your eyes and lightly kicked his leg. “Wow, thank you for laughing at my pain.”

“I’m sorry. I am a little drunk right now, so you saying that you’re not is kind of funny because it feels like the roles are reversed,” He said and you slightly hated how right he was. At any party you went to, he was usually the sober-ish one helping you out whenever you drank too much. “Robin and I were playing the Uno drinking game with some people.”

“What? I can’t believe I missed that.”

“We can go play it now. You’d honestly probably win for once since you’re the only one of us who isn’t drunk.”

“Ha ha,” You said with a roll of your eyes as you reached forward so that you could playfully hit him. “I know I’m the worst at that game, but it doesn’t make it any less fun.”

“Okay, come on, let’s go play,” Steve said before standing up, and then reaching his hands out toward you so that he could help you up.

He was trying to cheer you up, you could clearly see that, and you almost took him up on his suggestion. But, the thought of leaving your bathroom or even the comfort of the tub didn’t sit well with you. Mainly since you were unsure if Charlie was still out there and you didn’t want to see him or what he was doing because you knew you’d only feel embarrassed all over again. Yes, it was your apartment and you could’ve easily kicked him out if he was still there, but it felt so much easier to simply stay right where you were.

You looked up at Steve and shook your head. “I don’t really wanna play, actually.”

Steve sat back down with you. “Okay, I haven’t seen you this upset over a guy in a long time. What is it about Charlie? Why is he so special?”

It only took a second for an answer to come to your mind because it was something that you had actually been thinking about a lot lately but had yet to verbalize it.

“I don’t– I don’t even think it’s really about him specifically. It’s just, I’m so tired of having crushes— of liking a guy and it going absolutely nowhere… I want something real. It’s been what feels like forever, and the last time was with that guy whose name we will never say in this house. And we both know how that horrific relationship ended.” It was rare that you ever talked about that relationship anymore, so hearing you mention it right then— even in just a minor way— actually surprised Steve, it even surprised you a little bit. That relationship was something that went on from the end of your Sophomore year of high school to the middle of Junior year; close to a year of your life that you really wished you could get back because you put up with a lot of shit that you now knew you shouldn’t have.

“I want something good for once, and I thought that maybe I could have that with Charlie. I thought maybe he wasn’t an asshole. But, now I’m back at fucking square one, and it’s just so…” You trailed off with a sigh, not bothering to finish your statement.

“It’ll happen. You’ll find someone. Someone actually good,” Steve told you, his voice was soft and you could hear the sincerity behind his words.

You let out a sigh and leaned your head back against the wall. “Sometimes I hate talking about relationship stuff with you.”

“What? Why?” Steve asked. He sounded genuinely confused and for a second you felt bad because there wasn’t supposed to be anything you didn’t like talking about with him— you were best friends.

“Because you can get a date with any girl ever, and you could probably easily be in a committed, serious thing if you wanted to. Meanwhile, I’m getting rejected left and right or falling for complete idiots,” You answered, letting the words fall out and not really thinking about them too much because they just felt way too true. However, once they fully registered in your head, you could feel yourself inwardly cringing. “Ew. Oh, God, I sound pathetic. Please forget I said anything.”

“It’s not true,” Steve told you with an immediate shake of his head. You almost said “Which part?” but he continued before you could ask that question. “I go on dates, yeah. But, none of them are close to, or are even leading to, something real. Even if I wanted it to, the girls I date don’t want something real with me.”

You considered his words for a second. “Well, in that case, they’re idiots.”

“Charlie’s an idiot too.”

“Cheers to that,” You responded. “God, I wish I was drunk right now.”

Steve laughed at your words and then opened his mouth to say something. For some reason, you had a feeling that he was going to try and coax you out of the bathroom again, and you were still unsure if you wanted to get up just yet, so you decided to say something before he could. “Do you ever want something serious?”

He was quiet for a second, as if really thinking about your question. “I don’t know… It changes a lot.” You nodded at that before he continued. “Most of the time I think I do, though.”

“Well, with what you just said about the girls you date and with what happened to me tonight, I think you and I are just gonna be alone together forever.”

He let out a small laugh. “I think so too.”

You smiled at him. “And I know that should sound at least a little bit sad, but right now, it honestly doesn’t.”

He smiled back at you. “Yeah, that actually sounds okay.”

Neither of you got the chance to say anything else because the sound of the door opening caught both of your attention.

“Okay, two things,” You both recognized Robin’s voice before she pulled back the curtain to look down at you two. “One, I really need to pee so I need you both to get out of here, please. And two, Eddie pulled Harold out of his cage and is trying to teach him to do tricks.”

You groaned as you started standing up. “Oh, God. Not again.”

Steve followed suit, standing up as well, as he rolled his eyes. “Why is that always his go-to thing to do when he’s high?”

Robin laughed, you easily noticed how tipsy she was. “And what makes it even funnier is that he does this all the time but Harold has not actually learned any “trick” yet.”

“The day that Eddie somehow teaches him how to “roll over,” I will pass away in shock,” You said as you adjusted your dress, fixing how much it had ridden up while you were sitting in the tub.

You and Steve stepped out of your bathroom to let Robin use it. But, you hesitated to open your bedroom door and let you two step back into the party happening in the rest of the apartment.

Steve easily noticed your hesitation and his hand found yours, giving it a light reassuring squeeze. “You handle Eddie, and if Charlie is still here, I’ll tell him to leave, okay?”

You inwardly sighed in relief hearing him say that because, of course, he knew the exact thing you had been worried about.

“Thanks.” There was so much more said in the simple one-word— thank you for reading my mind, thank you for always being able to do so, thank you for being the best goddamn person in my life.

Steve nodded and gave your hand another squeeze, hearing all of those underlying words and then some. “I have been waiting all night to do this, actually, so thank you. And we’re playing the Uno drinking game after.”

You smiled at that and gave him a quick nod. “Okay.”

You then opened your door and stepped out, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze of your own before pulling away as you started making your way toward Eddie, who was sitting on the couch with Harold in his lap. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected when you briefly noticed Charlie standing in your kitchen and talking to the same girl he had pointed out to you earlier.

“Edward Munson put Harold back in his cage right now.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(also requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

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scholastic-dragon · 21 days

Note

HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! ✨

I love your writing and when I saw your birthday post I was so psyched!

Would you please write something about the turtles (Bayverse or ROTTMNT, your choice) and the worst time/ place they’ve gotten erect? Maybe how the deal with it? Why they got aroused in the first place? Let your mind run wild ;)

Sometimes your partner or crush just gets to you and you can’t control your desire ;>

• Female reader/ or what ever you’re comfortable writing for

• Developed or no developed relationship

•All the turtles or just one you really like to write for (up to you)

• A short story or head-canons work equally well

Essentially go with whatever you feel most comfortable writing for with the prompt! Thank you! And have fun /^v^/

Also here’s some birthday cake for the road! 🎂 🍰🧁🎉

HAHAHAHAHHAHA I love this

Erection Directions

I'm thinking bay!boys but either works

MINORS DNI - LOTS OF SEXY STUFF BELOW - TURTLES ARE 20+ IN THIS - DONT BE WEIRD

Leo

Well....you see.... it was patrol

It was a slow night, they weren't planning on going out, everyone's in a bad mood

And then you call

And he let's the guys take a break and sneaks off behind a secluded wall to answer the call

"Hey love, were on patrol is there somehting you need-"

"I think I need you to come over and fuck me,"

😳 (the turtle was too stunned to speak)

Swallows his tongue and has to clear his throat before responding.

You flirt and banter for a moment, then it becomes clear that your hand in inside your blue panties (that you sent a lewd picture of)

"Baby, I can't I'm on patrol" He responds after you ask for a video of his "achingly hard cock" as he put it

"How am I supposed to get off if I don't hear your pretty moans?" You tease

Damn

Peering around the wall, he unzips his pants and aims the camera at his hard cock. He catches the soft moan from his lips and his thumb rubbing precum along the shaft.

After a minute he stops recording and sends it your way. He hears your excited moan over the phone.

He grips himself harder.

"I wish you were here right now, inside me instead of my hand,"

That makes him stroke faster, your voice, the knowledge that he's doing this out in the cold night air spurring him on.

He feels his release getting closer, and he hears your responding moans.

"I'm gonna-"

"Oi, fearless!" Like the ass he is, raph comes around the corner.

Leo drops his phone in an attempt to cover himself. "Come on!" He yells.

Raph turns and yells, both to him and Donnie and Mikey. "I'm fucking done, I'm going home, fuck this!"

Donnie asks. "What happened?"

"He's fucking jerking it!" The red brute yells, making the other two start complaining.

"Whyd we even come out here?!"

"I had work to do that you made me put down!"

Leo scrambles on the ground, putting his hand over the microphone. "Patrols over, go home!" He simply yells

He sighs and tucks his own soft cock into his pants. He's upset and extremely embarrassed.

When he lifts the phone to his ear, he hears you laughing your ass off.

Raph

It was the weights room

He lives in there

And you, his new and flashy crush, are now also "living" in here

You claimed it was stupid to pay for a gym membership when you could simply hang out here

And because he's in love with you, he agreed

Now, he regrets it.

You're doing squats while holding a dumbell and the way your ass and thighs look right now should be illegal.

He's laying on the bench press, not even trying to be sneaky as he watches you go up....and down....and up.....and down

And now something else is up

Very up and not at all sneaky.

His head snaps to the ceiling, his hands shaking as he holds the bar above his head.

His heart is pounding hard. A lot like how hard he wants to pound you-

He shakes his head and the bar nearly comes crashing down on his face

"Raph!" You rush over and stand above his head, grabbing the bar around his fingers and lifting it (with his help)

And great, now he's got a view of the underside of your breasts, and the sweet sweaty skin of your bare stomach. Oh, and your delicious thighs are there too.

His cock pulses beneath his shorts.

"Are you okay?" You help him put the bar back, leaning over to look down at him.

Now he can see your cleavage.

"Um" He goes to answer but no words come out.

You sigh and straighten up, and your eyes rake down his body.

He tenses. Your eyes go wide and your cheeks flame.

Shit.

Donnie

Donnie was working under the truck

He's on a custom made rolling cart, his hips peeking out from under thr garbage truck.

He's got headphones on, listening to an audio book you recommended.

It's a romance and the characters just had their first kiss.

He's working and listening, not really paying attention.

"His lips traveled down her neck, making a spike of heat run down her body to her pussy"

Woah

He stopped working for a moment, swallowing hard and taking in what was happening.

The scene progressed and got dirtier and dirtier, to the point where he was aching and hard in his pants

It was late, no one was awake.

He rolled out from under the truck, wiped off his hands and undid his pants.

He tried to match the pace of the book, and man this person was doing a really good job on the voices

For a moment he imagined you and him fooling around like the characters were

His strokes became fast. Slick sounds filling the quiet garage

As the characters hit their peak, so did he, moaning softly and cumming in his hand, it spills down onto his chest and pants.

He sighs, opening his eyes and nearly passing out.

On the other side of the garage, your sitting with your hand in your pants, your lip caught between your teeth

Your eyes meet.

He removes the headphones, feeling hot and sweaty at your flushed cheeks

You smile, all seductive and it makes his cock twitch.

"Chapter 24?"

Hes up and rushing to you, fully intending on acting out the full Chapter.

Mikey

It's while you and him are making dinner

It's mundane and it smells almost as good as you do

You have a smile on your face as you try to remember what each brother likes and it makes his heart warm

He stirs the gravy and asks you to come try it.

He doesn't expect you to take his wrist and lead his spoon to your lips. Wrapping it around the silver and sucking the gravy off.

Now other things are warm

"Mmm!" You moan, licking your lips. "That's really good mike!"

Very warm

It stays that way until everyone is eating at the table

Mikey sees your eyes drift down his plastron as a drop of gravy falls off his bite of potatoes

Your breath catches as you notice the tent in his shorts

Everyone is busy taking and chatting about... oh he has no idea what anybody is talking about

Especially when you smirk and let your hand sneak under the table

You grip his thigh and he nearly cums in his pants from that

You scratch your way up his leg, griping him through his shorts and underwear

He shoves food in his mouth to keep from being too loud. Your hand feels amazing

It's a bit clumsy with the angle and clothes in the way, but he's still very much so getting off

He manages to keep himself quiet as he cums, staning his shorts. You shoot him another cheeky smile.

The hand that was griping him, moves the the table and "accidentally" knocks over a glass of water onto his lap

He gasps at the cold and everyone turns to look

"Oh, mike, I'm sorry! I'm so clumsy!" Your eyes flash with mischief

"It's fine, y/n," He touches your arm. "Come help me get some towels to clean this up,"

No towels were got, but a big mess was made.

@thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @turtle-babe83

#i had a little too much fun with this lmao #theyre idiots your honor #and i love them #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donnie #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt mikey #tmnt x reader #tmnt aged up #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt headcanons #it is my works #thanks for the ask!

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lillithhearts · 4 months

Note

Can I please request a Vox x Angel Wife Reader? (Angst) (PS: The two had a big fight to the point Vox yelled at Reader "I wish you never existed" and because of that Reader was gone for 3 weeks until Reader came back and save vox's ass from an exterminator and took the shot for him and so Reader dies in his arms as Vox denies what was infront of him)

Have a nice day/afternoon/night 🥰

Vox x Angel!Wife!Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA???

Warnings : not Proofread, Character death

Vox had found you when you first arrived in Hell; he offered you a hand as he smiled his signature smile at you. He enjoyed the fact you didn't know him yet still respected him; and he watched over you with every eye he has around Pride to make sure nobody touches a single feather on your newly groomed wings.

That's why you had this expensive and shining wedding band around your finger as you sat atop a building; your husbands words from last night running through your head like a broken recorder as tears pooled up in your eyes, the feeling of loneliness and helplessness quietly creeping into your head as recounts of the fight swirled in your head.

"Y/n this is absolutely ridiculous you can't do things like this! Hell is dangerous"

You stood in front of the TV demon; the anger and worry mixed in his screen evident while you found the words to say to him.

"I can handle myself..! I'm not so weak as you think I've gotten stronger"

Vox had a habit of being possessive and protective; you could be the strongest being in Pride and he'd act like a mother hen and you knew that.

"no you can't! You can barely say excuse you to the demons flooding at our entrance door! You are so— irritating, if I could go back I would've left you in that turf war!"

The silence in the room grew heavy; Vox's eyes widened as the words he spoke registered in his head he stepped forward and tried to hold your hands a piece of him shattering as you quickly stepped back, inhaling a deep breath as you cleared your throat; fighting back the tears and feelings welling up inside you, you walked passed your husband and to the double doors, not a word from you or him as Vox watched you leave.

You watched from the tall building at the Extermination a few weeks later, you knew Vox was worried but you could handle yourself. Having bought a angelic gun from Carmilla a week before; deciding you'd be spending the Extermination outside and not safe in your husbands arms

Your eyes caught a familiar silhouette speed walking and avoiding the dead and skewered bodies; his TV screen flashing with every passing second it looked like his head was about to implode; his hands visibly shaking doing a double take on every dead body he saw, hoping it wasn't you. This was a short walk outside as your body jolted up watching the familiar figure get tackled down, you made your way down and watched Vox fight off the Angel with what power he did have; his power having no effect on the Angel in the long run you aimed your gun at the Exorcists head and pulled the trigger, a feeling of pride washed over you watching the angel fall; before his voice called out for you.

"behind you!"

A loud ringing entered your ears, looking down you saw the Halberd sticking through your stomach; Vox reacted and grabbed the gun you had, finishing the exorcist that had attacked you, letting you fall into his arms; he was saying something but the screams of other sinners mixed with the ringing blocked your ability to hear him. You stumbled forward, walking away to an alley you saw while your vision blurred. you heard Vox tell you to stop moving and sit down. Finally arriving in the more silent alley you quietly guided Vox onto the floor; getting in-between his legs and laying your head on his chest, a quiet, strained wince leaving your hoarse throat as the tip of the Halberd was pushed back by the concrete; the ringing and adrenaline running out you finally heard your husbands babbling.

"Y/n! Get up we have to get you help— or to the tower at least c'mon! Don't be stupid"

The tears came back into your eyes as your eyelids fluttered shut and you relaxed in his arms, no sign of moving

"Y/n I..I'm so sorry for everything I said"

"I know..it's okay"

You heard Vox's sobs as his grip on you tightened, his body starting to shake at your voice, your sweet; soft voice now filled with pain and exhaustion

"you know I didn't mean it i-"

"I know.."

Your breathing was getting rigid as you felt life slipping away from your warm hands; a surprisingly serene feeling engulfing you as you smiled ignoring the iron taste in your mouth

"I love you..I want you to know that; forever"

"I love you too, Vox..Thank you for being in my life"

The overlords heart raced, watching his beloved die in his arms; knowing the thought that he hated her swimming through his head as he clasped her shaking hand in his own, the sound of glitching sobs and apologies was all that was heard from the Cruel overlord as he mourned his little sweet Angel.

Authors note: I didn't cry during this wdym?? I'll try and write a few more prompts today! Stay tuned

tag list : @charlessuu @k1y0yo @ihavetoomanyfictionalcrushes

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel fic #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel

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callsign-venus · 6 months

Text

I'll Be Home for Christmas | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Description: With Bradley on deployment, you don't find the Christmas season as cheery as usual. The Daggers make it their mission to help you get into the holiday spirit. Cue intensely competitive gingerbread house decorating competition.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Fluff with a teeny dash of angst. Drinking. That’s pretty much it. Really just self-indulgent, friendship-heavy fluff with lots of pining. Enjoy x

Nat King Cole’s voice dances out of your record player has you put the finishing touches on your cranberry Aperol spritzes. Their cherry warm color makes you smile despite yourself.

You have always loved Christmas, but this year it hits you like a truck – and not even one with a tree strapped on top. All the little traditions that usually warm your heart with holiday cheer feel just plain sad to do alone. You had a tremendous battle with your artificial tree, which fell on you twice. You were proud of yourself for not crying, and in the end you were able to admire all of its eight feet of glory. Then you remembered you had to light the whole thing. Two hours later, you had undone no less than three tangles of light strands, found out two of them were dead (and all your untangling had been for nothing), and had one big cry fest for yourself. Not even a steaming cup of cocoa made you feel better after that disaster.

Wrapping presents for your friends and family, rewatching all your favorite Christmas movies, and driving around rich people neighborhoods to admire their lights hadn’t gone as poorly, but they all made his absence grow harder to ignore.

When Bradley told you his deployment would last through the holidays, you struggled to keep your disappointment to yourself, though you’re sure he could see it shining in your eyes. As much as you would miss him during the holidays, you knew it was worse for him, with only emails and skype calls for comfort – no silly little Christmas rituals to occupy his mind.

“You need help in here?” Natasha’s voice jolts you out of your pity-party spiral.

“No, I just got distracted,” you say, scooping up two of the spritzes and offering her one. “Let’s get this party started.”

Phoenix smiles and accepts your cocktail. She herself had just gotten back from her own deployment, and pretty immediately sensed your holiday ennui. She was the one who suggested this festive evening, and you’ve never been more grateful for her friendship.

While you were listless in the kitchen, she had assembled the most perfect gingerbread house making station you’d ever seen: frosting packed into several near-bursting bags, candy canes arranged in perfect rows, gumdrops with a shimmering dusting of sugar, and a scattering of gingerbread roofs and walls waiting patiently to be dressed.

“Wow, Nat, this looks great.”

“Thank you. I’m sure the boys will mess it up in three seconds flat, but at least you appreciate it.”

As if on cue, your front door bursts open, and a clot of merrily dressed sailors spills into your home, arms stacked with presents for Secret Santa. You point to the open space under the Christmas tree, and quickly your and Natasha’s presents are joined by all the others.

After the presents are unloaded, you and Phoenix are engulfed in hugs. Fanboy is wearing a Santa hat, and he has two in hand that he passes to you and Phoenix, insisting that you put them on right now. You happily oblige, as you’re inching closer to how you usually feel during the holidays now that you’re surrounded by friends. Even Jake is cheery, having rocked up in an ugly Christmas sweater covered with bows and tinsel, which is bizarre yet comforting. You do your best not to think about the person you wish was here most, as the Daggers seem dead set to help you have a great Christmas despite his absence.

“This is for you, our gracious host.” Bob hands you a potted poinsettia. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“It’s really no problem,” you insist as you place the flowers on the side table by your couch. “I love you all.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Still, we’re a lot, I know.”

He’s not wrong – Coyote and Payback have already found the spritzes and Fanboy’s popped three gumdrops into his mouth – but you don’t mind. Even when the gingerbread house decorating competition starts. Calling it a competition might be an understatement. The Daggers are more than competitive, especially about inconsequential things. Nobody speaks as they draft their houses in bright white icing and stud them with decorative candies. The only way to get them to quiet is through arts and crafts, you muse as you decorate your house with swirls of icing like snow drifts and tiny snowflakes dotting the roof and walls.

The sabotage begins early, when Hangman reaches for a bowl of peppermints and not-so-subtly brushes his hand over Phoenix's roof, smearing the frosting.

“Hey asshole,” Natasha says. “That’s my house.”

“Oh really? Looks like you got a little smear there.” Jake slides a finger across Phoenix’s carefully piped shingles, messing up her roof even more.

“You’re a dead man, Seresin.” Nat narrows her eyes. She won’t go for Jake’s gingerbread house, she’ll bide her time. You’re glad you’re not Hangman right now.

“Got anymore spritzes?” Coyote asks you.

You nod your head. “In the kitchen, help yourself.”

When Coyote gets up to refill his glass, Fanboy snatches his piping bag and swaps it for his almost empty one. While Fanboy’s distracted, Payback helps himself to the pile of Twizzlers Fanboy’s been hoarding since the beginning of the competition.

“Who is even going to judge these?” You ask almost absentmindedly as you stand a gingerbread couple together at the door of their house with copious amounts of frosting. “We all know whose house is whose.”

There’s a smattering of laughter.

“We’ll figure it out after Secret Santa,” Nat assures you as she completes the retiling of her roof, the eaves perfectly punctuated with peppermints.

Before you can question the logic of that solution, Bob asks for your opinion on colored versus strictly green and red gum drops.

“Hey, no helping the competition,” Fanboy complains.

“What?” You level a heavy gaze on him. “Scared you won’t win if Bob and I combine forces? I would be.”

“I’m just saying, this should be a fair contest,” he says.

You shrug him off and answer Bob, but in the spirit of sabotage, you neglect to tell him about the frosting dried on his cheek.

Even though you’re risking your gingerbread house’s safety, once you’ve finished, you slip into the hall. You refresh your inbox on your phone, and you smile as you see an email from Bradley.

Subject: Miss you

Hey pretty girl. Been missing you all day today. Wish I was there to hang stockings and give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen. Don’t forget to hang it – you can leave it up until I get back. Don’t have a lot of time, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you and I can’t wait to come home to you.

Your heart flutters, as it always does when you get an email from him. You quickly type out a response.

Subject: Miss you more

Hey hot stuff. I’ve already hung the mistletoe and have no plans to take it down until you make me see stars under it. I miss doing holiday things with you (you really know how to wrangle the tree), but Nat especially has been helping me through it. Still, I really miss you. All I need is your arms around me and everything will feel right again. Can’t wait to see you again.

You press send and sigh. You never want to complain – it’s Bradley who had to live on an aircraft carrier for months at a time – but sometimes it feels so unfair for two people to be so in love and yet spend the holidays all alone.

You give yourself a moment to collect yourself before you go back to the increasingly hostile competition. Jake has icing in his hair – you know Phoenix is responsible, but her wrath won’t end there – and Payback’s house had a giant fist-sized crater in the roof. Surely unrelated, Coyote’s knuckles are dusted with gingerbread crumbs. You couldn’t help the smile the chaotic scene pulled from you. Especially since your gingerbread house remains in pristine condition.

You thank Nat for watching over it, and she responds with a bright smile. “No problem, I can’t have the boys messing up your Christmas celebration.”

“Hey!” All the boys except Bob protest in unison. Phoenix raises her brows, point proven.

Once all of the gingerbread houses are complete and aligned in a row like a candied neighborhood block, the party shifts toward the Christmas tree. Bob distributes presents to each of you. Yours is an envelope, and you know it is from Nat. Your name is written on the thick, cream paper in Nat’s graceful script, which you know like your own after years of friendship.

“No one can beat my present,” Nat boasts as she catches you studying the envelope.

“Oh we’ll see,” Coyote says.

You swallow down a little lump, seeing everyone around the tree without Rooster. Though you love and appreciate your friends, the emptiness of his presence is almost smothering.

Your mood warms when Jake volunteers to go first. You’re his Secret Santa, and just as you predicted, he loves the smartphone-controlled paper airplane you got for him. He opens it and has it folded in a matter of seconds. He syncs it to his phone, and his first flight ends with the plane crashing into Coyote’s head.

“Durable.” Hangman remarks as he picks up the paper airplane, which holds its shape just fine.

“Asshole.” Coyote replies.

Payback is next, and he gets a bottle of scotch from Jake. You don’t know much about scotch, but from Payback’s reaction, you can tell it’s a really nice bottle.

Coyote gets Bob a navy Aran sweater, which Bob wastes no time throwing on.

“Feel how soft!” Bob says as he smothers Coyote in a hug. Cue three minutes of Bob inviting everyone to touch his sweater – you can’t blame him, though, it is really soft.

Bob’s gift to Coyote makes you wonder how Nat is going to top it. Bob made a crochet version of Taffy, Coyote’s miniature pinscher.

“Thank you, I love it.” Coyote cradles the crocheted dog tight, and you wonder if you’re just imagining the tremble in his voice or if he’s actually about to cry.

“Come on Javy,” Jake says, “don’t go all soft now.”

Fanboy gets a countertop pizza oven from Payback, which instantly becomes one of his most prized possessions based on the sheer amount of pizza he consumes.

“Thanks, man.” He gives Payback a friendly punch on the arm. “You all have to come over for pizza night.”

You all hum in agreement. Fanboy’s pizzas are amazing, and you wouldn’t mind spending another night with everyone together. Well, almost everyone. You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Phoenix opens her gift from Fanboy slowly, as if she’s afraid of its contents. She peels back the shiny green paper to reveal a charcuterie board and a set of cheese knives with wooden handles that match the board. She hugs it close to her chest and mouths thank you across the room to Fanboy, who doesn’t notice because he’s reading the pizza recipe included with his oven.

Finally it is your turn. All eyes in the room land on you, strangely sober despite the freely flowing spritzes. You give Phoenix a quick glance as you slide a finger under the flap of the envelope, but her expression is unreadable.

“It's a…” you say as your fingers graze a satiny band of fabric. “Blindfold?”

You hold it up for everyone to see. Everyone’s expressions are carefully arranged to not convey anything. Not quite the laughter you were expecting. A sense of uneasiness blooms in your stomach.

Nat stands up and takes the blindfold out of your hands. Quicker than you can think, she’s tying it around your head.

“What is going on?” You ask.

She finishes the bow and pats your shoulder. “Just you wait.”

A few suppressed snickers fill the room and make your uneasiness melt into dread. The gentle shush of a door opening and closing makes it worse.

“I swear, if you guys are ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas-ing’ me right now I will be so angry.”

The silence that falls after you speak is so, so loud. No one turned the record, so even Nat King Cole is quiet. But then you hear it. It’s hard to explain, but you’d know that breathing anywhere. You’d spent many nights falling asleep to that gentle lullaby or hearing it as he held you close in the kitchen, neither of you caring that dinner was burning on the stove.

You rip off the blindfold, and there he is. Bradley. Bradley. Standing next to your Christmas tree, a bow tied around his chest. The Daggers surround him like magician’s assistants, all their hands raised in a sort of ta-da manner.

You leap off the couch and into his waiting arms. He smells like an aircraft carrier and shitty coffee, his clothes rough and government-issued, and his hair cropped a little too close to his head than you know he likes – but he’s yours. He’s yours in the way his embrace consumes you, blurring the line between you and him, erasing the months and miles of distance between the two of you. He’s yours in the way the beat of his heart drums in rhythm with your own. Yours in the way that you are his as well. He lifts you up so your feet dance in the air, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

He sets you down and crashes his lips into yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth unabashedly, and despite your audience, you let him. The kiss is long enough that you start to feel bad for everyone else, so you sheepishly pull away.

“Goddamn, Rooster,” Hangman says, “let the girl breathe.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves the comment away.

But you don’t want to breathe. Not if your other option is to kiss Bradley until you’re both oxygen starved. Because you’re starved for him, need to feed on his presence.

Then the realization sets in. Rooster is supposed to be deployed for another month. You wheel around to face Nat. “How the hell did you do this?”

She shrugs. “Loverboy emailed me last week, just after I got home from my deployment. Said he was coming home earlier than expected, and he wanted to surprise you.”

“Wait, so all of you knew?” You pointedly look at everyone, but nobody can quite keep eye contact with you.

Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. “They all did pretty good keeping it under wraps, huh?”

“I would hope so, given our clearance levels,” Jake says.

Everyone laughs, but you’re still reeling. You can’t believe Bradley is here. His calloused fingers rubbing the skin of your back, just under the hem of your shirt. His gentle laugh reverberating against your body, reminding you what wholeness feels like. His lips, slightly chapped (with none of your chapstick to steal on the carrier), murmuring into your hair. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know what he means nonetheless.

You’d imagined Bradley’s homecoming as a flurry of ripped clothes, bruising kisses, and mutual insatiable hunger, but this is better. All of your friends in the same room, sharing in this festive homecoming, looking like absolute dorks. Fanboy’s Santa hat sits askew on his head. Payback and Coyote are obviously drunk off their asses (they definitely pregamed the festivities, as Payback has been reduced to giggles and Coyote has actual tears streaming down his face). Jake has yet to realize the frosting in his hair, Bob the frosting on his face. And Natasha is a dork by association. You and Bradley too. But the overwhelming love in the room makes you want to sob happy tears.

Bradley happily indulges you all in judging the gingerbread houses. He gets down to eye level with each entry, runs his fingers along the roofs, occasionally snaps off a piece of candy and pops it in his mouth.

“Very good job, everyone.” He speaks to the group as if you’re all kindergartners, reveling in the building anticipation. There’s never a prize for Dagger competitions, but there doesn’t need to be. Bragging rights is all they need, no matter how menial the situation.

Bradley carefully reshuffles the houses in order from last to first place. Fanbody. Jake. Payback. Coyote. Nat. He purposefully shields first and second place. Only you and Bob are left – maybe the least competitive people in the room – and still, tension is thick in the air.

“And the winner…” Bradley’s voice booms like an old-fashioned gameshow host, “...is…”

He finally slides to the side to reveal your house sitting in first place.

Bob sticks his hand up for a high five. Your hands collide with a solid thunk.

“Not fair,” Fanboy protests. “Rooster’s obviously biased.”

“Come on, he didn’t know whose house was whose,” Phoenix says. “Besides, you weren’t even in the top five, and Payback had a hole in his roof.”

“It’s ok, Nat,” you voice oozes with fake sympathy. “I’d be upset too if I spent so much time on a shit gingerbread house.”

Fanboy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh you want to play that game?”

He lunges around the table, and you immediately grab Bradley to use as a human shield.

“Lots of talk from someone who’s gonna hide behind her boyfriend,” he says teasingly.

“I’m not hiding.” You tighten your grip on Bradley’s waist, his hands covering yours. “You can get to me, you’re just gonna have to get through him first.”

Bradley puffs out his chest. “Nobody disparages the gingerbread contest queen. She earned her title by being the best.”

Later, because he can’t keep a secret from you (the only thing that saved the Secret Santa surprise was only being able to communicate through email), Bradley confesses that he knew which house was yours the moment he saw it. But still, that one little detail doesn’t negate the fact that you are the gingerbread contest queen.

And Bradley defends your honor well as you maneuver him from behind to keep a distance between yourself and Fanboy. Eventually, Bob steps in to broker a peace deal to end the conflict. Somehow, you are roped in for bringing more spritzes to Fanboy’s pizza night, but he can no longer dispute the fact that you have the best gingerbread house. A win is a win, and your gloating privileges remain.

Later, when everyone is winding down and glancing at their coats hanging by the door, Bradley pulls you into the kitchen.

“Honey, I think our guests are about to leave.” You try to move back toward the living room, but Bradley keeps hold of your hand. “Please, let’s not be rude.”

He shakes his head. “They’ll understand. They know. They know exactly what it's like.”

You relent because he’s right. Even you don’t know what it’s like. Loneliness has been a long lingering companion of yours, but you suffer her presence at home surrounded by close comforts and your parents a short drive away. For Bradley, for Nat, for Jake, for Bob and all the rest, it’s different. It’s their job. They suffer loneliness with mostly long shifts and shitty food for company.

So you let Bradley chase out his – and your – loneliness in the kitchen. As he pulls you ever closer, his palms flattening you against him, you wonder how you ever survived apart when it was so clear that your souls were really just one.

You break away panting. God knows how long you were indulging, but you just about jump out of your skin when you realize Phoenix is in the kitchen right behind you, pouring herself a glass of champagne.

Your cheeks warm. “Nat!”

“Sorry, didn’t bother me, so I didn’t want to bother you.” She shrugs. “Want a glass?”

You decline, and you and Bradley shuffle out of the kitchen like teenagers caught in the act. Nearly everyone is shrugging their coats on, chatting about the night, when they catch sight of the two of you.

“Now, just where in the hell did y’all run off to?” Jake prods.

You can’t even look at them.

“Just the kitchen,” Rooster says, locking his hand in yours. “Needed to make sure the champagne was still flowing.”

Everyone shares the same knowing look that makes you want to shove them all out the door. Instead, you and Bradley post up at the door like perfect hosts and thank everyone for coming as they slip into the surprisingly chilly night. Then, only you, Bradley, and Phoenix are left.

While everyone was saying their goodbyes, she was sipping her champagne and quietly wiping sugar, gingerbread crumbs, and crusted frosting off the dining table.

“You bitch,” you say as you swoop in to help her clean up. “How come you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out?”

She laughs and takes another sip of wine. “Why don’t you ask Rooster?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. He sheepishly grins.

“In my defense,” he says, “it was a really good surprise.”

“I can’t believe you two.” You laugh. “But thank you for the surprise. It was wonderful.”

You try to direct your gratitude to them both, but something in Rooster’s expression snags your gaze and won’t let go. There’s still an unsatiated hunger heavy in his eyes.

Nat sets down her now empty glass. “Alright, lovebirds, I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

She gathers her things, and you walk her to the door.

“Thank you.” You give her a hug. Neither of you are super touchy, but your gratitude for her tonight is almost endless. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” She squeezes you tight before letting go. “Goodnight, Rooster!”

“Goodnight!” He calls from somewhere deep in the house.

“Sounds like he’s waiting for you,” she winks. “See you soon.”

“Get home safe!”

And with that, it’s just the two of you. You expect Bradley to pounce the second the door closes, but he doesn’t appear as you linger by the doorway. Odd. You check the kitchen, living room, and dining room. All empty.

“Bradley?” You call.

“Right here.”

His response floats from down the hallway, from your bedroom.

And sure enough, there he stands in the doorway. Right under the mistletoe you hung up earlier in the week, the biggest grin on your face when you pictured his homecoming some time after New Years, all the Christmas decorations gone except the lonely mistletoe, waiting patiently for his arrival. But now, you can put the mistletoe to good use while Christmas is still bright on the horizon. The warmth of the season bleeds into the warmth of your kiss. Christmas will come as surely as it would have if Bradley was on deployment, but now you welcome it. You want lazy days sipping eggnog and baking cookies. You want late, festive nights at the Hard Deck with the Daggers, getting into pool competitions with Bradley as your loyal teammate despite how disastrous you are at pool, assured in his easy we-lose-together attitude. You want a Christmas morning with presents that don’t matter because the best gift you could ask for has already appeared right by your tree tonight, wrapped in a bow.

“Don’t leave me ever again,” you whisper against his chest.

“I won’t,” he says, “I won’t.”

You both know it’s not something you can ask of him, not a promise he can keep. It’s not fair to either of you to pretend like this will be his last homecoming, the last time you both are starved of each other for months. But right now, it feels good to pretend.

You can’t think long about his future deployments, however. Your worries melt away as Bradley makes good on his promise to give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff

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blueberrypancakesworld · 1 year

Note

The lack of charlie fics on this app should be illegal so you’re doing gods work 🧎🏻‍♀️

could you please do more perv creepy charlie

Perv!Charlie Walker ~ headcanon 2

warning : obsession , touching without consent , sexual assault basicaly , drugging, touching , hurt , clueless reader , obsessed Charlie Walker , obsessive love , pervert Charlie Walker , kidnapping , dark themes , open ending , alkohol , one-sided love

Info : Thank you for your kind words anon. I appreciate that really and if god don't do his work...well I'm happy to do it ;)

first part , third part

masterlist

++++++++++++++++++++++

°It had been a few days since he had put the cameras in her room. But his obsession, his search for her, had not diminished. It had gotten worse.

°Every free minute of the weekend he had watched her on the screen through the cameras. He recorded everything he could see of her and imagined her with him.

°He felt how excited he was when Monday came and he finally saw her again. He only half heard Robbie talking as he gave her a smile and wished her a ,,Good morning". His heart beat faster when he heard her voice, her eyes on him and she thanked him for his help with her mobile phone.

°My best work he thought as he watched her disappear into the history room. Her mobile phone in his defence was not broken at first, it was a coincidence that played into his hands. Which is why he had happily taken care of her phone. Now he could not only see all her messages but also keep an eye on her location all the time.

°You're slowly becoming mine he thought and a brief smile crept onto his lips as his hand went into his pocket and he stroked the soft fabric of her panties. It would all be a matter of time.

°The hours passed and the lunch break arrived while Charlie looked at a table outside with Robbie, the brown-haired man fixed her with his gaze. Because of the heat you had put on a top with a short skirt and seemed to show him so much of your body outside your room that a confidence mixed with obsession came out in Charlie that for a moment he wasn't sure if he should go over to you right away, keep watching you from a distance without your knowledge...or sink a knife into you.

°Maybe all together he thought and bit into his apple as a sigh came over his lips. You would taste sweeter he was sure. You just had to be his in a moment of carelessness.

°The lunch break came to an end and when the bell rang to end the lesson he went over to her to escort her to the film club. It was a normal meeting, a briefing for the incoming Stabathon, the final formalities. ,,I mean I'm looking forward to the films but now?" he heard her question and had to stifle a laugh. So naive he thought with a grin even as his eyes wandered over her form.

°He would have done anything for her safety, even if it meant killing her and his classmates. But that was something of a means to an end. Along with Jill, it would be something that would only bring him closer to her. Though their question was quickly overrun by shouts and disagreements, he addressed her after the meeting.

°There was a fake worry in his voice as he said, ,,Don't worry about the Stabathon. I don't think Ghostface would hit in such a crowd, it's not like him" he said and smiled at her carefully. He saw her think about his words for a moment. Before he saw her relief.

°She wasn't stupid, he knew that, but she had no idea about his second persona. She had no idea what lurked inside him, what he was capable of. ,,It will be fine," she said with relief and thanked him. He could hardly wait to see her at the Stabathon.

°The evening of the Stabathon came quickly and he found himself looking at his mobile phone to see where she was. But it stayed that way, the little red dot moving quickly towards the barn. What will she be wearing? he asked himself, letting his mind wander. A short skirt with a view of her legs so short that he could almost see her panties? Or a pair of tight jeans with a belly top with a view of her upper body? He could hardly wait to finally see her.

°A pleasant feeling ran through his body as she came in. A short tight black cocktail dress clung to her body. Showing enough skin to let Charlie use his imagination and yet not rush in to touch her. Just for me he thought and walked up beside Robbie to greet her.

°After a few exchanging words, he had managed to brush Robbie off and join her for the alcohol. He himself sipped a little from his cup before he saw her greet one of her friends and turn from him. Now's my chance he thought and reached into his pocket. Inwardly he thanked Jill for the small vial of sleeping pills she had stolen from her mother. One advantage of a killer duo. Like Billy and Stu he thought with a grin as the powder dissolved in the dark red drink.

°With a small nervous smile he handed her the drink and fixated her lips as she unknowingly took a sip. She tasted no difference and thanked him before joining her friends. Not knowing that it was only a matter of time. A matter of time before the drug took effect.

°When Stab One began, he stood behind the seats, half watching the film and half watching her. He had placed her in the back, out of sight of the crowd. Saw her touching her head from time to time and sipping her drink. Before she said something to her friends and stood up slightly unsteadily.

°He saw her walk towards the side exit and hold on to the wooden wall for a moment. It's time, he thought and withdrew from his seat before following her. It was noticeably cooler outside than it had been and he saw her seemingly trying to get some clarity in her head through the air. ,,Ch-Charlie?" she asked uncertainly as he came out of the shadows towards her. She had been leaning against one of the wooden bales outside.

°He couldn't help but smile and let the mask fall. His other insecurities that he couldn't seem to get rid of fell away. Every time he had the knife in his hand, saw the bodies and knew he was in control, he seemed like a changed man. ,,What's wrong? Are you not feeling well...are you dizzy, tired or even nauseous?" he enumerated and saw something like fear flicker in her tired gaze. ,,How...do you know?" she asked slowly and tried to move away from him.

°He tilted his head slightly before coming closer and placing one hand next to her head while the other reached for her hand gently and almost lovingly. ,,You don't know how long I've waited for this moment," he murmured and felt his heart beating fast. He finally touched her, she was so warm and soft. Her smell seemed to surround her. It was addictive.

°With his hand next to her head, he ran it over a strand of her hair. They were as soft as he had imagined. What noises she would make if he pulled on it, what would she tell him, confess and admit. Leaving her strand of hair behind, he gently ran his hand over her cheek for fear he might hurt her. The warm soft skin of her body. She was perfect.

°He felt her trying to free herself from his grip. ,,Too weak" he whispered and saw her trying to say something but the drug seemed to have clouded her mind. Finally, with one last attempt to free herself, she succumbed to the substance and passed out. ,,There you go," he praised her and caught her before observing her sleeping form for a moment.

°Brushing a strand of hair from her face, he felt the satisfaction and anticipation inside him as he took her with him.

+++++++++++++++++++++

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generalllimaginesss · 10 months

Text

A Night to Remember

Trevor Zegras imagine :)

As always, slightly proofread, so read at your own risk. Not too many warnings….kissing and a few cuss words maybe? Let me know if you want a part 2 or au!!

“I’m not going on a date with him,” Her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at her best friend in front of her.

“Hattie, please. He hasn’t shut up about you for like 3 years. Give him a chance,” Jack begged the girl.

Hatton and Jack had been best friends since diapers, practically inseparable, following the other wherever that may lead them. Platonic soulmates was the best way to describe the pair. When Trevor Zegras came into the picture, however, Hatton naturally developed feelings that were slightly jealous of his and Jack’s friendship. She learned to get over that feeling when she realized the boy wasn’t going anywhere. According to the boys they were the besties, but Hatton held up the fact that they were “the original besties plus Zegras.”

Trevor’s personality couldn’t be more different from Hatton’s. Where Trevor was outgoing, affable, and slightly obnoxious, Hatton was reserved, introverted, and didn’t go out of her way to make conversation with people she didn’t know well. She was the antithesis of everything that Trevor presented himself as. That didn’t stop the boy from being hopelessly in love with her for some time. Hatton couldn’t possibly keep count of the amount of times he had asked her on a date. The answer was always the same: absolutely not.

Jack was usually the buffer between the two, occasionally having to separate them from bickering like an old married couple.

“He’s annoying,” Hatton persisted, her stubbornness was impressive to the average person.

“Ok, I can’t argue with that, but he said please,” Jack pointed out, suggestively raising his eyebrows as he reasoned with his friend.

“I did say please,” Trevor’s voice called from the living room.

“See, he said please,” Jack couldn’t possibly finish this conversation without Hatton agreeing. He had about all he could take of being in the middle of the two.

Hatton groaned as she ran her fingers through her hair in annoyance. On one hand, she couldn’t give in after years of denying Trevor the chance to a date. She couldn’t possibly compromise her reputation of being hard-headed. On the other, however, she wondered if he would shut up about it if she just agreed to one simple date.

Jack could tell she was debating it internally, which was a win anyway. He had never gotten her to think this far ahead about it. He watched as Hatton began to chew the inside of her cheek, a habit she had when she was indecisive. Jack wore a smirk on his face as she slowly came around to the idea of a date.

“This is a one time thing, Hughes—you can wipe that smirk off your face right now. This means absolutely nothing except that I’m tired of him asking,” She set the record straight before anything else could be said.

Jack nodded his head feverishly as he squealed like a little girl. He ran from the kitchen and into the living room where Trevor was already on his feet doing a celebration dance. Hatton slowly removed herself from the stool at the bar and sluggishly walked to the boys.

“So I’m thinking tonight, I’ll pick you up at 8:00 and we can go get dinner at a surprise restaurant. After that we can go see the Barbie movie, and then after that we can go look at the stars,” Trevor rambled on as Hatton stood wide-eyed.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve had roughly 3 years to plan this so I don’t know why you act surprised that I have it planned out already,” Trevor was talking 90 miles per hour as he was collecting his keys, wallet, and phone off of the coffee table. He was dancing all the way to the door, but before he left he reminded Hatton of the time he would be picking her up.

“Oh! Dress kind of dressy. The restaurant is a little more on the formal side!” He called before he shut the door. Jack was snorting from laughing so hard. He truly wished he could be be a fly on the wall for their date tonight.

“I fucking hate you,” Hatton deadpanned glancing at the time and noticing she had about 3 hours to get ready.

“I love you too, Hattie!” He chuckled as he ruffled her hair.

“You should probably go get ready!” He called from the kitchen.

•••

Hatton took advantage of the time she had to take a full body shower. She immediately felt refreshed as she prepared to do her hair and makeup. She decided on a more natural makeup look as it was her signature style. She matched a black t-length satin dress that had a slit up to her mid-thigh to a pair of nude heels that tied around her ankle.

The time was currently 7:42, but the knock from the front door revealed that Trevor could actually show up on time. Her mother sounded surprised when she opened the door, discovering that it wasn’t Jack at the door.

“Well hey there, Trevor! I’ve got to admit, I was not expecting to see you here,” Hatton snorted sarcastically at the reaction. She made last minute touches on her makeup, spritzed on perfume, and grabbed her purse as she headed for the stairs.

Whatever conversation that was happening between her parents and Trevor ceased immediately, and she had to admit she felt like a Queen. Everybody’s eyes were on her and she was surprisingly loving it.

“I feel like your blue is going to be too much with my outfit,” Hatton pointed at his royal blue jacket and dress pants.

It took a few seconds for Trevor to process a coherent thought, but he finally was able to clear his throat a little and get it out, “Wow-ok, haha. Three years didn’t quite prepare me for this.”

He nervously wiped his hands on his pants as he began to help her out to his bronco. Hatton’s mom was trying to suppress her smile, knowing it would only upset her daughter, but when the two young adults were finally outside she looked at her husband.

Hatton’s dad couldn’t even pretend to be the tough guy if he wanted to. He had to give Trevor props for never giving up on his daughter. No matter how many times him and his wife had sat and listened to Hatton rant about the boy, her dad knew deep down that something would come of it one day. A boy isn’t just hung on a girl for that long for the joy of it.

Meanwhile outside, Hatton was trying to be her usual self around Trevor. She was trying to push his buttons, but Trevor wasn’t taking the bait. He opened the door for Hatton, ran around to his side of the vehicle and got situated in the driver’s seat, finally cranking the bronco. She started to make a snarky comment about his lack of socks with his dress shoes, but was immediately cut off.

“Hatton, you look fucking gorgeous. I’m not going to argue with you or aggravate you. I want this to be an actual date. Can we, I don’t know…maybe pretend like we just met and have a clean slate for the night?” Trevor suggested, stealing glances at her as he tried to focus straight ahead on the road.

Hatton was taken aback by this behavior from him. Had she ever seen him act like this? She racked her brain to recall a time, but couldn’t think of one. Playing with one of the rings that decorated her finger, she made eye contact with him and threw him a quick grin.

“Ok,” She managed to breathe out, a foreign feeling of flutters in her stomach made her heart speed up slightly.

The drive to the restaurant took about 30 minutes, but the two managed to make small talk. Nothing too serious, mostly things concerning Hatton’s college, a few mentions of the Hughes family, and if Trevor thought he would be back at Anaheim soon.

Trevor pulled up to the valet where the attendants opened Hatton’s door and stole the driver’s seat from him. As the pair were walking to the front door, Trevor grabbed Hatton’s hand, intertwining their fingers. This sudden action caught her off guard, so she pulled her hand back out of instinct.

Trevor gave her puppy dog eyes and Hatton succumbed to his wishes, slowly returning her hand to his. He gave her a reassuring squeeze as somebody began to open the door for them both.

The restaurant wasn’t busy, which Trevor was thankful for. He wanted something low key because he knew that’s what Hatton would want.

“Reservation for Zegras,” He smiled at the host as they welcomed them. They were taken to a quiet corner, only one other table around them was occupied. He pulled out Hatton’s chair for her. And they both began to look at the menu.

“You know I really wasn’t expecting this from you, Z,” Hatton glanced over her menu at the boy in front of her.

“You highly underestimate me, Hattie,” He grinned and flashed a wink at her, “This is barely the beginning of the date, too.” He reminded her.

The two ordered their their drinks and food and immersed themselves into a conversation.

“I know you mentioned college on the way here, but do you have any idea what you’ll be doing once you’re done? You’re in your senior year, right?” Trevor sipped his wine as he waited for Hatton’s response.

“Yeah, I am actually. I’m majoring in Architecture, so I’m planning on applying to some of the companies around here in Michigan. I don’t know, maybe I’ll make it out of here one day,” Hatton chuckled before sipping her wine.

“Have you thought about going somewhere outside of Michigan?” Trevor wasn’t about to ask her if she wanted to move to California with him, but there was a little voice in the back of his head that was hopeful she wanted to leave Michigan. What if things worked out between them? Would she want to travel the country with him? Who knows, but for now he just needed to take this one date at a time.

“I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about it. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea of where I wanted to go though. Probably where the most money is,” She trailed off.

“That’s understandable,” Trevor stated at their server rounded the corner with their food.

The two continued talking as they ate, slowly learning details that they didn’t know before. Trevor paid for the food and they were off to the movie theater.

Because it was later, there were maybe a handful of people in the theater. The two ordered a large popcorn for them to share, as well as two coke icees. Trevor tried to get Hatton to share that with him, but Hatton insisted that she didn’t drink after people.

They found their seats and situated themselves in a comfortable position. The commercials were still playing when Hatton watched Trevor throw popcorn in the air and catch it with his mouth.

“Trevor, you would choose the Barbie movie to watch,” She laughed when he missed a piece and it went down his shirt.

As he wiggled around trying to free the piece of popcorn, he looked at Hatton and shrugged his shoulders, “What can I say? I like to think of myself as a feminist.” He flashed a smile as he freed the popcorn.

Throughout the movie, Hatton noticed Trevor was getting closer and closer to her. It started with them both in their respective seats, not getting into each other’s space. About 20 minutes into the movie, Trevor rested his arm against hers on the arm rest. Halfway through the movie he placed his arm on the back of her seat, but didn’t touch her. It didn’t take long after that for him to pull the classic “yawn and stretch and put the arm around her” move.

Hatton tried very hard to pay attention to the movie, but every time she glanced at Trevor he was already looking at her. Every time she got caught looking they would both giggle like high school kids and turn back toward the screen. She didn’t know what possessed her to act like this, all she knew was that she was actually having fun with Trevor. Never in a million years did she ever think that would cross her mind as she spent time with him. It was refreshing.

The movie finished and the two loaded back up in Trevor’s SUV. “Now where exactly are we going to be looking at stars?” Hatton questioned.

“You’ll just have to see when we get there,” Trevor chuckled. The two were jamming out to early 2000s pop music when Trevor turned onto a dirt road that apparently was leading to nothing. He turned the radio down when they came to a clearing in the trees.

When Hatton finally looked out and saw how clear the sky was, she could barely peel her yes off of it long enough to get out.

Trevor grabbed some blankets from the backseat and took his shoes off. He climbed on the hood of the vehicle and onto the roof, setting up the blankets so they could lay there. Hatton studied him as he was doing so. She noticed that when he was focused he would stick his tongue out slightly. His hair was curlier toward the nape of his neck, and he hummed to himself quietly.

“All I ask is that you take your shoes off before climbing up here,” Trevor said as he patted the blanket beside him. Hatton did as he said and tried her best not to flash anything as she climbed up. She snuggled under the blanket and looked up at the stars.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, every now and then pointing out specific constellations that that found. Trevor slowly laced his fingers together with Hatton, a smile decorated his face as Hattie didn’t object. He was tempted to pinch himself because he couldn’t believe this was real. The moment he had been dreaming of for at least a few years was happening, and there was absolutely nothing that he would change about it. The night was perfect. Hatton was perfect. Even if she was only doing this to shut Trevor up, he couldn’t help but think that something was going to happen because of it. He had a feeling that she had a lot more fun than she expected.

“Can I ask you why you’ve wanted me for so long?” Hattie’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Trevor thought about it for a few seconds, wanting his answer to be as accurate as possible, “In the beginning it was because I thought you were smoking hot. I mean we’ve known each other for what, 6 years? My 16 year old self thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen,” He glanced over and saw that Hattie was crimson red. He took note of how adorable she looked.

“Thank you, I guess,” she laughed and looked back at him.

“After knowing you for a few years, I don’t know, it was just like I had to have you. We have very little in common, we handle situations different, but you’re loyal. Watching you be friends with Jack, and even if you don’t admit it, when we were becoming friends I just realized how deep and hard you love,” Trevor paused and realized he had been rubbing his thumb across her hand.

Hatton took this moment to speak up, “I do have to admit I’ve come out of my shell since knowing you. You don’t take no for an answer, obviously, so it was either I start getting out of my box and hang out with you, Jack, and the boys or watch you steal my friend. There was no chance in hell I was letting that happen though,” It was Trevor’s turn to laugh now.

“I was scared shitless the first time I talked to Jack about it. Honestly, I thought you like him for the longest. It wasn’t until you were giving him genuine advice about girls that I was sure there was nothing going on between the two of you,” Trevor admitted.

“Sometimes I think that we were lovers in a previous life. I believe we gave each other all of our love in that life, so now that we found each other again it’s time to give other people our love. It would have been selfish to have him for two lifetimes,” Hattie winked at Trevor.

“That’s a unique way to think about it, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed. I wouldn’t have had this chance if you both were selfish with your love,” Trevor used his fingers to quote the last part.

He was going to say something else when Hattie’s phone began to ping. He glanced at his watch and realized that it was almost one in the morning.

“Why the hell is Jack pinging my phone,” She groaned and opened her phone to her contacts. She tapped his name and began to FaceTime him.

“Hattie, why aren’t you home yet?” Jack question as soon as the call connected.

“Jack, are you at my house?” Hattie thought she recognized that background of the call.

“I am, say hi to dad,” he angled his phone to his left and showed her dad seated next to him on the couch.

“I can’t with you,” Hattie rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed.

“Can I see my other best friend please?” Jack asked, referring to Trevor.

Hattie turned the camera to Trevor and Jack’s face immediately lit up, “Hey, bud. It’s nice to see you both have your clothes on,” Jack laughed, but was immediately met with a hard nudge from Hattie’s dad. “Not that there would be a reason for you to not have your clothes on of course,” Jack smiled at Hattie’s dad.

The three of them talked and laughed until Hattie’s parents made Jack go home so they could go to sleep. Jack hung up, leaving the two of them alone again.

“You know it’s 2:30 in the morning?” Trevor looked at the girl beside him. He watched her nod her head, silently letting each other know they didn’t want it to end.

They loaded everything back in the bronco, putting their shoes back on, and leaving the clearing. On the way home Trevor played laid back music. He attached his hand to hers once again and they rode back to Hattie’s house in a comfortable silence.

The drive seemed to go by too quickly, neither one wanting the night to be over, though Hattie might not admit to many people.

Trevor pulled into her driveway and got out to walk her to the door.

“Thank you for finally saying yes,” Trevor smiled at her as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, you exceeded my expectations by a long shot,” Hattie was looking everywhere except at the boy in front of her. From all of her previous first dates, this is the time when she would be kissed. She didn’t know if Trevor got the memo though.

“Ok well, see you tomorrow at Jack’s?” Trevor felt the awkwardness in the air. He couldn’t decide whether he should kiss her right there or give her space. Would he be pushing his luck if he did it?

Hattie turned to the door, her hand landing on the handle, when Trevor tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around, expecting him to want to say something else, but was met with his lips crashing onto hers. She was a little shocked as he didn’t act like he was going to kiss her at first. It took a few seconds, but she finally closed her eyes and kissed him back.

It was a kiss that needed to happen. All of the tension that had built up throughout the years was let loose and whatever wall that Hattie had kept up was absolutely destroyed. The Trevor that she was kissing right now did not feel like the same Trevor that had drove her absolutely insane since she met him.

Trevor pulled away first, slowly putting distance between them until he looked into her eyes, wanting to see if there was anything left unsaid. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned to leave.

As Hattie got ready for bed, she found herself reliving the whole night. She hadn’t had the much fun in a while. She needed that. Every thought that she had led back to the kiss, though. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

She took her makeup off, threw on a sweatshirt and some underwear, crawled into her bed and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Trevor couldn’t stop his brain from thinking that night. No matter how many melatonin he took, how many sheep he counted, he just couldn’t shut his eyes. All he could think about was how soon he could take her out again.

***

I’m seriously thinking about doing an au out of this. But thank you for reading! If you have any suggestions on what to do next please tell me!

#trevor zegras #nhl fanfiction #nhl #nhl x reader #jack hughes #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagines #trevor zegras imagine #best friends

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thewritersaddictions · 6 months

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Day One: Soldier Boy + Baby It's Cold Outside

It's late december when Ben comes back from yet another search for a Vought member. He's not really a fan of christmas having never really gotten the things he wanted during his childhood.

The first time Ben hears the song it's during his time away at war. Ben is just thirty, and he loves music. Warming his heart in a way that not much else can. He hums to himself during his time away at war, and as his mother used to. It keeps him clam, and striaght with his thoughts.

It's when Vought takes Ben to be their test subject and their propaganda device, does the song come back to him. Years had passed, Vought wanted, and tried like hell to make the face of thier company sell.

What was worth selling? Sex has alway sold, and by the standards of the world then and now Ben is a deliciously sexy man. Now mix that together with money and you've pretty much got yourself anything you can dream of.

It forces Ben, or what Vought called him "Soldier Boy" to become apart of a few things. Movie titles, pinup posters, and songs. During the sevetnies, and eighties when the tech get's better the songs he laid down on records turned into shitty music videos.

During christmas time one of the years before he was caught by the russians. He does yet another albums filled with winter songs. Speicallifly the song he had used to keep himself level headed during the war, down in the trenches dirt and blood splattering his face.

Shaking the thought he does what he's told, and sings the song. That damn song that has been stuck to him like glue for the past twenty years at least. Ben does a few good things before getting caught by the Russians like buying the song on record his version and the orginal stuffing them away with other importnat documents, and things from his childhood.

Ben can see the stupid LED christmas lights from the apartments window as he walks up his duffel over his shoulder. With that he jams the brass key into the lock twisting and turning the knob before the door gives and he's let in. The lights are dimly light, and the sound of the tv plays in the background.

"I'm home." He says loudly so you can hear over the tv. He can the scampering of your feet on the hardwood, as he drops the duffel kicks the door shut with his boots, and sits down to unlace his boots.

Theres that beautiful smile he wishes he could see everyday whenever he's away. "Hey beautiful." He says with a contentment that you can hear in his voice. You smile sweetly down at him, and when ben gets up from his kneeled postion you smother him kisses.

You taste of choclate and mint, "What have you been up to while I've been gone?" He asks even though he really doesn't have to. The apartment is decorated ceiling to floor in christmas decorations. Ben feels as if he just walked into a christmas store, or maybe a hallmark.

"Well," You start with a smile written all over your face, "I've been trying to get into the sprit of christmas, and I pulled some of your old records out looking for something a least a little bit chirstmassy." The words "your records."

"You weren't through my things?" Ben doesn't mean for the words to come out so harsh, but they do. Ben is and has always been protective of what he has and that includes you, but he wishes you could have waited till he was home and you had asked him instead.

The smile on your face starts to fall you open your mouth open to apoliges, but nothing comes out. You drop your hand from his, and get quiet moving over to the couch. "I'm sorry Ben." The tv is still playing but the sound is lower.

Ben can feel the tension in the air. Thick and it annoys him. He forgets just how sensitive you can be not used to being home just yet. Ben needs a drink before he can deal with that mess he's created.

He leaves you in the living for now, to mutter in your feelings while he finds in the kitchen a jug of eggnog. An old recipe card sits out, he internally groans. 'Fuck you for being so damn sweet to him.' and 'Fuck him for having such a sweet spot for you.' He pour himself a glass and it hits him with a tingle down his thoart. His eyes scan over the recipe card, In cursive, "Just a dash or two cups of whiskey."

He can't hear you, but cna hear the tv. He rolls his eyes has he pour himself anther cup, and you one as well. When he comes out of the kitchen you are right where he left you. Setting your cup on the side tablebut not before you move a coastar underneath it. He set his cup down on the other coastar. The silence isn't uncomfortable for Ben, but he can feel you messin' with your fingers and nails. He starts to scan what you took out. His records, and one catches his eye.

He slides his fingers over the old package, and pulls the record from the safety of it's home. The record is safe from marks, or scratches and so Ben slips it onto the record player. Grabbing the remote, turning the tv off.

"Listen baby," You don't look at him, "Honey, look at me." Your eyes are glazed with hurt, but you look at him anyways. He has to stifle his laugh at how adorable you look right now for him.

"I'm sorry for being short with you, you know it takes me a few hours to get back and used to being home with you love. Now get up here and let me fix it." Ben says, reaching out his hand palm up so your much smaller hand can fit right in it. You chew your bottom lip for a moment like your thinking of denying him, but as much as Ben's missed you you've missed him tenfold.

You grab his hand and Ben pulls you up effortlessly. He smiles for the first time since he arrived home, and your shoulders fall with contentment. Ben only lets go of your hand for a few seconds just enough to let the needle fall on the record and his hands to slip back into yours. One hand holding onto your hand and the other your waist. The two of you sway as the music crackles and then starts to play.

You rest your head against his large chest, and breathe him in. The first few tracks are not the song Ben's looking for, but he waits patiently. He likes being able to hold you like this, there's no rhythm or reason to your swaying.

That is until the song Ben had been waiting for hit his ears. The songs start slow, and then your movements become more fluid. Your socks glide on the carpet, and even if you accidentally step on Ben's feet he is still okay with having you in his arms. By the chorus of the song Ben's humming in your ear with his hand holding you with a warm grip 'round our waist.

"You'll sing it for me?" You ask with your cheek pressed into his chest. Ben's humming stops and for a moment so does the little swaying the two of you have gotten into. Ben thinks for a moment, "Maybe sweetheart. Maybe." But he can already feel you getting excited at the thought of him singing, "But for now can you take the hummin' and the swayin'?" He asks, putting a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Nodding, you place your head back on his chest, swaying, and humming resumes.

Completed on: 10/06/23

Posted on: 12/01/23

The Anti-Hero-

The Boys Master List // The Anti-Hero Master List // Christmas Stoires Master List

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softstargirl · 6 months

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You’ll Do Great.

Husband!Nanami Kento/Wife!Reader, Reader's pregnant, a bit suggestive. Fluff & Angst.

It's sobbing season!!! ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

“Finally. I have you all to myself.” Nanami murmured in [Y/N]'s ear as he carried her bridal style into the master bedroom of the villa he rented out just for their honeymoon.

“Yes, you do. I'm all yours.” [Y/N] teased him, once brought down, then gasped in delight when Nanami peppered their neck with soft kisses as his hands moved downwards to clutch onto her waist covered by her wedding gown.

The gemstone on her wedding ring gleamed brightly as her hands rested on his shoulders. Their lips intertwined in absolute need as his hand moved upwards to unzip her gown. They fell onto the bed and Nanami straightened himself and took a sharp breath as he beheld the sight before him.

[Y/N], sprawled out on his bed, her wedding gown spread on the white, rose-covered, blanket, her straps laid on the sides of her shoulders which exposed the curve of her breasts and most of all, the gaze of absolute admiration on her face as she smiled at him.

“You're so handsome, Nanami. I can't believe you're mine.” [Y/N] admired as her ring hand reached upwards and caressed his face as tears formed in her eyes. “I'm so happy right now, my love”.

“I love you so much, [Y/N]. You don't know how happy you've made me by allowing me to marry you. Thank you.” Nanami thanked and a stray tear from his eye was wiped by [Y/N] as hers dripped below her.

Their lips met once more and heat filled the room as desire overcame them.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you so much.” Nanami uttered thanks as he kissed [Y/N] all, tears pouring out of his eyes in joy as he caressed [Y/N]'s tummy, excitement brewing in his heart at the thought of the child that was forming in her at the current moment.

[Y/N] cried happily, her head on his chest as she placed her hand atop his, happy that he would cherish their child as much as she would.

“What about your duties as a jujutsu sorcerer, Nanami? What will happen if we find out I'm pregnant?” [Y/N] whispered in his ear, worried as she looked at the floor in the hospital room as the doctor awaited the results in the lab.

“It'll be alright, my love. I'll handle it. I always do, hun.” Nanami assured then kissed her palm. “I'll be the greatest dad to our child if the results come back positive. I promise you.”

“You better be”. [Y/N] joked and grinned as Nanami bent down to kiss them.”

“I will be. Just like their amazing mother who will be the greatest mum in the world.”

[Y/N] closed her eyes and took in the atmosphere of Kuantan's beach as water washed over her feet as she stood at the shore. Looking to the side, she could swear that she saw a silhouette with short blond hair flowing in the wind at the distance in the sea but it was just a figment of her imagination. Figment.

Her eyes held the gaze of mourning as she held her stomach, now large with kins.

“Gosh, 'Nami would have loved to hold them in his arms.”

“I wish I could have gotten more moments to cherish you, my love”. The voice recording continued. [Y/N] heard the pain in his voice as he tried to hold a groan. He paused for a moment to hold another one then continued.

“You were right, as always. I should have tried to read the pile of books I previously bought but never bothered to before buying another one. Maybe you'll read them for me.”

“We should have gone on that trip to Malaysia. We could have searched for a home right next to the beach and laid down on the wet sand as we thought about how our children would grow up there”.

“You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress. Thank you so much for letting me marry you. It was the happiest day of my life. The birth of our children would have been too.”

“I'm sorry that I can't be there for you and our children. I was so happy when I saw them on the ultrasound, they were so precious. I wish I was able to watch them throughout all the moments of their lives. I wish I could hold my two girls and my boy. Please cherish them for me.”

“You'll be a great mother to them. You'll do great.”

“[Y/N], I love you so much. I love you and our children so, so much”.

“Stay strong for me, for our children, [Y/N]. I love you”.

Nanami sent the message, hoping the signal would come back before his phone eventually got ruined and placed it somewhere he doubted it would be broken quickly.

With every step he took, awareness of the life he was about to leave dawned on him.

He could only hope that [Y/N] and his children would forgive him.

“[Y/N]'s a strong woman. She’ll be alright.”

[Y/N] sobbed and awkwardly sat on the wet sand. “N-Nana-mi!” Her voice broke as she bawled for her late husband.

“H-ow will I do a-ll of this wit-hout you?!”

Nanami made sure that everything would go to her before his passing on and left a note, informing her of the file on his laptop that had his suggestions for what was to be their home.

Due to the situation in Shibuya, [Y/N] left for Malaysia and headed for the home she picked. She picked what seemed to be Nanami's favourite out of the list.

Further into the PDF, [Y/N] found a number for a nanny if she ever needed one. Yasmine Otokpul.

“Mrs. Kento, are you alright?!” Yasmine yelled as she rushed to [Y/N] and knelt beside her. She rubbed up and down [Y/N]'s back whilst she checked for any signs of bleeding or injury and sighed in relief when she found none. “I miss him, Yasmine! I really miss him!” [Y/N] sobbed and set her head on Yasmin's chest.

“It will be alright, [Y/N]. Nanami would have wanted you to be strong for him. He loved you so much. If he were here, he'd be so proud of you for how well you're handling yourself for your family. You have to remain calm, you're getting closer to the birth.”

“T-Thank yo-u, Yas-mine.”

They remained quiet, save for [Y/N]'s sobs and sniffles as they watched the sunset intertwine with the sea then headed home. [Y/N], once more, could swear that she saw her late husband, wearing his classic blue shirt and white khaki pants in the waves, smiling at her as droplets of water sprinkled around him. She blinked and he was gone.

[Y/N] looked away and continued to move as she caressed her stomach.

“Your father would have loved you guys so much. I'm going to make sure I raise every single one of you well.”

This is how I imagine them if they were fortunate enough to age together. Lmao! ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

#☁️🌟🩷writes #jjk nanami #nanami x fem!reader #kento nanami #nanami angst #nanami kento #husband!nanami #jjk fanfic #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #it's sobbing season fr 😭

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cupids-chamber · 1 year

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— I'M GONNA LOVE YOU, RIGHT TILL' YOU HATE ME GENDER NEUTRAL READER

IMAGINE: Yandere!Twst cast, dreaming of the MC, before they ended up Twst, and even though they searched for them, they couldn't quite find them... now that they've found them.. they can't seem to let you go.. how would they feel when they've learned that there are more competitors for your love.

A/N: I'm gonna call this the dreaming of you au! I have some plans for it.. I had to split this in part, because of tumblr's fucking word limit.

SAVANACLAW / HEARTSLABYUL / DIASOMNIA / OCTAVINELLE / SCARABIA + IGNIHYDE / POMEFIORE

He couldn’t recall when the dreams had first started, it was quite suffocating.. Looking back, he was tired of the same dream over and over again, yet it changed.. Slowly, he watched you growing up along with him, it was as if his dreams mirrored your own life.. And at one point, he believed that these vivid dreams held some meaning, there had to be a reason why he’d keep seeing the same person over and over again… At one point, he even started to believe that you were his.. Someone meant for him.. And as he grew older, he couldn’t help but search for you, wanting to validate his thoughts and imagination, which has gotten rather out of hand over the past few years.

He didn’t even consider that others would have taken interest in you as well, ‘did they see you in their dreams as well?’.. The thought would have driven him wild, had he not been patient thus far, he might have truly lost himself then and there.. However, if he had waited this long, then it wouldn’t have been difficult to wait a bit longer.. After all.. He knew you a lot better than you know yourself.. He just needs you to realize.. That you’re his.. and he is yours…

YANDERE!IDIA, He recalls losing sleep, scrolling through the internet, scattering sources, trying to trace your whereabouts, all to no avail.. he remembered your name, that he heard you say once or twice in his dreams, you'd rarely speak to him... how he wished he could approach you in these vivid daydreams.. but your voice played through his head on loop, like a broken record repeating the same tune over and over again, as he recites the dream he had that particular day... You couldn't imagine his shock when he saw you, for the very first time.. he couldn't help but grow jealous when he inquired about how others had seen you beforehand, maybe he should have taken an interest in the so called magicless perfect beforehand, but how could he think of others, while his mind was so incredibly crowded with thoughts of you..

YANDERE!KALIM, Kalim had been a sweetheart from young, he couldn’t have ever guessed that there may have been an underlying meaning to his dreams.. Until he took notice of its repeating nature, he’d have the same dream over and over again, it was quite tedious.. aggravating even.. However, Kalim was known to be patient, unlike his peers. He was always calm, however one shouldn’t confuse his patience as him being dimwitted, sure Kalim wasn’t the brightest in the box, but he wasn’t an utter buffoon, he knew when something was wrong.. well most of the time.. He questioned the dreams, and the day he did.. He dreamt of something different, still his dreams centered around you as always.. And it was quite consistent, soon the old books on dreams and astrology became quite boring to the young child, he picked up a story book.. an odd story book indeed, he never knew this sort of book was in publishing, none the less it was quite conveniently placed near him, and in its contents Kalim came to learn of an odd concept.. dreaming of your soulmate, and dreaming of someone who was born just for him.. The concept seemed quite outdated and far fetched, but he couldn’t help but believe it! Kalim had always been such a hopeless romantic in such scenarios.. One could argue this is how he was raised, or maybe the book had blurred his thoughts.. Yet, when he first laid eyes on you.. he was sure you were meant to be his!.. Anyone who said otherwise, was but an inconvenience.. Just like anyone who gets in his way..

YANDERE!JAMIL, Jamil had been serving Kalim for the longest time, truly he couldn’t catch a break.. not when he was so.. ridiculously annoying.. even during slumber he couldn’t catch a break, ever since you appeared!, truly at first he resented you more than anything, another pestering source of annoyance, ruining his day and mood, yet he was lucky to have never been able to face you, at least then he could loathe you secretly and remain at peace within himself.. But he began despising his dreams for that same reason, fairly soon.. You were.. brilliant. A change to his day to day life, really.. He couldn’t quite recall how he fell for you, just that he had fallen for you.. Around this time Kalim kept blabbering on and on about a certain person he kept meeting in his daydreams, Jamil was too concerned about himself to spare a single care to his words, until he had heard about an unexpected book he had read.. The contents of which interested him quite lots’... ‘Soulmates, that’s ridiculous..!’ He thought, closing the book and refusing to look back, he couldn't delude himself further, he was above thinking of such childish things, and believing the contents of such ludicrous things. Yet he met you, here on the very school grounds.. He didn’t know how to react, maybe the contents of the book weren't as far fetched as he had predicted, maybe the two of you were predestined…

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just-french-me-up · 1 year

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Harmonies

@hardly-an-escape recently had this FABULOUS idea of acclaimed writer Morpheus who secretly publishes popular romance novels under a pen name, who shamefully gets off while listening to voice actor Hob Gadling acting out an explicit scene from one of his romance stories. I would say my hand slipped but this was 100% planned and thought through.

Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Early afternoon, Lucienne had told him. He gave a quick glance at the clock. 5:42PM. Early afternoon was fading into late afternoon one second at a time, with nothing to show for it.

Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Again.

This is stupid, he thought, frustration seeping in. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Surely, they had not finished editing or formatting the whole thing yet, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. Perhaps they had forgotten. Morpheus didn't usually request to be sent the beta recordings. He was more than happy to let them do their job unencumbered, trusting Lucienne to green light everything once it was done. Truth be told, he was barely involved in the whole audiobook side of things, except for, well, writing the damn thing in the first place and having his pen name slapped on the cover. Lucienne had arched an eyebrow at him when he'd asked for the latest recordings out of the blue, but had not been overly curious. A good thing, really. Morpheus carefully avoided any occasion that required him to lie through his teeth. This, no doubt, would have been one of them.

His phone buzzed, startling him.

[6PM 09/05/2023 – The Kindly Ones – Edit Zoom Meeting]

Morpheus turned off the reminder. Too many fires at once. That was his problem, his sister had told him once. Stretching yourself thin until you're see-through, she had said. She was not wrong, of course, although Morpheus would not admit it to her face. She would be far too smug about it.

He refreshed his inbox.

Inbox (1)

Morpheus froze and stared at the screen. There it was. Finally. His pulse racing, he reached for his headphones, struggling to plug it in in his haste. The file was slow to download, the recordings accounting for more than half of the book. Morpheus' fingers tapped impatiently against his desk as he watched the bar crawl to the finish line.

5:51PM.

Surely he could allow himself a quick browse through the file. The meeting with his editor―his other editor―wouldn't start for five more minutes, if not more, should they run a little late on their side. Morpheus found himself wishing they would. Unprofessional, a little voice admonished him.

He opened the file. It had been divided into sections, each corresponding to a chapter. Skip. Skip. Skip. He knew what he was looking for. The book had come out a year ago or so. He still remembered the outline well enough. For a while, he heard nothing but the initial breath of the voice actor, one for each chapter, before he would skip ahead. When he finally let the recording play, the voice engulfed him in its warmth.

Although Morpheus had been the one initially weaving the words and sentences together, they found another dimension and depth in that voice. He was rediscovering his work on someone else's tongue, and the effect left him... intrigued. A few voice actors had given life to the words on the page over the years but this one... This one breathed a soul into the story like none had ever managed to before.

When Morpheus had learnt Robert Gadling would narrate another one of his books, he could not resist.

The beta recordings were rough, lacking the polish of the final product, leaving intakes of breath in and other little imperfections editors would cut out. Morpheus could hear every huff, every chuckle when Gadling would stumble over a word and correct himself, going back to the beginning of the sentence. He could picture the smile on his lips then, the playfully apologetic look at the tech team. He had looked up pictures of him online, once. His face matched his voice: warm, inviting, with a hint of mischief. Suave, even. Morpheus had then closed the tab, embarrassed at his own thoughts.

The scene he had skipped to was professionally relevant, or, at least, he tried to convince himself it was. He had always understood sex scenes to be a tricky thing, for actors. At least, when it came to traditional acting, it was a shared awkwardness, a simulacrum of pleasure played by multiple people who could find solace in the fact that they were all on the same vulnerable boat, camera crew included. Now, voice actors... Acting choices could either make or break a sex scene. It required a subtle mix of smoothness and confidence few could manage. The last thing he wanted was for his words to sound clumsy and awkward, when the goal was quite the opposite. It was Morpheus' authorial prerogative to check every aspect of the audiobook fit his vision, after all.

As the chapter began and Robert Gadling's voice filled his ears, Morpheus imagined him in his recording booth, alone. Some audiobooks had multiple actors playing different characters, but this one only had him credited. There were slight fluctuations of tones, accents and speech patterns, as he switched characters. Morpheus listened intently.

"Gabriel gave a fleeting look downward. Nathan's shirt was soaked, revealing hints of the skin underneath. He tried not to stare, but only managed to do so through conscious and continuous effort. 'You should change your shirt before you catch something,' he told Nathan, his tone as casual as he could manage. 'You could borrow one of mine.' "

The acting was good. There was tension in the words, in the tone. The characters sounded like different people, even though they were played by the same man. Morpheus continued. In the book, things heated up quickly after a long, tentative courtship. He braced himself for the following scene, replaying the words in his head from memory.

" 'It smells like you.' Gabriel stared at him, stunned, unable to look away as Nathan stood in front of him, his own t-shirt and boxers for only garments. 'What?' he managed, his throat dry. 'It smells like you,' Nathan repeated, lifting the fabric to his nose with a smile. 'I like it.' Gabriel's gaze trailed down Nathan's body, only now noticing the growing outline of his cock aga―"

Morpheus paused. He had written those words. He knew those words, from having read and reread them a few dozen times during the writing and editing process. Yet he had never heard them. Especially not in that voice. Even the narration was sensual, almost cheeky, dripping with lust like honey. Clumsy and awkward it was not. It was.... something else entirely. Shaking off the feeling, Morpheus hit the 'play' button again.

" ―inst the taut fabric of his boxers. 'I like it,' Nathan repeated, slowly reaching for his cock through the thin fabric, his fingertips brushing the shape of it, well aware of Gabriel's undivided attention."

The rest of the scene followed, word for word Morpheus' work, yet somehow completely new to his ears. He sat there, enraptured, his eyes staring into nothingness while the rich, luscious voice surrounded him, filled him until it became his only focus.

A lewd, enthusiastic hum rose from the headphones, making Morpheus jump. Every word he had been anticipating thus far, but artistic license? It fitted with the narrative well. Too well. Not Gadling's first brush with erotica, he immediately guessed. He played it again for good measure. The sound was deeply erotic, with just enough warmth and breath. Real. It sounded real. It was followed by a breathy sigh Morpheus could almost feel at the back of his neck. God.

He played it again. He could feel the sound, the anticipation, the desire, the pleasure. Gadling conveyed it with such ease it felt genuinely intimate. Arousing, even. Morpheus ran his hand against the front of his own trousers, feeling the very real erection pushing against the hard fabric. This was ridiculous. Yet he could not stop. The scene kept playing, Robert Gadling's voice purring in his ears, words like caresses and gentle tugs, and he could not help but cup his cock through his jeans, seeking friction. He imagined him in the recording booth, leaning over the microphone, his features fitting the suggestive sounds, his lips wet from running his tongue over them. If he could just get a little further in the scene―

His Zoom alarm went off. Instantly, Morpheus removed his hand and his headphones, his back stiff as a board, a cold wave of panic rushing through him. Fuck! He gave himself a quick look through the camera of his phone. He was blushing slightly, to his utmost annoyance. Nothing he could not blame on bad webcam settings, he thought. The rest could be concealed easily enough. Especially when he was only visible from the waist up.

It was with a slight flush and a distracting, frustratingly hard erection that Morpheus answered his Zoom call, his mind scattered between book royalties, publishing dates, and Robert Gadling's voice still deeply embedded in his skull.

It was hours before Morpheus found a minute of free time. Night had fallen, the evening spent in front of a screen or on the phone, discussing the imminent release of his upcoming novel, one whose cover would feature his actual name, this time. Book releases were always exhausting affairs, between planning podcast appearances, book signings, press tours, and the likes. Morpheus disliked the fanfare of it all, the exposure, but could hardly complain. There were worse flip sides of the coin, out there.

At least writing under a pen name saved him the hassle, with the other half of his published work.

Lying on his bed, fresh out of the shower, Morpheus sighed, staring at the ceiling. He felt both exhausted and wide awake, his coffee-fueled brain refusing to quiet down. There were a few things the editor needed his input on in person, tomorrow, something to do with the cover art. He'd promised himself to write, too. Perhaps clean the flat a little. Too many fires at once, his sister's voice echoed in his mind.

His phone buzzed again. Incoming email from Lucienne.

Listened to it yet? Thoughts?

Plenty. Enough to know it was good. Enough to keep the reader listening. Enough for him to want to go back for more.

Going through his emails, Morpheus found the link to the beta recordings, and downloaded it onto his phone. He reached for old earbuds in his bedside table drawer. Where were we?

" 'Come here.' "

The latent desire in that voice was enough to get Morpheus right back where he had been, a few hours ago. Lying on his bed, he kept listening, swallowing hard at any well-placed sigh, any improvised grunt and whimpering sound. Was it even improvised? Did he plan on adding those? Did Gadling discuss it with the adaptation team beforehand? Marked the exact spots where he would do it in the printed script?

" 'You're so beautiful like this, love. Look at you.' "

God.

" 'I have thought about you like this. Hard under me. For me.' "

Hesitantly, Morpheus reached under the waistband of his pyjamas, finding himself hard already. He blushed at his own embarrassment, alone in his bedroom, his hand wrapped around his cock, his own words spilling in his ears. Vain, perhaps. Awfully self-absorbed. But deep down, he knew it was not that. Not really.

" 'Do you want me, Gabriel?' Can you feel I much I want you?' "

He hated himself for including so much narration in this passage, keeping him from the lascivious heat of Gadling's voice, waiting for the dialogue to return like a starving man begs for food. How could he do that? A wanton moan reverberated in his ears, quickly echoed by one of his own, harmonies of pleasure filling his head and his room.

" 'Fuck, you feel so good!' "

Why did his editor even let him publish that? Morpheus' mind was bridging the gaps between dialogue bits, ignoring the narration in favour of more pleasurable mental stimulation. He pictured Robert Gadling in his recording booth, focused over the microphone, his lips pressed into a sinful hum, his eyes closed. Gadling next to him, his mouth pressed against his ear, spewing new words, ones he did not write, ones of his own.

" 'Let me see those eyes.' "

Morpheus whined against his pillow, both from pleasure and frustration. He hated this. This was... mortifying, and yet he could not stop. He arched his back, chasing his pleasure.

" 'Fuck! I've waited for this for so long.' "

Morpheus came in his pyjamas in a muffled grunt, the release helping nothing with the shame spreading through him. It brought him some clarity, at least. Disgruntled, he yanked the earbuds out of his ears, Robert Gadling's voice reduced to a hushed whisper, the siren's song finally muffled. He looked down at himself, suddenly aware of the mess he'd made. Great. Fantastic.

His phone buzzed again. It was Lucienne.

Do you want the edited files once they are done? They would love your feedback before they start trimming it down.

Morpheus sighed, struggling against the brightness of the screen.

Yes, tell them I would like them.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #dream/hob #sandman #sandman fics #sandman fanfiction #smut #my writing #the brain worms were too real and too demanding #so they made me do it #in my defense it was pretty fun to write #also i know nothing about the publishing or the audiobook industry #most of this is just adlib #Morpheus finally meeting Hob for the first time #being absolutely unable to handle Hob's voice without getting a hard on #now that's a thought

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napakmahal · 2 months

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HIII, PHONOLOGY HERE !!! in all truth i dont blame u, i was really tired from uni when i wrote that, lmao.

okey so, like misunderstabding in the way he hasnt told hiro and aunt cass and reader thibks its bc tadashi thinks they wont last or is ashamed of her when in reality is just that he is very nervous and never finds the perfect ocassion

Normal Girl pt. 1

Hey pookie! This took forever but I realized midway through I needed to split it into three parts. Thanks for the request this was fun to make.

You wish you could lay here forever. It was raining and your puffy sheets were cold which would have bothered you if not for the warm body you were resting on top of. Tadashi had been under a great amount of stress. He wanted his doctor title and was the youngest candidate going for it. In order to do that he needed a dissertation of roughly 100-450 pages to defend in front of an academic jury. The paper was done, thank goodness. But he still needed to defend it and even then they could deny him his phD. If he’d spent his week trying to prepare for his defense he’d drive himself insane. So instead, he spent all his time with you. Watching movies, sleeping in, staying up, doing mundane tasks and trying to relax as much as possible before his defense. You’ve never had to refill your anti-stress tea collection and melatonin gummies in one week before.

But the defense was tomorrow and he desperately needed to calm himself. So he went through his presentation twice and then zipped it away in a separate backpack. You pressed your ear to his chest and listened to his breathing and muffled heartbeat. The patterning of the rain on the window going through one ear and the opening and closing of your boyfriend's valves pumping blood through his body in the other.

“I never want to get up.” You admitted.

Tadashi responded sleepily, “I know.” With his eyes shut. Gosh his eyelashes were so long.

“What time is your hearing tomorrow?” You brought your hand up to his face and started caressing it. All the prep work he was doing to defend his thesis had resulted in a lack of care for personal upkeep. He’d started growing stubble (which you found very attractive) but eventually had you help him shave it off to look presentable for his defense. (Something you were clearly upset about)

“10 a.m, I have to be there like two hours early though.”

You just hummed in response and continued to lay in his bare chest in silence. You’d gotten to the point where you could just be together like that without it being inherently sexual. On your nightstand, your phone buzzes and vibrates through the wood. When you checked, it was your mom. She sent you a photo of a four leaf clover she found in her garden with the text: Look what I found!

You knew she was wishing Tadashi good luck. Once while visiting her he’d let it slip that he wanted to be Dr. Hamada , and your mom actually squealed. She’d known him as long as you two had been together and she’d rather make sure he was fed before you were. She was proud of him.

“Look what my mom sent.” You smiled, pointing the phone towards your boyfriend's face.

Tadashi opened his eyes and instantly smiled. He took the phone from your hands and sent your mom a voice recording thanking her for all her support (and free Printer ink).

“She loves you so much,” you smiled and kissed his lips. “She really is my mother.”

Tadashi cupped her hands around your head and smiled at you. “Yes she is, pretty girl.”

You stayed that way while Tadashi whispered sweet nothings into your ears as the sky started to get darker and he had to leave. Aunt Cass was insistent that he spend that last night before his defense hearing back at home so she could make him sweet potato for good luck. He leaned over your bed and slipped his shirt back over his head and pulled his pants over his boxers.

You got up out of bed and slipped an oversized shirt over yourself and walked him out the door.

“Good luck, baby, I love you, my smart boy.” You buried your face in his neck with a hug.

Tadashi dug his face into your head and kissed the tops of it. “Thank you, darling . I love you too.”

“I’ll come pick you up tomorrow and take you out, wherever you want.” You promised.

Tadashi shrugged into the hug. “They may not approve my defense, you know?”

“If they don’t they’re morons but that still doesn’t matter. Because you worked so hard and deserve so much, right?”

Tadashi’s unrelenting and slightly irritating humbleness drove you truly mad sometimes. He had the work ethic of a mule and a brain like Berkeley. Everyone knew it but if you pointed it out he’d just say “oh, thank you but I’m not all that”. Not even in a pick me way. And you were determined to get his confidence up.

He just nodded, dropping his head into your shoulder while you combed your fingers through his dark hair.

“Right?” You repeat.

“Right.” He confirmed.

You gave him one last forehead kiss and sent him off the drive home. After he left you went to your kitchen and started cleaning what little appliances you had after not leaving your room with your boyfriend for nearly a week. Once the kitchen was clean you needed to shower and change your clothes. Showering with another person is not exactly the epitome of cleanliness, not that you’ve only been showering with Tadashi for the past week….. When you headed back to your room dripping wet you kicked something laying on the floor.

It’s Tadashi’s backpack. With his defense inside.

———————————————————————

Tadashi is very clean. He doesn’t like messy anything, his room remains clean and his schedule is so organized to the point it was more of a battle plan than a timeline. So this was not only out of character but IMPOSSIBLE.

Hiro was watching in horror as Tadashi wrecked the entire car and dumped every item of clothing in his overnight bag out onto the floor.

“What is happening?” Hiro asked, completely baffled.

Tadashi diddnt respond and continued to mutter under his breath “where the fuck is it?”

It wasn’t until Aunt Cass walked out back to the absolute wreck with a small bowl of sweet potatoes and matcha on a tray that he looked up from the wreckage.

“Auntie, have you seen my defense?!” Tadashi's voice dripped with desperation.

Before Aunt Cass could even answer Hiro practically screamed, “YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING DEFENSE?!”

“Hiro! Language!” Aunt Cass slapped him in the back of the head. “But seriously, Tadashi! What happened to it?”

Tadashi squeezed onto his hair so tightly it looked like he might rip a chunk of it out. “I don’t know! I had it ,I know I did!”

Silence between the three until Hiro perked up. “Wait, you have a copy of it on my computer. Just reprint it. I think the print room at the lab closes at 10, if you rush you can make it.”

Tadashi didn’t need to be told twice. He ran upstairs, sent the document of his defense to the schools Printer email, and texted Wasabi to ask him to stand at the printer so the techs didn’t shut down the printers for the night. And he was off, speeding over the speed limit (by two miles per hour) and headed to the school.

Unknowing to him you were making your way to his house to drop off his defense. You could have just called him to come get it but he didn’t need any additional stress including driving.

You’d only been to Tadashi’s house once and it was when there was nobody home. You just needed to use the bathroom and his house was closest. But you knew about his little brother and his aunt and about how he lost his parents when he was young. How could you forget? The way he talked about them made you cry harder than him.

When you pulled up to the front of the cafè the lights were mostly off except those coming from the kitchen. You swung the backpack over your shoulder and headed towards the door. A small bell above the door jingled and prompted a woman to walk out with a tray of dirty coffee cups on them.

“Oh, I’m sorry we’re closed.” She apologized.

You waved your hand and held up the backpack. “Oh no, I’m not here to order anything. I just have Tadashi’s defense.”

Hiro poked his head out the curtain after hearing the word “defense” to see you standing at the entrance with his brothers backpack.

“Oh! Okay, Hiro tell Tadashi that he can turn around.” She told him.

You handed your boyfriends aunt the backpack when she asked, “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

“Y/n,” You smiled.

But the smile completely faded when Tadashi’s aunt turned around to look at his brother with a “have you ever met her before” look. Hiro shook his head before calling his brother telling him to turn around.

You added with uncertainty, “I’m…Tadashi’s girlfriend.”

Hiro pulled the phone away from his ear and perked up. “Tadashi has a girlfriend?”

The entire cafè went silent. They didn’t know? You’d never met them before but they didn’t even recognize your name? Who the hell did they think Tadashi was spending his entire week with? Who did they think he FaceTimed in his room at midnight pretty much every day? Either Tadashi’s family had the memory of a goldfish or….your boyfriend lied. Not just about you but your existence as a whole. The girl he said he loved.

You just nodded and let that sink in. You could see the collective “oh shit” look in your boyfriends family’s faces as they tried to salvage it by saying things like “you know your name does sound familiar” but it didn’t matter. Nothing anyone who wasn’t your boyfriend explaining himself was going to change how you felt.

Around that time an engine pulled up the front of the cafè and switched off. Tadashi had turned around and came back home. When he opened the door it was like the aroma of awkward bitch slapped his psyche across the face.

“Hey, hunny.” He whispered and brushed his thumb against your skin. “Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver. I love you.”

You didn’t respond. Only wished everyone a good night and left. Hiro looked at his brother with a look the read “what the fuck?” And Aunt Cass looked at her nephew with a look of “what did you do?”

Fun fact about Tadashi: he can take a hint and read social cues. So he ran outside in the cold and chased octet you right as you were about to get into your car.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He grabbed your wrist.

You looked at him with daggers in your eyes. “They don’t know who I am?”

Tadashi looked like he was going to puke. And you were having none of it.

“My mother invited you to her graduation, and you went to my cousins wedding. And your family does know who I am!” Now you were yelling. Tadashi’s neighbors were getting dinner and a show.

When he didn’t respond you forced yourself to ask the question that had been lingering in your head. “ Are you…are you like—ashamed of me?”

“No! Never!” Tadashi shouted back at you.

“Then how come they don’t know who I am!” You shouted.

Tadashi rubbed his temples. “I have mentioned you before, back when we were still just talking. But it’s not something we do! It’s just not! Every once in a blue moon they’ll check up on my romantic life but that’s it. Hiro liked a boy for five months before I even knew his name! When my aunt goes on dates she doesn’t tell us their names. It’s just not us! That’s all!”

It made sense. You know it did. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Tadashi grabbed onto your face and pressed kisses all over it. “I love you, I swear I do. Nothing you do will ever make me ashamed of you. You mean the world to me, please believe me.”

You grabbed his hand and gently removed it from your face as you started kissing his hand and his wrist. Your kisses trailed up his arm and onto his face until you gave him one last forehead kiss.

“Good luck, tomorrow.” And you hopped back in your car and drove off. Leaving tadashi standing there in the streetlight surrounded by urban darkness. And with every tire rotation away from him, Tadashi’s heart broke a little more until it eventually snapped when he could no longer see your car.

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #tadashi hamada #disney #fanfic #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #napakmahal #writing #x reader

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