#then she asks me ‘is that an appropriate joke you should be making to a child?’

[poohbea]

Cont.

#then two mins later his mom comes to pick him up sees him in the corner facing the wall in tears #and idk what this kid says to her but she turns to us like ‘does anyone wanna explain this?’ #then I explain it was all kinda blown out of proportion and explained the situation #how we were joking and calling him irresponsible #then she asks me ‘is that an appropriate joke you should be making to a child?’ #and the way I looked at this woman like ‘is it really that fucking deep’ but what came out of my mouth was ‘my bad sorry’ #I should’ve fuckin said ‘yes cause your son needs to me put in his mf place’ #but be so fucking for real rn #I called your kid irresponsible because he doesn’t listen he’s selfish as shit entitled as shit #everytime you try and console this mf he’s hearing none of it #he wants to do his own thing and sit and sulk the whole time #so yeah I fuckin left him #cause I’m tired of chasing after YOUR son who is way too big to be acting like this #now some of y’all may think 9 years old ain’t that big #but mf did you act that way at 9? #or were you at least a little fuckin respectful when someone older than you told you to do sum? #then my coordinator tells me that how she spoke to me was tame cause she has a tendency of going off at people #and I was like I welcome her to mf try #cause she ain’t met me properly #I will spill all the bullshit her son’s been doing #because it’s not my job to be disciplining your kids #that will always be the parents job #and it’s so fucking frustrating to be having to go through this with this kid every damn day #he does it EVERY DAY #because he doesn’t like something or he can’t get his own way #sigh… sorry for the long ass rant y’all #I’m done now #just needed to get that off the chest

[xiaowhore]

hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!

premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)

word count. 1.5k

note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.

You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.

You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?

You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.

But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!

With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.

Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.

“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.

“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”

When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.

Still.

“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”

...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”

He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.

“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”

“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.

Silence ensues.

“Do you like showers, sir?”

You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.

“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.

You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”

Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”

“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”

Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”

“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”

“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”

“Really, now?”

“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”

You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”

“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.

You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.

“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”

“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”

“In court, I only state facts.”

You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.

“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.

“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.

“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.

“You should still keep it.”

He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”

You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”

Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”

And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.

The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.

That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”

You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”

Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”

“Hey!”

(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—

But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #neuvillette #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x you #genshin impact x you

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it.

(The read-more is definitely necessary, length-wise. I . . . got very into this idea and frankly this is barely a third of it so far, lol.)

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?"

"It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back. Like, unexpectedly far back, in fact.

"Yeah, I'm not actually blind, thanks," Kon says, turning the rock over and squinting at it. It continues not to do anything, aside from the glowing thing.

"No, it's pink kryptonite," she stresses.

". . . it literally doesn't hurt at all, though?" Kon says. Though he probably should've figured it was some kind of kryptonite, given that Metallo had it and had apparently thought he could hurt him with it.

Seriously, though, his gloves are fingerless and he's got it right in his hand. It should be hurting him, if it's actually kryptonite.

"Pink kryptonite doesn't work like that," Kara says, edging a little farther back. They're floating a few hundred feet in the air right now, but from the way she's acting Kon's vaguely concerned that he might be about to explode or something. "It just affects our sexual . . . urges."

"Oh," Kon says, frowning in confusion. Weird, but . . . "Is that all?"

"I don't mean like it makes you horny, Kon, I mean like it makes you homosexual," Kara hisses, looking mortified. "And don't ask how I know, alright?!"

Kon . . . blinks.

"What the literal fuck?" he asks incredulously, just staring at her. "How does that even–are you telling me Metallo went and chucked gay kryptonite at me in the middle of a fight?"

"Yes!" Kara says, still clearly mortified. "So just–just stay over there with it until somebody shows up with a lead box, okay?! The effects will stop after we get it contained."

"Alright, alright. So then do you think the dude was flirting with me or is he just a fucking idiot?" Kon jokes, balancing the kryptonite on his index finger with his TTK. "Although I really don't think he'd be my type either way. Like, nothing against cyborgs in general, obviously, just the whole thing with him being a murderous supervillain who literally runs on kryptonite seems like it'd make us totally star-crossed. I want somebody I can actually commit to, you know?"

"Sure," Kara says, still eyeing the kryptonite with serious trepidation. It's really not helping Kon feel less like a time bomb, to be honest. Is there like some other side effect that he should be worrying about right now or something? Like, is he missing something here?

"You seem kinda high-strung about this," he observes, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Look, you'd have avoided it too if you'd dealt with it before!" she says protestingly. "So stay over there and definitely keep it away from Kal, I don't know if Jimmy ever really recovered from the last time."

"Oh, well, congrats to Jimmy, I guess," Kon says, since he can't really see a downside to scoring a one-night stand with Superman. Like, a downside for somebody who isn't literally his clone, he means. The clone thing would definitely make it weird.

Just it's also Clark, though, so he'd probably be the generous type in bed. Like, the sort to really take care of somebody. Be as gentle as happened to be appropriate but also be down if his partner maybe wanted it a little rough for whatever reason. And he'd definitely be able to go all night. Again, Kon isn't gonna go there himself, it really would be too weird, but he can make a logical conclusion. Extrapolate one. Whatever.

Then again he'd be down with Power Girl absolutely destroying him whenever the fuck she wanted to and she's genetically his . . . some form of cousin or something, he guesses. His half-cousin from another reality. So really, Clark's not even that weird an option. And like, all appearances aside Kon's a binary clone anyway, not even a one-for-one match, sooooo . . .

Actually it's probably weirder that he thinks Power Girl is so unspeakably hot but comparatively Kara is just . . . fine? Like, that's a little odd, isn't it?

Maybe it's an attitude thing. Or the costume.

Might be safe to blame the costume, yeah.

It's just such a good costume. Like, Kon aspires to reach that level of costume.

But really, all that aside he still doesn't even know what the big deal about temporarily going gay is, although to be fair he's also currently talking to Supergirl and not, like . . . literally any dude whatsoever. So like, who knows how weird this stuff might actually make him under those circumstances. Maybe it like fucks with inhibitions and stuff too?

Yeah, hell if he knows. He's really only dealt with green kryptonite before. He was vaguely aware that other colors existed and apparently did different stuff, but . . . this just seems very different, put it that way.

Maybe best to avoid Jimmy Olsen for a little while, Kon decides privately. The guy probably doesn't need that.

Besides, Clark apparently got there first anyway and Kon just really doesn't want to be worrying about measuring up. Miss him with that, thanks.

. . . although maybe he'll go visit Tim later.

Eh, no, Kara made it sound like the pink K's gonna stop affecting him pretty quick once they box it up, so not much point in bothering. Though maybe he'll visit just to hang, come to think of it; they haven't seen each other in almost a whole week. Well, he hasn't seen Tim, at least–who knows how much Bat-surveillance Tim's seen him through.

Kon should maybe sweep his room for bugs again. Note to self.

Although would it be weird to just like . . . keep the pink kryptonite, maybe? Since it apparently doesn't actually hurt anyone or anything? Because that could be, well . . . just interesting, that's all. Like, Kon is open to exploring that experience. Just–as an experience.

"Actually, you're surprisingly not high-strung about this," Kara says.

"Am I?" Kon asks. "I mean, it's not that big a deal, is it?"

She stares at him.

"Kon," she says slowly. "Pink kryptonite affects your sexuality. It makes you attracted to people you're not normally attracted to. It confuses you and everyone around you and it is really freaking embarrassing to explain afterwards."

"I've been mind-controlled into shaving my head and breaking my best friend's arm," Kon says, continuing to not really see what the big deal is. "That was embarrassing. And fucking traumatic. This? This is just kinda weird."

"Only kinda?" Kara asks incredulously. "You're one of the straightest guys I know! How are you just fine with this?!"

"I mean to be fair, that's probably making some unfair generalizations about straight guys," Kon points out. Kara stares at him. "What?"

"I don't even know how to respond to that," she says.

"Sorry?" Kon says, then tucks the pink kryptonite into his jacket pocket with a shrug. He's not trying to hide it or anything; just getting kinda sick of holding it. And it's that or he either ditches it somewhere or starts tossing it around and that'd probably be . . . just, well, absolutely epically stupid of him.

Or it seems like it would be, anyway. Whatever color it is, it's still kryptonite.

"I mentioned keeping that away from Kal, right?" Kara says.

"Yeah, on that note, are they like . . . done down there yet?" Kon asks, glancing down towards the mess of the street that Clark's standing on a few hundred feet below with a whole bunch of randos from S.T.A.R. Labs, for some reason. Somebody mentioned something about neutralizing Metallo's kryptonite heart without actually killing him, but mostly it was science talk and clearly theoretical anyway so to be honest Kon'd kinda tuned it all out as "not currently relevant", and that's all he knows.

"Definitely not," Kara says.

"I'm gonna call Robin while we're killing time, then," Kon says, pulling out his phone.

"You're going to call your closest male friend," Kara says. "Right now. While you've got pink kryptonite in your pocket."

"Yup," Kon says, already pulling up Tim's contact.

"Can you not see how that might be a bad idea at the moment?" Kara asks. "Not in any way whatsoever?"

"Well I'm not calling Impulse," Kon replies reasonably. Kara stares at him again, for some reason.

Eh, whatever.

He calls Tim.

"Hey, Conner, what's up?" Tim answers distractedly, which Kon doesn't hold against him because when isn't Tim distracted, really. Dude's got too much going on in that head of his, for real. He's just glad the guy ever picks up the phone at all.

"So apparently I'm gay right now," Kon greets conversationally, figuring he should lead with that just in case he actually is about to do something embarrassing to explain. "Pink kryptonite is fucking weird, man."

". . . uh," Tim says as Kara covers her face with her hands. "What?"

"Pink kryptonite makes you gay, Kara says," Kon says. "And we're both just kind of chilling above downtown Metropolis waiting for Kal to finish up with the science-y people so we can get said pink K locked up, so I'm bored out of my mind right now and calling you to complain about it."

"You're calling me," Tim says slowly. "While you're . . . gay."

"What, is he asking to come over?" another voice asks from the phone, sounding amused. It takes Kon a second to recognize it, but–oh yeah, that's the mysterious Bernard, isn't it?

Right, Tim has a boyfriend now. Kon's never actually met him on account of being the worst at secret identities and the whole thing that is Bernard living very firmly in Gotham, land of "no metas allowed unless you're either a supervillain or Batman's too dead to stop you", but he's heard him over the phone a couple times now, although they've never actually personally talked. So maybe thinking about Tim while being high on pink kryptonite isn't actually, like, kosher? Or polite. Or whatever.

. . . then again, Bernard did ask.

"I don't know, maybe?" Kon says thoughtfully, considering the idea. "Are you open to me coming over?"

"Yes," Bernard says.

"Bernard," Tim says.

"Babe, I know we're pretending I don't know you're an ass-kicking vigilante and all but come on, don't make me turn down Superboy," Bernard says wryly.

"We're–wait, pretending?!" Tim sputters.

"Pretending so, so hard," Bernard confirms, sounding nothing but fond. Kon's actually a little jealous of that tone of voice, he's gotta admit. Like–it's been a bit since anybody's talked to him that way, is all. "But like, if you actually thought you were being subtle maybe you shouldn't talk about kryptonite on the phone right in front of me or put themed emojis next to all your superfriends' civilian names in your contacts list?"

"Oh my god, you do that?!" Kon asks with a gleeful cackle, immediately forgetting everything else in favor of that absolutely delightful piece of information. "You're the worst! Batman just rolled over in his grave and Oracle is absolutely losing her shit on the other end of her wiretap!"

"B's not even dead right now," Tim says in exasperation. "And if O cared she'd have already hacked my phone and changed them. And for the record plenty of people put random superhero emojis next to their friends' names, that's a totally normal thing to do!"

"Usually the random superhero emojis aren't associated with contact pics that are dead fucking ringers for said superheroes," Bernard says, sounding amused again. "Just as a thing and all."

". . . anyway so you're gay today, how's that going for you, Conner?" Tim says as Bernard laughs gleefully in the background. "Triggering any unfortunate mental health crisises or anything? Making you worry about the validity of your masculinity? Because I can safely assure you that's all bullshit and you're fine."

"Naw, I know all that, being gay is just a thing," Kon says with a shrug. "Kara's being a little weird about it but honestly it's going way better than, like, the times supervillains mind-controlled me into being into them. Like just as an overall experience, I mean."

"Wait, how many times has that come up?" Tim asks in bemusement.

"I dunno?" Kon shrugs again. "I mean you were there for the Poison Ivy incident, and then Gorgeous Gilly happened to me a while later, which was, uh, genuinely horrifying because she tried to literally marry me during all that, so . . . I think just the twice, probably? But don't quote me on that, I don't even remember what I had for breakfast."

"And how is Kara being weird, exactly?" Tim says in his very unsubtle "assessing my teammate's psychological condition" voice.

"Oh, she's mostly just avoiding me?" Kon says, as a guy who's personally not really all that concerned with his psychological condition at the moment. "Because I've got the rock in my pocket on account of not wanting to just leave it lying around somewhere and she doesn't want to get affected by it. I don't know why, I don't really get why it matters."

"I mean it matters, definitely," Bernard says. "Like it very strongly matters to a lot of people."

"Fair, but I think we're all too invulnerable to really have to worry about getting gay-bashed or anything," Kon reasons. "Like, at least not as a heat of the moment thing."

". . . god can you imagine the world we would live in if every piece of shit gay-basher had to deal with the consequences of punching fucking Superman?" Bernard says feelingly. "For real."

"Oh, pink K's temporary," Kon clarifies. "Kal's not gay anymore."

"Hold up, I'm sorry, are you saying that at some point he was?" Bernard demands in obvious delight. "Is that what you're telling me right now?"

"I guess he was into redheads?" Kon says, tilting his head. "Slightly twinky redheads, specifically. Which I don't blame him for, I'm gonna be honest."

"Well now I know that forever, thanks," Tim says dryly.

"Alternate option: he could've been into Batman," Kon points out.

"Redheads it is," Tim says. "You just . . . redhead away over there."

"I mean I thought about it, kinda," Kon admits.

"Ngh," Tim says, for some reason.

"No thinking about Batman, though?" Bernard asks with a snicker.

"Not so much," Kon says, making a face. "Did consider having some Superman thoughts but I'm apparently not that narcissistic, surprisingly enough."

"Kon!" Kara chokes.

"Tell me you've never considered having Superman thoughts and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar," Kon snorts, shooting her a dry look. "Weren't you like totally naked when you first showed up on Earth? And then he found you like that and wrapped you up in his cape all nice and gentlemanly and took you home with him?"

"He is my baby cousin and you're being affected by pink kryptonite poisoning!" Kara accuses, her face bright red.

"Wait, is it actually poisoning me?" Kon says with a frown. "I feel like you should've led with it actually poisoning me, if that's actually a thing."

"Well no, not actually, it's physically harmless," Kara says grudgingly, folding her arms. "But you're still being affected! You're having Superman thoughts, of all things!"

"He just seems like he'd be considerate," Kon says reasonably. "Like, you know. Biblically."

"Ngh," Tim says, again for no apparent reason. Bernard sounds like he might be laughing. Or choking? Or maybe both; it's unclear.

"Please don't hit on Kal," Kara says. "Especially don't hit on Kal with pink kryptonite in your pocket. I don't want to know how that situation would end up."

"Ideally with him being considerate," Kon says. Tim chokes. Kara covers her face again.

"Does pink kryptonite affect your inhibitions too or are you just always like this?" Bernard asks curiously.

"Eh, pretty sure I'm just always like this, going by the things I've definitely still not been forgiven for saying to Power Girl," Kon says, idly tapping a finger against the side of his phone case. "Like, pretty damn sure at this point."

"That is unfortunately accurate," Tim agrees resignedly.

"So you're saying it is ethically okay to have Superboy over while he's gay," Bernard says in a promisingly speculative tone. Kon grins. Just a little, but yeah–definitely he grins. Kara grimaces, because she is absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Spoilsport.

"I did not in any way say that," Tim retorts dubiously.

"I mean that's what I heard, man, and I'm the one with super-hearing in this conversation," Kon says with a wider grin. "My inhibitions are all inhibited and my personal opinions of people are all the same, I'm just currently batting for the other team."

"So your normal opinion of me is that if you were gay, you'd come over," Tim says dryly.

"Yeah?" Kon says, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, obviously."

"How is that obvious?" Tim says.

"Because I already come over every time you let me," Kon reminds him.

"Oh yeah?" Bernard says slyly. "And how often does he let you come, exactly?"

"Not often enough," Kon replies honestly, and doesn't even bite at the obvious dumb sex joke Bernard so thoughtfully set up for him even though it is frankly painful not to.

"Ngh," Tim says. Kon continues not to understand the reason for him repeatedly making that same weird little noise, but whatever, he guesses. It's Tim, maybe he's stitching his own bullet wounds again or something. Guy's a multi-tasker like that.

"You know this would probably make for a fascinating case study about sexuality, actually," Bernard says musingly. "I mean, all I intend to do is abuse the situation to get into your very tight tights, but seriously, maybe we should all be taking notes or something."

"Ugh, hell no, Rob'll go full Bat if we let him do that," Kon snorts, then smirks. "He can take pictures, though, I know he's into that."

"Ngh," Tim says yet again, accompanied by a weird random "thump". If Kon didn't know better, he'd think he'd just fallen off a chair or something.

"Aw dammit, dude, I think I actually like you as a person now," Bernard says, sniggering. "Are you keeping the kryptonite? Please keep the kryptonite. Like, just for Valentine's and Tim's birthday, that's all I ask."

"Honestly don't know if Superman's gonna let me but I do kinda wanna," Kon admits. It seems pretty convenient, really. And definitely fun.

". . . and you're sure his inhibitions and opinions aren't being influenced in any way, Kara?" Tim asks suspiciously.

"He's really just like this, yeah," Kara says resignedly. "Well admittedly Kal spontaneously developed opinions on window treatments and used the word 'smashing' in cold blood when it happened to him, but that might've just been him sucking at flirting. Because he really does suck at flirting."

"What about when it was you?" Kon asks curiously.

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara says.

"You kinda implied–"

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara repeats, narrowing her eyes at him and doing an impressively bad job of acting like she's not blushing.

So it definitely happened to her, yeah.

"Okaaaaay, we'll pretend about that too then," Bernard says. "Well, what are your opinions on window treatments, Conner?"

"That I don't know what they are," Kon says.

"Sounds like he's in his right mind to me," Bernard says.

"He is absolutely not," Kara retorts dubiously.

"I really don't feel weird or anything, I swear," Kon tells her, since he still doesn't get the problem but also doesn't actually want to worry her either. "I don't even feel any different."

"Kon, you are hitting on your best friend and his boyfriend," Kara says. "Together. At once. Simultaneously, one might even say."

"You've met Wonder Girl and Arrowette before, right?" Kon says. "And both the Batgirls? And–"

"Oh my god, Kon," she cuts him off.

"Just saying," he says, then pauses for a moment and frowns consideringly. "Actually, question, how gay is this stuff making me, because while we're on the topic of threeways I kinda always wondered about what Starfire and Nightwing get up to together and if–"

"KON!" Kara yells, covering her ears.

"I'm just asking," he huffs.

"I don't know if it's actually possible to be gay enough to not be into Starfire," Bernard says musingly. "Like I can't imagine how it ever could be."

"Right?" Kon says.

"It's possible to not be into Starfire," Tim says. "Like, theoretically. Asexuals and aromantics both exist, for one."

"Do they?" Kon says doubtfully. "Like in general, sure, but when around specifically Starfire?"

". . . I can't technically prove you wrong due to a lack of reliable evidence but still," Tim says. "The possibility is there. If nothing else the multiverse is a thing."

"Last time I saw her she was wearing half a gold lamé bikini and I am not going to tell you which half or define how loosely I am using the term 'wearing'," Kon says.

"I said it's possible, not probable," Tim says.

"What about you, man, are you the gold lamé type?" Bernard asks with a teasing snicker. "Just while you're gay and all, of course. That's like, practically a cultural thing. Gotta be authentic to the experience, yeah?"

"That is in no way whatsoever a cultural thing, babe," Tim says dubiously.

"Please, like I've never worn freaking lamé," Kon scoffs. "I've worn collars and loincloths and leather and crop tops and enough unnecessary belts to tie up a Bat, lamé is nothing."

"Collars and . . . loincloths?" Bernard repeats, sounding confused.

"Yeah, this one time I crash-landed on a lost isle of beast-men and they kidnapped and enslaved me for a few months," Kon explains, waving a hand distractedly. "Frankly I count myself lucky they even let me have the collar, much less the loincloth."

". . . um," Bernard says.

"You, uh, never mentioned the collar part of that story before, Kon," Tim says, clearing his throat. "You very definitely never mentioned the collar part of that story before."

"Oh yeah, the prince kinda kept me as his pet for a little bit?" Kon tells him with an easy shrug. "Like he and all his buddies ganged up on me and then took me home with them, but I was kinda . . . feral, I guess? Technically? So like, collar and chain setup. But he was cool, he took real good care of me."

"Ngh," Tim says just barely faintly.

"Yeah you should definitely come over," Bernard says. "Tim, get the check. Conner, exactly how super is your super-speed?"

"You can just call me Kon," Kon says. "And . . . mach 3, last I clocked it?"

"Isn't that like two thousand miles per hour?" Bernard asks.

"Two thousand two hundred and twenty-three point three," Kon replies with a pleased smirk. "Faster than a speeding bullet. Or so they tell me."

"We'll just meet you at Tim's, how's that," Bernard says. "That work for you, Kon?"

"That works for me, Bernard," Kon confirms, smirking wider.

"Oh my god, Kon, you cannot possibly be serious right now," Kara says in exasperation, rubbing at her temples. "Just because you're temporarily gay doesn't mean you should do anything about it!"

"I mean, I'm feeling pretty serious?" Kon says, shrugging again. He still doesn't get why she's being so sensitive about this. "It's not like this is the weirdest thing I've ever done in pursuit of a good time. Like, holy hell, lemme tell you about the Ravers sometime."

"You're going to have to look Robin in the eye after this!" Kara says. "And work with him! And be a normal person in his presence! Normally!"

"I'm aware?" Kon says, vaguely bemused by her concern. Like he's never been normal around somebody he's slept with before, geez. "Tell Kal I ran off with the pink K, if he wants to lock it up in the Fortress or wherever I can bring it back tomorrow."

"Maybe Monday," Bernard says.

"Or maybe Monday," Kon amends.

"It's Thursday!" Kara sputters.

"So it's a long weekend," Bernard says.

"I'm not explaining this to Kal," Kara says. "I'm not explaining this to Batman."

"I really don't see why you'd have to," Kon says. "Rob, you cool with the long weekend thing? Not too much of an imposition?"

". . . I got the check," Tim mutters in obvious and absolute mortification.

Kon's gonna take that as a "yes".

"Cool," he says, grinning broadly. "See you soon, Boy Wonder."

He ends the call. Kara drags her hands down her face and continues to stay very far away from him and the pink kryptonite in his pocket.

"When you go back to normal and freak out and make everything weird with Robin and your team and even Robin's literal boyfriend, I'm going to say so many 'I told you so's," she swears vehemently. "So don't say I didn't warn you."

"Your objection is on the record," Kon says, then tosses her a lazy salute with another grin and takes off, kryptonite and all.

Best to just scarper while Clark's distracted, yeah?

Definitely best.

#kon el #tim drake #bernard dowd #timberkon #timkon #timber #superboy #dc robin #rinfic #wip: think pink

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (14) II a.russo x reader

playlist one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen

childhood sweethearts (14) II a.russo x reader

"you're early? sorry who are you and what have you done with the alessia russo?" you gasped in mock surprise as you opened your front door, the blonde almost forty four minutes early to be exact.

"i've been saying i'm a changed woman! time management is now very important to me." alessia grinned as you moved aside to let her in, cheeks warming at the soft kiss she placed against your lips as she shuffled past.

"do you have enough layers on michelin man?" you teased as she unwrapped herself from the cocoon of clothes covering her, hanging things up as she went. "well it's freezing out there! and you never dress appropriately so i always wear extra so i can make sure you're warm." alessia admitted as you melted, surprised you weren't a puddle on the floor.

"what would i do without you?" you tugged her down into a grateful kiss as her strong hands grabbed your waist. "freeze to death probably." the taller girl mumbled against your lips, pulling away with a smile.

"also can we really call it time management if you're almost an hour early? wouldn't time management mean you were on time?" you teased as she made a beeline for your sofa.

"time is just a concept anyway. i can send you a great ted talk on it!" the striker pointed with a promising look before sinking into your lounge with a content sigh. "what?" alessia frowned as you moved in front of her and placed the back of your hand against her forehead.

"just checking you're not deathly ill. ted talks? not taking six hours to get ready? you made it all the way to the lounge without tripping on the edge of my carpet? have you by chance had a recent alien encounter?" you questioned seriously as the taller girl rolled her eyes and swatted your hand away.

"i just missed you." she answered honestly and once again you melted. "i saw you not even two hours ago!" you laughed but there was a fierce adoration in your eyes as you gazed down at her. "yeah and it was a long two hours." alessia huffed, pout forming on her lips as you rolled your eyes playfully.

"go get ready please! our reservations at seven." her foot shot out to kick your bum as your eyes widened. "less! you told me you'd come pick me up at seven." you spoke in shock as the blonde shrugged.

"did i?" alessia hummed looking away contemplatively as you sighed with frustration. "nah just kidding, its at seven thirty." the blonde grinned as your eyes narrowed, shaking your head and hurrying

"sounds like you should really work on your time management babe!"

~

"you look lovely." you settled as strong arms wound round your waist and alessia's chin made itself at home on your shoulder. "so do you, beautiful as always." you smiled, twisting your head to meet her in a gentle kiss.

"you're so cute lessi." you beamed as her cheeks flushed slightly pink. "am not." she buried her face in your neck as you grinned, placing in your earrings as the strikes lips softly peppered kisses beneath your ear.

"ready to go?" the taller girl kissed your cheek one last time and stood up properly as you nodded, rolling up her sleeve and checking her watch which you'd never admit to her but was a simple action you found ridiculously attractive.

"alessia!" you laughed in shock as you stood and just as quickly were swept off your feet into a bear hug, legs wrapping around her waist as she hoisted you up and onto her hips squeezing tightly.

"well i told you i'd pick you up at seven didn't i?" the italian grinned wolfishly, clearly very proud of her joke.

~

"so whose there?" you asked with a slight frown as alessia parked up in front of the darts bar, playing with the rings on her finger as her hand dropped into your lap. "the arsenal girls and a few of the united girls, they're up here for an away game and beth invited them." alessia answered softly sensing your nerves.

"hey if it's too much we can leave, maybe go back to my place and watch a movie? makeout a little." she smiled charmingly, interlacing her fingers with yours and squeezing gently.

"no no i know you've been wanting to see ella, i'll be fine. promise!" you assured, pecking her lips as her hand shot out to grab the back of your neck. "for good luck." she mumbled against your lips causing you to laugh softly before pulling away.

"i'm holding you to the movie and the makeout afterwards though." you poked at her with a stern look as she nodded, kissing your lips a few more times before you broke apart and stepped out of the car, the blonde quick to drape her arm over your shoulders and pull you into her side.

"you've met most of the girls before anyway but this time you're a little more sober." alessia teased quietly as you both handed your ID's over to the bouncer who checked them and handed them back with a nod.

"don't remind me!" you blushed and playfully punched her shoulder, already spotting the girls in a private room toward the back of the bar. "well hello! about time you both got here." you both stumbled a little as a body crashed into you and wedged themselves in the middle.

"you especially mate! come on, lets grab a drink." leah waved off alessia's protests as her arm replaced the strikers over your shoulder, guiding you to the bar as you sent her an apologetic smile over the older blondes head, watching as alessia was swarmed by a small army of her teammates.

"i'm gonna miss those little terrors. please if they offer to run the program again, we're completely in." leah promised, handing you a gin and tonic as the two of you hung around chatting. "they adore you. and thank you for the tickets! i don't think i'll be able to get them to sit still on monday." you laughed, leah waving off the gesture.

"go on, i'll introduce you to all the girls. don't tell less but i think some of them are more excited to meet you than see her!" leah whispered making you laugh as she grabbed her drink.

"the poor girl never shuts up about you at training and we always know when she's textin you because she's got this big dopey star eyed grin as she stares at her phone." leah teased as you caught alessia's eye across the room, sending her a smile and a nod as she raised an eyebrow wordlessly checking in.

leah taking you around the room you were passed from hug to hug, having met most of the girls at least once but easily an hour flew by as you got the chance to properly speak with them, feeling much more at ease the longer you did so.

"well well well, i knew it." you turned around with an amused smile, ella letting out a deep and dramatic sigh. "knew what ella?" you laughed as the mancunian placed a hand on your shoulder.

"you're just head over heels in love with me! obsessed, can't stay away." the girl nodded before you both broke out into laughter as she pulled you into a hug. "less looks really happy, thank you." the girl murmured in your ear in a much more serious tone as your face warmed.

"thats probably because she doesn't have to put up with you everyday!" you quipped as she scoffed and hit you on the arm. "nah she probably tells me she misses me more than you!" the brunette stuck her tongue out before the two of you started to properly catch up.

"hi pretty girl." you relaxed as arms wound round your torso and the scent of her perfume engulfed you, a small kiss placed discreetly behind your ear. "mind if i steal her?" alessia asked leah and beth who waved her off, too busy arguing with ella over how the rules of darts worked.

you let the taller girl pull you away from the hustle and bustle of the group, tugging you around a corner and camping out near the bathrooms where it was a little quieter. "hi." alessia smiled softly, ducking down to press a few tender kisses against your lips.

"you already said that." you teased as she rolled her eyes. "and i'll say it again, hi." her body pressed a little more into you, your back meeting the wall as you were drowned in the sight, smell, touch and feel of her.

"it makes me really happy to see you with all of them, you're my family and so are they." your heart leapt and skipped a beat at the sincere confession, lost in the baby blue pools of her eyes as you. "you're such a little softie now." you grinned as she groaned and buried her face in your neck.

"stop saying that. i could beat you up when we were twelve and i'll do it again now!" she huffed, causing you to squeal at the ticklish sensation of her warm breath against your neck. "mm sure you would. i'd just tell your mum!" you teased.

"yeah and she'd take your side in a heart beat, you were always her favorite daughter anyway." the striker pulled away with a pout which you wasted no time kissing away. "and don't you forget it russo." you warned tapping her chest with your hand.

"i wanted to ask you something." the blondes demeanor shifted, hands moving from your hips to take a small step back and put a little more space in between the two of you. "i'm all ears." you promised, eyebrows furrowing just a little in curiousity.

"i wanted to ask if-"

she was interrupted by the banging of a door beside you as the bathroom swung open as a few of the girls stumbled out with a laugh. "less! marys been askin for ya." ella warned, booping your nose as she stumbled past with maya, clearly a little tipsy.

"what did you want to ask?" you questioned once they'd left, catching alessia's attention once more. "later, once we have a bit more privacy." alessia smiled but there was a flicker of something in her eyes you couldn't quite place as she grabbed your hand and lead you away.

your stomach clenched nervously as she pulled you over toward a girl almost as tall as less, whom you recognized well despite never having met her and you knew meant nearly just as much to alessia as ella did.

"finally! where have ya been hiding her hm?" mary beamed as she spotted alessia, grabbing her into a tight hug as the blonde laughed and mumbled something back.

"and you don't need any introduction, feel like i've known you for years with the way she rambles on and on over the phone about you!" mary grinned as alessia paled. "mary!" the strker hissed, cheeks tinted with embarrassment as the goalkeeper hugged you tightly.

"you look after her yeah?" the girl mumbled quietly as you swallowed but nodded, the beaming smile which met you as she let go easing some of your nerves, knowing she was just looking after alessia at the end of the day.

"oh leave her be! if anything less needs the shovel talk, i like your girlfriend more than you." leah sauntered over with a slight slur, both of your faces blushing a little pink at that word which neither of you had actually discussed.

"right! another rum and coke then captain?" mary sensed the slight awkwardness and swept the blonde away toward the bar. "sorry." alessia apologized as you cocked your head to the side curiously. "why? you've got no reason to be sorry." you assured, placing a quick kiss to her lips before ella yelled out challenging the two of you to a game of darts.

~

"i'm telling you, you take it! i'm hopeless at the whole hand eye coordination thing." you shook your head firmly, almost stabbing the striker as you tried to thrust the dart back in her hand.

"oi this isn't a fencing drill! careful." alessia laughed, ella impatiently groaning for one of you to hurry up. "look i'll help you." the girl chuckled, maneuvering you in front of the throwing line and pressing her front into your back.

"fingertips, close one eye." her hand gripped yours, adjusting the way your fingers held the dart and moving your arm up slightly, a soft laugh left your lips as she pulled one of your eyelids gently down with the pad of her pointer finger.

"look over the top of the dart and don't throw it hard, or else it'll just go too high. we want to aim for the eleven so we slightly adjust-" she moved your elbow a little more forward, the two of you so wrapped up in your little bubble everyone else seemed to fade away, missing the loving smiles sent your way by the other girls around you.

"-then you inhale, exhale. throw!" the dart left your fingers and wedged itself into the wall, missing the board entirely as ella doubled over clutching her stomach with laughter as you groaned.

"see! i told you." you huffed, spinning around in alessia's hold who made no attempt to hide her amusement as you smacked her shoulder. "yeah you're rubbish at this." the blonde agreed, lips curling into a grin as you scoffed, held in a bear hug against your will as you tried to break free.

"i told you to take all the throws!"

~

alessia took a seat in between lia and vic and sipped at her water, neither one of you really having had more than a couple of drinks, her because she was driving and you because you'd been so anxious about making a good impression.

she watched on with an amused smirk as you argued back and forth with ella about why your fear of geese was much more rational than her fear of bananas, everyone around you both teasing they were both ridiculous and her heart warmed to see her two worlds meshing together so well.

but as she scrolled absentmindedly through instagram, clicking into a few of the girls stories she'd been tagged in with a smile, all of it was wiped away entirely as she watched leahs close friends story.

she was up and on her feet in seconds, nearly crash tackling the shorter girl who looked up in surprise at the clear panic plastered on her friends face. "whats wrong?" leah asked as alessia tugged her off to the side.

"leah you need to delete this right now, you can see us kissing in the background!" alessia thrust her phone in her national captains face who blinked a few times in surprise.

watching the video she'd taken of beth and jen singing along terribly to the kelly clarkson song booming over the speakers where sure enough you and alessia could be seen sharing a brief but sweet kiss in the background over beths shoulder.

"delete it leah, now!" alessia urged as the blonde nodded, grabbing out her phone and tapping around, showing her once it was gone from her close friends story. "less i'm really sorry i didn't even realise-" but her words fell on deaf ears as the striker stormed off.

"you ready to go?" you looked up in surprise from your conversation, but seeing a newly hardened look in alessia's eyes your protests disappeared, nodding and standing up to your feet.

you hurried to say goodbye to as many of the girls as you could, alessia seemingly in a hurry as she walked off alone and you followed quickly after her with a frown. "less what's wrong?" you asked softly once you'd left the bar and headed for the parking lot.

"nothing i'm fine." the girl mumbled back, tucking her hands into her pockets as you reached for them and your stomach lurched, a million and one doubts creeping in about if you'd done something wrong.

"hey. you're clearly upset, whats happened?" you tugged on the back of her jumper, hands flying to cup her flushed cheeks as you frowned with concern. "nothing, i'm fine." she forced a tightly lipped smile and let herself into her car as you made your way to the other side.

"lessi." you tried again, reaching for her hand over the console and breathing a small smile of relief when she allowed it to fall on her knee, her own hands gripping her steering wheel tightly.

"hey, its only me. talk to me love, whats happened?" you spoke gently, squeezing her knee as she let out a deep exhale. "leah posted some video on her close friends story and you could see you and i kissing in the background." alessia finally explained, pushing your hand off and starting up the car.

"okay." you frowned and nodded along, trying to prompt her to elaborate further but only met with an awkward silence as the engine roared and she pulled away, flicking on the radio. you tried to make conversation but only receiving singular word replies or a fake smile you gave that up, instead watching london pass by in a blur out the window as you sped home.

when alessia pulled up outside your flat and made no move to undo her seatbelt you put two and two together that there was clearly more to it and you could piece together where you thought her mind was.

"can you come inside please? i think we need to talk." those words had alessia's stomach dropping but you didn't give her much of a chance to protest, letting yourself out of her car and hearing her follow.

neither of you said a word as you felt around for your keys, pulling them from your pocket and letting the two of you inside, the silence building as you both stripped off your outer layers.

"do you want a tea?" you asked softly, alessia nodding wordlessly clearly caught up in her own head as she took a seat and you left her to it, moving quickly around the kitchen.

returning you placed a mug down in front of her as the striker mumbled a quiet thank you, bringing it to her lips with a small sip as you both sat with your thoughts for a moment on the sofa.

"i was trying to ask you to be my girlfriend tonight." alessia broke first as you sent her a small smile. "i know." you'd known that had been her question long before the two of you were interrupted.

"which is why i think we need to have a talk." you placed your mug down on the coffee table and tucked your legs underneath you, not missing the flicker of fear in the blondes eyes as she met your gaze before looking down into her tea.

"clearly the thing with leahs story really freaked you out." you stated your observations and waited for a moment to see if she would elaborate but when the taller girl remained quiet you continued on with your point.

"i don't think you're ready for this yet less." you forced out the words which felt like razor blades against your tongue, the blondes head snapping up as her eyebrows furrowed and she opened her mouth to protest as you held up a hand and she hesitated.

"i really like you and you really like me lessi. thats not what i doubt at all and i don't think its your feelings that are the barrier, i know they're sincere." you assured softly as she nodded.

"but you're not out to the public yet less and i think that needs to be something taken into consideration with all of this alongside the conversation we already had about how the fame and the social media side of things works." you reached out for her hand, relieved when she allowed you to take it, even pulling you a little closer as her mug joined yours on the table.

"alessia i would never ever in a million years even dream of pressuring you about your sexuality or how you express that to yourself, your friends, your family, the world, anyone, until you are ready." you promised, squeezing her hand gently as her eyes remained locked with your own.

"but look at how much you just freaked out over leahs close friends story. you said it yourself you already have such minimal privacy and i'd hate for you to feel like we're constantly having to look over our shoulders and be hyper alert whenever we're out on a date or out with your family or i come to a game." you continued softly, dropping her hand and moving them to gently cup her face as she slumped into your touch, legs pressed against yours as you shuffled even closer.

"we might have started our lives in the same place but now we come from different worlds lessi. you go and stand in front of tens of thousands of people every week for your job, you rub elbows with celebrities and give speeches at swanky award ceremonies in expensive suits or gorgeous dresses and do ads for adidas or model for magazines. I sit in a classroom wipe runny noses, make pasta necklaces and coordinate parent teacher conferences!" you gave her a sad smile which she returned, her hands coming to rest on your hips as she easily lifted you to be sat on her thighs staring down at her.

"but i don't care about that, i've never cared about that. i love what you do and how you teach and how passionate you are, and i'm so so proud of you." alessia whispered out, voice dangerously close to breaking which tugged at your heart and her grip tightened.

"i know, and i will forever and always be proud of you. like i said less you and i and how we feel about one another aren't the problem. you told me yourself how much your mental health suffered when everything became so toxic on social media with the transfer from united." you started, thumbs gently tracing her jawline.

"if someone posted a video of us kissing or holding hands or anything and the rumour mill started up about your sexuality and our relationship i would hate myself to see you get hurt like that again." you whispered out, unable to bare the thought of how heavy that would weigh on her.

"and we both know i don't really care for social media but if fans ever did some digging and found out which school i work at i could lose my job less." you reminded softly as alessia nodded with a pained wince.

"its a ridiculous concept that anyone needs to ever 'come out' but that journey and that decision it needs to be in your hands less, not at the fingertips of teenagers with no sense of boundaries and an iPhone." you promised firmly, eyebrows furrowing.

"but i love you." alessia breathed out, voice cracking as you smiled painfully. "and i love you. i've loved you since we were kids and i don't think despite how much time has passed i'll ever stop." you promised quietly.

"then why does this all feel like a goodbye?" alessia forced out and your heart broke at the tears which welled up in her eyes as her fingertips dug into your hips as if afraid you might disappear in the blink of an eye.

"its not a goodbye less, you'll always have me around. but you’d go and get glammed up at award shows and then come home to me in joggers on the sofa. you have an entire room of awards, trophies, medals, i have a few crayon pictures taped to my fridge. you are easily one of the most sincere, sweet, loving, caring, passionate human beings i've ever met and you deserve someone who can share the spotlight with you, not slink about and cower around the edges." you sighed, jolting a little in surprise as alessia moved you off her lap and stood.

"so what you're just, you're giving up on me, on this, on us?" the striker struggled to get out her words, face twisted and cheeks blotchy as her fists clenched. "no less i'm not-" you stood and tried to reach for her but she stepped away.

"i love you, you love me, we have been through so much together and worked so hard to fix things. why isn't that enough?" alessia frowned, chest heaving and head spinning as she struggled not to cry.

"you’re a stargirl alessia you always have been, so you deserve someone to shine bright with who doesn't need to be hidden or mean you feel pushed to do something you're not ready for yet! its because i love you that i just don’t think that someone you deserve is me." you confessed, trying to push down your own insecurities.

"no. no! i don't accept that. you're just tired and not thinking right and i'm tired and i just-i'm going to go home, we're going to sleep it off tonight and i'm going to see you at the game sunday afternoon and we can talk after that." alessia shook her head firmly, and before you could even say a word her lips were pressed against your cheek and the front door was closing after her.

~

only, that wasn't how it worked.

"lessi! darling you played brilliantly." carol beamed pulling her daughter into a firm hug, but the strikers eyes roamed the family and friends section, ignoring the praises and the hugs from her family only looking for one person.

"she's not here?" her eyes met her brothers who frowned as he pulled away from her. "i tried calling but she didn't pick up, i'm sorry less." gio apologised softly as alessia's face fell.

"its fine, thanks for trying." the girl sighed with a small smile, swept away by her parents and trying to force on a brave face as plans were discussed for their usual dinner.

"uh no, she's busy marking." alessia lied as you were brought up, mario questioning how many to make a reservation for, grateful for the fact no further questions followed as she excused herself to go and grab her things.

"hey, come with me for a second?" leah had picked up from across the stands the miserable look on the younger girls face and had been waiting for her in the tunnel, ignoring alessia's attempts to dismiss her and pulling her into one of the medic rooms for some privacy.

"is this about the other night? your head hasn't been in it all day. less i'm so sorry about the story i really should have looked but i was drinking and just clicked post and-" leah started to apologise as alessia shook her head firmly.

"leah i overreacted the other night and i'm really sorry, i know it wasn't on purpose and its not about that, well it sort of is but not completely and-" she struggled to get her words out, leah encouraging her to engage in a few deep breaths.

once she had calmed a little more the rest came out like word vomit, leah following along with a slight frown as the striker got everything off her chest about her-conversation? argument? disgareement? she wasn't even sure what to call it.

"okay. so now its been a couple of days, what do you think about everything she said?" leah asked gently, pulling herself to sit up on the med bench next to alessia who sighed.

"i don't know! i don't want to completely dismiss her feelings but to be blunt she's being stupid. if anything i don't deserve her and i don't care if our lines of work are rapidly different, if anything thats why i love her so much and i feel like we work so well together." alessia admitted honestly as leah hummed to show she was listening.

"but she has a point about the whole social media and boundaries thing. i'm not ready to come out but i shouldn't have to be in order to engage in a meaningful relationship? why does society get to ruin that for me just because people don't understand privacy." alessia huffed, kicking her feet out with a scowl.

"but then on the other hand i'd love nothing more than to be able to show her off because well...you met her and you know how wonderful she is. but people would just find every little reason to tear her down and i'm not able to protect her from everything, especially not faceless internet trolls." alessia groaned, leaning back on her forearms and looking up at the roof.

"but then why should any of that stop us from being together? i'd never want her to feel hidden or like a dirty little secret but there are ways we could go about maintaining our privacy. plus i guess her not being famous eliminates people being able to cyber stalk her, she hardly even uses social media." alessia frowned, a slight curl of leahs lips all that showed the amusement that came from watching alessia work herself through this.

"so then go tell her all of that lessi." leah bumped her shoulder into her teammates with a nod of encouragement. "okay. okay yeah i will!" alessias eyebrows knotted together and she jumped down to her feet.

"less!" the blonde paused, hand on door as leah called out, holding up her car keys which had slipped from her pocket.

"might need these romeo."

~

without really giving a believable excuse why but grateful no one pressed her about it alessia had cancelled dinner with her family and raced from the emirates right to your place.

but circling the block twice and unable to find a park she cursed to herself and retreated to her own flat, and then of course right as she stared to walk it started to rain.

when you heard knocks at your door that evening you assumed it was the pizza you were eagerly waiting for and leapt to your feet, eyes widening in shock to find a soaking wet alessia russo holding a boquet of soggy flowers on your doorstep instead.

"less?? jesus christ you're drenched! did you walk here?" you pulled her inside and closed the door, the rain thundering down against your roof.

"are you stupid? do you want to get sick? go get in the shower!" you ordered sternly, dismissing your shock at her sudden arrival for concern about her wellbeing. "alessia! go." you tried to push her when she remained unmoving, grunting as you had no success.

"no. we need to talk!" alessia shook her head stubbornly. "so you walked here in the pouring rain? why didn't you just call me?” you sighed as the blonde paused, cheeks flushing red at the realization.

"because i need to say this now!" she recovered and you accepted the flowers held out toward you. "sorry, they got a little wet." alessia mumbled as you couldn't help but smile at the gesture, moving to put them down in the kitchen.

"can you please go take a warm shower and i'll get you some dry clothes? then we can talk." you tried but again were met with a shake of her head, a small puddle forming beneath her on your floorboards.

"sit down please." her hands fell to your shoulders, walking you backwards until you reached the bar stools, giving in with a sigh and taking a seat.

"you had your time to speak on friday, and i've had my time to think things over about what you said." alessia started as you nodded, crossing one leg over the other and trying to ignore the urge to strip her wet clothes off of her and push her into the shower, already seeing a slight shake in her body.

"as much as i respect you, and i respect your thoughts and your feelings i still disagree. i meant it when i said i love you, i'm so in love with you and i have been for years. we've only just worked through everything that ruined what we had last time and i will never stop being sorry for my actions even with your forgiveness and i need you to know that." alessia pushed as your face softened.

"i know less, i know." you assured softly as she sighed a little in relief.

"good. that being said, i can completely understand that you want to protect me as much as i want to protect you. i know coming out needs to be my choice and a journey guided by my hands but why should me not being ready to go public stop me from enjoying a relationship where i feel so loved and safe and comfortable." alessia started, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

"everyone who means something to me already knows, everyone in my support net and my circle knows and they still love and accept me regardless. i don't need the validation of coming out to a bunch of strangers but if it means i lose you then i'd do it in a heartbeat, there isn't anything i wouldn't do for you." alessia promised as you sighed quietly.

"less-" "please let me finish."

with a nod and a quiet apology you fell silent again as she took a deep breath.

"you said i deserve someone to shine bright with, to share my life with and not slink around the edges of it. but there isn't a single aspect of my life i can't see you fitting perfectly into or making feel even brighter! i don't care if i come home after some big ridiculous award show to you on the sofa in sweats marking spelling homework, in fact i can't think of anything else i'd rather come home to." alessia let out a small laugh as you cracked a smile.

"i know we come from different worlds, i can't fault that. but i'd love nothing more than for them to come together, i know you would always be there for me through all the highs and the lows, and you won't ever completely get it, but thats the beauty of it. i love you because you're you, not because of your job or your salary or the fact you can't kick a ball to save your life!" alessia threw her hands up in the air.

"hey!"

"everything that you think is a barrier or a difference or further proof of how wildly opposite our lives and careers are only makes me love you more. i'm not saying we won't have challenges and arguments or disagreements, but nothing thats worth fighting for is easy. and you are the number one person i'd go to war for." she closed the gap between the two of you, her wet hands clasping your cheeks as your own settled on top of them.

"now last time i gave you this speech you were very angry with me but i found it in my phone notes and i'd really like to say it again if you can get through it all without you kissing me to shut me up?" alessia joked softly as you nodded.

"i know that you still cut the crusts off your toast and you refuse under any circumstances to eat olives or tomatoes. i know this because i'd always make sure i'd take them off your plate for you before my mum would notice." alessia started as your lips curled into a smile.

"i know that you bite your nails when you're nervous or feeling shy, and you fidget with your necklace when you're worried someones speaking about you. you'd twist my rings around to distract me when you knew i was nervous before a game and i'd never even need to tell you because you just knew when i wasn't myself. i've loved you since you were that god awfully shy short unathletic six year old who had scuffed shoes two sizes too big and the boys shirt on because your mum accidentally sent you in your brothers hand me downs." alessia continued on.

"i know that you still use chopsticks or a spoon to eat certain kinds of crisps because you hate the feeling of the dust on your fingers. i know that you hate most hot drinks because they remind you of the time you burnt your tongue on two minute noodles. i know that you couldn't care less about football but you'd listen to me bang on about it for hours because you didn't want to hurt my feelings or have me think you didn't support me. you'd let me kick balls at your head for hours because you knew it helped me, you were the first person i'd go to after a game and the only one i'd point to when i scored!" alessia's smile grew as you shook your head lightly.

"the airplane arms have always been around." you teased gently as you reached up to gently move a wet strand of hair out of her face.

"every time that I am around you my entire being, every single cell and fiber and mollecule feels fizzy. you make me feel properly alive, full of hope and laughter and the purest kind of joy. i know that you could run intellectual rings around anybody but you choose not to because you're a very good person, the best kind of person actually. you're kind and you're selfless and you've always put other peoples needs before your own. which is exactly why you've always pushed me more than anyone else i've ever met, and that you've always believed in me, maybe even far more than i ever believed in myself. i do know you. because its you, its always been you, and i think it will only ever be you." alessias voice shook a little as she took a moment to compose herself.

"so for the love of god will you please be my girlfriend?" alessia held her breath the moment the words left her mouth, biting down nervously on her bottom lip unable to read your face.

unable to find the words the blonde was a little taken aback as you stood to your feet and surged forwards, pressing your lips against hers as your arms wound around her neck.

you poured every single little ounce of love into that kiss, and alessia felt it.

"so thats a yes?" the girl pulled away, pupils dilated and slightly out of breath as she pressed her forehead against yours. "yeah, thats a yes." you laughed, eyes welling up with tears at the overwhelming surge of emotions which flooded your body.

unable to stop the shit eating grin which devoured her face you laughed louder as alessia's hands hooked under your thighs and hoisted you up and into her arms, your legs wrapped around her waist as your mouths moved in perfect sync with one another.

"baby this is very romantic. but you are still soaking wet and your teeth are chattering, can we please go have a warm shower now?"

~

"okay! okay! 4D i need you to settle down please, listening ears on." you clapped out a pattern, half the class clapping back and the others still chattering away as they did every monday morning you'd try to settle them.

but with a gentle knock on the door they fell silent, eyes wide and soft whispers bouncing around the room at their visitor who looked to you with an apologetic smile.

warning your class about your superhuman hearing you stepped out of the room, rolling your eyes with a chuckle at the way the chatter exploded up again as you did though this time about the kitted out arsenal player who'd been standing sheepishly in the doorway.

"you forgot your lunch." alessia handed you the bag of food as you shook your head with a smile. "thank you baby." with a quick glance around you craned up to peck her lips appreciatively.

"now go! if you're late again kelly will have my head." you teased, the blonde grinning and pecking your lips one last time and stepping away. "i'll see you tonight pretty girl." she promised, blowing you a kiss and turning around.

"you know your bum looks great in those shorts 23." you teased quietly sending her a wink. "excuse me missy we're in a teaching environment. be professional!" the striker warned now walking backwards and wagging her finger at you, ring glinting as it hit the sun.

"but i know it does." she winked cockily with a smirk. “thirty years old and we’re still bringing the heat!” the footballer did a little shimmy as your eyes widened. "less watch out for-" your warning was far too late as she backed up into the rubbish bins, slipping over and tumbling to the floor with a loud bang as you winced.

"sorry! no need to worry we're all good here." you dismissed the heads which popped out of other classrooms, alessia hurrying to her feet and sending you one last apologetic smile before high tailing it out of the building.

with a sigh and a chuckle you returned to the classroom, the chatter falling silent as you raised an eyebrow.

"lets try this again then. good morning 4D!" you sung out with a smile.

"good morning mrs russo!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

aaaand that brings this delightful little series of mine to a close. thank you for reading my friends 🤎

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

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 12] Appropriate Behavior

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*hope this makes y'all feel better

Your date progresses as smoothly as it can after Satoru leaves. You try to joke around and completely ignore the fact that Satoru is in the restaurant– It’s hard to do when both of you constantly glance his way to see what he’s doing, to see if he’s looking over at you. You don’t catch Satoru staring your way, but Suguru does. Of course, Suguru isn’t going to comment on it.

Suguru suggests getting dessert elsewhere because the dessert at that restaurant sucks; it isn’t true, Satoru took you there once years ago, and it was delicious but you agree. Neither of you want to stay there while Satoru is there. You get ice cream at a nearby place, and you feel like everything is going like it was at the very beginning of the date. The laughter isn’t as forced and conversation feels more natural.

Your night must come to an end though, and you stand in the front of your apartment a little too early for your liking, but there’s nothing else for you to do. You don’t feel like the date can go any further, even though you had many more plans for tonight. It just feels like everything went south after Satoru walked to your table.

“So…” Suguru awkwardly stands with his hands in his pockets. He hates first dates because he has no idea how to end them. You sweetly smile at him, and he smiles back. “We should do this again.”

“We should.” You answer. And you awkwardly stand outside for a moment or so, before you muster up the courage to kiss his cheek. You unlock the door to your apartment and you wave at him, “We’ll keep in touch then.”

He tries his best to not smile like a fool while he waves back. You enter your apartment, and try to quietly shut the door, believing your son is asleep. But he isn’t. He’s on the couch watching a movie with his grandma who passed out right beside him. You walk over to them, grabbing the remote control and turning off the television. Unlike his father at that age, Ren doesn’t throw a tantrum. His eyes go directly towards you and he runs your way, and you pick him up from the floor. You kiss his forehead.

“Did you have fun?” You ask, and he nods in response. He then looks at his grandmother who is fast asleep. He points at her and you chuckle in response. “What do you say, should we wake her or let her sleep on the couch?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, and you raise your brows.

“Well, is the couch comfortable enough to sleep on?” And maybe you shouldn’t have asked because Ren finds any surface comfortable to sleep on, so of course he nods his head in response. You kiss his little face over and over again, and you ask, “You wanna sleep with mommy tonight?”

“Yeah.” He answers, and you put him down on the floor.

“Will you get ready for bed and then go to my room while I wake up grandma?” You ask him, and he slowly nods his head. His tiredness gets to him, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier which makes it hard for him to keep his eyes open. He walks away and you attempt to wake your mom up.

“Mom.” You half whisper, patting her shoulder to wake her up. You have to do so a couple of times before she finally opens her eyes. She takes a moment to gain consciousness and when she does, she frantically looks around. You laugh, and you’re glad that it’s something that you can laugh about since Ren is fine. “Ren is okay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I was so tired and he wore me down.” Your mother apologizes and you assure her that it’s okay; Ren is fine, there’s nothing you can reprimand her about. Sure, it’s dangerous to leave him unsupervised but Ren is a smart boy and she didn’t fall asleep on purpose. “How was your date?”

“Guess who we bumped into?” You respond and she ends up sighing. Maybe she should’ve warned you against dating Satoru, but since she watched you two grow up together, she thought that maybe things would work out. But they didn’t, and Satoru is entitled. He grew up spoiled, how could he not be? “It’s fine. He walked away without saying a word anyway. I don’t think he’ll do much.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t.” Your mother says, although she doubts it. She watched the boy grow up, and while she’s not sure if Satoru still cares about you or not, she knows that Satoru doesn’t like when people use his old toys. She yawns before saying, “I’m going to bed. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

When you get to work on Monday, you’re mentally prepared to deal with a bitchy Satoru. You’re ready for him to act the same way he did when you first started working together. However, he isn’t. He isn’t quite nice either, he’s silent. He doesn’t say anything to you when he walks past you. You don’t know what to say to him either, so you don’t greet him.

For an entire day, you work well without anything personal getting in the way. You hate to say that you like this arrangement better because he’s not the same cold boss, but he isn’t the one that’s trying to joke around with you. He simply does his job and you couldn’t be more grateful. Him seeing you with Suguru was the final push that was needed. Whether you’re okay with each other or not, the fact of the matter is that business comes first. 

You’re working late once again, and he’s asking a million questions. The charity event that’s coming up has to be perfect, it’s the first big event that’s hosted with Satoru in charge, and he can’t afford to screw that up. You keep yawning with every passing second since you’ve been here since the morning, and you’re sure that it’s almost midnight.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, and you shake your head even though your stomach growls. The last time you ate was more than eight hours ago. You don’t want to waste more time, you simply want to get home and go to sleep since you doubt your baby boy is still awake. “I am. You should order some food.”

You glare at him but regardless do what he says because you have no other option but to. He’s still your boss. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want.” He responds, and you’re about to argue that you don’t want to eat, but you do want to eat. You know you’ll end up wasting your time and energy by arguing that you’re not hungry. Getting something to eat is two taps on your phone screen, and then you can focus back on work. But it doesn’t seem like he wants to. You try to talk to him about the topic at hand but he doesn’t say anything. When you don’t get a response, you repeat yourself, but he replies with, “I’m too hungry to work right now.”

“I don’t see the point in continuing this. We can always start early tomorrow.” You say. It’s not like you can leave when you just ordered food. Satoru raises his eyebrows but instead of agreeing or disagreeing with you, he says,

“Contact the front desk, tell them you’re expecting a food delivery.” And you do as he says. Since he doesn’t want to continue working while you wait, you stand up from your chair and you begin to walk out of the office. You plan on calling your mom (who took after the nanny when the sun began to go down), talking to your son, and then playing some stupid game when Ren gets tired of talking to you. But Satoru speaks up, making you stop in your tracks. It’s a question that has been on his mind the entire day, “How was your date with my best friend?”

“Are you two still best friends?” You ask, turning to look at him. He crosses his arms, leaning back on his chair. You feel your face get warm as you realize you’re the last person that should probably ask that question. “It was fine. I don’t think that’s an appropriate question though.”

“Hmm… I don’t think you dating my best friend is appropriate.” He responds, and you roll your eyes. He stands up from his chair and begins to walk over to you.

“Why not?” You reply. He stands right in front of you, his hands in his pockets. He purses his lips together, wondering if you really asked that question. He opens his mouth to speak but you speak before him, “You’re really the last person that’s allowed to tell me what isn’t appropriate. I hate to remind you that months within our break up you were married to another woman.”

“Well, we were broken up. Not like I was cheating on you.” He argues, making you scoff. Right, just because he wasn’t cheating on you everything is good. The whole situation stops being fucked up. He stopped being your lifelong friend, cutting off all contact with you and getting married, but it’s all fine because at least he wasn’t cheating. “That’s my friend who you’re trying to get with.”

“The same friend who had a crush on me? Didn’t you get with me knowing that Suguru had a crush on me?” You point out, making him clench his jaw. “You’re really no friend, Satoru.”

“Mr. Gojo. We’re in a professional environment, don’t talk to me like you’re my friend when we’re not.” He corrects you out of spite, and you roll your eyes at him. He says through gritted teeth, “Would you have chosen him over me?”

“Didn’t you just say that we’re in a professional environment? Why are you asking me this question, Mr. Gojo?” You laugh in disbelief. He bites his tongue and you sigh in response before nodding, “I would have chosen him over you. Suguru has never and will never treat me the way you treat me. Do you remember why you stopped being friends with me when we were preteens? Because you didn’t want to be friends with the poor girl. Suguru never thought of me as less than, but you– You’ve always managed to make me feel inferior even when you weren’t meaning to.”

It’s all lies. Given the option you would choose Satoru over and over again.

“You’re basing your answer off something that happened when we were twelve?” He asks, and you nod your head in response. You won’t elaborate further about all the instances. It doesn’t matter anyway.

“This isn’t something that we should discuss. It doesn’t matter now anyway, what’s done is done.” You say. “You’re married. Why does it matter if I had chosen you or Suguru? We don’t end up together anyway.”

“Because it hurts me.” He’s honest, and you puff out a breath. You inhale and think of what to say next. You’re definitely not getting out of work after dinner so you might as well try to make things less awkward for the night.

“Let’s get even then. If we were eighteen again and Sayo was friends with you, would you have chosen me or her?” You ask, and you feel your heart get heavy. Maybe you understand why he feels hurt because knowing that a man you loved so dearly for so many years, wouldn’t choose you if he had the chance to go back in time. But it’s not your fault. He chose to leave you. He takes two steps closer to you, dangerously getting closer to you. “Would you have chosen me or Sayo?”

“You. I would’ve chosen you.” Satoru’s hands cup your face and you watch his face creep closer to yours. You watch him, and maybe you should push him away but you’re too dumbfounded to say anything. Before you can even say anything, Satoru’s soft lips press against your own.

Your eyes are wide open as you feel his lips on yours. Should you push him away? What the actual hell is he doing? He’s married– He’s fucking married and he said he would’ve chosen you. He’s a piece of shit. He’s a fucking jerk kissing another woman that isn’t his wife.

You aren’t proud as you shut your eyes, your hands going behind his head and pulling him closer.

#[changes] #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

[missmonsters2]

Your Touch is My Shelter

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: 6 months later, Natasha returns from the dead. It's a tightly kept secret as it's unknown how she returned, but everyone claws and fights about who will keep watch over her like savages. You're far down the list of people who should protect her, but you find yourself unable to leave her be.

Warnings/Tags: hurt/comfort. undisclosed trauma. physical and mental signs of trauma. angst. somber assisted bath time. sad hair braiding. emphasis on hurt AND comfort.

Note: This takes place after endgame :-) the dates might be inaccurate idk i did my best 🥲 ha-ha enjoy 👁️👁️

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 5.2k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You heard the news through Bruce. 

Well, it was through Bruce telling Pepper, and you just happened to be at the coffee machine getting shitty coffee. The quality drastically dropped since Tony was gone, and you've been putting off telling Pepper she needed to literally buy anything else. 

You didn't really know how long was the appropriate time for someone to grieve before you could ask if they could buy another brand of coffee.

Tony was gone. 

A part of you thinks you keep putting off telling Pepper because then you'd have to face—really face—he was gone. 

Steve was gone. 

What did it matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Coffee was just coffee, and it'd probably taste fine if you just put a shitload of sugar and creamer in it. 

Vision was gone. 

Honestly, you only really noticed because it was the same brand as whatever was stocked up at the Avengers Compound. 

Natasha was gone. 

But perhaps the coffee always tasted bad at the Compound and it had nothing to do with Tony being gone. Natasha used to bring coffee into the office most days for people, and Clint filled in the other days. 

Maybe Tony Stark just liked shitty coffee, and you were only now just noticing it. 

Natasha was back. 

Your hand faltered at the coffee machine, spilling a little of it on your hand, and the burn stung immediately.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked as he noticed you inhale a sharp breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly at him before looking at Pepper. "Morgan's fine. She just has the flu and her fever's gone down. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and fluids. I'm going to set up a humidifier for her and help her settle into bed with a movie and wait for her to fall asleep before I head out."

Pepper let out a heavy breath, putting her hand over her chest in relief. "Oh, perfect. Thank you so much for coming suddenly. I just—Morgan doesn't really like going to the hospital, and suddenly she started throwing up and having a fever—"

"It's fine, Pepper," you waved off her ramblings after you wiped what you spilled on the counter. "You can always call me if you need me."

"Seriously, I think I might just employ you full-time as a live-in doctor if you say that," Pepper joked, and you laughed. 

"I am already your live-in doctor, just for one of your research labs. instead."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You don't think about Natasha—at least, you try not to. 

You heard things here and there about it through Pepper. Apparently, she's being held in a government facility similar to The Raft, detained like some criminal they needed to study instead of the war hero who sacrificed everything to save the world. 

It made you sick to your stomach. 

But you hear that Clint, Bruce, and Nick Fury have been fighting to get custody of her, so you don't think about it. There were people who knew Natasha far better than you did and were way closer to her than you were. 

She was in good hands. 

So, you continue on with your daily routine to pass your monotonous days, unaware you're waiting for some kind of update.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next time you heard about Natasha Romanoff, it was Clint and Bruce cornering you at your lab.

"What?" You panicked, tensing up. "Why me?"

"You're the only person Natasha ever sought out to treat her," Clint answered, and you felt even more lost at the fact he knew. "Natasha allows medical professionals onsite to help her, but there were times she left to go see you. That has to mean something."

But, of course, he knew. He was Natasha's...best friend. And Clint was an incredibly nosy person, even if Natasha didn't tell him. 

"I've only treated her a handful of times—literally only five times. I don't know her that well," you shook your head, trying to walk around them. "I didn't even know she had a sister until you told me."

"Please," Clint begged. "I'm fighting to get her out, and the doctors they have looking after her are shady and callous with her. I can only visit her with Nick's influence, but it's not enough to get her out of there."

"And what do you suppose I can do?"

"You're a renowned cellular biologist," Bruce cut in. "If they're holding her for research, we want someone on our side who will at least treat her like a human being. The faster we get answers, the faster we can get her out."

"Please," Clint begged again. "Natasha needs help. She's...different. And it's only going to get worse if she remains in there. She's not talking, and they won't let her go until they can find some answers."

It felt wrong. 

You don't want to study Natasha Romanoff like an animal. Despite being a scientist with an inquisitive mind, you don't care about how she returned.

But it sounded like Natasha would be researched whether you liked it or not. And if that was the case, you do wonder how the other doctors may be treating her.

"Fine, we're going first thing in the morning," you gritted out, unable to block out the handful of memories of times you've treated her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2012

"Oo, that looks painful," you hissed in sympathy as a redhead with a busted lip and nasty gash on her temple entered the med bay.

There was a snort that sounded like a half-grunt. "It looks worse than it feels. I hope I'm not intruding, but Tony said I should see you to be treated."

"Natasha, right?" You asked slowly, gesturing to a seat for her to take as you grabbed some medical supplies. 

"Yes," Natasha replied, equally slow with caution.

"Tony talks about you a lot," you tried to reassure her of whatever paranoia she might have. It probably didn't help that Natasha was still in her catsuit and probably would've preferred to be called by her alias.

"Well, don't believe everything he says," Natasha gives a light but somewhat tight smile. 

"Oh, so you aren't a unique woman with high intellect, sneaky, and rightfully smug?" You teased, and it was flattering that you could make a superhero laugh. 

You began treating Natasha's wound carefully. 

"You're pretty good at this, doc," Natasha commented as you blew on her brow, even if it didn't sting. "You're pretty gentle. Must be why Tony says you're his personal doctor."

You chuckled. "I'm actually a cellular biologist. Tony is funding my research and pretty much my lifestyle. With the money he's paying me, he can come crying about his boo-boos anytime. Although, he doesn't really come to me for serious stuff. It's usually if he has something ridiculous like a papercut."

"But you can treat wounds and other medical things?" 

"I was on my way to becoming a medical doctor before I decided to go into research instead."

"Huh," Natasha hummed, raising her brow at you. "Smart cookie."

"I'd like to think so," you finished cleaning Natasha's wound and putting a bandaid over it. "Feel free to come see me if you need any other basic medical aid. For a pretty redhead, it's free of charge."

"And if I come back blonde?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you smiled, and Natasha smirked back at you.

"Smart and funny. Tony has it too good."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

April 2014

"This is the worst bandage job I've ever seen. Who did you go to see for this? A grocery clerk?"

Natasha grunted. "Hi, to you too, doc."

You looked at Natasha, noticing how different her hair is now. But it's been about two years since you have seen her. Despite your offer for her to come to you anytime she needed help, she never did. Or she rarely did, you supposed. 

You could only deduce that Natasha was used to caring for her wounds on her own. That, or she didn't trust you. 

"Alright, let's go to my office," you sighed. 

"Am I interrupting?"

"Not really, kind of hit a brick wall."

"Oh, me too."

You looked over at Natasha, who had a straight face, but you noticed the bruise on her temple outside the obvious gun wound on her shoulder.

You pursed your lips. "Will you hate me if I laugh?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, I may like you less if you don't."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2015

"You know, when I told you that you could come for me for basic medical aid, I feel like you didn't understand the meaning of basic."

"Is this too complicated for you?"

"No."

"Then am I unwelcomed?"

You pursed your lips at the redhead, who stared at you with a tiny upward quirk on her lip. "No," you sighed. "Just not sure why you'd want to see me for such serious wounds. There are other more experienced doctors."

You lift Natasha's shirt up, looking at the long gash on the side of her stomach. "We're gonna need to stitch this up. I've been doing research with Dr. Cho, and we have a new machine that can help with cell tissue generation. It would be faster than me manually stitching—"

"It's fine," Natasha declined. "I'd prefer if you manually did it."

You frown lightly at the fact but relent to the redhead's wishes. Another year passes, and Natasha's hair has changed again. 

You worked silently on cleaning Natasha's wound, and she also declined the anesthetic. You focus on stitching up the wound with precision and care.

"I like to go to you for some things because your touch is gentle," Natasha said quietly, but it felt so loud in the silent room. "It makes me feel human when I can feel your touch."

You looked over at her face briefly, but Natasha wasn't looking at you. You don't take any deeper meaning into it. She's someone who's probably felt dehumanized most of her life. The machines that can heal her twice as fast would be fine for life-threatening injuries, but it probably all feels clinical. 

You looked back down at the stitch. "Well, as long as you're a redhead, it's free of charge."

"Don't kid yourself, I would look perfect blonde."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

September 2016

"What are you doing here?" You hissed as you pulled Natasha in quickly, peering outside before shutting the door. 

"Why? Am I unwelcomed now?" Natasha's tone sounded a little hurt, and you scan her body. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere that required immediate attention, but you did notice crusted blood at the edge of her nostrils. 

"No, but you could get caught here," you shook your head at her. "They're looking for you and the rest of team cap everywhere."

Natasha shrugged. "I highly doubt Tony has your place under surveillance. We don't meet enough for anyone to consider looking for me through you."

You sighed, not sure what to feel about the statement. "I suppose. I don't work for Tony anymore, anyway."

Natasha's brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"I don't agree with what he's doing."

"So you're on Steve's side?"

"No, I think Steve was obstinate too. They're both stupid. Men are stupid."

Natasha laughed before wincing as she held her nose.

"What happened?" You brought her over to your couch before finding your first aid kit.

"I broke my nose," Natasha shrugged. "Can you believe breaking my nose saved millions of girls?"

"With you? Yes." You smirked as you tilted her head to look at the injury closer. "Lucky you. Looks like you don't need surgery. Do you always come here immediately after you save the world?"

"Yep."

"Couldn't even clean your nose before you did?"

"And deprive you of giving me care? I wouldn't dare."

You snorted, carefully cleaning the blood in and around her nose. It was silent again before Natasha spoke up.

"So, what happened with your research stuff now that Tony's not sponsoring your work?"

"Pepper is funding it, even though she knows I won't share anything with Stark Industries at the moment. She doesn't want me to sell my research or provide any data to other companies."

"Smart cookie."

"And a really hot blonde."

"This feels targeted. It's like you know I might dye my hair blonde soon."

"You're still a redhead; I have no idea what you mean. I like your hair, though. Braids look good on you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2018

Natasha showed up at your front step, holding her rib. There's a look of genuine relief at seeing you.

"You're still here," her voice sounds empty and hollow. "You're still here."

You pulled her inside gently. You're still in shock yourself. You were on a walk when people started disappearing left and right. The sheer panic on the streets was chaos as you were dialing Pepper frantically, almost crying when she picked up the phone. Then there were actual tears when you called other people in your life, and half of them didn't pick up...and they weren't going to. 

"I'm here," you swallowed. "What happened to your rib?"

"I don't know." Natasha looked so lost. There was the look of failure and self-blame all over her face. 

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't know."

You grasp her wrist, carefully moving her hand away from her rib before gently putting your fingertips against them. Your fingers trail up, down, and around. 

Suddenly, Natasha broke into tears. 

"Does it hurt?" You asked, panicked.

"You're still here," was all Natasha choked through her tears.

You didn't know what to do other than treat her wounds more gently than ever before while reassuring her you hadn't disappeared. You were one of the many people on this planet still here. And when she was better, she'd get the rest of them back. 

It was a long and exhausting night, and Natasha fell asleep in your bed, and you made sure she was comfortable before leaving to sleep on the couch.

Natasha's hair has changed again.

"You look good blonde."

That was the last time you saw her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha's hair has changed again. She's gone back to being a redhead with blonde tips. Her hair was a mess, barely brushed, and looked knotted. 

The room was big and had padded walls, a singular bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in another. There were lights in parts of the cell but also areas of darkness. It looked like a fucking prison cell. 

You were looking through an unbreakable glass window, the middle holding up a microphone you assumed was linked to the speaker in the room.

Natasha stood in the middle of the room under the light in a hospital gown falling off her shoulder. Her hands were covered in scars, and her lips were so chapped, you were sure they'd split even if Natasha breathed the wrong way. 

Natasha was only a few feet away from you, but it felt like she was a million miles away.

They let you see her alone under the guise of privacy as you saw her.

You felt you weren't supposed to see this—see her like this. 

A sense of dread filled you at the blank expression on Natasha's face at what she'd gone through—what she was still going through. 

She was a hero, and this was how they were treating her? This was someone who had fought wars repeatedly for this stupid country and the rest of the world, and they had her locked up like a mental ward patient from the 1600s.

You thought the government had gotten better. There were reforms and peace after people came back from the snap. This wasn't how they were supposed to treat someone who'd given up their life to ensure everyone got theirs. 

It shouldn't matter that she came back; she had still given it up in the first place for them. 

Natasha didn't even seem to recognize you through the glass as you stepped closer to the microphone. She looked past you as if she could tell the exit was somewhere behind you. 

"Natasha?" You said into the mic, and it bellowed into the room.

Nothing. 

"Nat?" 

Natasha's eyes were listless. She was a broken, empty shell that seemed more like an animated corpse than actually being alive.

You swallowed, trying one more time. "You're still a redhead. Looks like it's still free of charge."

Natasha's eyes flickered this time, her head tilts towards you as she blinked with focus. It was just a spark, but it was something, and relief spreads through you. 

"Not completely." You could barely hear her voice, but it was coarse. Cold.

There should've been a joke about some kind of discount, but Natasha didn't make it. You were speechless.

You didn't know what to say. Don't worry, you're trapped in here, but I'm going to help with the research, and hopefully, we'll get you out soon?

It was like prolonging a death sentence. You were horrified.

"Just—wait for me," the words flew out of your mouth so fast but you meant them with every ounce of your being. "You're gonna go home with me today."

Natasha's eyes sparked at the words but just as quick as you saw it, they died out, falling back into listlessness. She turned, stepping into a darkened corner away from your view and prying eyes of the cameras as she said, "No, I'm not."

You realized she's probably spent weeks watching Clint, Bruce, and Fury try to get her out unsuccessfully.

The resignation made something lurch in your throat and eyes sting with desperation and rage. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, we can send you a contract—"

"You're going to release her to my custody," you cut off some government official. He was old, wearing some kind of toupee that was slicked back to hide his balding head. 

He looked at you in disbelief, almost laughing like you were some stupid, naive young girl. 

He looks at Clint and Bruce, who are also just looking at you in shock.

"As I've told your friends and Nick Fury, this is out of their hands. The Accords are still intact as of right now, therefore—"

"I don't care about the Accords. You will release her into my care. I'm more than qualified and I have the resources to find the inane answers you're looking for while rehabilitating Agent Romanoff," you cut him off again, able to tell that it was irking him. 

"That won't be necessary as you can see we have the resources here," the government official raised his brow at you.

"Your resources can't compete with Stark's resources."

It was no secret that Tony had left a very sizable fortune to you in his will, outside of everything he gave to Pepper and Morgan. And it was also no secret how close you were with the surviving Starks. 

"Doctor," the government official sighed, obviously making it sound like you were a nuisance. "If you're not here to join our research team, I suggest you go on your way and remember the NDA you signed."

You glared at him even more. "I'm not leaving without Agent Romanoff. You will hand her over to me, or you will regret it."

"And exactly how will I regret it?" The government official looked smug, and you smirked back at him.

"I'm still in talks with the government regarding my research, and I will pull out and sell that information outside of this country as I'm free to do so. I know Dr. Cho is in talks between the US and South Korea about her nano-technology. One word from me, and America can fall behind on those advancements as well." You pulled out your cell phone in a threatening manner. "Pepper and I will pull out all of our money from the very same banks and company investments that you're supporting and make you watch as they collapse one after another."

"You'd ruin our entire economy—our country by doing so!" The official was red in the face. "You'd put your entire country into chaos?" He sneered at you.

"I will if you don't give me Agent Romanoff!" You sneered back at him. "It's not like you won't eventually get your research and answers if she's in my custody. It works in both our favor."

The official is staring at you, glaring and seething.

"I imagine your colleagues and superiors will pin the blame on you if this entire economy and country goes into ruin because if I have to do that, I will say that it's the government's fault. The NDA said I can't specifically talk about Natasha and this place, which I won't. But I'm sure some journalist will discover the truth and plaster all over the news what you're doing to a war hero," your voice was so vindictive; you're not sure if you've ever been so cold before. 

"So," your voice was flat, devoid of emotion now. "What will it be?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was agreed that Natasha would stay in a cabin that Pepper owned out in the countryside. You were to provide monthly updates on your research and rehabilitation progress. And while this was in headway, neither you nor Natasha was free to leave the country or this planet. 

Clint initially wanted you and Natasha to stay with him and his family, but you declined. You pointed out that it would be hard for him and his family—his children, especially—to see Natasha like this. 

Pepper had everything prepared while you gingerly collected Natasha.

"We're going home, Natasha," you said softly, shrugging off your jacket to wrap around her shoulders. But Natasha still didn't react, even if she let you take her hand and drag her out of the facility. 

During the car ride, you mentally planned what you needed to do. Natasha needed to eat, take a bath, and rest. 

"Have you eaten yet?" You asked the redhead, sitting stoically in the car, straight as a rod. 

There was no answer. Natasha was peering out the windshield, her hands perfectly on both thighs. Clint looked worried as he looked at you.

"Natasha?" You gently placed her hand over hers. You could feel the bumps of the white scars over her hand. A part of you is too frightened to ask where she got these from. 

Natasha looked down at your hand over hers before looking at you. Her eyes were so empty. Such a dull green like dying grass.

"Did you eat?" 

Natasha nodded once before looking back outside the windshield. 

You looked at Clint, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but deep down, you were afraid you had no idea what the fuck you were doing. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Pepper says you've been here before, but let me know if you need help finding anything," you brought her into the house where Natasha just stood, looking at nothing in particular. 

"Um," you took a shaky breath. "How about a bath? I'm sure it'll be good to get the grime and stale air off of you." 

Natasha didn't move on her own, so you began to lead her up the stairs to the bathroom. 

It was a detached tub near the high window to get plenty of sunlight without anyone being able to peer in. 

"I'll just get this started for you," you offered. Turning on the tap and pouring in a liquid that formed into bubbles. "Just make sure to check the temperature and adjust. Pepper says that sometimes that faucet can be a little finicky."

You turned to Natasha, who stood there, staring at the wall. She was unmoving, making no gesture if she was waiting for you to get out or to start undressing.

"Do you, um, need help?" You asked, but there was no answer. 

Maybe it would wake her up a little once she was in the water. 

"I'm—" you took a long breath in. "I'm gonna help you undress and get into the tub. If you get uncomfortable at any point, let me know and I can stop or do something else."

It wasn't like you've never seen a naked body before. You've seen plenty both in your sex life and field of work. You've even seen parts of Natasha's body when you've treated her. You just never thought you'd see Natasha fully naked. 

You slid your jacket off her shoulders, letting out a puff of breath. You looked past her as you undid the string of her hospital gown. You looked up when you slid down her underwear before guiding her towards the tub. Your gentle guiding seemed to spark Natasha into mechanically climbing into it herself the rest of the way. 

"Okay, cool. Um," you stuttered. "I'm sure you've been through a lot. Once you're done, we can get you into bed and if you're hungry later, I can make you something."

You were getting used to the lack of answers, but it didn't make your stomach drop any less. "Just let me know if you need anything."

You don't wait for a response this time, leaving without shutting the door fully. Down the hall, you leaned against the wall, swallowing harshly. 

It feels like you brought a lifeless shell home. A part of you wonders if Natasha really did return or if this was just some lifeless doll. 

You didn't want to think about it anymore, so you pushed yourself off the wall and into a bedroom with a suitcase and unzipped it open to grab some clothes.

When you were heading back, you heard the water still running and frowned. 

"Natasha?" You called as you opened the door. The tub was overfilling, and you rushed to turn off the faucet, trying to not slip.

Natasha was sitting how you left her, staring ahead at the running water but not really looking at it.

You sighed, relieved that the bathroom floor was designed with wood and curved so that any water would naturally run towards a drain in the floor. 

You go to check the temperature of the water and find that while it was initially fine when you turned it on, Natasha hadn't attempted to adjust it, and the finicky faucet ran nearly scalding water. 

"Jesus, Natasha, you're going to hurt yourself," you yelped. You braced through it and stuck your hand in to drain the tub halfway.

You inwardly sighed, knowing you would have to help Natasha through the entire process. You began to refill the tub, monitoring the temperature and shut it off when it was filled adequately. 

"I'm going to help wash you if that's okay," you muttered. "Just let me know if you prefer to do it yourself at any point."

You grabbed a nearby stool and sat on it before grabbing the loofa. You began with Natasha's shoulders and arms, trying to wash parts of her that were easy to access.

Natasha tensed as you washed her, so you tried to be more slow and careful. 

"It's just me," you said softly, trying to reassure the redhead. "I've always taken care of you."

Natasha said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed slightly as you continued. There wasn't much dirt on her, but the stale air that was surrounding her began to fade away. 

Her knees were propped up, folded to her chest, and you washed down her thighs and legs, trying to not think of anything too much as you did it. You tried not to think about the scars on her hands and feet. 

Readjusting your stool, you went to sit behind her. You used a cup to wet Natasha's hair, trying to detangle some of it gently first. It was then you discovered a shaven spot in the back of her head, where there was a large scar. You realized that was where Natasha's head hit the ground when she—

You swallowed, trying to suppress the anger that they shaved her head to get a look at something so private. 

You squeezed a considerable amount of shampoo in your hands and gently rubbed it into her scalp. Natasha tensed at first before your fingers massaging her scalp made her relax, her body leaning back against the tub and her head into your hands. 

It was quiet as you did this. You shampooed her hair twice before slathering it up in conditioner and finally getting out the rest of the knots. You drained the tub, grabbing the shower head to rinse her down once more before you grabbed a towel and helped her out. 

You helped put a bathrobe around her to help dry her as you didn't think you had the gall to fully dry every part of her by hand. Grabbing her clothes, you led her to her bedroom, setting her down on the bed. 

Natasha sat silently as you towel-dried her hair with gentle hands. Her eyes fell closed as you began to blow dry it. Your soft fingers tousling her hair. 

So delicate. 

When it was dry, you set the blow dryer aside. 

"Hm, your hair is pretty sensitive and might be for the next week. It might be better to braid it so it doesn't tangle and break when you're sleeping," you commented, mostly to yourself. 

You took sections of her hair, delicately beginning to put her hair into a french braid. 

"You've always had beautiful hair, red or blonde," you complimented Natasha as you finished. You moved to sit in front of her to check if you did okay from the front. There wasn't a response, but Natasha opened her eyes. They focused on you, looking at you as they traced over the features of your face. She was studying you apprehensively. 

Natasha lifted a hand, slowly reaching up as her fingers brushed the side of your face. It felt bumpy from the scars, but it made the back of your throat burn. 

"Am I really here?" Natasha mumbled as she then traced your cheek before your lips. "Am I really here with you?"

Your eyes were burning now. You couldn't even answer right away because you were afraid your lips would start trembling. 

You lifted your hand, hesitating at first, before you held her hand against your face. "Yeah, you're really here."

The edges of Natasha's eyes began to brim with tears. 

"When I jumped, I didn't die right away," Natasha whispered. "There was a feeling that something bad was going to happen. It didn't get me yet, but it was going to."

You couldn't help the tears that began to fall over the edge of your eyes when they overfilled. 

"Something bad happened to me," Natasha's lip trembled. "It's still happening to me."

You gripped her hand tighter unintentionally, but it was like it grounded Natasha. 

"I was scared," Natasha admitted. "I was scared that even if you came to me, it wouldn't go away."

Then, Natasha grabbed your hand and placed it against her cheek. It was still warm from the bath and blow dryer. 

"But I can feel your touch," Natasha sighed like it was a relief. "It's gentle and I feel human. I'm scared I'm not really here."

"You are."

Your throat felt clogged with raw emotions, and you didn't know what to do with it. You've only seen Natasha a handful of times, and maybe it's because the more you do, the more emotionally charged you both feel. 

"You're really here," you told Natasha, using your thumb to caress her cheek. You didn't know what else to say. 

All you can do is offer her shelter under your touch.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanov x reader #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha x you #mm: my fics

[essentiallyleaf]

day 19. rimming. with. haewon.

723 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, haewon is haewon, what else is there to say, rimming, handjob, writer is the moon knight meme in this one.

notes.

im out of (barely) good ideas and im panicking. fizzlingoutly, leaf.

You didn’t think it’d be so easy getting from Haewon’s overlip leaving pink-leaning-orange (she keeps insisting she’s a cool tone, but hm, is she really?) marks on her coke glass to the same lip imprints circling your butthole as she leaves wet kisses all around it. No, it was just a quick exchange, like she was choosing what to have for lunch at Subway.

“Wait, you’ve done this already, right?” You ask her, not without a little worry.

“Nah, have you?” She spits back casually.

“I thought you were the one who ate ass and wanted me to be your mate?! You know, mate in the, Brit sense, not in the… scientific sense.” That was more complicated than it needed to be.

“I dunno, I’m just tryna have fun.” She shrugs.

The correct answer, like in the Subway situation, is to not find yourself there, but if for some reason you do, might as well try to make the best of it. And the best of it, in this case, supposedly consists in Haewon’s hands keeping your thighs wide open as you lay on your back while her tongue takes a few short, explorative trips from your testicles, down to your perineum, applying a little pressure on it, and to the edge of your puckered hole. She brings her fingers up to your previously lubricated shaft to stroke it from time to time, but your groans when she does make them retreat immediately, reminding her that no, that’s not the main dish tonight.

It feels a little weird, having something touch you down there, but when that something has the soft, smooth texture, the expert dexterity and the cunning wit of Haewon’s tongue, well, then it’s probably Haewon’s tongue that’s when weird falls into the background to make space for pleasing, as testified by your whimpers, starting sparse and now becoming more and more frequent. That’s enough evidence for the girl to deduce that it’s time to go in, and when she does without any sign of warning, the only thing that can reasonably come out of your mouth, after a loud moan, that is, is a “Fuck you!”. That’s fair, she thinks, as she keeps attacking the inside of your cavern, and fair is the answer that you receive.

“That’s only gonna happen later, be patient”

Haewon starts circling all around the inner edge of your hole, making you bring a hand to your mouth to try to contain your own groans, or worse, screams. How does the joke bear get to this? How does she go from acting as the loser girl transferring schools in 7th grade for shits and giggles, to having you struggle to keep your shit together in your own bed because she wanted to, and this should be more or less the exact quote, “tongue-punch your bussy, you little boy bitch!”? Maybe sometimes it’s better not to ask. Other times, you don’t really have the physical capability to ask because your ‘friend’ (an umbrella term, but the most appropriate one to describe the two of you, you think; again, sometimes it’s better not to ask) is alternating between pumping her tongue deep in your asshole and wrapping her lips around its entrance to suck all the air out of it. Those times, the hand that was keeping your mouth closed becomes an object just like any other to bite onto, because now it would be screams. Those times, making the best of it is letting Haewon play with her toy and focusing on not letting the whole neighborhood know about it. Not supposedly anymore.

So when the final thrusts of her tongue hit you where it pleases the most, both of her hands back on your length and stroking, the only thing you can do is wail onto your own hand while you watch spurts upon spurts of white fly up in the air and back down on your abs, the muscles of your ass flexing repeatedly around her tongue. Lay your head back down onto the pillow and let yourself catch your breath again as you spread your arms open on the bed. Not even a minute, and she’s already taking her zip-up sweater and ripped blue jeans off and throwing them on the ground.

“Come on, fucker, what did you think the main dish was?”

-

footnotes.

maybe the formula is just sleep schedule plus work ethic, times effort. mathematically, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #nmixx #haewon #oh haewon #nmixx haewon #nmixx smut #haewon smut #oh haewon smut #nmixx haewon smut

[vettelsvee]

BEE HOTELS | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

sebastian vettel x wife!journalist!reader

summary: seb's suzuka biodiversity project goes according to plan... or will he have some surprises that he might reject at first?

word count: 1983

warnings: none of it really! just seb being the standard, as i always write him (almost always, oops). use of y/n y/l/n

taglist: @celemilii bc i wrote this for her as a birthday present! i recommend you to read her works bc she's just like me: we write about the oldies.

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback is truly appreciated!

The painting in yellow and black tones increasingly filled his hands. Sweat dripped from his forehead, not only due to the sun that was blazing that day in Suzuka but also because of the stress he was feeling to ensure that the project turned out as planned: flawlessly.

Sebastian had spent months not only brainstorming and meticulously preparing for that Japanese Grand Prix weekend but also dedicating himself wholeheartedly the night before to build each of the hotels that his former colleagues were now painting.

He was exhausted, but the feeling of happiness he was experiencing at that moment was immense. The conversations among the other drivers couldn't be more positive. They seemed to be enjoying the process, constantly sharing laughter and jokes among them as they continued with their task the best they could.

While the German was focused on ensuring that everything was going perfectly, he could gradually see, out of the corner of his eye, a figure he knew perfectly well in any form.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" 

Her husband's tone surprised Y/N, who lowered her arms, disheartened, knowing that the hug she was about to give would most likely not be reciprocated.

"I came to see you. What else would I do?" replied the journalist, ignoring Seb's behavior. "And to interview you too, but you already know it."

The blonde frowned, feeling a bit confused by the situation. Interview him? How could there be nothing he wouldn't know?

"Interview me?" he innocently asked.

"Didn't Britta tell you?"

Sebastian shook his head once again. Y/N’s gaze shifted to Roeske, who averted his eyes at the mess he knew he had caused with the couple. The former driver's PR knew that if he had said anything beforehand, Seb would have likely rejected the offer and, most importantly, gotten upset. Besides, he knew that such a refusal would upset Mrs. Vettel, and that would end up in a pointless argument between the couple.

"Well, you know how Britta is. She didn't mention anything about interviewing me today, especially not by you. You know, with so many things she has to keep track of..." Vettel tried to excuse her.

The journalist shook her head and once again looked at the PR, seeking confirmation from his side. A single nod was enough to acknowledge that her client was right.

"Y/N, schön, we need to maintain professionalism," Vettel stated firmly, seeing that neither of the two women responded. "I don't think it's very appropriate to mix our personal life with the professional one. We've always done it this way, and we should..."

"To hell with professionalism, darling," she interrupted, raising her voice. "We've been pretending to be professional for too many years to keep doing it. You've been retired for almost a year, living the life you've always wanted with our children and me," she explained, trying to convince him. "It won't hurt if you let go and be yourself, if we just are ourselves."

Sebastian remained silent for a few seconds that felt eternal for the woman. He knew Y/N was right, he knew nothing would happen if they showed themselves as the couple they were in private, but his shyer side, the most introverted one, the one that wanted to protect his privacy above all and, above all, his family, felt a kind of fear that this would end up making him completely vulnerable to public scrutiny.

"Alright, let's do the interview," the German finally said, causing his wife to start hopping around before pouncing on him and kissing him all over his face.

"Where should we start, Mr. Vettel?"

"What about giving Mrs. Vettel a kiss?" he replied, playing along with the game the journalist had started. "You know, to help ease any tensions..."

Sebastian didn't need to say anything more for his wife to take his face in her hands and pull him towards her, giving him a kiss that lasted not only longer than they would have allowed on another occasion, but also longer than they themselves expected.

They ended up pulling away after a few seconds, just as they began to hear cheers, applause, and comments from the other drivers, who were watching the couple enthralled, as they had never shown themselves in such a way during their years in Formula 1.

"Carry on with what you're doing!" the four-time world champion shouted, trying not to sound angry. "I don't want anything left unfinished!"

Y/N couldn't help but blush and lower her head in embarrassment at all the attention she was drawing.

"Um... shall we start now, darling?" the journalist spoke again, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Yes, yes, of course. Go ahead, ask me anything."

She quickly pulled out her notebook, where she had written down a large number of questions to ask her husband as if she hadn't actually worked hand in hand with him on the project. She tried to maintain professionalism despite the still uncomfortable situation they were immersed in.

Seb, who seemed to notice how tense the woman was, decided to do things a little differently, although it was more than obvious that it took him some effort to take the first step.

Quickly and with trembling hands, he wrapped his right arm around his wife's waist and slowly guided her to sit on the ground next to him. She resisted at first because, deep down, she was also afraid to show herself as she truly was with the love of her life; but when she saw how the German also invited the cameraman who was filming them to sit on the ground, she knew there was no choice but to listen to the guy who initially meant nothing to her but ended up becoming her everything.

"More comfortable like this, right, schön?" Sebastian wanted to know, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, I think it will be more comfortable, darling," she replied, allowing herself to be guided by her husband's behavior, although once again blushing slightly.

With her head resting on his shoulder, the journalist took her notebook in her hands again, flipping through the page where she had the first question of what would undoubtedly be the most fake interview not only she had ever done but probably would do in her extensive career as a journalist.

"Well, let's start, darling. What inspired you the most to start this biodiversity project?"

"Well, as you know, I've always felt a special connection with nature and the environment. Do you remember the conversations we used to have, like, I don't know, about twelve or thirteen years ago?" she nodded. Of course, she remembered. How could she forget when he revealed to her how much the issue mattered to him at his home in Monaco, even before they had started dating? "I wanted to do something to show the importance of biodiversity, so these bee hotels seemed perfect to me."

"And why Suzuka, Seb?"

"Do you really need an answer to that question?" the man countered, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you already knew."

Now it was Y/N who looked less than pleased. Of course she knew why he had chosen Suzuka, it's just that the viewers, possibly, didn't.

"Suzuka is a very special place for me, both professionally and personally," the German continued. "This place has witnessed many important moments of my life, and I wanted to somehow give back everything it has done for me. Its people, I mean," he hastened to add. The journalist laughed at the incoherence of the response, earning herself a playful punch on the arm and some affectionate insults.

The interview continued in such a way that, more than a recording that would be broadcast on various media later, it seemed like one of those informal chats the couple used to have in their room, lying on the bed they both shared, after reading a story to their children and leaving them completely asleep.

Laughs, knowing looks, and even some intimate memories that ended up being revealed to the camera flowed effortlessly. Sebastian couldn't stop playing with Sally's hands and hair, caressing them so delicately that she seemed like a porcelain doll. The journalist, on her part, couldn't stop running her index finger up and down her husband's arm, writing invisible messages about how much she loved him.

"To finish I'd like to know something, darling. How was the process of designing and building each one of those bee hotels?"

"As you already know, and for those who are watching, I was lucky to work with a local carpenter yesterday. We worked on them all day long, and even part of the night. There are eleven in total: one for each team, and one for me," replied the German with a big smile.

His wife started laughing, and her lips twisted in a way that it wasn't hard for Vettel to recognize that his wife was hiding something.

"In fact, there are twelve, Seb," the journalist said with a playful tone.

"What do you mean twelve?" he asked, quite confused. "Love, you were there yesterday. There were eleven. One for each team, one for every two drivers, and another for..."

"I made one myself and I painted it too. Well... some parts are already painted because I asked the kids, secretly, to paint them so you could have a little piece of them here..."

The former driver was impressed by his wife's confession, and he couldn't help but feel emotional. Even a couple of tears threatened to leave his eyes when he saw Y/N, completely excited, getting up from the grass and fixing her clothes before reaching out her hand to him.

"What are you waiting for, Seb? Come on, you have to see it!"

Seb followed her, feeling a mix of very strange emotions after sharing life with this girl for so many years. When they arrived, they stopped in front of it, Britta taking photos from every possible angle and then starting a video call with the couple's children, who were staying with Seb’s parents.

"Schön, this is... God, I have no words. It's incredible."

Y/N smiled proudly before heading towards the structure and start explaining him everything.

"I've drawn us here, right in the front," indeed, there were two larger figures next to three smaller ones, surrounded by flowers and trees. "And here are the kids' drawings. Honestly, I don't know what they've drawn, but... I knew it would make you happy to have a little piece of them too."

The blonde bent down in front of the hotel made by his wife, examining it carefully as he traced with his fingers the strokes that Emily, Matilda, and Ben had made who knows when, and that seemed to have been well hidden. They were simple, clumsy, but he knew that behind them there was something much more important: the purest love he had ever experienced and that nothing and no one could surpass, not even his wife.

"It's wonderful, Y/N. You have no idea what this means to me."

Y/N could only approach her husband and give him a chaste kiss on the lips, not caring this time what happened next.

"I did it for you, Seb. I love you, we love you," she corrected herself, turning towards the mobile phone in front of them that Britta still held, referring to their children, who could be heard excitedly. "You are the sunshine of our lives and you deserve much more than this."

Sebastian didn't hesitate to, once again, kiss Y/N, and then hug her tightly, continuing to give her kisses on her temples.

"I wouldn't be the sunshine of your life if you weren't in it," he whispered in her ear. "You are the sunshine of my life. I love you, Y/N. Thank you for everything."

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 #formula one #sebastian vettel x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #vettel #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x yn #formula one x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x you #formula 1 one shot #formula one x y/n #formula 1 x yn #fluff #dad sebastian vettel #journalist reader #formula one one shot #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel imagine #save the bees #bee hotels

[emeritusemeritus]

Since never. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: Since Never.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader (background George Weasley x Angelina)

Timeline: GOF, McGonagall’s dance class.

Summary: George meddles and Fred finally finds the courage to ask you to the Ball, not liking the idea of anyone else taking you. Inspired by TikTok, based on movie canon.

Warnings: Friends to lovers, minor kissing, harmless pranks. A load of fluff. Fred has a crush.

I’m thinking of writing a part two to this, but it would most likely just be self indulgent fluff 🤍

"You know," George whispers into his twin's ear, trying to get Fred's attention whilst also trying to stay under McGonagall's radar as she addresses the Gryffindor students all huddled into one large classroom. The Triwizard Tournament and the associated Yule Ball had been announced the day before and as head of house, Mcgonagall had been tasked with teaching her students the traditional Waltz. The girls were seated on the left side of the room whilst the boys were seated on the right, kept separate for now as they listened to her explaining the ins and out of the tournament and the ball.

George leans forward to whisper once again to Fred who stands with his arms folded, watching in amusement as Filch hopelessly fiddles with an archaic megaphone, trying to get it to work. "Lee told me this morning that y/n's going to the ball with Cedric Diggory."

Fred's head immediately whips round with a face of utter horror as he turns to his brother, before briefly diverting his eyes over to you on the other side of the room and then returning his gaze to George.

"What, since when?"

"Since never," George smirks dangerously as he takes in Fred's rather apparent distaste to his words, his dismay and disappointment etched right across his face. "But your reaction just told me everything I needed to know."

Fred huffs and slinks back onto the windowsill where he'd been leaning feeling a little embarrassed at being caught out so easily by his twin. His crush on you was one of the only secrets he'd ever hidden from his twin, though apparently rather unsuccessfully, never wanting to be teased about it. You'd all been friends for so long that he never wanted to make things awkward by admitting his feelings and so he'd kept quiet for nearly two years of loving you secretly and silently.

"You should ask her," George says, leaning in once again. Fred doesn't reply, at least not verbally, but instead shoots his brother a fierce look that tells him to back off.

"Something may be about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don't think it's a swan," Fred hears Ron mumble to his surrounding classmates, their eyes all sneakily turning to look at the girl in question, who shifts uncomfortably where she stands, unaware that half the boys of Gryffindor are looking at her. Fred's gaze doesn't linger long, instead finding you in the crowd, whispering with Angelica seated beside you as Hermione shoots you both a chastising look from the other side, clearly trying to listen intently to Mcgonagall.

Your hair is down now, not tied up in a high ponytail like it had been at breakfast. Your legs are neatly crossed in your seat, your school skirt revealing an appropriate but delicious amount of leg that Fred can hardly look away from. You're effortlessly beautiful, or at least you are to him, never looking better than when you are laughing and joking with your friends like right now. Sat surrounded by only the girls, Fred thinks it seems to to enhance your beauty, the prettiest face in a sea of girls.

"Mr Weasley."

Fred immediately looks up upon hearing his title called out as it so frequently is, though he's mightily relieved when it appears McGonagall was addressing his younger brother Ron, no doubt hearing him muttering.

"Will you join me please?" She asks, moving towards where he sits with an outstretched hand. The tone of her voice leaves no space for refusal as she tentatively reached out for his jumper and pulls him up of the chair, moving to stand in the middle of the room. The boys all make teasing noises as he stands, dragging his body over to Mcgonagall, feet hardly shuffling on the floor.

"Place your right hand on my waist," she says, opening her arms for him.

"Where?" He asks utterly horrified. Everyone looking on watches with sadistic amusement at his predicament. Fred can barely contain his delight at the scene before him, watching with utter glee, just like his twin beside him.

"My waist!" Mcgonagall replies, grabbing Ron by the sleeve and firmly placing his arm on her waist.

Fred heard a wolf whistle from the other side of the room and looks at you just in time to see your hand pull away from your mouth, clearly having been the perpetrator. The looking of delight on your face mirrors his own as you each catch each others gaze and he thinks just for a second that if he didn't love you already, it was firmly cemented now.

Ron turns and shoots you a look but you simply wink at him with a dung-eating grin before he is dragged back to focus on the professor.

"Mr Filch, if you please," Mcgonagall commands, prompting the caretaker to drop the needle on the record player, flinching only moments later as the speaker begins to crackle, before a signature waltz pours out.

"One two three, one two three," Mcgonagall starts counting as she leads Ron into a waltz, showing the steps that were specific to the champion's waltz.

Fred and George had been goofily dancing along with the music, hardly taking their eyes off of their embarrassed brother when Harry calls over to them.

"Oi!" Harry says, gesturing for Fred and George to come closer. They move in perfect unison and never take their eyes off Ron as they listen to Harry.

"You're never going to let him forget this are you?"

"Never," the twins say in synchronised perfection with identical smirks before leaning back slinking away to lean on the window as they had before.

"Everyone, come together!" Mcgonagall says from the centre of the room, finally pulling away from a bright red Ron to gesture everyone forward. The boys make no effort to move forward, clearly not wanting to participate whereas nearly all of the girls leap forward in excitement, waiting in a line to be picked.

Fred watches as Angelina drags you up, noticing that you had not leapt forward with the rest of the girls and he has to hide a snicker at seeing your disgruntled face, evidently not as keen to dance as your female classmates.

"Boys! On your feet!" Mcgonagall claps, getting the boys to also move forward. Neville stands first, followed by a few stragglers but no one moves forward until Fred steps out of line and whilst ignoring the looks from his twin and fellow Gryffindors, marches straight over to you.

"May I have this dance mi'lady?" He says dramatically with a bow of his head, extending his right hand to you.

"You may mi'lord," you laugh, placing your hand in his. He drags you over to the dance floor and places his hand on your waist just as he'd seen in the demonstration and with surprising precision, pulled you further away as he began spinning you. Your laugh echoed through the classroom even over the music as Fred span you around and around, completely ignoring the choreography until Mcgonagall shouted over and warned you both.

He seemed, for once, to heed the warning and pulled you closer into his chest then, placing his hand back onto your waist as he held you close, managing to quickly pick up the footwork that was needed for the waltz.

It was so intimate and romantic that you had to remind yourself frequently that this was Fred you were dancing with, knowing that he was out of bounds on account of your friendship with him and his siblings.You had to resist the urge to rest your head on his chest as you danced, enjoying the closeness as you half watched the rest of your house dancing around you.

"Do you have a date to the ball yet?" You hear Fred ask as he dances with you, hand resting on your lower back after lifting you in perfectly sync with the music.

"Not yet," you say, looking up to see him watching you with an intensity you couldn't place. "You?" You ask, temporarily breaking your eye contact as he clutched your waist, lifting you again and then taking your waist and your hand to spin you, just as the champions waltz demanded. He didn't verbally reply but instead shook his head with a frown before pulling you in closer and spinning you with more intensity which had you laughing again.

"Y/n," Fred says as he looks down at you, pausing his movements to speak but he's interrupted by Mcgonagall calling time on the dance class. She begins addressing the room of students on details of the ball and you all listen intently until she dismisses the class. When you turn back to Fred you notice he'd joined George and was already walking out the door, bag slung over his right shoulder. Angelina joined you, bringing you your bag as you said goodbye to Ginny and Hermione before walking to your next class together.

"You and Fred looked rather close," Angelina says as you place your bag onto your shoulder.

"He's my best friend Ange," you say, nudging her shoulder and rolling your eyes, pretending that you hadn't enjoyed it quite as much as you did.

"Has he asked you to the ball?" She says, not even flinching.

"No and I doubt he will," you say with a forced huff of a self-deprecating laugh.

"I hope George asks me," she says longingly as you turn the corner towards the charms classroom, instantly falling silent as you see the two brothers you'd been discussing already standing in the doorway to the classroom.

George looks over and smiles at you both, mainly Angelina as he beckons you over and you don't hesitate wiggling your eyebrows at her once he looked away, causing her to nudge you forcefully right back. You momentarily loose your balance from the unexpected nudge and as if on instinct, Fred's arms reach out to catch you.

"Falling for me princess?" He smirks, causing you to roll your eyes.

"You'd love that Weasley," you counter once you'd steadied yourself, seeing that George and Ange had already taken their seats.

"Ladies first," Fred says, opening his arms to gesture for you to go through the doorway first and you send him a sarcastic smile of gratitude before taking your seat next to Ang, in front of Fred.

Throughout the class you were desperately distracted, barely even listening or taking notes. thinking of your dance with Fred earlier and how he'd marched directly over to you ahead of all the other boys. You hoped that he was going to ask you to the ball, though you knew it would just be a pipe dream. Hopefully someone would ask you, even just as friends.

A piece of scrunched up parchment hits you square in the head, making you look round with a glare. Fred immediately smiles widely at you, if not a little sarcastically before he sends another note over to you with his wand, a little origami bird flying over your shoulder and onto the desk in front of you. Your eyebrows knit together in questioning as you look up at him again but he simply raises his eyebrows as if to say 'read it' and you turn and unfold the note delicately, shooting a quick look towards the professor to check that they weren't watching you.

'Black lake 7pm?"

You turned around, still looking confused but when you saw Fred watching you eagerly, you nodded with a little smile. He smiled back, winking at you before dropping his gaze back down to his work.

You secretly nudged Ang beside you and gestured with your eyes down to the little note, seeing her eyes bulge comically as she let out a little silent squeal of delight once she reads the note. She looks at you excitedly and wordlessly nods, as if thinking the same thing.

It's 6:50pm and you hadn't seen Fred or George at dinner which was unusual to say the least. Angelina and Harry had been there so it wasn't a Quidditch thing, which only confused you more. You made your way out of the castle utilising one of the secret passageways that you'd taken multiple times with the twins to avoid being seen, climbing around the statue of Gregory the smarmy and slipped down into the passage, walking the length of the little corridor until you could hear water rippling. You climbed up the little rocky steps and found yourself looking out at the Great Lake, beside the rocky cliffs that hid you from sight.

"Evening," you a voice called out from behind you, making you turn and frown. It was hard to see in just the moonlight with the shadows of the cliffs creating even more darkness, but you immediately sensed that something wasn't right. The person jumped down from where they had been perched on the rock and as they moved closer their long red hair and wooden jumper emblazoned with an 'F' came into focus.

"Hi, Fred," you said unconvincingly, looking at the bloke in front of you.

"Glad you could come gorgeous," he says, shifting to stand next to you. You couldn't help but observe him, looking at his features with subtle glances and questioning eyes.

"It's pretty out here tonight don't you think," he says with a shy smirk, though his eyes focus entirely on you as he speaks.

"Uh yeah, really pretty." He seems to briefly notice your lack of reply and casts a glance up at your eyes before looking away, focusing his attention on something to the right for just a moment.

"I've been thinking a lot about our dance earlier," he says shyly and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes now that it's all added up in your mind.

You gesture for him to move in closer, placing your hand on his shoulder as he leans down so that you could whisper in his ear.

"We didn't dance earlier," you say bluntly though with humour behind it, picking up a rock and trying to skim it on the water.

"Eh?" He asks, turning quickly to look up at your face in surprise, taken aback by his words.

"I danced with Fred earlier. Where is he anyway?" You ask quietly, raising your eyebrow at him, foiling his plan. He barks out a loud laugh at your discovery and you immediately see the performance drop from his body as he slinks down to his regular stance, once again being himself. He subtly nods his head to the right and your eyes light up in glee as you lean back over to him.

"Want to mess with him?" You ask with a suggestive wiggle of your eyebrows. George's eyes immediately light up as he nods, a smile tugging at his lips already.

"You know I've been thinking about our dance a lot too," you say flirtily and a little louder now, ensuring that whenever Fred was, he would hear you. You even lean over to touch George on the arm as you speak, your body language changing as you play heavily on the flirting.

"Oh really?" He says, playing along with a concealed smirk.

"Mmm," you hum, tracing your fingers up his arm with exaggerated movements so you knew that Fred would see them if he was watching. "I spent the whole dance really hoping you were going to kiss me," you said innocently and you immediately have to bite your lip as you and George share a little silent laugh.

"What a coincidence," he says, trying to sound like Fred, "I was thinking the same thing."

"Are you thinking about it now?" You ask, reaching to play with his collar, your voice seductive and airy as you pull out all the stops. "Maybe you could give me a demonstration of exactly what you were thinking about."

All of a sudden you hear a few loud shouts and a shuffle as another figure comes into view, quickly making their way down the rocky cliffs and running comically with waving arms, straight over to stand between you and George, who are both now in hysterics. Fred immediately notices the two of you laughing and freezes in confusion before realising that he'd been played.

"When did you figure it out?" He says, sounding aghast at you seeing through their little scheme.

"The second George said 'evening'," you chuckled, straightening back up and laughing again as Fred and George begin to squabble about who's fault it was.

"Anyway, have fun you two," George says with a wiggle of his eyebrows before walking down the steps to the concealed passage, leaving you and the real Fred alone.

"You know that doesn't work with me," you say, turning to him with a smirk on your face, seeing him already looking at you and shrugging with a playful grin. "Why did you swap?"

"Needed to know you could tell us apart," he says with a cheeky grin that makes you frown, silently questioning him. "Gonna need to know which one's your date to the ball aren't you. Can't have you dancing with the wrong bloke."

Your eyes immediately widen and a smile beams across your face as his words register with you. He chuckles, seeing your reaction before dramatically getting down on one knee as if he was proposing.

"Y/n, would you do me the honour of being my date to the Yule ball?" He asks seriously, holding out his hands as if he was presenting you with a ring. You giggle and let out a little squeal before lunging at him, knocking you both to the floor.

"I might be wrong but I think that was a yes," he chuckles.

"Yes! Yes you great oaf," you reply with a smile, feeling completely elated. His smile matches yours as he pulls you down onto him and suddenly there's a tension that falls between you both at the intimacy of the moment.

"Still thinking about that kiss?" He asks, a nervousness falling across his features that you had so rarely seen. You don't reply, at least not verbally and give a small, shy nod as you look at his lips in anticipation, thinking of nothing else.

Not a moment passes before he leans up, gently pulling you down until your lips meet, his soft lips pressing gently against yours. After just a few seconds, his hands hover over your waist before he seems to find the courage to hold you, placing his hands on your waist and hip as the kiss deepens, lips working completely in sync as you sink deeper and deeper into eachother.

You pull apart a little while later and both giggle shyly at what had just happened. Fred never takes his hands away from your waist, even as he gently manoeuvres you until you're lying down on him, head on his shoulder as you both look up at the star filled sky, a comfortable silence falling between you as you both replay the moment in your heads over and over again.

#emeritusemeritus #harry potter #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #yule ball #goblet of fire

[unfinishedslurs]

fwb to lovers (steddie)

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says. “I can do casual sex. I’m great at casual sex. Friends with benefits will be a breeze.”

“You’re full of shit,” Robin says flatly. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t do friends with benefits, Steve,” Eddie cringes from his hiding spot behind a shelf, like a criminal who’s been doing friends with benefits with Steve. “You fall in love with every age-appropriate friend you have. Add chemistry and compatibility to that mix, and you’re toast. Might as well slather you in butter and jam, that’s how toasted you are.”

“I don’t fall in love with all my friends,” Steve protests weakly.

Robin holds up a finger. “Nancy,” she starts.

“That doesn’t count! We weren’t friends until after we dated.”

She ignores him, putting up another finger. “Jonathan.”

Eddie frowns at that, mentally going back and pulling up every memory he has of Jonathan and Steve interacting. The jokes that Steve threw his head back to laugh at, the flush on his cheeks. It makes sense, and Eddie doesn’t like it. 

Then he realizes how ridiculous that is. He’s the one sleeping with Steve, a feat he’s fairly sure Jonathan hasn’t accomplished. Jonathan doesn’t know the sounds Steve makes when he comes, or how amazing Steve looks on his knees. Eddie smugly puts his jealousy to the side in favor of listening in. 

Steve has turned a bright red. “You can’t—”

“Me.”

He gives up trying to stop her, putting his head on the counter in shame.

“Plus Eddie,” she finishes, raising a fourth finger and waving it at him. Eddie nearly falls over with surprise. Sure, the whole conversation had been gearing up to it, but he wasn’t expecting an actual confirmation. Steve doesn’t even argue. “Four for four, Steve. Not including Tommy, Carol, the Tommy and Carol incident, or the time you made out with Argyle, which actually makes seven. Do I need to keep going?”

Woah, woah, woah, what? Here he is being jealous of Jonathan when fucking Argyle is the one he needs to watch out for. Eddie briefly wonders if he can get away with putting hair remover in his shampoo or some shit. Weed out the competition. 

No, that’s too far. 

He also wants to hear more about this Tommy and Carol incident. 

Robin is still waiting for a reply, eyebrow raised. 

“No,” Steve mutters into the counter.

“That’s what I thought.” She hops up on the counter, lightly tugging his hair to get him to look at her. “I just listed all your friends who aren’t toddlers, so which of them is it? Fair warning, if it’s Jonathan I’ll just kill you to put you out of your misery.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with Jonathan?” Steve asks, afronted. Maybe Eddie should be jealous.

“Nothing! Except the part where he’s your ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend. Even if they are in the middle of the world’s most awkward slow-burn breakup, that’s not the Dingus I know.”

“Are they really?” Steve asks, apparently oblivious to something even Eddie could see from outer space. “Doesn’t matter, it’s not Jonathan. It’s…it’s Eddie.”

“Eddie,” she echoes, entirely unsurprised. “Steve, you know I hate to be the voice of reason, but that is a remarkably bad idea. Like, Jesus, that’s rough.”

Ouch. He thought Robin liked him. 

Steve smirks. “So is he.”

“Ew.” Robin throws a VHS case at him. 

“Ow! Hey!”

“Dingus! Why is your brain so nasty all the time?”

“Oh, like yours is so pure. I can see your rent history, Buckley. How many times have you watched Fast Times this week?”

They’re off, bickering like the world's worst comedy duo, and Eddie has to stifle his laughter into his hand. Jesus, but they could go on television with this shit. Buckley is a master at coming up with insults. 

Finally, they wind down, and Robin leans against Steve. “You know this is gonna break your heart, right?” She asks quietly, sadly. Eddie busies himself with studying the back of whatever movie is in front of him, pretending he’s not straining to catch every second of this conversation. 

“I know,” Steve answers. Eddie’s heart skips a beat. “Worth it, though.”

“Is it?”

His laugh is hollow. “I guess we’ll see.”

The thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to break Steve’s heart. He wants to hold it in his hands, feel along the steadily-beating shape of it, learn all the things that make it tick. Wrap it in bubble wrap, store it away in his own chest so that no one else can get to it. Keep it safe. 

There’s just one problem with that. 

Eddie’s never been on a date in his life. 

Everyone knows Steve is a romantic. He’s the kind of guy who’ll buy flowers for a date, chocolates for Valentine’s Day, take you to the movie theater and make out in the back. All the classics. Eddie’s version of romance so far has been sacrificing himself to the wet spot so Steve wouldn’t have to deal with it. 

If he’s going to date Steve, he wants to do it properly. Which, okay, they can’t really risk necking in a theater, and they’d have to be careful at a diner, and Lover’s Lake is out for obvious reasons, and—

Jesus, dating as a queer is fucking hard. He hasn’t even been on one yet, and he’s exhausted thinking about all the hoops they’ll have to jump through. Maybe they could just get takeout and a movie, like they always do.  

No. No. He just said he was going to be romantic, dammit!

What is romance, anyway? Really it’s just a false sense of meaning attributed to certain gestures instead of others. In a different universe, ding-dong ditching burning dog shit on someone’s porch is probably a declaration of intent. 

Hmm. 

No! 

Okay, romance. He can do romance. After all, he wrote the greatest love story of all time. Between Sir Severus the knight and the great bard Edith the Magnificent. 

He’s never claimed to be subtle. 

He stares down at his notebook, page empty and mocking. He’s going to need some help. 

With a huff and a dirty look at the notebook, he heaves himself out of bed. Stalks through the hallway so he can punch a number in the phone with more than a little vehemence. 

“Wheeler? Yeah, it’s Eddie. Can you put your sister on?”

“Romance,” Nancy repeats, brow furrowed. “You’ve been sleeping with Steve, and now you want to romance him.”

“Yep.”

“And you came to me and not Robin because…”

“She can’t keep a secret from Steve. C’mon, Wheeler, you know this.”

She purses her lips in a way that he knows means she agrees with him. “You know,” she says, “As someone who did date Steve, I think he would just be happy to be with you. You could be doing anything, and it would be amazing to him because you were there.”

Eddie stares at her. “That’s such a cop out.” 

Her face instantly goes from sweet to annoyed beyond comprehension. It’s his favorite expression of hers. He makes sure to bring it out often. 

Eddie puts a single rose on Steve’s nightstand. Yellow, like his favorite color. There, he thinks proudly, declaration of intent. 

Nancy is less than impressed when he tells her. 

“What’s the problem?” He asks, affronted. “It’s a fucking rose! In his favorite color! There’s no way to misinterpret that!”

“Did you even read the pages I copied for you?”

“I started to, but then I remembered that yellow roses exist. He looks really good in yellow, and it’s his favorite color, so he’d probably appreciate a yellow rose. See? Romantic.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before pulling the book off her nightstand and flipping through the pages. He doesn’t get what the big deal is, he thinks his idea was pretty fucking swell, actually. He tells her so. 

The answering look she gives him could level a city. 

“It’s a nice idea,” she tells him. “The sentiment is right. It would be perfect if his favorite color was anything else.”

“What’s wrong with yellow?”

She purses her mouth and shows him the book, open to roses and their color meanings. 

“Son of a bitch!”

Friendship roses. Fucking friendship roses. Most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

#fwb to lovers au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #i just think nancy and eddie would have the kind of friendship where they're super close but also so sososososo catty #either to each other or other people. judgemental besties #rip eddie you try to tell a guy you're in love with him and you accidentally friendzone him even more #stranger things fanfic

[eclecticqueennerd]

Soldier Boy as a Girl Dad

Ben was elated when he learned he was going to be a dad. He saw it as a chance to have something he never got when he was a kid. He was disappointed to learn that you were having a girl, but once you gave birth man oh man did his worldview change drastically.

Ben’s view was the woman to stays in the home and pumps out babies while the man goes to work and brings home the bacon. Ben was always a misogynistic ass, less so with you, but now he was just an ass. He did not want his daughter to grow up in a world where she was only treated as a Broodmare. No, he wanted her to rule the world.

Early on he taught his daughter how to fight and protect herself from bullies, which would occur due to her dad being a supe. You’d often tell Ben to stop, “Ben, we have to talk to the teachers and let them handle it.” “Oh, come on y/n, you know how they handle bullying there. No daughter of mine is going to be a damsel in distress.” It wasn’t until you got a call from the elementary school principal saying that your 6-year-old daughter punched her bully at school. You went to get your daughter from the principals’ office and as you left with your daughter and Ben in tow, you heard him say, “Show me where you punched him.” Out of the corner of your eye you’d see your daughter make a fist and place it on Ben’s chin. Ben let out a loud chuckle, “Atta girl.”

Pre-Teen years were awful. Your daughter became less of a daddy’s girl and more of a bratty teenager. Whenever Ben would try to connect with her, he was always met with attitude, eye rolls with constant saying of ‘that’s so lame’. You’d back Ben up by telling your daughter to snap out of it, but was met with hostility, “What are you going to do about it mom? You’re just a normie.” By this time her powers were developing, and strength was one of the first skills. It wasn’t until Ben had to save her from a supe terrorist, who fucked with the wrong dad, that her attitude towards the two of you changed.

Teen years your daughter became more mellow and hung out with the two of you more. Ben even taught her how to spar and use her powers appropriately. He’d teach her how to drive and how to do her math homework. “What do you mean they want you to do it that way, my way is easier.” “It’s called Common Core math dad. Everyone has to learn it.” Every time Ben helped her with math, he’d become frustrated and soft glowing would emit from his chest. You quickly found a tutor for your daughter, as we don’t need another explosion like Moscow happening again.

When it came to your daughter’s first date, Ben almost blew a gasket. “We should talk to her about safe sex.” “SAFE SEX?!” “Yes Ben. Teenagers have sex and we need to prepare her and make sure she understands that protection is important.” Suffice to say you handled that conversation. When the boy came over to pick your daughter up, he made the poor mistake of cracking a joke, “We’ll sir I’m surprised you’re not sitting there cleaning a gun with how your daughter talks about you.” “Son, I don’t need a gun to kill you.” Ben scared that poor boy off after the first date.

When your daughter left for college, Ben was trying his best to keep his shit together. Watching her car drive down the road you ask, “Was it everything you were hoping it would be?” Ben chuckles, pulls you close, and wipes a tear trailing down his cheek. He said, “Better than what I could have hoped for.”

#the boys #the boys amazon #billy butcher x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles #billy butcher #frenchie #karl urban #mothers milk #kimiko the boys #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys season 3

[hightwers]

TEACHER'S PET ─── ANAKIN SKYWALKER

summary: anakin skywalker, sorry the teacher's aide anakin skywalker. teachers and students aren't supposed to be this close, right? it's a bad idea, right?

warnings: smut, gaslighting, coercion and manipulation. themes of student/teacher relationships are present. mdni, 16+. fem reader, usage of the word cunt, cock, pussy, etc. talking you through an orgasm.

Everyone knew Mr. Skywalker; he was the young teacher's aide. He was fairly young, couldn't have been more than 23.

And he was kind, charismatic, and helpful. He was often seen helping other students during office hours, staying late to grade and correct assignments.

It was said that he had a favorite student, but that's neither here nor there.

It was the first time she had failed a test. A big one. Fuck. This was avoidable had she actually taken the time to study.

And she didn't. Instead she decided to fuck around and get drunk with several people from her class. To be fair, it had been fun in the moment.

And much to her dismay, Mr Skywalker had asked her to stay after class.

Not wanting to leave anyone hanging, she did.

"Hey! I didn't think you'd stay! Cool, as you know Matt didn't stay today, sorry about that, it really should be him talking to you about your exam," he apologizes profusely as if that makes the situation better.

She sits there, quiet, and nodding along. "No, I mean its fine, you're his aide, you know just as much as he does,"

"Right, right, right," he says with a laugh. "So, what's up? You never score anything lower than a 94, and this time you have a 37, what happened?"

Ah there's the question. "And I understand that things happen, but are you okay? Everything okay at home? Was the material too difficult?"

She shakes her head. "No, I just... Long weekend, didn't prepare enough,"

He nods in understanding. "Well, you are young, so," he laughs understandingly. "We'll give you a retest, just come back in a week. Study the material, if you can't understand it, come find me and we'll work on it together, yeah?"

She nods. "Thank you Mr Skywalker," she replied with a slight smile.

"Anakin, we're not in class at the moment," he corrected.

Her smile widened. "No, I suppose we're not," she agrees, her fingers intertwine with her own.

"You know, you don't have to take the retest, there's. . . something else you could do," he offers hesitantly.

She perks up. "What's that?"

His eyes glimmer with excitement and he presses his lips together. "Oh, its uh nothing, nevermind,"

She deflated just a little. "Aw, what's the matter? It's not like you need a friend, right?"

He shifts uncomfortably in a chair. "Uh no, but really, its fine,"

She moved closer to him and leans over his desk. "Why? Its not like I'm gonna beg to suck you off," she joked. "Unless you ask me to,"

His eyes glimmer. "I'm not sure that's an appropriate. . . suggestion," he whispers. "But. . ."

She rises from her chair. "But?" she asked, leaning against the desk, sitting on the edge.

He glanced at her. "If. . . " he begins and shakes his head. "No, its not right," he muttered to himself.

She glanced at him. "I'll do anything," she whispers. "I swear, please,"

He shakes his head. "Morally its just not right," he says. "You understand, right?"

"Mr Skywalker," she pleads. "I'll do anything,"

His lips quirk at her comment. "Anything?" he asked.

She nodded.

"On your knees, sweet girl," he whispers and his eyes flicker with excitement as she does. "You have to be quiet sweet girl," he whispers.

The pet name fills her with a warm feeling, it courses through her as she kneels in front of him, her hands reach for the buckle on his pants and he swats her hand away. "Patience is a virtue, Darling," he whispers.

She moved closer to him, carefully unbuckling his pants and belt, tugging his pants down slightly, and leaving him in his boxers.

There's a tent in his pants, aroused to the point of wincing when her fingers brush him through the thin cloth. "God," he moans softly.

She's pleased with the reaction and her hand slides into the briefs, her fingers rubbing at the slit on the head of his cock, causing a soft and low moan to escape his lips.

A part of her knows that she needs to stop, that she needs to draw a line but the other part of her knows that she'll never have this opportunity again.

Her hands make the motion to tug the boxers down, leaving him standing at attention and then it hits her. "I should stop," she whispers.

He shakes his head. "No, please, don't stop," he begged softly. "We don't have to talk after, you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to,"

She looks at him, he looks desperate and he's shaking from all the feelings stirring within him; she falls to her knees again and pressed a kiss to his tip, swirling her tongue around him.

Her mouth engulfs him, her hand working whatever doesn't fit in her mouth. She allows herself a small laugh as his fingers tangled in her hair, grasping and tugging at it as he raked his fingers through her scalp. "Please," he pleads.

She groans around his cock as he begins to thrust himself into her throat, she controls his pace with her hand and head. She can tell that Anakin was trying to keep his moans and groans to himself as she rakes her teeth along his cock. His sharp intake of breath spears through her like a jolt of electricity down her spine and throughout her body as she licks the bead of his salty seed.

Anakin makes the mistake of looking down, her eyes were on him as she works his length with one hand, her full lips wrapped around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling around him and he nearly whimpered from the sensation.

She enjoys watching him in this desperate state. He's basically whimpering for her at this point and the minute its all over, with his seed dripping from the corner of her lips, she pulled away from him, her throat raw and abused from how his shaft forced itself down her throat.

He's begging her to keep this a secret, begging her to never speak of it again.

She won't, but she'll never forget how he begged her to, and how he promised her that she'd never speak to him again.

It was a one time thing, just to get her grade up, right...?

authors note: part two? let me know!! this was also... taking me forever to write. this originally started as a concept on tiktok because of @ioveanakin's edit.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #saia's library. #saia's thirsty thots. #hayden christensen smut. #saia writes things. #saia's anakin.

[malum-forev]

Oooh can I get some fake-dating?? Either fratboy or mafia Bucky? Like they come to her rescue and pretend she's with them, saving her from some unfortunate situation!

Hi hiii this is my first time writing Mafia Bucky! Let me know what you think!

 You hated the term man’s game. Absolutely loathed it. Men with their pea sized brains thinking they’re above people of the opposite sex, when in reality the only thing floating around their heads are the words dick, tits, ass. On an infinite loop. 

When you went into the field of law, you thought with hard work and perseverance you would crash the glass ceiling. Paving the road for women like yourself wanting to make it. What you didn’t realize is that what is supposed to be glass, turns out to be concrete. A miles thick concrete ceiling, completely impenetrable. 

You smoothed the fabric of your pencil skirt and impatiently tapped your foot on the floor. The wooden chair outside the DA’s office was becoming an annoying reminder of your future, bolted down outside the door. It felt like you’d always be outside the door.

The frosted glass door opened revealing laughter coming from the inside. Your boss’ booming fake laugh made your skin crawl.

“You better work on that swing by Friday, Kent.” Your senile old boss said. It should be illegal to have fossils like him still on the job, making decisions while they still think women can’t vote. “I’ll leave you with my assistant, she’ll get all the details about the Moranes case.”

“Paralegal.” You corrected even though you knew it would go in one ear and out the other. 

The district attorney, a man older than your father, raked your body. From your pointed heels to your appropriately buttoned silk blouse. “Where have you been hiding this one?”

He all but drooled at the sight of you, a disgusting trait men thought was a compliment. 

“I keep her holed up at the office, but I’ll let you have her if you send the case over to us.” Your boss “joked” but once he saw the stern look on your face he held his hands up. “I’m just foolin’ around. Can’t make a joke anymore without getting a slap on the wrist from HR.”

“I know a few things about that.” The DA laughed, pointing at his older secretary. “How’d you think I got stuck with this one?”

The interaction made your skin boil, there were actual men who thought women’s only purpose in life was to get them hard. And you, sadly, had to put up with it on a daily basis. 

Your boss soon left, hoping you would comply with anything the DA told you to do. Anything to get the job done, was his mentality. 

“How about we move this conversation somewhere more comfortable?” The DA’s sleazy smile sent a shiver through your spine.

You looked around the almost abandoned hallway. “I just need to take some notes on the file so, here is fine.”

The district attorney was quickly becoming annoyed. “I wasn’t asking, actually.”

You opened your mouth to try and keep him calm but you felt a hand travel through your lower back and set itself on your hip. You looked down to find a tattooed hand with gold and silver rings adorning the fingers. His knuckles were shades of pink, purple, and blue, sporting a couple of barely healed gashes. If someone were to ask you who you thought this person was, you’d never in a thousand years guessed the correct answer.

“She wasn’t asking either, Kent.” A deep rough voice appeared.

You looked up to find the one and only James Bucky Barnes, head of one of the most prolific and notorious mafia families in New York. 

“B-Barnes.” The DA stuttered. 

“I’m sure you can find a way to make my girlfriend’s life easier.” Bucky stared the man down, his dark blue eyes burning holes through his body. 

“Girlfriend?” He asked, scared. 

“Girlfriend.” Bucky barked. 

The DA gulped. “I’ll have my assistant send her office the files.”

“I’d appreciate if you drop them by yourself.” Bucky lip twitched upwards. “As a personal favor to me and the ladies down at the Spin Top.”

The district attorney furiously nodded, his eyes widening at the words spoken. Bucky was dangling incriminating information like it was no big deal.

Bucky pulled you closer to his side, his hand never leaving your hip. A gentle but firm grip. He waved his gloved hand in a shooing motion. “You can leave now Kent.”

The district attorney tripped over his feet and quickly closed his office door behind him, locking it. 

With a chuckle, Bucky released you. He took a cigarette from his suit’s breast pocket and lit it up.

“He thinks a door can protect him.” Bucky scoffed. “Pathetic.”

“You’re not allowed to smoke in here.” You said, your voice strong.

Bucky bit his bottom lip to contain a smile, you were pure fire.

He looked around the almost vacant office, any person who was there had already turned around. Some were even facing the wall, anything to not make eye contact with the mob boss. “I don’t see anyone telling me to put it out, princess.”

“I’m not some sort of damsel in distress, just so you know.” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

Bucky’s eyes never left yours, he cocked his head to the side. “This could work, you and me-“

You laughed. “You and me? There is no you and me, it doesn’t exist.”

Bucky walked towards you until your back was flush against the wall, he placed his forearm over your head, trapping you underneath him. His intoxicating smell filled your senses, woody, smokey, citrus. A combination that wouldn’t work on anyone but him. 

“By the looks of it, you need someone next to you so they take you seriously.” His words were slow and controlled, completely opposite to your body language. Your chest heaved, making the space between the buttons over your chest expand. Anyone else would have looked down but Bucky, he kept his eyes on your face. “I can be that for you. One outing with me and you’ll have every judge, every lawyer, everyone at the palm of your hand.”

“What’s in it for you?” You whispered, your throat suddenly became dry. 

For the first time, he let his eyes travel downwards to your lips. A calloused finger ran from your collarbone to your jaw. “I need someone sweet and innocent, just like you, to help me take over everything. You see, every family needs a head. And there is no head without a neck. But no one seemed to interest me, that is, until I laid my eyes on you.” 

“It would have to be for show, everything would be fake.” You whispered, closing your eyes for a moment to bask the sensation of Bucky hand on your neck. 

Bucky chuckled. “I’ll put on the greatest show, I’ll even have you believing my every word.” 

Pleaaaseee be sure to comment, like and reblog if you enjoyed it! Remember, one comment = one kiss on my forehead! <3

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour

#bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes os #college au #college au!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #sebastian stan x you #marvel fanfic

[linkemon]

Period headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

Ruggie Bucchi

• Ruggie wouldn't be surprised by the period in the first place. If there are guys for whom this is a taboo topic, he wouldn't be one of them. He saw so many things on the streets as a child that neither pain nor blood scares him. He would also have no problem talking about it loudly. It's just a normal thing.

• He would definitely be a master of home remedies during your period. His years of odd jobs and all kinds of life knowledge would be invaluable in this matter. He would brew you homemade teas to help with the pain. All herbs are collected and dried by hand by him.

• While he is invaluable when it comes to home-made medicines, when you feel like snacking, he can be a miser. Cookies, chocolates, chips at Sam's? He's always short of money. But don't worry, if you really want some, he will somehow get money from Leona. Will you know about it? Not necessarily...

• Ruggie tolerates mood swings very well. Not only did he undergo training while working for Leona but he also got used to the fact that a woman is right, even when she isn't. In Savanaclaw, they lead in most relationships and thus he will tolerate any moodiness you may have.

Ortho Shroud

•A prefect in need? Ortho noticed it first! Before he downloaded the exact module, he thought you were seriously ill. He was very concerned about your health. Only when he downloaded the appropriate data did he understand what was going on.

• You can be sure that his information will be verified and supported by scientific evidence. He and Idia have access to data that an ordinary mortal will probably never even see. Therefore, expect a slightly medical approach to the topic.

• You will be scanned frequently unless you specifically do not want it. But let's be honest, these won't be just ordinary scans. You will get full information about what hurts you, where exactly and what is the best way to deal with it, so it sounds like a good deal.

• Ortho believes you should get plenty of rest. A warm water bottle, a blanket and off to bed! He will ask Grim to stay with you and not make a fuss, which surprisingly the cat will do (you don't know that there is a promise about can of tuna behind it).

• He will get you some medicines from the school nurse if you don't feel up to going to get them. Same with snacks and pads or tampons. Where does the money come from? He belongs to the Styx, one word and Crowley will generously create a new fund for your needs, which you won't find out about until long after the fact.

• You will receive a personalized cycle tracking app. Idia was allegedly bored. In reality, however, his hair was red the entire time he was creating it and he explained to his brother that he was only doing it at his request.

Jade Leech

• Menstruation is not a foreign concept to him. The point is more that Jade, like his brother, knows it from theory. Everything looks different under water and he never had to face this problem with his mother, for example. But there's no need to worry. Years in business have accustomed him to learning new things quickly.

• If you like specific foods, whether before or during your period, Jade's has you covered. Mostro Lounge has a wide range of products and if you want something specific, he will simply cook it for you. It's best if it contains mushrooms but if you don't want them, it's fine...

• As with Ortho, there is no problem with money. He is a good businessman. What was the point of doing any business with Azul if he didn't make money?

He knows your dorm doesn't have enough money. He often jokes with a serious face that you will work it off later but in the end it never happens. In the worst case scenario, he will ask for a kiss on the cheek in exchange for help.

• You can be sure that at the first opportunity he will do some off-campus mega business related to hygiene products. There aren't many people interested in the NRC but outside? He can take over the world and give you free samples. He will ask you for advice and opinions. Guaranteed that at the end of the process you will come up with a new formula or scents. You are happy and he is rich. Two in one.

• He is not open enough to talk about period in front of others, like Ruggie. He won't shy away from it but he just has a little bit more tact and won't talk about it until the conversation clearly stirs that way.

#ruggie bucci x reader #ortho shroud #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #headcanons #period #black chariot #idia shroud #dire crowley

[fictionalgap]

Steal My Heart

(chapter 3)

Pairing: Kit Thantalos x Thief! Reader

Summary: Your first weeks of being Princess's personal guard.

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Song Recommendation: Oh to Be in Love - Kate Bush

You were sittting in front of the Queen of Tir Asleen and it was really hard to not to be nervous. Especially after you have just met her daughter. The princess was something else... Fierce, extremely pretty and caring. You liked that she didn't dressed in gowns like other princesses. She looked really cool and badass like that. Even when she was on the grass and bit by a snake.

"So what kind of things you were engaged with? Don't bother to lie though. I can tell."

You didn't want to lie to your future mother in l-, the Queen. So you told her every criminal activity you did which include lots of theft.

"That's all?" she questioned with a raised brow.

"Yes, your majesty."

She sighed. "Okay. You are free to go. You are not under charge of anything."

"Really?"

"Really." she nodded, keeping her gaze on you.

"Unless, you want a job." she added.

Your mouth hang open. "A-a job?"

"Of course no more theft. Especially in this castle. It won't be tolerated and you would be banished from Tir Asleen."

You gulped. 'What kind of a job is this, your majesty?'

"My daughter, the Princess used to have a personal guard. She left to train with other guards somewhere far away. I want you to be her new personal guard."

You were out of words. 'New personal guard of the Princess…'

"Your majesty, I am honored by your offer. It's just I don't know anything about being a guard. There are people more capable than me here. Why me?"

Queen smiled at you knowingly. "I have lots of guards here. She doesn't want them. I have this feeling she would make an exception this time. But that's not the exact reason at all. You saved her before knowing she was a princess. You saw a girl bit by a snake. "

"Anyone would do-"

"They wouldn't and you saw enough things to know that. For the capable part, Kit wants to train all the time. Also, I have lots of capable guards and knights you can train in this castle so that'll cover that. You're already familiar with necessary stuff as much as our healers told what they found in your pockets." You smiled and looked down at your feet. You couldn't feel your knives on you. They probably put it somewhere else.

"What I need for her isn't capable. It's resilience. You saved her when your condition was not appropriate at all and when you were running away from going to court. You threw that all away to help. That's what I need from you for my daughter. "

You fiddled with your fingers.

"Why do you trust me? I am a thief."

"That's a good enough offer not to ruin. I trust that."

You nodded. More than good enough. Spending time with princess and training all day, only to protect her when required. That was more like a prize.

"Does the Princess know? About the job?"

The queen eyed to something behind you and you looked at you back to see the Princess smiling nervously.

"I wanted to be here so that she wouldn't scold you." she joked and the Queen rolled her eyes.

You sighed nervously.

"My mum insists for me to have a personal guard so If anyone is going to be that It should be you." she stared at you for a while.

You felt your breath stuck in your throat. You tried to make yourself remember how to breathe under her gaze.

"So, what do you say?" Kit asked, her hands were at her back.

"Yes." your smile met your eyes.

Queen and the Princess shared a pleased look.

~~~

Weeks passed. Kit and you were like best friends. She didn't want you to treat her any differently. You had lots of fun with her. You trained almost everyday whether it was with Kit or any guards within the castle. You had to train with others when she was doing her 'Princess' duties. You liked training though. It made you feel strong, less vulnerable, like you weren't totally helpless.

The first time they payed you, you sent it to your mother with a letter through a messenger.

' I got a job at the castle as Princess's personal guard. This is my first pay. I won't do theft anymore. Something happened and now I'm not charged with anything. I am fine.

How are you holding up? I will visit you as soon as it is possible.

Y/N '

She sent a letter back to you.

"I'm good. Don't worry. We live with Marlene and her kids together. We help each other. Thank you for the money. You don't have to sent all of it. I don't know If they will let Princess's personal guard to leave her alone to visit her mum but If they will, you know where to find me. I really would like to hear what happened. I hope you're okay. I know your father had different opinions but I'm glad you found a proper job. It's not easy to live as a thief.

Take care of yourself.

Your mum. '

You put the letter in your pocket and walked to the Princess's bedroom. The door opened and you faced with Princess's personal maid. She smiled at you which you returned immediately. After she left you entered Kit's bedroom. "Your highness?" you called. The room looked empty.

"How many times am I going to have to tell you. It's Kit." an amused voice came behind you. You felt her breath at the back of your ear.

Somehow she always end up coming from your behind. Too sneaky for a princess.

You turned to her. "You scared me." you smiled genuinely.

She tilted her head to the side with a sly smile. "Aren't thieves supposed to be cautious of their surroundings?" she started to draw circles around you like a shark coming for its prey. You felt nervous. 'What the hell she was doing?' you thought to yourself.

Your gaze followed hers. "They usually are. I just didn't know I should be cautious of you and in your bedroom. " You tried to hide your amusement and crossed your arms.

She bit her pink lip and looked at her feet.

"I have a reputation for being spontaneous. You never know what's coming when it's me, Y/N. I don't even know." she said as she circled around you.

You chuckled and released your arms.

"Okay, we' re going." she pulled your hand quickly and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

"Wait- where?" you tried to get her attention for her to explain which she ignored, smiling.

"You'll see! " she said cheerfully.

Taglist: @valenftcrush @elliewilliamsgf69 @hayatistirahati @rubycruzsbitch @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes

#ruby cruz #willow 2022 #sapphic #lgbtq #kit thantalos x reader #kit tanthalos #willow the series #savewillow #save willow #willow series #willow fanfic #willow #sapphic fanfic #wlw fanfic #wlw #lgbtq fanfiction #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x reader

[corroded-hellfire]

You Belong With Me - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: modern!au. Eddie is dating Chrissy, but she’s making him miserable. What would it take for him to notice that he’d be better off with you? Based on the Taylor Swift song.

Note: Oh, so many thoughts about this one. I’ve never been a big fan of song fics, but this song just screamed this dynamic at me and wouldn’t let me rest until I wrote it. And it physically hurt me to write Chrissy as the “bad guy” because I just adore her and Grace so much. But for the fic, it had to be done. Lastly, I literally stayed up all night to write this so I apologize if my sleeplessness caused any more errors than usual.

Warnings: modern!au, language, sex jokes, mention of gun, I think that’s it?

Words: 8.7k

“But that’s not what I meant. No, no, I- Babe, it was a joke. It wasn’t about you! You know I don’t like basketball game- Yes, I’m coming. Of course. I’m sorry, okay? Like I said, it was a joke- Okay. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you there. Okay. Bye.”

Eddie tosses his phone down on your bed and rubs his hands over his face. You sit up near your pillows, wincing through the whole phone call. Eddie getting frustrated like this was becoming far too common for your liking.

“You okay, Eds?” He isn’t, but you’re not sure if he’ll want to talk about it or not.

“Fine,” he says. He has to know you don’t believe him, but he also knows you won’t push him. He climbs on your bed, leaning against your footboard.

“I made a stupid joke,” he says. “I said something about watching a basketball game being like watching a goldfish swim around in its bowl. You’re just looking back and forth at the same thing the whole time!”

It’s not the appropriate time, but you can’t help but laugh. “It’s true, though.”

“Thank you!” he says. “It was a dumb joke but somehow Chrissy took that as me saying I hated going to see her cheer. Is it my favorite thing to do? No. But I do it because she’s my girlfriend.”

You nod your head at him, not sure what you could say. There are a million things you want to say. Break up with her. She’s not good enough for you. I’ve been in love with you for years, you doofus. But none of that would help him. It’d only stress him out even more, which was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I swear, the only saving grace at those God-awful games is that you’re there with me. If I didn’t have you to make snide comments with, I don’t think I’d be able to stomach it,” he says.

It should make you feel better, you think. But in reality, it just makes you want to smack him on the back of the head and say, “then what does that tell you, dumbass? Spending time with me is better!”

“We’re going to the game tonight, I’m assuming,” you say. It’s a Tuesday so there wasn’t a Hellfire meeting, which was the only acceptable reason, according to Chrissy, that Eddie could miss a game. Even those, she wasn’t thrilled he skipped games for.

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Eddie mumbles, picking at his rings. He looks up and meets your eyes. “I mean, you do, though. You don’t have to come with me.”

And make him do this alone? You couldn’t. Even if you had to sit there and pretend not to see Eddie watching Chrissy, or just pretend to not see Chrissy in general. It was never a choice for you if there was an opportunity to spend it with Eddie. You’d stand blindly by his side, supporting him however you could.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” you tell him.

He smiles and tosses one of your stuffed bears at you. “Like I’d ever want to get rid of you.”

Looking into his eyes suddenly makes you feel like you could cry, so you jump off your bed and head over to your Bluetooth speaker.

“What do you say? Some Ozzy?” you ask.

Eddie groans and drops his head forward. “God, I wish I could stay and listen. I’ve got two deals before the game tonight, though. I’ve gotta head out.”

You pout and press play on the machine anyway. Ozzy Osborne was not what was queued up next, however. The acoustics of a Taylor Swift song start to play into the space of your bedroom.

Eddie groans again, louder this time. You stop the music and start to skip through the shuffled playlist.

“I am so tired of pop songs. It seems like that’s all that’s playing in my car lately and it’s driving me up the wall. I can listen to it sometimes, but God forbid we listen to any of my music as I’m driving around with her.”

Your pout grows as you keep your back to Eddie. You never know what to say to him when he complains about Chrissy. He wanted to date her so badly that you didn’t think anything could hurt you worse. But seeing the way she treats him? That beat all.

“I thought you didn’t even like Taylor Swift,” Eddie says. It just shows how much Chrissy must be making him listen to pop if he recognized the song by the opening chords.

“I like some of her songs,” you say, turning to face him. “Sometimes it feels like she took a page out of my diary and wrote a song about it. I love Metallica and Black Sabbath dearly, but that is something they just don’t do.”

Eddie stands up off your bed and grabs his leather jacket. He smirks at you as he slips it on. “So, what you’re saying is, Taylor Swift understands you?”

You roll your eyes at him and plop back down on your bed. “Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I’m saying. The pretty, millionaire singer, that’s dated all of the hottest guys in Hollywood totally gets me.”

“You sing,” Eddie says with a shrug. “In fact, I wish you did it more. How many times have I begged you to come sing with the band again?”

“It was once, I was drunk, and I’m still grateful that I don’t remember all of it,” you say.

“You were good. I’m not just saying that as your best friend, I’m saying it as a musician. You never sing around me. Why are you embarrassed to?”

The teddy bear in your lap is easier to look at than Eddie. “M’not embarrassed.”

“Oh yeah? Then why not in front of me at least? You’ve seen me puking my guts out and have taken care of me after a hangover, but you’re too shy to sing in front of me?”

“To be fair,” you say, eyes now finding Eddie’s, “you have also seen me puke and taken care of me when I had a hangover.”

“Yet I still sing in front of you.” When you don’t say anything, Eddie starts to get annoyed. “You know, I told Dustin that I wished you’d sing more, and he seemed confused because apparently you sing all the time around him.”

“That’s different!”

“How?” Now he sounds like he’s starting to get mad and it’s the last thing you want. Chrissy had already worked him up and you didn’t want to make it worse.

“You know, Dustin is always singing songs from movies and stuff. You’ve seen him and I singing Suddenly, Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors together. See? I’m not embarrassed in front of you.”

“Yeah, but you were also putting on that squeaky voice the woman has in the movie.” He sighs and takes a few steps towards your bed. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just like it when you sing.”

You look up at him and give him a small smile. “I like when you sing, too.”

“We’ll go to a karaoke club soon then,” he says with a smirk, and you’re not sure if he’s teasing or not. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll come by in a few hours to pick you up?”

“Mhmm.” He heads out of your room, but you call out for him before he can fully leave. “Eddie! Can you hit play for me? I think I got the right song up now.”

Eddie clicks the button on your Bluetooth speaker and Crazy Train starts playing, Ozzy’s maniacal laugh haunting your bedroom.

“Much better,” Eddie says over his shoulder as he walks out of your room.

After dinner with your parents, you head back up to your room. Your mom and dad assume it’s to finish your homework, but you’d finished that a little after Eddie left. Instead, you pull up your metal-only playlist and let it run on shuffle. The synthetic voice comes over your Bluetooth speaker.

“I am iron man.”

This song instantly has you reaching to turn the volume up. Black Sabbath’s iconic sound rings through your room and you jump on top of your bed. You head-bang to the opening notes, feeling more pumped up by the second. You spin around, scooping up your hairbrush from your nightstand to use as a makeshift microphone.

“Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk at all? Or if he moves, will he fall?”

You fall to your knees on the mattress, openly air-guitaring as you sing along.

“Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head? We'll just pass him there, why should we even care?”

There’s a new voice joining in with yours this time. You slowly turn around and move the hair out of the way that’s covering your face from all your whipping it about. Eddie leans against your doorframe, arms crossed against his chest, and the biggest smile on his face that you think you’ve ever seen. You hadn’t realized how long it’s been since you’ve seen him smile like that. Months? At least.

“Enjoy the show?” you ask as you hop down from your bed.

“Very much,” he says. “Don’t stop on my account.”

You give him a playful glare as you walk over to your mirror. You use your hairbrush/pseudo microphone to get your hair out of your face and looking somewhat presentable.

“How’d the deals go?” you ask as you grab your sneakers.

“Fine. Two usuals so it was quick and painless,” he tells you as you lace up your converse.

Unlike this basketball game will be, you think to yourself.

“Save any for us to use tomorrow?”

“Well, duh. But we’ll have to go somewhere to smoke it. Wayne’s got an old army buddy coming over for dinner,” Eddie says.

“The park?” You take a look at yourself in the mirror and adjust your Iron Maiden shirt. Steve once told you that you should wear school colors to a game. You told him to find you a band t-shirt that had the God-awful orange and green of the basketball uniforms and you would.

“Park sounds good to me,” Eddie says. He pulls on your arm to yank you away from the mirror. “You look perfect, let’s go.”

Your face flushes as you follow Eddie out of your room. Both of you wave to your parents in the living room before heading outside. Climbing into Eddie’s van is second nature at this point, and you make yourself comfortable by putting your sneakered feet up on the dashboard.

Eddie starts the car and Metallica begins blaring through the air. You drum on your knees as Eddie makes the short drive to Hawkins High. Hopefully, Lucas will play tonight. Since he’s been getting better, the coach has been putting him in more. It was great to see his confidence grow.

The parking lot in front of the school is almost as crowded as it would be if school was in session. Eddie slips the van into one of the few empty spots and you both get out. The murmuring from the gym could be heard out in the parking lot. Was this an important game? Was our team doing well this year? You had no idea. You came to most, if not all, of the games, but you hardly paid attention to any of it.

The sounds of the crowd talking loudly to one another, the squeaking of sneakers on the shiny floor, and the cacophony of instruments tuning up in the band section of the bleachers smack you in the face as Eddie opens the gym door for you. You nod to him in thanks before slipping inside. He follows behind you and you wave to Nancy who is on the sidelines with other students from the school paper.

Robin waves and gives you a big smile when you walk past the school band. You blow her a kiss, and she pretends to catch it. In the middle of the bleachers there’s a small gap where you and Eddie could fit. When you get closer to it, you can see it’s empty because Max, Dustin, and Mike have their feet there; their attempt at saving the seat for you guys.

“Finally,” Dustin says. “Thought someone was gonna sit on my feet any second.”

“You better move them quick then,” Eddie says. He moves to sit on the boy’s feet and all three of them bring their legs back to themselves.

From where you’re sitting, the cheerleaders are straight ahead. They’re in your direct line of vision and you get the feeling that your neck is going to be sore tomorrow because you’ll probably spend most of the game looking and talking to Max behind you.

Eddie raises his hand to wave, and you leave your eyes in your lap. You don’t need to see her pretty smile or her bright eyes. Her hair that was never out of place. You reach up to smooth over your own hair self-consciously.

“Stop,” Max says. She’s leaned in towards you so she can whisper in your ear. “Your hair is fine. You look great. And you know he’s going to spend more time talking to you than paying attention to her during the game anyway.”

With a sigh, you turn your head to give her a small smile. She reaches forward and squeezes your shoulder. Your girls knew how you felt about Eddie. With Nancy and Max, they said they had known before you even told them. The pair of them thought it was incredibly obvious to anyone who was paying attention, while Robin was shocked when you told her.

A whistle blows, signaling the start of the game. Your eyes scan the white jerseys moving around the court and on the sidelines. Number eight is standing on the side, hands on his hips and swaying from side to side. From the back, Lucas looks tense and nervous. Maybe this was a big game.

The cheerleaders began with their cheers, the sounds of pompoms crashing against each other catching on the air. Eddie watched the first few cheers before he turned to you.

“I’m already over it,” he says.

“Let me know when Lucas gets out on the court and I’ll care,” you answer him.

“Hey,” Dustin says, popping his head in between yours and Eddie’s. “You hear about the contest down at the bar?”

“What contest?” Eddie asks.

“What bar?” you ask.

Mike breaks his eyes away from the court to join the conversation. “The karaoke bar over by the grocery store.”

“They’re having like, a talent show - karaoke version - or something. I think you win $500,” Dustin says.

“When is it?” Eddie asks. He loved singing in front of people, and if he could win some money in the process, why not?

“Friday, you losers,” Max says, looking at Dustin and Mike. “You seriously didn’t notice that it’s the same night as Hellfire? The end of your campaign?”

“Shit,” Dustin says.

“Damn, that would’ve been fun,” Eddie says. “That’s a pretty big place, too. Nice sized audience.”

“Get up during halftime and sing to this crowd then,” you joke to Eddie.

“Oh God, don’t put that in his head. He’ll do it,” Mike says.

“These people wouldn’t know good music if I blared it in their ears,” Eddie says as he looks around the bleachers. “Ah, look. Harrington with another date. Who’s that one?”

Both you and Max crane your necks to try and see who Steve is with. He’s a few rows higher than you and closer to the band.

“Heidi?” Max asks.

“I don’t think so. Steve said he wouldn’t go on another date with her. Plus, Heidi’s hair is lighter than that,” you say.

Steve catches you and Max looking at him and mimes putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. Max rolls her eyes while you let out a laugh.

“Poor Steve,” you say. “All these girls just aren’t right for him.”

“I keep telling him that he’s gotta figure out what he wants but he never listens to me,” Dustin says.

“Does he listen to anyone?” Max asks.

“Robin, maybe,” you add.

“Has he ever asked you on a date?” Eddie asks you. You furrow your brow in confusion. Why was he asking this? Just curiosity?

“No,” you say. “We’re friends.”

Eddie shrugs. “Sometimes that’s the best thing to be before becoming something more.”

You take a deep breath and feel your stomach clenching.

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” you say. You stand up and Max stands behind you.

“I’ll come with you,” she says.

The two of you walk out of the gymnasium and into the quiet school hallway. Max stays quiet until she confirms there aren’t any other girls in the bathroom.

“You’re entering that contest,” Max says.

“What?”

“Find a song that expresses what you’re feeling and let it out on stage. You’re good. Good enough to win. And you know the guys won’t see because they’ll be playing DND.”

“I don’t know, Max.” You lean against the sinks and Max leans next to you.

“Oh, come on. You’re telling me a song about wanting someone who you can’t have comes on the radio while you’re driving, and you don’t angry belt it out?” Max asks.

“Yeah, alone in my car,” you say.

“And it’s cathartic, right?”

“I guess.” You shrug and avoid Max’s eyes because you know what’s coming next.

“If that feels good, imagine getting all those emotions and feelings out on stage,” Max says. “I already signed you up.”

You sigh and rub your hands over your face. It makes sense and you hate it. Music has always been your way of expressing yourself. Maybe doing this would help you release some of your anger and sadness.

“Fine,” you finally concede.

“Yes!” Max says. “We’ll bring Nancy and Robin and it’ll be great.”

“No one tells the guys about this, though,” you say. “I don’t need any of the headache that would come with that.”

“My lips are sealed,” Max says.

 After the game, in which Lucas made the game winning shot, friends and family mingled with the players and cheerleaders. You would’ve gone with the others to talk to Lucas if Eddie hadn’t all but steered you in the direction of Chrissy. His hand was on the small of your back and you’d let him lead you anywhere like that. Even here.

“Eddie!” Chrissy calls. She runs forward and wraps her arms around his neck. He wraps his around her small waist and lifts her up, her short skirt riding up her ass. You divert your eyes from the pair of them, scanning the rest of the crowd for your friends.

“You were great,” Eddie is telling her. “And you looked so hot.”

Your fists clench and your fingernails are digging hard enough into your palms to draw blood.

“Like you even watched me,” Chrissy says with a laugh. “I saw you talking the whole time.”

Eddie frowns and his brows pinch together. “I did watch you.”

“Okay,” she says as she gives him a pat on the arm. It’s the condescending tone that’s dripping from her voice that makes you speak up.

“He pointed out to us in the third period when you did the new cheer. The one you came up with when you became cheer captain,” you say. You bite back from adding, “So, see? He pays attention to you even though you’re horrible to him and he deserves far better than you could ever be.”

Chrissy turns, looking at you as if she just noticed you were there. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” you respond, trying to keep the venom in your voice to a minimum.

She turns back to Eddie and wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m hungry. Can we go get pizza?”

Eddie glances at you out of the corner of his eye before looking back at her. “Uh, I hadn’t planned on that. I was going to give y/n a ride home.”

Chrissy pouts and it doesn’t suit her. Her lip goes too far out and her eyes scrunch in a way that looks more painful than sad.

“But I hardly got to see you today. Can’t she get a ride with someone else?” Chrissy asks.

“Don’t talk about her as if she’s not here,” Eddie says, pulling back from her a little. Her pout turns to a glare as she looks at him.

“It’s fine,” you say, taking a few steps back. You didn’t want to make this worse for Eddie and you certainly didn’t want to be stuck in the van with the two of them.

“But…” Eddie trails off.

“It’s okay,” you say, though your heart is telling you the opposite. “Go get pizza.”

He frowns deeper but nods his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.” You give him a small smile before disappearing into the crowd.

Hopefully, Steve didn’t drive his date here and she had her own way home. You look through the mass of bodies for the familiar head of brown hair but come up empty. You don’t see a baseball cap with curls spilling out of it or a redhead either.

With a sigh, you walk to the doors. You head out into the dark evening, the stars and moon shining bright down on Hawkins this night. Most of the parking lot has cleared out and you don’t see a car you recognize other than the big brown van that used to bring you so much comfort.

Home is only six miles away, so you decide to walk. It’s a chilly night and you wrap your arms around yourself, hands rubbing up and down your arms that are bare in your t-shirt. You’ve made the walk before and you estimate it will take you about two hours. Thankful that you wore your most comfortable sneakers, you head up the hill and off school property.

The streets are quiet and dark, which unsettles you. Weird things happen in Hawkins all the time and you’d wager this is how a lot of them started. After walking two miles, a total of three cars have passed you by. You were almost more afraid when you saw the cars coming towards you rather than walking alone in the darkness.

You hear a car coming from behind and you take a step closer to the tree line and out of the road since the driver probably can’t see you.

“Y/n?”

You look back and Robin is hanging out the passenger window of Steve’s car.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Walking home,” you say as if it was a normal occurrence. Maybe if you act as if this wasn’t that big of a deal, they’d believe it.

“In the dark? Alone? At night? Are you insane?” Robin says. The driver door opens and Steve steps out. He walks over to you and looks at you in concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

“Where’s Eddie?”

“He, um. Well, Chrissy wanted pizza. So, I said I’d get another ride, but I couldn’t find one. And home isn’t too far.” You shrug, not meeting his eyes.

Steve rests his hands on his hips and sighs. His typical mom stance.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home. You’re going to have to pile in though.” He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you to the car. “Jesus, you’re freezing. You know, you could’ve called me. Or Robin or Max or Dustin or Mike.”

Steve opens the back door, and the three younger faces look back at you. Max scoots over until she’s sitting on Dustin’s lap.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Dustin says. He raises his arms in the air so he isn’t touching Max at all.

You slide in and Steve closes the door behind you. Dustin refuses to look at anyone, cheeks flushing. You can’t help the small smile on your face as you tug Max over to sit on your lap instead. She settles easily enough and rests her head against the window.

The car smells like fried food and you find out why when Mike holds a bag out in front of you.

“Burger? Fries?” he offers. “Or…” he rummages around in bags between his feet. “Onion rings.”

“Toss one,” you tell him. He smiles as you open your mouth and tries to throw the fried onion inside. Surprisingly, he makes it, which makes the four of you in the back cheer.

Robin gets dropped off first, her living the closest to school. She grabs her band hat and trumpet out of the trunk and waves before she disappears inside her house. Dustin takes the opportunity to jump into the front seat. Technically, Max should’ve been the next one dropped off, but Steve kept driving straight past the trailer park. Max didn’t say a word, knowing why Steve was avoiding the neighborhood for now.

“Why didn’t Nancy drive you home?” you ask Mike as Steve pulls into the Wheeler driveway.

“Because she’s a priss and has to stay late to work on the stupid paper,” he says.

“Hey!” Both you and Steve yell at the same time as he scrambles out of the car.

“You try living with her,” he says before waving his hand in a goodbye.

Your house is next, and you sag in relief when it comes into view. You hadn’t been expecting to see it for at least another hour at the rate you were walking before.

“Thanks for the ride, Steve,” you say. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime that idiot leaves you high and dry just call me,” Steve says, looking at you in the rear-view mirror. You smile to yourself, thinking this must be what it’s like to have a big brother. You now understand why the kids all gravitated towards him.

“Thanks,” you repeat as you get out of the car. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you say to Max and Dustin. They wave as you head up to your door.

 School the next day is weird. People are excited because the basketball team won; so, the halls were buzzing with that energy. But most people were tired as well, having stayed up later than usual to come to the game. It all gives you a nice cover for how you’re feeling. You feel sluggish and irritated. Though you can’t put your finger on the exact reason why, you knew the people it could be blamed on.

Eddie leans up against the locker next to yours between second and third period as you’re exchanging your books out.

“You didn’t text me last night,” he says.

“What?” you ask, not looking at him.

“When you got home. You didn’t text me to let me know you got home okay.”

“You didn’t ask me to,” you point out.

He frowns. “I didn’t think I had to. It’s just kind of something we do.”

“Well, sorry, I guess.” You close your locker and turn to him. “Was there something else?”

“Are you mad at me?” he asks. His big puppy dog eyes are shining and it’s truly your damn kryptonite.

You take a deep breath. “No.” You don’t know if that’s really true or not, though.

“You’re sure?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at you.

“I’m sure,” you lie.

“Are we still on for the park later?” he asks, hope glimmering in his eyes.

“Of course,” you say, eager to see him relax.

“Perfect. I’ve got everything in my backpack already to go.” The weed, he means. You can’t think of a better day to get high than today.  

 School simultaneously drags on and ends too quickly. Chrissy has cheer practice, so you don’t have to deal with her while you walk to Eddie’s van. Once inside, he cranks Sweet Child O’ Mine because he knows it’s one of your favorites. When you don’t hum along or even tap your foot along to the beat, he knows something is up.

He parks the van across the street from the park and grabs his backpack.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in affirmation and hop out. The two of you walk down the street to the crosswalk. Normally you’d just jay-walk to cross the street, but this intersection was notorious for pedestrian injuries. When you get your signal that it’s okay to cross, Eddie trips and you hear the ripping of material. You look down and see he’s ripped his own jeans by stepping on the hem of them while walking. The tear that was at his knee has now tripled in size and he could easily stick his whole leg through it. You giggle to yourself, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief at the sound.

The two of you find your usual bench at the park and claim it. It’s hidden by a copse of trees so it’s easier to hide your illicit activities, but still allows you a good view of the park.

Eddie pulls out the two joints he’d rolled and lights one before handing it to you. Though you were used to the sickeningly bitter odor, it didn’t mean you liked it. You wrinkle your nose before raising the bud to your lips. You inhale, letting the burn curl down your throat and into your lungs. You were pretty good at not coughing by now. The first few times you’d ended up in total tears because of the intense hacking.

Eddie takes a hit of his own joint and rests his head against the back of the bench, blowing smoke straight up towards the sky. He closes his eyes and you take the time to admire him. He’d forgone the denim vest today and just settled on his leather jacket over his hellfire shirt. Hints of stubble were starting to appear on his chin and his lips were a little chapped. His long, dark eyelashes kiss his cheeks as his eyes move under his closed lids. He’s so beautiful it physically aches you.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to smile at you. It’s a real Eddie smile and it warms your heart. It’s so rare these days but it’s so bright it could rival the moon at night.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.

“The moon,” you say.

Eddie chuckles and takes another hit. “Oh yeah?” He releases the smoke. “What about it?”

“It’s so bright. But you only notice the brightness at night.” You came up with it off the top of your head, but it sounded good to you. You raise your joint to your mouth for another puff.

“Like some people I guess,” Eddie says. He doesn’t sound like he’s finished talking so you wait. “Sometimes you don’t see how amazing some people are until everything else around you dims, but they don’t. They’re still there bright and shining.”

It could be that he’s having a profound thought about his life, or the pot is kicking in, so you can’t be sure.

“I want to go to the moon,” you say. Eddie laughs and you can tell both of you are feeling the effects now.

His laugh is infectious and causes you to start laughing as well. You curl in on yourself, abdominal muscles starting to cramp, and you slide to the side to lay across Eddie’s lap.

“Eds?” you ask, eyes staring up at the clouds above.

“Mm?”

“I miss you.”

He frowns down at you and pokes your forehead with his ringed index finger.

“I’m right here, silly head.”

“I know,” you say.

“I like when we talk,” Eddie says. His head is moving all around, taking in all the sights in the park around you. There are a few squirrels scampering up the tree closest to you. Birds sing in the distance and the laughter of kids comes from the playground a few hundred feet away.

“I like it too,” you say. “It’s so easy to talk to you.”

“Always has been. Since we met.”

“You’re my favorite person,” you tell him.

He grins and drops his head down to look at you. “More than Timothée Chalamet?”

“Mhmm,” you hum in confirmation.

“Wow,” Eddie says with a laugh. “That’s saying something.”

The two of you decide to lay in the grass as you let the pot work through your system. Eddie won’t be able to drive for a while anyway, so you take advantage of the nice day.

“I had a weird dream last night,” Eddie says.

“Yeah? Tell me.”

“I was playing at The Hideout. But when I looked down, I was playing the wrong guitar. It was a nice guitar. It was gold and smooth and sounded beautiful. But it wasn’t my guitar. I put the gold guitar down and tried to find mine. I started freaking out because I thought I lost it. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it.”

“Did you find it?” you ask.

“I did. But some guy was playing it and it made me so mad.”

“What guy?” You let your heavy eyes droop closed.

“M’not sure. He didn’t look familiar. Could’ve been anyone, I guess. But he was playing my guitar and I wanted it back. But he said I was too late. And it made me really really sad.”

You frown and reach over to take Eddie’s hand in yours. “It’s okay, Eddie. No one is going to take your guitar away. Why would it want to leave you?”

 The high lasted a few hours and by the time Eddie got you home for dinner, the munchie effect was still going strong. You devoured the lasagna your mom put down in front of you. The bloodshot look had faded from your eyes, so you were just hoping your parents thought you were extra hungry today for some reason.

 You should’ve gone to sleep hours ago. It would’ve been easy; you always slept better on days when you got high with Eddie. But you still hadn’t picked a song to sing at the karaoke competition. Your head was in the middle of your bed, and you rested your legs up against the wall over your headboard. You scroll and scroll through playlists, trying to find a song that expresses what you’ve been feeling.

The sound of brakes squeaking makes you move your legs down and sit up on your bed. Your phone tells you that it’s 3:17am. You walk over to your window and see Eddie walking around the side of your house. You frown at him, and he notices you up in your window. You point towards the back door and Eddie nods.

Eddie would sometimes come by in the middle of the night, but he’d usually text first. You creep down the stairs as quietly as you can, avoiding any creaks. Your cat picks his head up from where he’s sleeping on the top of the couch to see what you’re up to. He decides he doesn’t care though and adjusts himself into a new comfortable position to fall back asleep.

Luckily, your dad had fixed it so the back door didn’t stick anymore when you tried to open it. It glides open silently and Eddie steps inside.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” you whisper to him.

He nods but he won’t meet your eyes. You frown and take his hand in yours. As you walk back past your cat, he picks his head up again and deems Eddie worthy of his affection. Eddie scratches his head two times before following you up the stairs.

You pull him into your room and quietly close the door behind you.

“What’s up?” you ask him.

He shrugs and sits on the edge of your bed. “Didn’t want to be alone.”

The sheets are messy, and you crawl on top of them, making yourself comfortable against the mountain of pillows against your headboard. Eddie glances back before leaning backwards so his head ends up in your lap. You start to play with his hair. You haven’t done this in a while, and it warms your heart. His eyes drift closed, and you think he’s fallen asleep until he quietly kicks his boots off so he can pull his legs up on the bed as well.

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

He opens his eyes and stares at your ceiling. “I feel confused.”

“About what?”

“That’s the thing. Everything.”

You frown and trace your pinky finger along one of his curls. “Elaborate?”

“I don’t know how,” he says. “Feel like everything is upside down. I feel like I want things to go back to normal, but I don’t know what’s changed to make me think things aren’t normal. Am I making sense?”

“Sort of,” you say.

His eyes begin to water, and it breaks your heart. You’d give anything to be able to fix what’s wrong, but he doesn’t seem to know.

“Where do I belong?” he asks.

“Here,” you say without hesitation. “Here with me and your uncle and Dustin and all your friends. Here with your favorite guitar and your band and your loud as all hell van.”

That makes him chuckle and your heart feels ten pounds lighter. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again.

“Did you miss something on that list? Or someone?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say carefully. “Did I?”

He licks over his lips before answering. “I don’t believe you did. I think that was a pretty complete list. Doesn’t need anyone else.”

“No?” you ask.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head. “She reamed me out for an hour before because I hadn’t bought prom tickets yet.”

“I didn’t even know they were on sale,” you say. You’re trying to keep your voice calm for him, but it’s proving difficult.

“Neither did I,” he says. “But she goes on and on about how she already bought her dress and the, and I’m quoting here, ‘the prettiest high heels in the world.’”

“Shouldn’t she have waited until, you know…at least until you asked?”

“Right?” he huffs out. He runs his hands over his face, and you start to play with the small curls along his forehead. “I’ve got to end it.”

“I think so,” you say in a small voice.

He tilts his head up so he can look at you. “Friday, yeah? Tomorrow I’ve got a test, so I don’t want the stress added to that. I need to pass this class.”

“Biology again?” you ask. “I thought you were doing better.”

“I am, but I won’t if I bomb this test.”

“You should probably get some sleep then.” You almost said “go home and get some sleep” but that’s not what you really want. He nods and goes to sit up, but you catch his arm.

“Here?” he asks.

You shrug and slide yourself under the covers. “Why not? I don’t have cooties. I got the shot.”

He smiles and shrugs out of his leather jacket before sliding in the bed next to you. Your heart races as his head lays on the pillow next to yours, noses almost touching.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight.”

 On Friday, you only get to see Eddie between second and third period at your locker. His plan is to have lunch with Chrissy outside and break up with her then. Your paths don’t cross after lunch, and he has Hellfire and you’re meeting with the girls to get ready for the karaoke contest right after school. Your stomach will be in knots until you find out how it went.

Nancy dusts your eyelids with silver eyeshadow as you sit on your bed. Max and Robin go through your closet, deciding what you should wear tonight.

“No, that might be see-through under the lights.”

“What about this?”

“It clashes with the silver eyeshadow.”

“Any texts from Eddie?” Nancy asks quietly as she cleans up the edges.

“No,” you breathe out with a sigh. “But he’s never on his phone during Hellfire. I think that would be blasphemous in there.”

Nancy hums her agreement.

“We’ve got one!” Robin announces.

You open your eyes to see Max holding a royal blue dress that accentuates your curves and feels silky smooth against your skin. You wrinkle your nose at them.

“It doesn’t go,” you say.

“With what?” Max asks.

“My song!”

“Oh, you’re right,” Robin says.

“Fine, fine,” Max says. She puts the dress back in the closet and starts to dig through your drawers.

“I hope there are no sex toys in here,” Robin says as she joins Max.

You roll your eyes as Nancy touches up your eyeliner.

“Jeans,” Nancy says as she works. “She should wear jeans and a t-shirt.”

“That’s what she wears every day,” Robin says.

“Exactly,” you and Nancy say at the same time.

“Okay, fine,” Robin acquiesces. “But what one?”

“Iron Maiden?” Max asks as she picks one out of the drawer. “There’s also Guns ‘n Roses, Black Sabbath, Metallica. Geez, any from this century?”

“Corroded Coffin,” you say. Max looks at you and grins.

“Where is it?” she asks.

“Top drawer.”

Robin and Max pick out the best jeans to go with your favorite tee. Nancy tells you to get dressed before she fixes your hair. She doesn’t do much, just spray a little product in it and tussle it up.

“Perfect,” she says.

 You pace back and forth backstage. You’re not exactly nervous. Not about the singing, anyway. About letting your feelings channel through you in this way. It was a vulnerability you’d never shared before. Even if the audience just thought you’d picked this song because you liked it, you and your friends knew the truth.

The girl on stage now is singing Madonna and you take deep breaths to settle yourself.

 “Hey.”

Nancy jumps at the voice in her ear. She turns her head to see Eddie sliding into the seat next to her. Her eyes widen comically, and Eddie raises an eyebrow at her.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here either, but do I look like a ghost or something?”

“What are you doing here?” Robin demands from the other side of Nancy. Someone in the crowd shushes her, but she doesn’t care. “You’re supposed to be at Hellfire.”

Eddie shrugs with a devious smile and Dustin plops down in the seat on the other side of him.

“His stupid campaign wiped us out in the first half hour,” Dustin says. “We remembered this was happening, so we figured we’d catch the last half.”

Max’s leg bounces nervously on Robin’s other side and Eddie notices the motion.

“What’s wrong, Red?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head at him. “Wait, where’s y/n?” he asks.

Robin leans in to whisper in Max’s ear. “Do we have time to warn her?”

“No,” Max whispers back. “She’s up next.”

“Maybe she won’t see with all the lights,” Nancy leans over to add.

Robin groans and drops her head in her hands.

The girl wraps up singing Papa Don’t Preach and the audience claps politely. The manager steps out on the stage and reads from a clipboard.

“Next up we have y/n y/l/n.”

Eddie’s jaw drops before a huge smile forms on his face. He was going to get to hear you sing again. Finally.

You step onstage and Eddie’s taken aback. He didn’t expect an elaborate outfit or anything of the sort but seeing you in a Corroded Coffin shirt took him by surprise.

The music begins and the notes tickle his brain. He knows this song. He knows that he knows it because of Chrissy, even if he can’t place it. Why would you choose this song?

You grip the mic tightly in your grip and lift it to your mouth.

“You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset. She's going off about something that you said, ‘cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.”

It’s Taylor Swift, Eddie recognizes. This confuses him even further. What was it you said about her music?

“I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night. I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like, and she'll never know your story like I do.”

You feel your confidence picking up as you keep going. Looking at the audience doesn’t seem like a good idea, so you keep your eyes vague as they move across the open space in front of you. It feels good to have a microphone in your hand.

“But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time.”

Eddie’s stunned to his seat. His jaw hangs open as he recalls what you said. It was like Taylor Swift took a page out of your diary and wrote a song about it. There was no mistaking what and who this song was about. Even for someone who knew how dense he could be at times.

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

The grin that spreads across your face is freeing. You never knew being vulnerable could feel this good. You’re sharing your heart with the people in the audience and most of them have no idea.

“Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be. Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, ‘Hey, isn't this easy?’ And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down. You say you're fine, I know you better than that. Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?”

All three of your friends in the audience are caught between watching you work the stage like you were born for it and looking over at Eddie to gauge his reaction. Nancy notices the way his hands are gripping the armrests and she doesn’t know what that means.

“She wears high heels, I wear sneakers. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time. If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.”

You catch a flash of red hair in the audience, and it widens your smile. So that’s where your friends are out there. You’ll have to get a good look at them when singing the next part.

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor, all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

There’s a small instrumental break and you take the opportunity to lower the mic and look at the row your friends are in. But your eyes catch a very familiar pair of brown ones and your veins ice over and your stomach bottoms out. Eddie’s staring at you with those eyes and they’re enough to make you melt on the spot without all the lights on you adding to the heat. You try not to let it break your stride on stage. Spinning on the sole of your shoe, you face the back of the stage to compose your face and take a deep breath. You continue. The show must go on.

“Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night. I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry. And I know your favorite songs, and you tell me 'bout your dreams. Think I know where you belong, think I know it's with me.”

You realize it’s all out in the open now. The Band-Aid has been ripped off and you might as well finish the song off strong. It’s easy to find Eddie’s eyes in the audience, wide as they are, and you keep eye contact as you sing the next part.

“Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? Been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.”

Eddie isn’t fully sure he’s awake. This has to be a dream, right? He’d pinch himself if he were able to move a muscle. Your eyes boring into his and baring your soul to him. There’s pressure on the back of his eyes and a fist clenching around his heart. How long have you been hurting over this?

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

Adrenaline is coursing through your body and you’re already worried about what’s going to happen when it wears off. You wish the song wouldn’t end so you don’t have to leave the stage and deal with whatever comes after.

“You belong with me. Have you ever thought just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.”

The cheers and applause are white noise to you. There’s only one other person in the room and he hasn’t moved a muscle; not even on his shocked face.

You give the crowd the best smile you can before exiting the stage. You drop the mic on a table and find the most isolated corner of the backstage that you can. Resting your head against the wall and taking big, deep breaths is all you can focus on.

Hands land gently on your shoulders, but you still jump. You spin around quickly and come face to face with the one person you no longer knew how to talk to. His big brown eyes are wide and glassy. He’s never resembled a baby cow more than he does in this moment. His mouth keeps opening and closing, as if he wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. That makes two of you.

“I didn’t know,” he finally says.

You close your eyes and nod. “I know. I didn’t want you to.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s not, um. That’s not what I meant.” He squeezes his eyes closed and licks over his lips. “I didn’t know. But she did.”

Your brow pinches in confusion and you shake your head. “I don’t understand.” The last thing you thought would be happening right now is Eddie trying to explain something to you.

“When I broke up with Chrissy.” Eddie sees the wince on your face at her name and it breaks his heart. How had he never noticed before? “She knew I loved you. She said she knew from day one. That’s why I didn’t text you right after I did it. I needed to think. About how true it was.”

“And?” The word barely squeaks out of you. Every nerve in your body was on edge, awaiting his response.

“After that?” Eddie gestures to the stage. “How could I have any doubt?”

His hand cups the back of your head gently and brings your mouth against his. His other hand snakes around your waist and your arms automatically come up to encircle his neck. It’s a gentle kiss, but it gets across all the emotions floating between the two of you. Relief, joy, love, excitement, fear, to name a few.

Eddie’s lips dance across yours again and again. You pull him closer, and he gets the hint, his tongue coming out to glide across your bottom lip. You happily part your lips for him.

“Y/n y/l/n….y/n y/l/n…y/n y/l/n?”

Eddie finally realizes your name is being called and pulls back from your lips. You whine and go to chase them, but Eddie chuckles and points towards the stage.

“Babe, I think you won,” he says.

You grin, never taking your eyes off him. You cup his jaw and lean in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Oh, I know I did.”

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