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vampaiaz · 2 months

Text

— he’s mine

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

pairing: billy hargrove / reader

length: short and fast LOL

cw: neigbors, older!billy & slightly younger!reader, he's 35 and you're 20 something, AFAB reader, alternate universe (modern), use of feminine pronouns & nicknames, mention & use of alcohol, friends to fwb/lovers (?), flirting, sexual tension, resolved sexual tension, rough sex, ONLY oral sex, drunk BUT consensual sex (you are sober enough), dacryphiliac billy ( my fav...), perv billy (he's gross), praise, spitting, squirting...

synopsis: you trust billy a lot, he's a bit mean but he cares about you. what if he invites you for a ride on his motorcycle?

a/n: the title is suuuch a throwback (when s4 was out and ppl kept using ‘he’s mine’ for edits UGHHH miss those times) anyway, i’m back !!! so crazy so insane … i hope u like this !!! ty for reading <3

you watched as billy's camaro roared up to his driveway, the engine cutting through the stillness of the night. his signature smirk was barely visible in the dim light, but you knew it was there.

wrapped around him was another girl, her laughter spilling out into the quiet neighborhood as they stumbled toward the front door. it was a routine you'd seen countless times—billy hargrove, your neighbor who just couldn't stick to one.

you couldn't deny that billy was attractive. his charm, the way he carried himself, and those piercing blue eyes—he was everything that could make a girl weak in the knees. he could even make you feel that way.

but beneath all that, you'd seen glimpses of the real billy. he was capable of more than just shallow one-night stands. whenever you needed a ride somewhere, he’d be there. after a long day, he wouldn’t hesitate to share a cigarette with you, offering silent companionship.

you let out a sigh as they both disappeared into his home. billy could have anyone, literally anyone, yet he seemed determined to prove something. you found yourself wishing that this time, he might actually let someone in—really let them in.

three knocks on your door.

it was afternoon and you were still in your nightwear—lacy and pink, your favorite. you quickly put on a robe to look at least somewhat presentable.

as you opened the door, your eyes met billy's. he was in his usual getup: a white tank, blue denim, and a leather jacket. "you busy, sweetheart?"

there he goes again with the nicknames... makes it harder not to like him.

"hi billy, you need something?" you smiled at him, suddenly conscious of how you looked, and crossed your arms over your chest.

"y'look real pretty for someone that just got up." his lips curled into a grin. "just wanted to know if you want to come with me for a ride on my bike."

you noticed his eyes scanning you up and down. "in this? i'd rather not," you joked. his eyes lit up, and he laughed, the sound rich and warm. "i'll give you time to get ready if you're up for it, princess."

you chewed your lip, weighing the options of spending your morning with him or just peacefully spending it at home. "fine, where are we going?" you asked.

he flashed a satisfied smile. "you thinking about what you're gonna wear?"

"obviously." you rolled your eyes.

"just wear something pretty for me. i'll figure out where we could go by then." he winked.

he walked back to his house, calling over his shoulder, "30 minutes!" you gave him an 'okay.'

you were all dolled up—for him? who knows, but you knew you looked beautiful. as you locked your door and turned around, billy was already there, waiting by his bike. "don't you think your skirt's a little too short?" he pushed his sunglasses down to take a good look.

"i think it's just right." you smiled at him playfully. "you got a problem with it?" you raised an eyebrow.

"not at all, princess." he replied, leaning back on his bike. he patted the seat, and you rushed over, sliding on behind him. "arms around me," he instructed, and you followed without hesitation.

the two of you rode through the windy, cold streets of hawkins. your heart sped up with adrenaline, and you held onto billy tighter. he could feel you move behind him, but you couldn't see his reaction to it.

he stopped at a local pub. "we're here." he waited for you to get off before doing the same. "well, aren't you romantic? taking me out on a date, mr. hargrove?" you teased.

"want it to be a date?" he shot back, his voice smooth and teasing. you felt your face warm. "whatever."

he chuckled softly at your childishness, his arm snaking around your waist as he led you both into the pub.

you listened to the band playing as billy paid for another drink. "you like 'em?" he asked.

"not bad." you nodded, keeping your eyes on the band.

your skin prickled under billy's gaze. "you been doing okay?" he leaned closer, his voice gravelly right after taking a sip of his beer.

you turned your attention to him, noticing how much taller he was—you had to look up to meet his eyes. he could already tell the alcohol was starting to get to you. "i've been fine. my cat keeps me company." you grinned.

"adorable," he murmured.

you heard it, but you couldn’t tell if he meant your cat or something else. "i’m just more tired recently 'cause of work. where do you get your energy, billy?"

"you don't want to know the answer to that."

you rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him away. "really funny."

the night went on, and the two of you spent it talking about each other the whole time.

"you tired, princess?" he asked, noticing you yawn.

"kinda, wanna head out now," you replied.

he gave a soft smile, stood up to gather his things, and took your hand in his. his hand was rough and calloused, suggesting he did some tough work. "your hand's pretty big," you blurted out.

billy chuckled and hopped onto his bike. "hold onto me, 'kay?" you nodded and wrapped your arms around his waist. "tight, princess."

you rested your head on his back and complied. "good girl," he said, patting your hand. it was cute how considerate he was. you leaned up to his ear and whispered, "go fast, billy."

he went still for just a moment. "no can do, baby."

you pouted, "why not?"

he shook his head and started the bike. "if i go too fast, you won't like it."

you shivered at his words; he was talking about the ride, but your mind wandered elsewhere. "might like it," you replied.

billy's chest shook with laughter. "alright, but don’t cry about it."

he accelerated quickly, and the bike roared to life.

you happily yelled, feeling your arms loosen around his chest as the wind whipped through your hair. the stillness of the night was filled with your screams and the engine’s growl.

your heart raced, but you felt secure knowing billy was there, keeping you safe.

you finally arrived at your house, hopping off his bike. you waited for billy to do the same.

"had fun, sweetheart?" he asked, flashing a genuine smile.

you responded with enthusiastic yes’s, and he laughed in return. "let’s call it a night," he said.

you paused, feeling a pang of disappointment. you had hoped he might want to spend more time with you. hesitating, you reached out to tug on his jacket.

billy noticed and turned back to you. "uhm," you stammered.

"what’s wrong, princess?" his voice carried a note of concern.

you closed your eyes tightly and sighed. "don’t you want to spend the night with me?" you chewed on your lips as you waited for his reaction.

he smirked, "oh baby, i don’t think i can do that," his voice deep. "we don’t know what could happen."

your face flushed with warmth, the heat spreading through your skin.

but alcohol gave you a boost of confidence.

"why? are you scared of me?" you leaned your head to the side, feigning innocence.

"scared? not at all, baby," he shook his head, stepping closer. "for all we know, you should be scared of me." his eyes locked onto yours with an intense gaze.

you hadn’t noticed him get off his bike and move closer until now.

you challenged him with the same intensity in your stare. "do you want me to just say what i want out loud?" you asked.

he was taken aback, "what do you want, hm?" his face getting even closer.

without another word, you leaned in and caught him in a hungry, passionate kiss. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his hands gripped your waist. your bodies moved in sync, drawing closer with each passing second.

he broke the kiss, his breathing staggered. you watched as he licked his lips. "lead the way, baby." he breathes out.

as you entered your house, billy was already helping you out of your top. his hands explored the softness of your unclothed waist while you skillfully unbuckled his belt.

"now, where’d you learn that?" he murmured, placing wet kisses on your neck.

you giggled. "i’m not exactly inexperienced, you know."

you felt him smile against your skin. "trying to make me jealous?" he stepped back to remove his top.

"is it working?" you asked, watching him as he tossed it aside. "nah, i’m pretty sure no one else could make you feel the way i do."

with a sudden move, he lifted you, causing you to yelp in surprise. he carried you over to the sofa and gently laid you down on your back, his body covering yours.

he resumed kissing your neck, moving down to your collarbone, chest, and stomach. his gaze then fixed on your skirt.

"need this off," he muttered, his hands gripping the edges and pulling them off forcefully.

his eyes widened just a bit seeing what you had under the skirt. "pink, huh?"

"i like pink." you responded, defensively.

he bit his lip and slid the thong off you, holding it out in front of him. "you like it?" you asked, playfully batting your eyes at him.

"mhm," he said, bunching it up in his hand and bringing it to his nose. your jaw dropped as he inhaled deeply. "billy! oh my god!" you exclaimed, reaching up to snatch it from his hand.

embarrassment flooded over you.

"what?" he feigned innocence, a smirk playing on his lips. "a man can't do what he wants?" his fingers traced your inner thigh, brushing against your sensitive skin.

you gasped at the teasing touch, whimpering as you clung to his belt loops, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

his fingers inched closer to your core, just barely touching your wetness. you guided his hand, trying to bring it closer to where you needed it most.

"oh no, baby. i take the lead, okay?" he said, gently pushing you away. you whimpered, "please, billy," your eyes welling up with tears.

his gaze grew darker. "you gonna cry?"

you shook your head, "please, just—please do something," you pleaded, a tear threatening to fall.

billy shushed you softly, caressing your cheek. you leaned into his touch, comforted by his gentleness. he slowly moved down, positioning himself between your legs. you instinctively held your thighs together, but he pushed them apart. "don’t hide," he murmured.

he leaned in, his tongue tracing a stripe up your folds. you heard him grunt softly, "been waiting to do that for so long," his voice vibrating against you.

you moaned at his words and his touch. he ate you out, his tongue working in and out, mixing with your wetness. the sensation of his saliva and your own desire intertwined, heightening the pleasure.

your insides were pulsing, and he could feel it. "wait—billy," you said, trying to push him away. his grip on your thighs was firm, and he remained steady.

you squirmed and whimpered, your legs trembling as he continued, but then he stopped.

"ah?" you said, surprised, as he licked his finger and maintained eye contact with you. that same finger made its way inside you, earning a gasp out of you.

he moved his finger in and out without mercy, and you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation of something thicker inside you. "billy, i think i'm gonna—"

tears stained your face as billy observed you closely, his eyes focused intently. he added another finger, and you arched your back, your head hitting the sofa as the intensity built.

the sounds of your pleasure and your voice prompted a satisfied smile from billy. he continued his movements, his thumb now gently tracing circles on your clit. "fuck!" you scream out.

your fluid shots out as you wail. "oh my fucking god..." you cried out.

"it's just me baby." he smiled, a wide smile. he shimmied his jeans off, he was leaking.

you lazily smiled at him, "my turn?" you asked.

"you got enough energy to ride?"

you shook your head a 'no'. you wished you lied but you really couldn't get up after that, even if it would make him feel really good. your body felt limp.

"that's okay, baby," he spat on his hand and jerked himself a bit, "just need your throat." he continued.

you already knew where he was going with this. you giggled, opening your mouth, your tongue lolling out. he whistled, "so pretty like this," he spat into your mouth. "swallow, princess."

and you did as you were told.

he climbed over you until you were face to face with his long, hard dick. he was big, not even kidding. "if you can't take it, tap me three times, okay?"

you hummed a 'yes'.

he entered your mouth slowly, he filled you up real nice. your hand moved to your clit.

bily exhaled and moaned as you took all of him. your moan made his body shake, the vibrations made him weak. "i'm gonna go fast, sweetheart. think you can handle that?" he said, his hand wrapped on your throat.

before you could answer, he moved in and out. he hit the back of your throat multiple times causing you to gag and sputter. billy leaned his head back, whispering out a 'fuck..'

he wasn't going fast yet. you wanted him to go faster.

you whimpered around him, billy looked down at you. he saw your eyes, pleading for more. he smirked and did what you wanted.

he changed his pace and went faster, you felt so full. his dick made your head feel heavy and your fingers on your clit doubled the pleasure.

billy kept going until you could feel his pace slow a bit, he was getting closer and you knew just what to do. you purposefully tighten up your neck and he moaned out loud.

"fuck, sweetheart. taking me so good," he breathed out, encouraging you, "you're so good, can't believe you finally let me do this to you." he shut his eyes closed.

you were making all types of sounds hearing his words, you weren't the only one who wanted this. he was thinking about you too.

as billy pushed his hips in, you felt his cum shoot out down your throat. you swallowed, drinking it all up. "holy shit..." he exclaimed, taking out his softening dick and watched you lick your lips.

"might need to keep you all to myself."

#stranger things #billy hargrove #stranger things smut #billy hargrove smut #smut #billy hargrove x reader smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things x reader

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xoxoavenger · 1 year

Text

I Wish You Would

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: You say it's in the past And drive straight ahead You think I'm gonna hate you now 'Cause you still don't know what I never said

word count: 2819

warnings: alcoholism, cheating (minor)

1989 masterlist main masterlist

JJ isn't quite sure why he goes this way to the Chateau.

There's a faster way. It's already really early in the morning, and he's exhausted from work. But he can't bring himself to avoid this road, no matter how much it hurts every single day.

It's probably the the fact that every time he drives by, he can only think of good memories.

"Hey!" A girl calls from her window on the second floor. She's leaning on the sill, her hair fluttering in the wind as she smiles. He puts his hand up to shade his eyes as he releases the lawn mower, causing it to turn off.

"What?" He yells, taking in her face. The first thing he notices is her eyes, glittering in the sun. The second is her smile, practically blinding him.

"What's your name?" She asks, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"JJ!" He tells her, brows furrowed. His eyes are still squinted, because he forgot his sunglasses at his house and he's terrified of going back while he knows his dad is unemployed and still there. "What's yours?"

"Y/N!" When she says it, he feels his heart stop momentarily. "What's your number, JJ?" She asks, and he lets out a laugh.

"Not even a date?" She asks through her giggles, and JJ thinks this sound will kill him.

"Fine!" He chuckles, thinking about what he has to do. "How about tonight at the Ship Wreck?" It's the nicest place he knows that he can also afford, and he expects this rich girl to wince. Instead she smiles even brighter, eyes crinkling.

"7 PM! Don't be late!" She winks, her laugh flowing out the window as she walks back into her room, leaving JJ to wonder how the hell he just got the easiest date of his life with the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

When he realizes he stopped in the middle of the road in front of her house, he takes a deep breath and reminds himself of what happed only a couple weeks ago. He feels like he's gonna be sick as he starts back up again, driving ahead once more.

It doesn't really matter what he thinks. It doesn't matter that he's still in love with her, because she clearly doesn't care anymore. And if she caught him outside her window, she'd probably come out just to yell at him. He wouldn't be surprised if she beat him with a stick.

She knows he's out there.

Well, she doesn't know for sure. But she can hear the rumbling of a motorcycle, and it reminds her of him. She hears it every night around the same time, and it makes her wish that he would just come back up to her room. She wouldn't even ask him questions, just let him into her bed so that he could hold her in the way she's been missing for a month now.

She doesn't go to the window to check for fear of being wrong, of seeing someone else. What she's most afraid of, however, is that someone else will be on the bike, in her place.

She knows she shouldn't feel this way. She knows they weren't dating for that long, that they were in love for such a short time that she should be able to get over it; they didn't even tell each other 'I love you' anyway, so there's no reason for her to think he loved her back. On the outside, they were the party couple, showing up and being all over each other at parties, always next to each other, always with each other. If they were both missing, everyone knew that if you found one, you found the other.

And she was always on the back of his bike.

"I can give you a ride home." He tells her, smiling. The date had gone perfect; they had hit it off quickly, and Y/N saw even the waitress smiling (later, she would realize that the waitress was Kiara, who was friends with JJ). When she had leaned out the window and asked JJ on the date, she wasn't expecting this. She knew he would be fun, she had heard of his reputation, but she didn't think he would be funny or offer to drive her home.

On his motorcycle?

"That one's yours?" She asks, blinking as JJ stops by the thin motorcycle. When he nods, she almost lets out a laugh. "And you think we're both gonna fit?" She smiles, but it's a nervous one that frays on the edges.

"We don't have to take this if you don't want to." He tells her, but she shakes her head.

"No, it sounds fun." She smiles and steps closer to him, causing him to smirk in return.

"Hold on tight." He tells her, putting his helmet over her head before climbing on. He holds his hand out for her, and she takes it while sitting on the back of the seat, thighs clutching the bike and arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Where's your helmet?" She asks, tilting her head to look at him.

"You're wearing it." He tells her, toeing backwards.

"Please be careful." Her heart is racing at the idea of something happening to JJ without his helmet. When she squeezes him tighter, he can practically feel how much she cares. It makes him feel like he could just melt, something he'd never felt before.

"I always will with you." He smiles before pulling out, and if she didn't have the helmet on she would kiss him right there.

And then, of course, she had messed it up.

It started with a party. Usually, it was well known that Y/N and JJ were together, but it was the beginning of summer and the tourons were back. Specifically, one that JJ always hooked up with.

"Jay," CarrieAnn calls, smiling with two drinks in her hand. Y/N had just gone into the Chateau with the girls to use the bathroom, and JJ had been told he wasn't allowed to follow.

"Hey, Carrie." JJ smiles tightly, instantly uncomfortable with how close she is. He steps back, but she clearly doesn't get the message because she steps forward. When JJ takes a sip of his drink, he realizes it's not beer, but something much, much stronger. Apart of him knows he shouldn't drink it, but the part of him that he gets from his dad, the addictive part, wants to slam it all down to let the alcohol numb his heavy feelings.

"How've you been?" She asks, one hand on his shoulder. He tips the drink back before he can think about it.

"I need a new one." He tells her instead of answering her question, turning in the direction of the makeshift bar they had. As they got older and more people chipped in money, they were able to get better alcohol instead of just the kegs. JJ had never been more thankful for that when he threw back a shot and then poured another mixed drink with a heavy hand.

By the time Y/N was out of the bathroom, JJ was three drinks in. He hadn't even left the huge stump they called a bar, standing and smiling with CarrieAnn.

To JJ's defense, Carrie looked a lot like Y/N. Same colored hair and height, similar skin tones and build. But he should have known it wasn't Y/N because while CarrieAnn's eyes were similar, they were no where near as gorgeous as JJ found Y/N's. So when CarrieAnn pulled JJ down for a kiss after pretending to whisper something in his ear, JJ had honestly thought it was Y/N.

Until Y/N grabbed him by his collar and yanked him back.

"How could you?" She screams, taking a look at him. Kiara and Sarah are behind her, mouths open in shock. JJ loved Y/N, everyone could see it; so why was he kissing someone else? the hurt in her voice makes him hurt as well, but he's too drunk to realize why she was so upset.

"Wha," JJ starts, turning drunkenly between CarrieAnn and Y/N. "I thought," Y/N lifts her head in understanding, but underneath it still stings like a dagger to her heart. JJ shouldn't have been drunk enough to think she was someone else anyway. He had promised to cut back when they started dating, and so far he had. Even at other parties, he hadn't gotten fully drunk around her.

"Who's this?" CarrieAnn finally steps up, taking a hold of JJ's arm. He shrugs it off, looking at her with confusion. He honestly can't even remember why he had been around Carrie in the first place.

"My girlfriend." He walks forward to Y/N, but she takes a step back, holding a hand up.

"You just kissed another girl." She whispers, backing up a couple more steps. Tears flood in her eyes, her beautiful eyes, and JJ would do anything to take them away.

"I thought she was you." JJ says as he moves forward, confirming Y/N's thoughts. She had figured as much, but it only made the hurt of him kissing someone else marginally easier to bear.

"Because you're drunk." She whispers, as if it's not obvious to everyone that he had been pouring himself half a handle.

"I'm sorry," He finally says, tears starting to spring to his own eyes.

"Let's talk about it when you're sober." She turns, happy that Kiara and Sarah are right there for her, waiting to take her into their arms and away from the party. She leans on them, letting them take her to Kie's car where they'll all go back to Y/N's house.

"Wait!" He calls, but he knows that even if they heard him over the sound of the music, she's not coming back. He deflates as Pope and John B come up to him.

"Dude," Pope starts, frowning. They had seen everything go down, but they were powerless to help; they all knew that stepping in would only make things worse.

"Don't worry, man." John B puts an arm around his friend, and the three of them start walking toward the Chateau. "I've done way stupider things, and Sarah and I are still together." As if that's supposed to comfort JJ. By the raise of Pope's eyebrow, he doesn't think it was a great thing to say either.

The next day, JJ had tried to go to Y/N's house, but she wasn't around. It wasn't until he walked around the whole house that he realized she was on vacation.

Shit.

He calls her immediately, still on her porch. She picks up quicker than he expected, and he's thankful for it.

"Hello?" It sounds nice enough, but it isn't her usual greeting and it upsets JJ. Usually, she's so excited to get a call from him that she can barely shut up long enough for him to tell her what he needed to.

"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night. She kissed me, and I honestly did think she was you. I didn't realize until you pulled me back. I was so drunk, I could barely stand. And I know it's not an excuse, but if you could just forgive me and give me another chance, it'll never happen again. I swear to God." He's begging, he knows he is, but he'll do anything to make it right.

"That's the thing, JJ," She starts, and his heart drops because he has no idea what the thing is. "You're always apologizing for getting drunk. I mean, you've seen what it does to your father, and you still chose to abuse it! I don't mind you having fun and drinking, but," She takes a deep breath as her words get softer with more emotion, and JJ feels like the world has just spun off it's axis. He collapses into one of her patio chairs, heart racing to the point of pain. "If you're so drunk you can't distinguish your girlfriend from another girl, then maybe you shouldn't have one." She tells him, and he could just throw up at her words.

"I know but Y/N,"

"No buts, JJ! Are you gonna get your act together or not?" She's giving him a chance, letting him pick the easy way out or the hard way to her.

"I'll try." Is the best he can do, but clearly it isn't good enough for Y/N. He doesn't want to lie, however, and he can't make a promise that he doesn't fully know he can keep.

"There is no try in this situation, JJ! You either get a handle on your problem or you lose me." It's very clear that she isn't budging, and JJ shuts his eyes as he feels them water.

"You don't understand!" He begins pulling at his hair, quickly losing his temper. "Yeah, I know how my dad ruined my life with it. I know how he drove away my mom and I know how he fucked himself and me over. But it's not as simple as knowing that. I just, I have so much anxiety, and it helps numb."

"I understand that, Jayj. I can help you-"

"You can't!" He yells, and she just widens her eyes from the other side of the line. He knows he should just shut up, calm down and talk to her later, but his mouth is moving before he can stop it. "You don't understand because life is like walking down the yellow brick road for you!" He was about to say more before he stops himself, knowing that he's already said enough. He knows that life hasn't been like walking on sunshine for her, that she's told him about her mental issues and her struggles with different experiences.

"Goodbye, JJ." She tells him.

"No, wait! I didn't mean that-" He starts, but the dial tone sounds and he knows its over. And the worst part is, he's sober. He has no one, nothing to blame but himself for this one.

When she hears a motorcycle go past her house again, it's a late night. It's actually an early morning; two am. She has to know now, needs to see if the person riding their motorcycle past her house every single night is JJ, and if he has anyone else. Namely that girl that looks like her, but it would hurt just as much if it were anyone else.

When she looks out her window, JJ Maybank is stopped in the middle of the street, staring at her house. Her heart gets caught in her throat as she stares from the darkness. She runs down the stairs as fast as she can, hoping he doesn't leave by the time she can get out there. She flies out the door, catching JJ's attention as she sprints across the grass.

"Hey," She whispers, slowing as she reaches him. He just stares at her, his helmetless face betraying all his emotions in the light of the street lamp. She wants to tell him to put on a helmet, but she's sure that's not a good starting point.

"What are you doing out here?" He asks, turning off his motorcycle. He puts the kickstand down and pulls his leg across it to stand. They're staring at each other in the silence, Y/N panting while JJ's heart races in a way that has nothing to do with exercise.

"I wish I would have told you that I love you on the phone." Her admission still makes his heart pound, and he's stunned into silence. "I didn't mean to hang up the phone, I swear. There was so much I wanted to say to you, but I couldn't because of how angry I was. And all I can think about is if I wouldn't have hung up, if I would have just let you explain yourself and if you would have let me express myself, then we would still be together. You know we would still be together." What she says is so true that it makes JJ have to swallow down his emotion.

"It's my fault." He tells her, heart breaking at the way she's taking responsibility for something she didn't even do. "I'm the one who messed up, and I didn't mean to say all those things. I was just so upset and I didn't trust myself." He knows it's a shitty excuse, but for some reason, she puts her hand on his face and tilts his head so he's looking at her.

"We're both sorry. We'll both try to be more understanding." She says, moving even closer until their bodies are touching.

"I love you too." He says before she can apologize or brush off anything else. "And I'm sorry that I ever made you feel like I didn't." He barely finishes talking before her lips are on his, and he smiles as he puts his hands on her hips and pulls her in closer.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx imagine

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shadowbunnydragon · 11 months

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The Keyhole Halloween Special!

Oh wow! Heyo, folks! It's been a while since I had any updates for this story! I've been thinking about The Door/Keyhole a lot lately, and I've decided to finally get back to it. Specifically, to finish off the trilogy! The final story in this series will be called The Key! Not sure just when I'll be writing it, as I have a LOT to review from the previous two stories. That being said, all this thinking about it got me in the spirit to write this little Halloween Special! Nothing fancy, just a cute little peek into how various characters are celebrating my favorite time of the year! It just felt so odd and nostalgic to come back to these characters after so long! I hope you guys like it!

The Keyhole Halloween Special

ShadowBunnyDragon

"Okay, do you have your phone?" Judy asked, smiling up at her son. She was wearing an orange sweater and simple blue jeans. Eli was currently dressed in his ZPD costume, blushing a little while he rubbed the back of his head.

"Yep. And I made sure that it's fully charged," the human boy said, holding up said phone for emphasis.

"You worry too much, Carrots." Nick casually sauntered his way over to them near the front door. Looking out the window, he could see that dusk was inching closer, his ears picking up the sounds of chatter and shrieks from excited kits outside. He was wearing a gray sweater to help ward off the chill, at least until his winter coat would grow in, as well as a pair of brown slacks. "He'll be just fine." He gave Eli a wink along with his smirk.

Ignoring her mate, Judy looked up at her son with wide violet eyes. "I trust you, sweetie," she said while reaching up to give him a hug, that he was quick to return.

"I promise, we'll be safe, Mom." Eli smiled while leaned down and held his bunny mother. Sometimes, when he would first wake up in the morning, the human boy would feel dejected. His sleep-addled mind assumed that coming to Zootopia, meeting Judy and Nick and all his new family and friends, had all just been a happy dream. But the joy he would experience once the cobwebs from the previous night were quickly shaken off and realize that it was no dream, was a feeling he was unable to put into words. Just as they let go, that's when the doorbell rang. Opening the door for his much shorter parents, Eli grinned at the sight of his friends.

"Trick or Treat, bud!" Big Mike called out from atop Isaac's headfur. The mouse boy was dressed as a vampire, complete with a cape. "I vant to suck your blood, blegh!"

"You know," Isaac said, the coyote boy was wearing a dark trench coat over a suit and tie, with a pair of sunglasses on as well. "The vampire bat who played the original Batcula, Bela Desmodus, had a tic that caused him to make that blegh noise."

"What are you supposed to be again?" The deep baritone of Darryl asked. Eli looked down to see the chinchilla boy wrapped in gauze, yet still wearing his aviators.

Isaac rolled his eyes before pretending to speak into his lapel. "I'm a government agent! My job is to find and erase all evidence of aliens, catsquaches, and the paranormal in general, and make any and all witnesses disappear." He held up his paws and wiggled his claws in a spooky fashion.

It was then that Eli spotted Adam, who was standing a little in the back, wearing a costume very similar to Mike's. Seeing Eli's eyes alight on him, the adolescent elephant winced and nodded. "Yeah, apparently me and Mike both decided to go as Batcula tonight," he mumbled.

"I told you that it's okay, Adam," Mike said, turning to speak to the pachyderm. "Next time, whenever costumes are involved, we all know to call each other now."

"Not that that would stop someone." Isaac giggled, only to be silenced by Mike tugging on his headfur. Eli was a little confused by that, but didn't have long to ponder it.

"Hey, Eli," Chuck mumbled while munching on a Whoseawhatsit bar. The snacking cougar boy had his fur dyed gray with green painted veins visible, with a fake bloody bite mark on his shoulder, visible through a hole torn in his white t-shirt. Overall, his zombie costume was simple, yet well-executed. He grinned at the human boy, some fake blood slathered going down his chin. "Ready for the best night of the year?"

"You bet!"

Judy stood there, watching her son excitedly converse with his friends, struck by the contrast of how he was when she and Nick had first met him. Scared, alone, hurt, and somewhat withdrawn into himself. A warmth spread through her chest, that only grew in intensity when she felt her mate slip his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. The fox's muzzle parted her ears as he rested his jaw on her head, his tail curling around her feet.

"I think it's safe to say that he's come out of his shell." Nick's smooth voice was too low for Eli or his friends to hear, but Judy heard him perfectly. She resisted the urge to turn in his arms and bury her face in the soft fur of his neck and simply nodded.

"I'm just so proud of how far he's come," she quietly replied.

"Me too... he really is a strong kit."

"He's our strong kit." Judy turned and kissed the corner of Nick's mouth before they broke apart.

"What do you think?" Ned and Ted asked in unison. The two black bears were wearing a single flannel shirt that covered both of them, with both of their heads poking out of the neck hole. Ned's left arm was sticking out of the left sleeve, and Ted's right arm was being used for the right sleeve.

"That's a pretty cool idea, guys." Eli smiled, fighting back a giggle at the twins' antics. The two ursine were beaming with pride before a white tigress hopped in front of them. Kimi was also wearing a costume ZPD uniform, and struck a pose as she whipped out a fake ticket book.

"Ready to hit the streets, partner?" Kimi purred, her black and white striped tail swishing mischievously.

"Oh wow, Kimi, we both picked the same kind of costume!" Eli spoke, completely oblivious to the looks his friends, as well as his parents, were giving him.

"Yeah, what a coincidence," Isaac snickered, before a sharp tug on his headfur from Mike got him to settle back down.

"I think it really suits you, Eli," Lyla said while slipping in between him and Kimi. The zebra girl was wearing a pirate costume, complete with an eyepatch and a plastic cutlass. Eli blushed and looked away.

"Th-thanks, Lyla. Your costume l-looks really great too." Kimi pouted and crossed her arms, shooting a snickering Isaac a pointed look. Looking on, Judy struggled not to gush at the cuteness of the sight, squeezing Nick's paws with her own. The fox tod smirked at first... and then quickly suppressed a yip of pain as he forgot how strong his bunny's grip could be when she wasn't being careful.

"Alright, kids," Nick said, wincing a little as he managed to manually disengage the vice that were Judy's paws and step forward. "You all have fun tonight. Don't stay out too late, and remember to be safe."

The group of young mammals thanked Eli's parents and started to trickle away, with Eli being the last to leave.

"Thanks, Mom," Eli said, bending down again to give Judy another hug, which she was quick to return. When they let go, Nick found it was his turn. "Thanks, D-dad. I love you."

"We love you too, buddy. Now, don't keep your friends waiting." As Nick said this, he could sense that Judy was filming them with her phone, most likely ready to send it off along with all the pictures she had no doubt stealthily snapped of Eli in his costume off to various friends and family. With one last squeeze, the smiling human boy let go of his fox father and turned to jog to catch up to aforementioned friends. Judy and Nick watched from the open door, seeing the young tigress slip her arm around Eli's and start tugging him closer, her voice drifting over on the gentle October breeze saying that it was already chilly tonight. Nick chuckled as he watched Lyla take Eli's other arm in her own and agree.

"Poor guy still has no idea, does he?" Nick asked while closing the door.

"I thought about bringing it up with him." Judy grunted while she carried the big bowl of candy to set on the small table near the front door. Her smaller gray paw darted out to gently slap the red one that had tried to swipe some of the candy. "That's for the Trick-or-Treaters, Slick," she said, waving a finger in her face.

Nick chuckled and held up both paws defensively. "Can't blame a tod for trying." Judy rolled her eyes, missing Nick tucking the three little boxes od Dorks he had swiped with his other paw up his sleeves.

Meanwhile...

"Trick or Treat!" Sarah practically sang it as she stood on the stoop in her bright blue princess costume, looking up at the chuckling female lioness with her bright brown eyes. Her big brothers, Elijah and Elliott were standing on either side of her, Elijah dressed as Ironmammal, and Elliott as Doctor Odd. Nearby, Emmitt and Olivia watched their pups weaponizing the combined efforts of making their eyes as wide as possible, definitely getting larger pawfuls of candy as a result.

"She might not be an otter, but our little princess sure has gotten the hang of the 'Otter Eyes'," Emmitt remarked.

"I thought that it was called the Puppy-Eyes," Olivia said, feeling her husband intertwine their tails. Emmitt took a moment to clean his glasses, beaming at the joy on their pups' faces as they excitedly ran back, Elijah and Elliott now riding on their baby sister's shoulders.

"Mommy! Daddy! We've already got lots of candy!" The little brown-skinned furless mammal was hopping from foot to foot in pure joy.

"You sure have, Princess." Emmitt saw that their little plastic pumpkins were already almost at halfway full, and this was only the fifth house that they'd hit on their street. Internally he was grateful that Olivia had thought to bring some empty pillowcases to pour the candy hauls into. "Let's go on over to Mr. Hornsburger's house next." He motioned to the next house in line, this one with little plastic headstones planted in the front yard, with a large plastic bear skeleton strewn between them. Nearing the open gate for the white picket fence, Sarah stopped, a troubled look on her face.

"Something wrong, honey?" Olivia asked, looking up at her daughter in concern.

"Uhm... the skeleton's kinda spooky, Mommy." Sarah was hugging her pumpkin bucket to her chest.

"Don't worry, Sarah," Elijah piped up, his voice sounding a bit tinny as it came out of the speaker in the mouth of his plastic armor. He stood proudly on her shoulder, striking a heroic pose, one that Elliott was quick to imitate.

"Yeah," Elliott squeaked, swishing his high-collared cape. "Ironmammal and Doctor Odd will protect you!"

"... Uhm... okay," Sarah's face broke out into a happy grin that, despite missing a couple of teeth, was bright enough to practically light up the street. Emboldened by her big brothers, Sarah stood up straight and marched down the paved walkway towards the front door. She slowed a little as they neared the skull of the skeleton, but kept moving. A motion sensor in it was triggered, and the eyes glowed red before it let out a roar. Sarah shrieked and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. Olivia watched her reach up to ring the doorbell, and crossed her arms.

"That seems a little too spooky for little pups," she huffed. Emmitt nodded in agreement, but was happy regardless.

"Maybe, but I think the pups are making Mr. Hornsburger pay for it." As they watched, it was clear that their children were using the same trick as the one from the last house. The middle-aged rhino seemed completely caught off-guard before scooping out some large handfuls of candy for the awaiting buckets. "With interest, it would seem." Olivia wrapped her tail around her husband's and leaned into him.

At that moment...

"Enjoy braving the terrors from beyond," Chaz said, speaking in a deep and spooky voice. The timber wolf was dressed like Freddy Cougar, waving with his knife glove at the group of mammals that entered the entrance of the haunted house behind him.

"We're doing pretty well so far." Arnie, whose costume was that of Barkenstein's Monster, walked over, having gotten a fresh roll of admission tickets. "I think we'll be able to hit the goal for Mayor Snow's new human refugee center well before midnight."

"I still can't believe the Chief actually agreed to this," Chaz said this under his breath before putting on his spooky voice for the next group that walked up to their table. His tail started to wag when he recognized the couple holding paws. "Well, look who it is!"

Baily and Sophia were both blushing, the red-headed human man seeming a little flustered, until the lioness started to rest her head on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak when a loud voice interrupted him.

"Yes, yes, I know," Leodore Lionheart said while brushing past Baily and Sophia, a lioness in his own age range on his arm, a large politician's grin plastered on his muzzle. "No one expects to run into the former mayor, especially at a charity haunted house, but please, gentlemammals, I'm just an ordinary citizen like yourselves. There's no need to make a fuss over me."

The rhino and wolf officers shared a look but elected to say nothing. "Uh... okay, welcome to the ZPD's haunted house. All proceeds go to char--" Chaz found himself cut off by the pompous feline.

"Ah yes, the human recollection center! Had I still been in office when they'd started popping up, I would have happily set in motion a program just like it. We'll take four tickets, my good sirs. One for me and my special lady friend here," Leodore purred as he said this, leaning down and whispering something in the lioness' ear. She giggled and lightly swatted his shoulder. As Baily and Sophia watched her aunt flirting with her latest beau, the two were finding it hard not to cringe. "And for Barry and Sophie here. You could say that we're here on a double-date." He flashed the younger couple a wink, prompting the two to look at Arnie and Chaz with twin pleading looks in their eyes.

"Right away, Mr. Lionheart." Arnie quietly chortled, trying to disguise it as a coughing fit. He smiled sympathetically to the pair while accepting the money Leodore had tossed onto the table, tearing off four tickets in exchange.

"Actually," Chaz mused, his tail wagging again, "this whole charity was organized by Mr. Andrew Harcourt, the human whose boat crashed ashore a few months ago."

"You don't say?" Leodore started to scratch his chin, looking thoughtful. "I may have to introduce myself to this young up-and-comer. Maybe see how he would feel about running with me as my new assistant mayor. But, that's a plan for tomorrow. Tonight, we'll see how scary this haunted house actually is. C'mon Benji, Sophia. Let's see who gets startled first."

Baily and Sophia waited for the double doors to close behind Lionheart before they smiled at Arnie and Chaz.

"So how scary is it?" Baily asked.

"Chief Bogo is in a creepy clown costume, slowly stalking the halls in his section," Chaz explained.

"Oooh, ordinarily he's a rather large and... imposing mammal," Shophia chimed in.

"That's putting it mildly," Arnie snorted. "I think he was really excited for tonight." Just as Bailey and Sophia were getting ready to head in, out came a loud, high-pitched shriek. The doors were thrown open, and Leodore came sprinting out, passing right by Bailey and Sophia and the table, almost bowling over a group of costumed mammals.

"NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THERE BEING ANY CLOWNS!!!"

Elsewhere...

"Oh, Renato!" Lily set the bowl of candy she had been holding down on the coffee table, her heart skipping a beat as the large black jaguar entered from the kitchen, also carrying a bowl, this full to the brim with freshly popped popcorn.

"Yes, mi amor?" He purred, taking a seat at the couch. Lily cuddled up to him and pressed Play on the remote, resuming their Halloween Horror Movie Marathon. On the tv, Malevolent Deceased 2 started to pick up from where they had left off.

"You should have seen them! So many cute children with just the CUTEST little gray fox kit riding around on a sweet older human boy's shoulders! All the kids tonight have just been so adorable!" Lily gushed, before composing herself. Renato began to chuckle, it tapering off as he began to look pensive.

"Is something wrong?" Lily asked.

"... Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Before you came to Zootopia... had you ever considered... having children?"

"Oh." Lily looked away, fiddling with the sleeve of her white sweater. "Well... yes, I had... but with h-how... with how m-my marriage was... I think on some level, I knew that bringing any child into that situation wouldn't have been fair to them. So I... just pushed the thought out of my head..."

"I see." Renato felt like he could kick himself for asking such a question. Feeling that he had ruined the mood for their movie marathon, he opened his mouth to apologize for bringing it up, when Lily continued.

"But... I... w-well..." She was now wringing her hands a little, looking away. "I... would like to become a mother one day."

Renator felt a warmth in his chest.

"I'd like to... have a cub or two myself," he confessed. "But... with the scar... I'm afraid I might be a bit too... scary..."

"Nonsense," Lily said, startling the jaguar. "I've seen how you dote on your nieces and nephews. And getting to know you, I've seen firsthand that you are one of the sweetest, gentlest, and cuddliest mammals I have ever met." Renato was grateful that his dark fur could hide the blush he felt. He almost jumped a little when he felt her hand come to rest on his. Looking over, he saw that Lily was looking at him, the sad expression gone, replaced by one radiating joy.

"I think you'd make an amazing father, Marshmallow." He smiled at the embarrassing term of endearment that had seemed to stick.

"I think you'd be a wonderful mother, my Water Lily," he said. Their lips met, with the kiss ending just as the main character of the movie started to fire up a chainsaw.

In Savannah Central...

"Halloween... a night for costumes and candy and smiling happy kits. At least, that's what it looks like on the surface. But underneath the family friendly veneer, beats the dark heart of the underbelly. Tonight is when that darkness likes to float up to the surface. And we, this city's stoic sentinels, are charged with keeping chaos and anarchy from running rampant in the streets."

"I can see why the Chief wasn't too keen on the idea of you wearing your Batbun costume tonight," the human officer chuckled while his diminutive partner furrowed his brow. The two were presently on parking duty, wearing their meter maid vests and hats.

"Oh come on," Jack said, hopping down from the truck in front of the expired meter, having just tucked a ticket under the windshield wiper. "It'd look a lot better than this dayglow vest! Plus, as my side-kick, you could dress up as Sparrow!"

"I don't think so, Jack." Walter printed out a ticket for a mouse-sized SUV that was somehow parked in two average-sized handicapped mammal parking spaces at once. "Well now this just seems intentional."

"Yeah, the nerve of some mammals," Jack said, leaning down to check the license plate as well as to look inside. "No handicap plate, and not even one of those little hangey-things you put up in the rearview window."

"They're called disability placard holders, partner." Walter printed out a tiny ticket, and very gently tucked it under the wipers.

"I still can't believe that Bogo's still got us doing parking duty though!" Jack huffed and pouted, his foot starting to tap in annoyance. "We should be out there, getting into chases, slapping the cuffs on some perps, bagging evidence!"

"Hey now, a boring night is a good night when on the beat," Walter explained, seeing the smaller mammal rolling his eyes. "Besides, keeping new officers on parking duty for a few months is a great way to help get them familiarized with the city, as well as with dealing with less than friendly citizens. Most police work is actually pretty boring, and other times you're dealing with people who are not having a great day. Parking duty can also help weed out the officers who can't handle that aspect of the job."

"... So what you're saying is... we're being tested!" Jack was tapping his chin as he spoke.

"Yep."

"... Got it!" As Jack began to strut along with a newfound confidence, Walter felt a pit of worry start to form in his gut.

"Wait... Jack, what are you thinking?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, if that little country bunny could make a huge bust like she did with that little Nighthowler incident and become a hero, then how hard can it be for a couple of smart mammals like us?" Jack rested his fists on his hips, striking a heroic pose.

"Didn't that 'little incident' revolve around a large conspiracy involving several high ranking political figures?"

"Only, like, three or four officials other than that crazy ewe," Jack said, waving a dismissive paw. "... And around thirty other mammals, including a couple officers, after everyone was rounded up." He mumbled that last part under his breath.

"Uh-huh... and you think we're going to make an even bigger arrest than that before we've even finished our stint in parking duty?" Walter had become an expert eye-roller since being partnered with Jack.

"Well we've gotta because this is just dull." Jack threw his paws up at that in exasperation.

"Parking duty is also a great way to help some of the more excitable of the new officers help curb some excess energy." A feminine voice wafted over to the pair. Looking towards the source, they saw a pair of mammals that the partners had become more familiar with since joining the ZPD. Nadine Wolford-Fangmeyer came to a stop just short of the pair, with Ralph right beside her. The gray wolf was pushing a stroller, with a happily babbling little Rosalie inside. The human baby was cooing and looking all around with wide green eyes, sparkling with excitement and curiosity. She was also wearing a wolf footed onesie with the soft faux fur the same coloration as Ralph's.

"Well hey there, you two," Walter said, walking up and crouching down to tickle Rosie's feet. She squealed in delight and clumsily clapped her little hands. "And hi there, cutie."

"Hey guys, working a late shift?" Ralph snickered behind his paw. "I take it that someone annoyed Chief Bogo today?" At that, all eyes turned to stare at a certain hare, including Rosie's. The baby looked from Jack to her little stuffed bunny and giggled.

"Hey now, that warthog was looking real sketchy, and I thought he was throwing up gang signs. When he kept making more of them when I tried to question him... well, I thought he was being confrontational... how was I supposed to know he was deaf?" Jack looked defensive, his ears drooping as Walter sighed.

"I do know some sign language... though I've never seen hooves being used to speak it before. But anyways, from what I could tell, that guy was aggressively trying to dispute the ticket Jack gave his car." Jack looked vindicated at that. "But still... yeah, the chief wasn't happy that he kept theorizing that the guy was part of some kind of counterfeit turnip operation which... I'm not even sure how he got to that conclusion."

"The pieces were all there!" Jack huffed and crossed his arms, his ears drooping again. Trying not to laugh, the other three officers changed the subject.

"So... uh... Rosie's been having such a fun first Halloween," Ralph said, his tail rapidly becoming a happy blur, quickly whipping out his phone to show off the pictures in the different costumes they had tried on her.

"And there's been a significant drop in mammals asking if she's a little tiger or wolf cub that just has a condition to cause her fur to not grow in," Nadine said, leaning down to check and check on her little girl.

"Mama!" Rosie shrieked, reaching up for her. The tigress purred and happily complied, passing along the candy bucket to a surprised Jack. He set the jack-o-lantern bucket down on the stoop of the apartment complex they were standing in front of, vaguely aware of the gaggle of small children from multiple species milling at the door. A young giraffe girl dressed like a ballerina reached up to press a button, only for the door to swing open a second later. Out came a lynx wearing a skeleton costume with a plastic cauldron of candy.

"MWAHAHAHAHA! Take a pawful, if you daaaaaaaaaare!" he said in a spooky voice. The kids all found this silly and thanked him, each reaching up to grab some for themselves, quickly scurrying away. Jack was mulling over possible crimes he and Walter could check for while on parking duty, when a shadow loomed over him from behind. The lynx in the skull mask smiled and patted the confused hare on the head. "Here you go, little guy." The big cat dropped some candy into the plastic bucket Jack had been given before walking away. Jack felt a blush on his ears, ready to tell that guy off. Then he saw that one of the candies was a 3 Catketeers bar, and decided to let it slide for tonight.

Heyo! Be sure to keep an eye out for my final installment in The Door series, The Key! And have a Happy Halloween! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

#zootopia #human #adoption #foundfamily #comedy #family #judy hopps #nick wilde

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romanshomeonwattpad · 4 months

Text

Girl in New York | 2

pairings - art donaldson/reader | challengers au! |

“_ _" = Y/N

next chapter| masterslist | last chapter

sypnosis - things with Art begin to pick up.

warnings - future smut, angst, cheating, smut next chapter omg

word count - 2k

Art and Patrick had seemed to get along too well.

With your arms crossed, clearly irritated, Art and your cousin were reminiscing old times. As soon as the two reconnected, they hadn’t stop talking since. Chuckling and playing with each others balls. All the same. Standing in the sun made you thirsty, so instead of being ignored, you picked up the dignity on the ground you had left and went to buy a water bottle from the stand.

Rolling your eyes behind your sunglasses, you mentally cursed out your cousin. He was a social butterfly—so he knew practically everybody somehow. And when he ended up in a convo, it would at least half an hour for reality to him himself. But at the same time, he was a fantastic smoking buddy.

“What can I get you?” A boy with pretty brown eyes sends you a charming smile. Your fingers drum against the counter, biting on your bottom lip. A smirk is held back as you notice his eyes flicker to your breasts, grateful you decided to wear a low cut black crop top.

“Hi….” you pull down your sunglasses, spotting his name tag. His name was printed in bold red letters, which matched his red polo uniform top.

“…Chris. Just a water is fine,” you say in a slight flirty tone, pulling your phone out from your purse. It was too hot to put inside your bra, and it would’ve been all sweaty and gross. “Do you accept Apple Pay?”

He shakes his head, “It’s on the house. Here,” he hands you the water, winking. You send him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, handsome. A face like yours deserves a tip.”

“Your number sounds good too,” he flirts back, causing you to giggle. You noticed a tattoo hidden behind his ear, an arrow with vines growing around it. And to match the vibe, a stud on the left side of his nose.

You hum, “Hm. Always had a thing for bad boys. Gimme your phone.”

It was almost hilarious how quickly he pulled out his cell from his back jeans pocket. You had to place a hand over your mouth to refrain from laughing, quickly putting your number into his phone. As you were typing the final digits, you look away from the phone to see your cousin.

“Jesus Christ….stop thotting it up and let’s play ball,” Patrick groans as he approaches you two, Art following behind him. Apparently they were finished conversating, but that wasn’t what stood out to you. What did was the fact that Art was staring down the kid Chase…Chad—whatever his name was.

His usually crystal clear eyes were brewing up a storm, a gray hue taking over his orbs. His lips were in a firm line, and when you handed his phone back to him and blew him a kiss, Art’s upper lip twitched. It was subtle—but you noticed. You noticed everything.

Screwing open your water bottle, you took a sip as Patrick nudged Art on the shoulder. “_ _ told me you’re still with Tiff,” he states as the three of you walk back into the court. “How are things going with her? Still a raging bitch?”

Art chuckles, shaking his head as he took a particularly large gulp from his hydro flask. You watched with attentive eyes as he screwed his cap back on, “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just call my girlfriend a bitch. And we’re doing fine—thanks.”

“Sorry, man.” Patrick sheepishly smiles, “Why don’t you come to this outing with us on Sunday night. It’s downtown at some club. Bring your girlfriend and we’ll meet you guys there.”

Way to go, Pat. Sounds like he wasn’t a cockblock after all. But it did scare you a bit when you noticed the pondering look on Art’s face. His features were tight, his pearly white teeth catching his lower lip. It almost looked cute—how conflicted he was almost made you anxious.

Patrick sensed his second thoughts. “How about this. 1 V 1. If I win, your ass better show up.”

Like you said, it was hard for anyone to say no to Patrick.

Art glanced at you, and when you only sent him a smirk, he released a deep sigh before giving in.

“Deal.”

Pat had to leave in the middle of practice. Something came up with work—he was a dj for this club back in East Boston. He always loved music, and was jotting down lyrics, so it made sense he was working in that field.

Wiping your forehead with your personal towel, you watched as Art lifted his shirt over his head and dried his abs. Your mouth almost fell open, his slick muscles contracting as fresh air hit them. His upper body was tan, but as it grew closer to his lower region, the skin turned into an untouched milky section of flesh. Yellow fibers of hair trailed down beneath his shorts, making you poke out your tongue and lick your lips hungrily.

His blonde strands fell over his eyes. “You’re getting better.”

“I have a good teacher,” you tease, but he didn’t smile, snorting instead. “How many students do you have.”

“Just you and another girl.”

Another girl? Interesting. “Is she pretty?”

“I have a girlfriend, _ _.”

“And she’s where? C’mon, you can tell me,” you cooed, putting back on your shades. Popping another lollipop into your mouth, this time blueberry flavor, his eyes flickered to your lips.

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but as your tongue swirled around the top of the candy ball—he cleared his throat instead. You batted your lashes as you hummed at his silence.

“Hm?”

“She’s cute, I guess.” He muttered, not even hiding the fact he was looking at your lips as if he had was starved.

You tilted your head, eyes flying down to his crotch. Behind his dark blue shorts was a bulge forming. It dented against the fabric. “That guy I talked to—he was super cute. Might bring him to the party,” you thought aloud, making him stiffen his shoulders. “What do you think of him?”

He looked away from you, jaw clenched.

“Not my business.”

“All I’m asking for is an opinion.”

“It’s not like we’re friends,” he snapped coldly, sending you narrowed eyes. Ice had taken over those once clear orbs, and it felt like he had grown distant within a second. You swallowed thickly as he snatched snatched bag off the chair.

“I have to go. Later.”

What’s his deal?

“I just don’t understand you, _ _. We paid for these classes and now you’re failing them because of these stupid tennis lessons.” Your mother then released an exasperated sigh, rubbing her forehead as your father throws down your latest report card. He continued, “Two B’s and one C. You used to be a straight A student!”

You furrowed your brows, hating those words. Your gut dropped. “Dad, please. I’ll get my gra—“

“You’re going to be a surgeon, not a tennis player.” Your mother pointed a stern finger at you. This is the angriest you had ever seen her. Usually she would be the one to call down your father, but this time, they were both hounding you. When it came to grades, they stressed because they prioritized money for school. Your school.

Your father had came from his home country when he was a teenager on a visa, and grew a business in the end. He worked very hard to supply you with the food and shelter you needed, and it was a miracle public school was free. But as you got older, his business flourished, and he could put more of his income towards your nursing classes.

To become a nurse was always his idea. Ever since you had been born, he pinned that title on you. Your mother agreed because she learned it made you a lot of money.

“This isn’t fair. It’s once a week.”

“And so are your in person classes, and they’re on Tuesdays.”

“Let me ask him if I can change the day,” you begged your parents, putting a sweet tone behind your voice. Your father wasn’t budging—but your mother nodded and held your father’s hand as if to say it’s fine. But he didn’t want to let you off that easily.

“If he can’t change the day, cancel the lessons.”

His words nerve wrecked you. But it should’ve been fine. The only problem was—you didn’t have his number.

“Hey, Pat. Give me Art’s number.”

You heard him laugh through the phone, “Hey to you too, bitch. And stalker much?”

Rolling your eyes, you continued styling your hair whilst looking in the mirror. The speaker on your phone broke out for a second before you responded. “I need to ask him something. It can’t wait until next week. Just—please.”

“He didn’t give it to you?”

“What are you? His personal body guard? Give me the damn number, Pat.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll text it to you rn.”

You smiled in triumph, unplugging the bedazzled black straightener before snatching your cell from the counter. Without letting Pat know you’d call him later, you simply hung up on him, clicking the contact he sent. After pressing the call button—it proceeded to ring. Then his voice sounded.

“….Hello?” Ugh. It was his girlfriend.

This was going to be weird. “Uh, hey. Is Art around?”

“He ’s in the shower. I can give him a message.”

Bitch.

Whatever. “Cool. Unless he can change our usual Wednesday and Thursday schedule—my dad wants me to cancel my lessons. So I need his response like ASAP.”

“Of course I can tell him. Who is this?”

“_ _ Smith.”

There was a silence, and then her voice rang in the phone. “I’ll let him know.”

The phone clicked.

In the incoming week, you received a text from him.

Hey, it’s Art. I’m sorry but I can’t readjust my schedule. It was nice working with you. Let me know if you’re ever interested in working with me again!

Oh.

It looks like he really didn’t like you.

It wasn’t surprising, but for some odd reason—this one hurt a little. And instead of pushing you to chase him a bit more, you retracted away all together. He had made it clear he wasn’t interested in you at all. At this point, to keep pining after him would shatter all shards of dignity you have left.

Today was Sunday. You contemplated on even going, but Patrick would literally decapitate you. It’s his last night out and you promised to go out with him at least once when his trip rolled around. But you weren’t in the mood to party. You didn’t feel sexy enough.

This was all supposed to be a fun game. And now it’s turning into a nightmare.

You really didn’t think he meant it when he said you two weren’t friends. Was he trying to keep a professional relationship for the sake of his girlfriend? You didn’t imagine the friendly moments between the two of you. The fleeting glances, hidden stares. Lingering touches when passing the hydros.

Blowing out the cigarette, you leaned on Pat’s shoulder as he wrote lyrics down on his notepad. He slightly hummed to his own melody. “You’re fucking indie ass is going back in two days. I fucking hate you,” you mutter, causing him to gasp before laughing out loud. “Can I go inside your suitcase? I wanna leave here soooo bad Patty cakes.”

“I fucking hate that nickname, but love that top on you.” He gestured to the cropped forest green sweater you were wearing. It balanced perfectly well with your high-waisted leather black skirt.

“Is it giving slutty?”

“Gross.”

“Perfect.”

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #donaldson #tashi donaldson #patrick zweig challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers smut #challengers #mike faist smut #mike faist fanfic #mike faist fic #mike faist #faist smut #faist

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oonajaeadira · 2 years

Text

I’ll Never Fall In Love Again: Scene 5: You May Now Kiss the Bride

Fandom: The Bubble

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: none. A little rusty wordcraft after some time away.

A/N: This one’s a bit longer, stuffed with a bunch of half memories and a swirl of rushed, weighty moments. I could have split this one in two but didn’t really want to. It should be a whirlwind, and for that, I do not apologize.

The intimacy coordinator doesn’t seem to know that you and Dieter were–are–married. Not interested. No assumptions. Two actors, professional agenda, plain as that. She’s just here to do her job, and there will be no nonsense, there are boundaries, there must be consent.

“Twice, Gerard,” she chides from under her austere, German haircut, opting for Dieter’s character name, not bothering to use his real one. “No more. It is once, twice, break. Noses to the right, no tongue.”

“How about teeth?” He is trying so so hard to keep the twinkle out of his eye and the IC glares him down. He returns a self-defacing grin, meant to charm, to be submissive. “I don’t think he would invade her mouth, but I don’t think he wants to let her go, either. I mean, look at her.”

Now it’s your turn to glare.

“Justine,” she barks at you, similarly foregoing your actual name, and you jump. “You consent to this?”

“Suuuuuuure.”

“Fine. We add that in. Please add it to the notes.” She doesn’t even look over at her assistant, just places the order and moves in to point to areas on your body. “Hands can go here, here, here, and here. That is your canvas. Do not paint outside the lines. Now kiss.”

It’s hard enough to naturally execute a staged kiss with a stern woman ordering you into it. Let alone in a rehearsal room full of PAs and pop lights. Let alone with Dieter fucking Bravo and all the baggage that entails, both bitter and sweet.

But still. You’ve shared staged intimacy with him before. And muscle memory kicks in. His huge hands cupping your jaw should make your shoulders want to jump in reflexive defense. Instead, your body remembers–this posture, this gesture, this warm breath on your face, these eyes yearning after your lips–and instantly melts into its safety.

You almost forgot how his mustache tickles.

You almost forgot how he grips, his fingers fighting against his desperation, trying so hard not to bruise.

But the gentle pull of his teeth at your bottom lip, that’s new.

For him. That was always your move.

He’s gone back to the sandalwood shampoo. That’s nice. You almost forget where you are--

“Ach. No. Clumsy. Remember your light. Your nose gets in the way, Gerard. Try again.”

You hope the step back from your scene partner isn’t too fast.

Or too slow.

________

“I got a little over-zealous.” Dieter shuffled through the french doors of a large-ish bedroom, the walls covered in a riot of figures, studies in the shape of Dali’s slender women, half finished, heads like bouquets, door knobs, something slightly penile– “Was gonna repaint it, but thought you might wanna pick your own color. Home it up however you want.” The ice clinked in his whiskey glass as he spun toward the floor-to-ceiling blinds to push them open, revealing a nice little balcony looking up over Dixie Valley toward the scrubby hills. He tilted his head back for a second to let his sunglasses shield him from the sun that poured through, an annoyed hiss sucking through his teeth betraying a possible hangover. “Got a new mattress coming. You don’t wanna sleep on the one that was here.”

A shameless grin as he winked a red eye over his Ray Bans at you.

Morgan was right. His house was large enough. No mansion, for sure, but a sizeable place for two people; it’s far too big for one. Must have picked it for the tax write-off. You’d certainly have enough privacy.

His bedroom was on another floor–four in all, built into the hillside–and two different living room lounge areas on separate floors. You could go days without seeing each other without much effort.

“Are you sure you want me to paint over them?”

“Please,” he scoffed. “I haven’t been back in here since the acid trip that birthed these. Just like, 36 hours of fucking around and a shit ton of macaroni balls.”

He painted all of this, in all this detail, in a day? And what the hell is a macaroni ball?

“Well, then, if you really don’t mind, I guess I might get someone in here this week to get it done. I’d like to get out of my condo lease before another month comes due…”

He choked slightly on a sip of whiskey and cut the air with a splayed hand.“Wait. You’re giving up your lease?”

“Well…yeah. It doesn’t make sense to pay for something I’m not living in. I mean–”

“Don’t do that. I got it.”

You blinked. “What do you mean, ‘you’ve got it’?”

“I can cover your rent. You shouldn’t…give up your own place.”

“Oh.” An awkward silence. “I…thought I was going to live here, satisfy the requirements, keep up appearances–”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” the ice clinked again as he swung his free hand forward to find your shoulder, not sure if it was to steady himself or you. “You’re welcome to make it your home. Really. Go fucking bonkers. I just thought you’d want to keep a space that was yours. To retreat to.”

Twisting to look out through the bedroom doors into the wide open second floor living room lounge and then back again, you cocked an eyebrow. “I think I have more room here, D.”

“I mean, a space that doesn’t have,” he gestured sloppily around his head and then out toward the walls, “my aura saturating it. Like, a space that doesn’t have my ass smeared all over it.”

He didn’t laugh with you, but allowed the time to let yours pass. “I don’t mind that as long as you don’t mind me rubbing my…aura ass or…ass aura all over your house.”

That, though, yanked a half-smile out of him. “Not at all. Your ass aura is a welcome addition.”

“Good.” Dieter was a big weirdo, but his heart was in the right place. This was going to be more pleasant than you’d anticipated. A warm little breeze ruffled the curtains as you whispered a humble thanks.

“Cool. Great. Hey, mmm–” downing his whiskey and walking out of the room to the tv area of the lounge, “you wanna smoke and watch some porn?”

Ah yes. That aforementioned “aura.”

“Um, no? But…I wouldn’t mind getting high and watching Xanadu….”

That won you an eager, unchecked grin.

“Amazing.”

_________________

It started off one night by asking him to help you navigate the complicated system of streaming services and on-demand channels he had set up through an expensive all-in-one portal. He found the movie you were jonesing for and you ended up on the lounge couch with his feet in your lap while you both ugly wept over the ending of Wit.

After that, the next few weeks was an almost every-other-nightly ritual of him wandering down to the lounge, asking sheepishly if he could join you, and then a combo of one of you sprawled on the couch, the other on the floor or being lap support for feet, one of you stoned (usually him), stuffing your face with popcorn, late nights chewing over cinema history (or Dieter’s Hollywood conquest history) and player’s choice for passing out there or in your own beds.

Dieter ended up being the roommate you always wanted, one that made you realize how quiet and lonely your single-bedroom apartment had really been. Sure, he stumbled into your area more often than he’d promised, but he was always welcome. Sure, he left a wake of spilled wine and soggy popcorn and kitkat wrappers and greasy pizza boxes on the coffee table, but he also was on good terms with his cleaning lady who was able to somehow leave the place immaculate every morning, even if he was sprawled out snoring atop the mess. In and out before you woke, you had a suspicion that she was some kind of magical house brownie with eternal patience and goodwill. Every evening you shuffled off to your room leaving Dieter in a pile of bathrobe and paraphernalia, you wondered if you should drop her an offering of cookies and milk. Or, like, a crisp $100 bill.

He spent a weekend here or there off somewhere for a photo shoot or pickups for the movie he shot right before Fall of Timon that was set to come out during awards season…Hunger…something? Strike? Yes. Hunger Strike. And you, you navigated your way through a few meetings with an immigration agent and set about filling out some preliminary paperwork. Morgan helped, mostly by pulling some industry strings to pull your life sentence with Dieter down from the requisite three years.

A week to the day before the wedding, you realized how unreal it all seemed. Shouldn’t you be stressed? Planning? What were you forgetting? Everything was being taken off your plate by a high-profile wedding planner you never actually saw, so it was actually a routine day when Uri Malani’s assistant showed up at the house with a rack of a half dozen dresses out of which to choose from the designer’s upcoming line.

Weddings for actors are never the stressful affairs that they are for many people. Actors spend much of their professional lives in the spotlight, they have a plethora of opening nights on stage or wardrobed awards nights or show up twenty feet high on a big silver screen. A wedding is just another day on stage. Nothing has to be perfect because they’ve learned that anything can be improvised and still be amazing.

So the tailor session for your wedding dress was much like an at-home costume fitting; this was, after all, quite literally, just one more role to play. Except that the dress was worth $8000 and sponsored by Malani’s design house. It wouldn’t be yours to keep, but then, what would you do with a dress you’d never wear again….

….a dress that was really only a costume…for a fake-ish wedding….that you agreed to in order to further your career...not like it was for love or anything...not like it was...

“Hey. You okay?”

Dieter had come home while you were stood on top of a tailor’s box in the downstairs living room, a beautiful white silk creation cascading over your shoulders and piling in gleaming yardage around your feet. He’d taken up a seat on the far end of the room, knocked over something decorative on an end table when he propped up his feet to better support his sketch pad, using you as his personal model. “Like a fucking Venus in her seashell,” he mumbled, assessing all the white fabric.

The tailor had run out to his car to find a packet of buttons for this particular dress, leaving you to stare at yourself in the traveling full-length mirror.

Pretty. Simple. Innocent maybe. The perfect little sweetheart to tame the Hollywood beast. The reflection had replaced you with a …bride. And some deep crypt in your heart opened up. And some errant thought you once thought was dead came ambling out, attacking when you least expected it.

There in the mirror was a bride who was you and you were a bride and that bride was sobbing and beyond it should have been a Dieter kicked back in an armchair but instead there was a sketch pad laying ruffled and bent on the floor where it was dropped and your friend striding across the room wide-eyed and fingers twitching and looking about as scared as you felt–

“Hey. Hey Babycakes. Hey. What the fuck is happening here.” Suddenly he was before you, his hands wandering through the air around your elbows, stuck in two gears at once, oscillating between wanting to clutch and yet keeping a forced, respectful bubble; a man that wasn’t practiced in the art of comfort and knew it.

“I just,” you put up your hands, trying to calm him in return, a signal that he need not be so worried. “I just…I don’t know…sorry. This is all just happening so fast and it shouldn’t be a big deal but…”

Oh.

You hadn’t thought of that until exactly that moment.

“I just realized that I won’t just ever have a wedding. The wedding, you know? That…my husband–my future husband–will never just be my husband. He’ll never just be the most special person in my life…like, he’ll always be my second husband as far as everyone’s concerned. And that wedding’s gonna have to either just be simple and take a back seat to this one or it’s going to have to be bigger and better in every way and I won’t be able to enjoy it…maybe…I don’t know….”

“Hey.”

You didn’t even realize you were shaking until his hand folded around yours to find it a still, warm place to be. And when you looked up to the mirror again, there was a bride, puffy-faced, standing aloft on her short pedestal in an artsy Sherman Oaks living room above her slovenly groom in a stretched-out t-shirt whose thumb was worrying her knuckles and who was gazing up at her in a heartfelt study of concern and fear.

“Cakes. We don’t have to do this.”

His voice had the same effect as turning the heat down on a simmering pot and you felt your heart returning to manageable speed as you squeezed his fingers in your own.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It just hit me hard and fast. I’ll get over it. I mean, it’s just a dream, right? There’s no saying I’ll even marry anyone else. I’m so picky and focused on my career so…” But when you met his eyes, you saw that his pot was still threatening to simmer over. “Really. It’s okay, D. Just promise me we’ll have fun, okay?”

Letting go of the breath he’d been holding, his face settled into a slovenly, relaxed smile, relieved to have an assignment. “Yeah. I can promise that.” His eyes shot wide. “Oh shit. Vows. We have to do that shit don’t we.”

You laughed, lifted his hand to kiss his thumb as the tailor came back into the room. “Yeah, we do. Just don’t promise anything you can’t deliver, Bravo.”

“You wouldn’t believe what I can deliver, missus.”

________________

Nobody could ever say Dieter Bravo wasn’t an amazing actor.

“Listen. I may have got my ass kicked off a few sets when I was just starting out, but I can say that I’ve never broken a contract. I sign my name onto something? I commit.”

A perfectly sunny day. A beautiful ocean-view trellis. A veil made of silk orchids spilling over your hair. Your parents watching from the front row, flown in specially for the day.

Dieter didn’t believe in holding hands during the vows. But apparently he did believe in hugging you tightly against him and very openly weeping. “I can’t believe you said yes to me. Babe. You’re just…you’re the perfect wife for me. You came into my life and it’s been fun, you know? I promise you, we’re gonna have fun.”

It was sweet, really. You knew he wasn’t only putting on a good show, living up to the weirdness that people expected from his eccentric, chaotic persona, but it was also evident that he was actually allowing himself to feel this, to give into the fantasy of being a husband for someone he cared about.

And, of course, you knew he was doing this for you. Living these vows in real time. Because the harder you giggled against him in front of the ocean and everyone you loved, overcome by the ridiculousness of it all, the harder he sobbed, his voice all but cutting out completely, just an absolute mess.

He stumbled forward a little, stepping on your toes, but it hardly mattered. To match his white groomswear–a beautiful white jacket and vest over black trousers–he’d opted for white crocs. That way, he said, he wouldn’t hurt you when he fumbled the first dance. And you were actually touched that he’d festooned them with the jibbitz you’d bought him that day at the Farmer’s Market. It made you grin like an idiot on your march down the aisle. And if you ever got nervous enough to drop your gaze, there they were, a reminder that this was all just too silly, that you were both in on your own private joke.

As much as he’d assured you that you didn’t have to adopt this crazy scheme, it surprised you that Dieter actually took it as seriously as he did. Not the fake marriage thing, but the whole…formal wedding part. You knew him well enough. This was not his style. If Bravo was going to seriously marry anyone it would probably include nudity and psychotropics.

But at least he was making sure you were both having a good time at everyone else’s expense. As long as he wasn’t high. That’s all you asked of him on the day. Just for him to be coherent enough so you wouldn’t be left alone in all of this. And you were relatively sure he was going to keep his word on that.

“You’re so talented smart and and pretty and I’m fucking lucky I met you. You like all the same pizza toppings I do and I’m so happy you’re the last person I see before I fall asleep. I know what I’ve got. I’m not giving this up. I’m gonna take care of you,” he pulled his expression together into a mask of fearful determination. “And I’m gonna be who you need me to be.”

Damn, he was Sell. Ing. It.

Your eyebrows shot up as he went in for an early kiss, smashing his lips into yours, his fingers digging into your back, the combination of his vows’ forceful sincerity and the desperate eagerness of the kiss sending you both stumbling.

After that, it was a balancing act between your mouth and your heart, one of them delivering the vows you’d prepared–the promises to treat him gently and be a good partner, some quote by Emily Dickinson about the wildness of the sea and the beating of your heart–while the other worked to quiet all the fire alarms that his words had set off in you.

It was just a show. Just another show, that’s all. You would let the emotions guide your actions in a truthful way, but in the end, the curtain always comes down and you get to take your bows and dump your flowers in your dressing room and then go out and get a drink.

“And I promise you, Dieter Bravo, that you will enjoy every damn moment of having me around.”

And he laughed through his watery eyes and you kissed him back, giving his bottom lip a good-natured nip as you let him go, the wedding guests exploding in applause as the officiant made the final declaration and nobody but you heard Dieter when he whispered, “Yes ma’am.”

Now that? That was a five-star performance.

________________

Most of the reception was spent apart from one another. You both quickly realized that whenever you stood in one place together, silver and glass rang out, demanding satisfaction and wouldn’t stop its incessant din until your lips met. You planned for one or two kisses during the ceremony, probably one after the dreaded first dance, but you’d both forgotten about the abhorrent clinking tradition. And it wouldn’t do to look like you were avoiding it.

Dieter wasn’t the best kisser–kissing probably not being his focus when he was intimate with people–but he was warm and gentle in a way you hadn’t expected, his lips were big and soft and his nose got in the way. It got easier and more natural every time, but it was still a struggle to make sure it looked as if every one was your thousandth, and not your third.

By the time he was swaying against you, his lips finding your temple during the first dance, he had nailed the role. “How are you holding up, missus?”

“It’s going fine. My parents are happy. They liked your last film and I told them about how nice you were to me during Timon. I mean, they also think you’re a bit of a clown with a flat ass, but they’ll come around.”

“Bold of them to assume. The jacket covers my ass. Mostly.”

“YouTube. The Venice Beach incident. The reason I’m here, remember?”

“Well, shit.” His cheek pressed into your forehead, seeking support.

And you lent it, winding your arms further around him, urging him to lean in. A subtle shift in his sway, a slowing, a softening as you rubbed comfort into his back. “How are you doing?”

“Fucking exhausted.”

“Those crocs letting you down?”

“I meant emotionally. This is a lot of work. Even a union day’s only ten hours long.”

“Just think how well you’ll sleep tonight.”

“Shit. That reminds me,” he sighed, exasperated. “Planner booked us the suite here. The bed’s a California king, but I’ll take the couch if you want.”

“Should be fine. Do you snore in your sleep?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

“Do you fart in your sleep?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

And, like thousands of newlyweds before you, you chuckled softly into each others’ shoulders, your wedding guests most likely imagining a much different conversation.

The last verse of the first dance began–a cover of an old love tune neither of you had chosen but everyone had immediately started sighing over–and you let words go, simply fueling each other through the last big duet of the performance.

Your head fell naturally to his shoulder, and his chin held you there as you both just rode out the time.

The sun was setting. The fairy lights taking over.

His shoulder….ample, supportive.

Sandalwood….

And the last verse of the first dance ended–a long final note that both of you allowed to resonate between you as everyone applauded in adoration–and you stepped back to find each other’s eyes, then, according to the script, each other’s lips…

…but then neither of you let go.

In fact, both of you held on just a little harder.

There was a flash, a moment where the spell was working on you, that maybe you wanted it to be real. A flicker of heat and the need to be consumed by him. As your body received the kiss that was meant to satisfy expectations but was fulfilling other surprising deficiencies, its chemicals fired to match the action, and as his fingers twisted the silk of your dress, they wrung a tiny whine from you–

–signaling an end to the effect as he broke away.

Or so you thought.

But then…his eyes…his pupils blown wide, his dark eyes darker with–

“Dieter, are you–”

“Hey, do you wanna have–”

“--are you…high?”

You could almost feel the ramp of his heart as you caught him in the headlights. Those wide pupils darting back and forth between your own. A moment gone on too long that you took for guilt over misbehavior but would later recognize as fear of rejection.

Until he deployed his defense mechanism and let the dumbest, sloppiest smile slide across his face to serve as both an admission and an apology. And you growled through a gritted smile.

“Really, dude? At our staged wedding? My family’s here!”

He laughed and gave you a squeeze, nearly lifting you off the ground. “Told you. Fun. D’you wanna hit?”

“No, you fucking dork. Just…don’t let my parents find out. They’re really weird about that stuff and you already have a track record.”

It was half chiding and half resigned amusement. The man was a disaster and everyone loved him in spite of it, you were no exception. He was zero good judgment and a fine example of a charming but hapless mess. But you knew he was good for his word, knew he wouldn’t embarrass you. And that was–you reminded yourself lovingly towards him–about the best you could expect out of Dieter Bravo.

________

“Roll. Action.”

It’s the mark of a good director, scheduling an intimacy shoot on the first day, especially if you need your actors to have a newness, an electricity, that little spark of desperation and awkwardness that makes the chemistry bubble.

But that certainty changes when the actors have history.

It’s the mark of a genius director to take two actors with history and throw them opposite each other when the characters themselves are fighting against their own past.

“I still love you, Justine.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“It’s true.”

“Yeah?” You hit your mark, tilt your chin at him in challenge. “Prove it.”

In his everyday persona, Dieter is an agent of chaos and an absolute menace. But to his credit, he takes his job seriously, a consummate professional. His hands go here, here, and here, and they avoid there, there, and there, just as the intimacy coordinator instructed. He kisses once, twice. No more.

He’s added a few subtle ingredients–a press of foreheads, a shared breath, a thumb across your cheekbone. And a hum of satisfaction.

But he forgot the nibble. It’s not necessary, and he originally added it just to dig at you.

And of course he knew that something deep in you would notice--and secretly resent--the omission.

The little shit.

The IC isn’t on set for filming.

Fuck it.

You put your hands there. You kiss him a third time. You give him a little nip.

And he smiles into the kiss. And does not let go.

A whistle comes from the DP. “Good take. Let’s do another for safety.”

Annie’s voice floats in contentedly from the darkness in the direction of the run monitor. “Let’s do a few. Dieter, don’t hold back. He needs to show her how he really feels. This is his one chance to make her love him again.”

There’s no will in you to pull away from him so fast, this time content to stay in your light while the shift is reset. But you manage to give him a look, a half-hearted reprimand–

Dieter….

He counters with a cocked eyebrow.

Hey. Fun, remember?

And Dieter, still holding on, never having looked away, calls back to the director, “Can do.”

______

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

#i'll never fall in love again #the bubble fanfic #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #the bubble

211 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Your Daddy Don't Know 11

Masterlist

Not really a full series, more a little drabbling here and there ft. dilf!Frank Castle. Leave a comment or some feedback if you like! <3

Warnings: age gap, dubcon and noncon, fucking, intimidation.

The last thing you thought you would ever see is Frank Castle standing in a boutique. It isn’t just another shop in the mall, no, it is one of those overpriced shops downtown that boasts garments imported from all over Europe.

You’ve never been in the place, only stood by your mother as she window shopped and considered paying a fortune for a single pair of sunglasses. The season’s trends line the front of the shop and a table of sparkling accessories lines one wall.

You don’t know quite what to do with yourself as the woman with the blunt haircut greets Frank, barely able to hide her surprise and confusion. She looks at you and you give a sheepish smile as Frank returns her niceties.

“Something in particular we’re looking for?” She speaks in an affected manner, much like that Old Hollywood accent that’s not quite British and not quite anything else, “a special occasion? Back to school?”

“I dropped out,” you grumble as you peer around.

“Oh, uh,” she stammers.

“We’re just looking,” Frank says as he passes her, his plain white tee and jeans marking him as displaced and your own get up little better.

“Let me know if you need anything, my fitting rooms are open,” she trills after him as you give her a dull grimace.

You catch up to Frank as he stares at the wall of hangers. He tilts his head as he touches the little flounce that trims the bodice of a short pink dress. The fabric is decorated with printed strawberries. It’s cute, you suppose, but not for you.

Frank unhooks the hanger and holds it out to you. You stare at it as he faces you, “take it.”

“It isn’t my size,” you check the tag.

“Find your size,” he puts it back.

You reluctantly step closer sort through the hook, there is only one of each size and yours isn’t there, so you go a size down and hope for the best. You take it and follow Frank as he continues his thoughtful perusal. You never thought he would be much for fashion.

“Shoes,” he scratches his short stubble, “how about these?”

He points to some platform sandals in a similar shade to the dress. You can’t imagine you’ll make it far in those.

“A bit high,” you say.

“Cute,” he remarks, “but… how about these?”

He gestures to another pair, low square heels with a few straps to keep them in place.

“Sure,” you surrender, knowing he doesn’t really care either way.

“Alright,” he moves on and you look for your size, plucking out the red shoes and trailing after him.

“Is there a reason we’re here–”

“That doesn’t sound like a thank you,” he warns as he signals to the associate, “excuse me, she’ll need a room.”

“Oh, yes,” she approaches and offers to take your clothing, “I’ll put these in Booth 1 for you.”

“Thanks,” you mutter as she retreats and you feel Frank’s eyes on you. You face him and tuck your hands into your pocket, “thank you,” you say to him that time, “but you don’t have to spend all this on me.”

“I want to,” he says, “you can pay me back by trying it on for me.”

You give a closed-lip smile and nod, “sure.”

“Go on, I’ll be there in a minute,” he winks as he turns away and nears the display of necklaces.

You enter the fitting rooms and go to the booth with the tag on the handle. You step inside and find the dress waiting for you. You hate it already. You lock the door and slowly undress. You pull on the tight pink fabric and turn to look at the skirt as it ends dangerously high in the back.

“Doin’ okay, sugar?” Frank's voice cuts through the wall.

“Fine,” you answer, “it doesn’t really fit.”

“Lemme see,” he insists, girding no argument.

You stifle a sigh and pull back the latch. You step out reluctantly and frown at your body. He whistles as he sits on the cushioned bench.

“Looks like it fits to me, sugar,” he purrs, “perfect.”

“It’s too nice, I don’t have anywhere to wear it–”

“You don’t?” he wonders, “you can’t just wear it for me?”

“I… guess, I… it’s expensive,” you shrug.

“You deserve nice things,” he says, “and I don’t mind giving ‘em.” He holds up a necklace, it almost looks like rock candy, “I like this too.”

“It’s nice,” you say, “thank you.”

“Mm mm,” he hums, “I’m just thinking about you bent over in that… skirt hiked up–”

“Frank,” you put your finger to your lips, “she’ll hear you.”

“So,” he leans his elbows on his legs and shifts, “I’ll be surprised if she can’t see my thoughts through my jeans.”

“Oh god,” you grumble, “I’m gonna change–”

“Better be fast or I’ll come in to help,” he teases, “looks even better from behind, sugar.”

☠

You scrunch your nose at your reflection, the wide mirror encasing the room from over the dark dresser. Frank fixes his tie as he comes out of the bathroom. You glance over at him in the reverse image of the space as he steps up behind you, smoothing the front of his shirt as if to get your opinion.

“I don’t think I’m very hungry,” you say, “my parents are out of town. I should go home and toss the compost like I said I would.”

“Sugar,” he tilts his head as he comes up behind you, pushing his chin onto your shoulder as he takes in the sight of you, his dark eyes roving in the mirror, “that looks way better than I remember.”

He squeezes your hips, his thick fingers bunch the fabric of the dress he bought you as he urges you forward. He turns his face down, kissing beside the strap then nipping with his teeth.

“We should head out if we want to get a table,” he rasps against you.

“Probably,” you try to push away from the dresser but he nudges you again, your hands falling flat on the polished wood.

“You look better than any dessert,” he purrs as he tugs at your skirt, “think maybe it’ll be worth the wait.”

“Frank,” you reach to stop his hand. He takes your and puts it back on the dresser.

“Ah,” he tuts, “don’t…”

He presses your hands down, trailing back again to raise your skirt higher. He draws your feet back so you're bent slightly before the mirror. You stare at yourself, face taut and terrified as he pulls your panties down your thighs. He guides you further back, bending you lower as his zipper slices the air.

You close your eyes as he enters you, pushing between your tender lips as you hold your breath. You grunt as he bottoms out and jerks the entire dresser with the force. You put your hand up to keep the mirror from wobbling as he brings his hand up to your chin, his wide thumb rubbing your cheek as he carefully pumps into you.

“Look, sugar,” he snarls and your eyes snap open, “look how sweet you look, huh,” his other hand hooks beneath you and pulls down the dress, your chest popping out as he gropes you, “fuck, look how good you look with me in you, hm? You get messy?” He leans over you, his breath crawling down your neck, “after I got all cleaned up for you,” his ties rests against your back, tickling you as he ruts harder and harder.

The dress lurches with each slap of flesh, panties slipping further down your legs, toes curling as your thighs tingle. Your body welcomes him despite the humiliation scalding your scalp. The slick noise of his intrusion forms a tempo with his deep growls and your pathetic moans.

You turn your head as his hand slips away, the roof of your parents’ house visible between the curtains.

How did it get to this? Why couldn’t you just be the girl across the street again? Why is he doing this? Why were you letting him?

You close your eyes and drop your head, pushing your nails into the wood as you drone. How can something you know is wrong feel so good?

#frank castle #dark frank castle #dark!frank castle #your daddy don't know #frank castle x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #the punisher #mcu #marvel #au

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flusteredloser · 3 years

Text

sugar sweet

richie tozier x fem reader

category: fluff, fluff, literally just fluff

word count: 3,3k

content warnings: swearing, stealing, slight nsfw (sexual innuendos... bc it’s richie tozier), a driving scene written by a bitch who can't drive, overbearing fluff, sonia

a/n: hello here’s a lil soft fic i wrote in a hyper state today <3 i had ‘beverly’ by ben wallfisch from the it 2017 soundtrack stuck in my head while i wrote the ending so !! enjoy

🎡

"sweetheart, if you don't put your head back in, i'm afraid i'm gonna have to marie antoinette you."

you laughed dismissively at his empty threat, feeling a grin take over. you let the wind crash against your face and through your hair, the scent of sea salt softly filling your nose. if richie thought that you were going to give this feeling up, oh, was he wrong.

despite what he was saying, the sight of morning sunlight streaking through your flying hair and your torso poking out the passengers' window was one richie wished he could get used to. despite his nagging for the past half hour, ranting about the dangers of vehicular manslaughter and mishaps, he couldn't help but beam at your laughter.

he almost hit himself in the head for getting all worked up about safety like eddie always did, but it was something he found himself doing often with you. keeping you safe and sound was one of the few things that kept him from staying up all night. besides, you guys were going to see eddie and the rest of the losers in a bit anyways. the designated role of the pedantic worrier would soon be shrugged off richie's shoulders.

keeping one hand on the wheel, richie’s free hand never left the edge of your knee, not once in the hour-long drive. no matter how far you reached your body out his car's window, his fingers stayed glued around you. you never said anything about the gesture apart from placing your hand over his. being his was something you never got used to, but you were far from complaining.

"richierichierichie i think we're here!" you exclaim, ducking your head back inside the car.

"you sure, dummy? the massive ferris wheel and circus tent means we're close to the carnival?"

your hand leaves his to go shove his temple, "fuck off, rich."

"i know i know, you're really excited," he taps your knee, "so am i."

he pulls into the parking lot, expertly navigating his way through the crowded area before finding a space. an empty space which was coincidentally beside a sketchy beat-up minivan painted with "URIS," in fat letters.

richie laughs, "what are the fucking odds.”

his hand moves from the skin on your knee to the back of your seat, his body shifting to face the rear. you subtly eye your boyfriend sitting in the driver's seat and tried not to physically express any of the thoughts firing in your mind right then. dear god, did he look good today. you end up shamelessly staring at him as he strains his neck to squeeze his way through tight space. his knuckles turn to this ghostly shade of white when he flexed them against the wheel, his rings glinting under the sunlight.

once he finally put the car in park and shifted his weight back to you, he catches your gaze. throwing a wink, he pulls out the keys and stuffs his belongings into his jean pockets.

you’re sure he has zero clue about the effect any of this had on you. sure, he was your boyfriend but sometimes you found yourself feeling scared at how much you liked him. this boy has you wrapped around his finger and he barely knows half of it.

you reach over and run your fingers through his unruly hair a couple more times, enjoying the way the curls bounce back. “you look so good, rich.”

he rolls his eyes at your remark, but you don’t miss the way a small blush reaches tips of his ears. “enjoy it while it lasts, i can’t let the guards recognise me again.”

“i still can’t believe you got fired and banned on the same day, rich. that’s genuinely so impressive, you know that?"

richie rolls his eyes but you see the hint of a grin on his face, “you going soft on me, sweets?”

“could never.” you ruffle his hair, letting your nails glide along his scalp and you laugh at the way his head naturally tips back. richie had no clue why the feeling of your hands in his hair that made him short-circuit, but he wasn’t complaining.

“do we really have to go see them...” richie groans, grabbing your hand and placing it back onto his head when you pulled away.

“richard tozier. i did not pester you to drive us an hour away just so you could fold at me playing with your hair.”

he side-eyes you. “why did i agree to this again?”

“because every day for the last month you wouldn’t shut up about ‘taking eddie’s slushee v-”

“ed’s slushee virginity, riiiight,” he breaks out in a smile, “jesus, can you believe sonia never let him near one in his entire life?”

you tug his fringe towards you and the rest of his head followed, “well, now that he’s all alone there, someone’s got to be there to guide him through his first time, right?”

he faux-pouts back at you, the mischievous glint in his eye sparkling brighter. “fine.”

finally, you let go of his hair and he pecks a kiss against your cheek before putting on his sunglasses and tipping his cap further down his face. opening his car door, you sit there dumbfounded as you watch the 6'2 disguised dork clamber out of his side with your tote bag on his shoulder.

he glances back, offering a hand as if you were going to climb out on his side as well, “c’mon, we don’t have all day.” and richie made sure you knew that by dragging you through the park, evading the guards left and right in under a minute. it was only so long before you spotted a group of idiots wandering aimlessly. bev’s bright red hair was the instant identifier, and watching this bill’s lanky frame grab a fistful of stan’s curls to yank it about sealed the deal.

“stanley, darling,” richie yelled through the crowd, “if you wanted someone to pull your hair that badly you could’ve asked me nicely.” “shut the fuck up, trashmouth!” stan yelled back. “wait. rich?”

you walk over and sling your arm around bev, “you guys haven’t been waiting long, have you?” she grins at the sight of you, “no, but if i have to hear mike argue one more time that the high striker is apparently ‘broken’ i’m going to kill somebody.”

“do me a favour and kill me, bev!” stan’s voice cuts through, followed by a shriek when richie too grabs a handful of his hair.

bev’s hand leaves yours to go smack both boys upside the head. “y’all better stop acting like children before i get fucking fired. i’m not going out like dumbass richie here did.” she eyes the rest of them, who all halt in their tracks.

“yes, ma’am,” the chorus sighed.

🎡

"ed's, i swear on your mother's smokin’ bod that blue is the. best. flavour. there's literally nothing wrong with it."

"you just called blue a flavour, richie-”

"because it can be. it doesn’t matter if blue and red colouring are the same, you can feel the difference.”

"no, i really can't. i don't understand how the colour blue could possibly be-"

richie groans, "fine, eat your mommy's packed lunch like the big boy you are." he teasingly starts to wave his cup in front of eddie's eyes.

"quit it, rich. if eddie doesn’t want toxins in his body, leave him be." ben interjects before sipping his own neon drink.

the boys huddled together around a picnic table they had managed to snatch before the carnival’s lunch rush swept over. richie and bev used to work in the carnival last summer, the two-week period spent with one another supposedly being “worse than the devil’s asscrack.” the comment itself earned richie five slaps, one each from the boys, and a high-five from bev. that was until richie got permanently banned (which you still don’t know how) and now bev carried on by herself whenever they roll back into derry.

currently, you and bev were on your way back from the concession stands, attempting not to spill anything. you each held at least four bags of carnival foods and drinks in your arms, bev also balancing the few candy bars she stashed under her shirt. teeter-tottering your way back to the boys, richie burst out in laughter at the sight of you struggling.

“as graceful as a job you’re doing with that, sweets, do you want some help?” he smirks, already swinging his leg over the chair.

“nope, nothing to see here,” you groan at richie’s smug grin. “rich, i swear to god if you come near me i am going to-”

“hurt me, hit me, murder me, mmhm. i’m sure you’ll do a whole lot of damage.” he winks, swiping the bags from your arms.

“freaky.” stan muttered, churning his slushee with the straw. you grumble at richie’s endearing irritating act of heroism and plop yourself next to stan empty-handed.

“here, you want some?” stan raises an eyebrow, offering his blue slushee towards you.

“thanks stan, but he’s got my...” you glance towards richie, half-expecting to see him distributing the snacks, only to see him aggressively nudge the slushees in eddie’s face. “you know what, i’ll take it.”

stan scoffed, “what, you thought i was offering this from the depths of my generous heart? i thought you knew me better-"

the sound of plastic crinkling and eddie’s yelp cut through stan’s sentence.

you look back at the sight of richie threatening to pour the ice into eddie’s hair, eddie shrieking and wildly missing punches at richie. dear god, your boyfriend was such a menace. richie and eddie never spent a day where they weren’t at eachother’s throats though, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see that they deeply loved one another. rich had that effect on people, you think. he was rarely overtly loving, but it’s not like he needed to be. you guys just knew.

ben smiles sweetly between you and your gaze on richie. “you’re staring again, y/n.”

you immediately snap out of it and go to slug ben in the shoulder. “was not.”

“was too.”

"was. not."

"was too!"

you narrow your eyes at ben who sheepishly smiles in innocence. he reaches over to grab a couple onion rings from your bag to which you lightly slap the back of his hand. he groans, trying again from another angle, “just because i pointed out your goo-goo eyes at trashmouth?”

bev snatched a couple rings from across you and threw them at ben. he chuckles gleefully at the perfect catch. “you know, he’s not wrong,” she points out.

“for the last time, i wasn’t staring,” you groan.

“not about that, genius. the way you’re absolutely whipped for that dick.” she smiles. “i mean,” you barely conceal your smirk, “the dick is pretty g-”

"not what i meant," bev sighs while the rest of them groan at your words.

“seriously though,” bill asks with genuine curiosity, “how did you even end up together? how do you even like someone that much?” bev tuts from the other side, “tread lightly there, denbrough.”

“shut up, you know what i mean. it’s trashmouth we’re talking ’bout here.” bill grins, “it’s a mystery how someone can shut him up so quick.”

you laugh to yourself, thinking about the few times you get to see richie completely speechless. “it’s not that hard, you know?” you shrug softly at the way the losers nod. you may all pretend to hate the life out of him but he always had a special place in each of your hearts. “he cares with everything he’s got, no matter what. he’s always there for you even if you don’t want him to be. i just...i don’t think he’s been anything less than...”

“-if you say ‘perfect’, i’m going to hit you.” stan says.

you roll your eyes at stan, “fuck off, but... but yeah. it’s so easy to love him and i honestly owe you guys an apology for being so annoyingly whipped for that dork,” you joke.

aside from the distant bickering coming from richie and eddie in their own little world, a silence hung over the six of you. it was too quiet. wondering if you said something wrong, you scan over them, only to be met with six variations of a smirk. more than confused, you chuckle nervously. “i was joking about the apology thing but if you really want-”

“you said ‘love.’” bev laughed.

“what?”

“you said ‘love,’” she repeated. “that you loved him.”

“i... of course i love him, he’s..” not trusting any more of the words coming out of your mouth, you cut yourself off and gather your thoughts.

of course you loved richie. each and every one of you loved your resident trashmouth, he was one of your best friends. the two of you were the closest of friends, an insufferable duo for years before you began dating. it might have only been a few weeks since he asked you out, but it’s not like too much changed from when you were friends.

there was only more love, more affection, only slightly more sexual innuendos (majority of them were solely just to piss off stan).

so of course you loved him. more than you did when you were friends. which he’s gotta know... right?

“fuck, maybe i do owe you guys an apology.” you joke.

“don’t think twice about it, this is nothing compared to him. if i took a shot for every time he went on some sort of love ramble about you, i’d be fucking dead.” bev replies, “and then he would carry on.”

you laugh, shaking your head in denial, “c’mon, he does not do that.”

“are you blind?” mike speaks up. “you’ve had him since the first day you joined us at the barrens. i can still see fourteen-year-old richie ogling you clear as day.”

you stammered at your response, tripping over your words. “mike, i think you broke her. she’s become bill,” stan teases.

you go to shove stan again and sorely miss. “anyways, my point is...”

you avoid their eye contact and go back to churning stan’s slushee. “he has my heart, fuck, he’s got all of our hearts. like, is he an asshole? sure. does he get on my nerves every other day? definitely. will he be the death of me? probably. but i l-”

“i sure hope you’re winding up to something there, sweets.”

you snap your head up from your dreamy rambling to see richie smirking next to you and eddie squeezing himself next to bill. you feel yourself go bright red at the realisation that he had been listening.

“i- no. that was it.”

“you sure? you going off about me... ‘but’...” richie pushes, quoting your words.

“richie, if you genuinely think you have redeeming qualities, i suggest some self-reflection.” stan quipped. “yeah, i was just pointing how much you bother us. no ifs, no buts,” you jokingly agree.

“mean,” richie rolls his eyes, shifting back in his seat next to you.

he’s gotta know... right?

you wink and stick your tongue out playfully, to which richie raises an eyebrow at. he glances between the blue drink in your hand and your tongue, his gaze on your lips making you nervous.

“now, what?” you sigh, wiping the ice from your mouth and pretending that you weren’t dying to know what was churning in that brain of his.

“nothing,” richie shrugs smugly, “just that i’ve always wanted to know how my cock looked blue.”

the comment took you off guard, your instant blush only fuelling richie’s grin. without hesitation, you lean over with a faux-pout, an act that has richie’s eyes wide. “careful there, trashmouth,” you tease loudly. “you keep this up and you’ll see how stan’s looks blue.”

bev immediately gasps with her hand over her mouth, followed by mike’s stifled cackle as he slapped richie’s back. the rest of the group looks frankly stunned, and stan’s face is on a whole different level of red.

richie doesn’t even look the least bit angry. his jaw is dropped slightly and he runs his hand over his jaw, trying to stop the chuckle that leaves his throat. if anything he looks proud.

shaking his head with a smile, he slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. “that’s my girl,” he grins.

“yeah, that for sure is tozier’s,” bill says.

there’s no way any of you miss the way richie’s face goes red under that comment and your heart skips a beat when he squeezes your side. when no one’s looking, you lean up and kiss by his ear, absolutely delighted by the deeper shade of red on his face.

“darl, if you don’t stop that i’m going to go as red as stan,” he whispers into your hair. the both of you look back at the boy who’s trying to concentrate on his slushee and not the blush that’s continued to creep to his neck. “i’m actually getting concerned.”

you giggle, “shh, he’s fine.”

“no really, i give it a couple seconds before eddie pulls out his medical fanny pack,” richie says.

you look up at him as you’re tucked into his side, his arm still slung around your shoulder. his dark hair and eyelashes caught the sunlight, his blue eyes glinting as he glanced back. his lips were tipped into their signature cheeky smile, almost like a cue that he was going to say something out of hand. you felt the swell of your heart grow as he raised his eyebrows, prompting what he knew you were going to say.

“you know, earlier...” you whisper, looking down to his hand intertwining with yours. “i just... i wanted to say that i... you know... that i-”

“i feel like i should be offended at how hard it is for you to tell me you love me, sweets,” he whispers back, clearly trying to keep a straight face. fuck. “oh god please, you know i-” richie shushes you, kissing the crown of your head. “it’s okay, i know.” you can feel the curve of his lips against your hair. “i love you too.”

trying to tame the aggressive blush and stupid smile that reached your face, you follow his gaze over to eddie. just like richie joked, he had this fanny pack laid on the table in front of stan. you weren’t listening to anything they were saying, but you watched the way stan was squirming from eddie, insisting he did not have heatstroke. mike stood right behind stan, pinching his cheeks and periodically wrapping his strong arms around stan to stop him from squirming. bev was leaning across ben and bill’s laps, joining in and poking her fun at eddie and you notice how bill’s hands traces figures along bev’s side. ben gazes at the group of them, chiming in every so often when stan’s quips got too violent.

it was one of those moments you wish you could freeze.

after a while, richie whispers into your ear. “do you think they’d even notice if we left for the ferris wheel?”

you break your eye contact from the group to gaze up at him. “nope, not at all. you think you can sneak us some tickets?”

“please, you think i got kicked out of here for nothing?” he scoffs.

“is this how you’re going to get banned again?” you grin, poking his side, “stealing tickets for your girl?”

with a soft smile, he takes your hand to subtly stand and back away from the group. with stifled giggles, the both of you manage to make it at least twenty feet without the losers even noticing. the second you two were out of earshot, richie wraps his hand around yours and begins to run, “i wouldn't want it any other way."

🎡

526 notes · View notes

emma-frxst · 3 years

Text

Pool Party

pairing: Colossus x reader

summary: @master-sass-blast requested “PIOTR SEEING READER IN SWIMSUIT FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!”

A/N- thanks for requesting sass! I had a lot of fun writing this one. tag list open, reblogs appreicated!

Your sunglasses rested delicately on your nose as you sipped your drink and fell into deep relaxation. Music played and your friends chatted in the background as everyone gathered by the pool at the X- mansion.

Your co- workers thought it would be nice to throw a girls-only back to school pool party before all the students moved in for the year. And you, 3 margaritas deep, couldn’t agree more. It felt good be back at the X mansion after a few months of summer break. You missed your friends, and one handsome metal man whom you’ve had your eye on for a while now. Speaking of the handsome metal man, the music was suddenly overpowered by the sounds of a lawnmower. Piotr. He was responsible for some of the the upkeep of the mansion grounds over the summer months. “Ugh..Fucking Piotr and his yard work, god.” Lex commented, going to turn up the speaker.

“Yeah I wish I was” you said.

“You wish you were what? god?”

“No, I wish I was fucking Piotr.”

Laughter roared from you and your friends. “Hey seriously though, don’t be so salty about Piotr gardening and doing lawn work, I don’t see you volunteering, Lex.” You joked, you liked to give your best friend a hard time.

“Couldn’t be me… Hey don’t we have someone who’s power is to literally control plants? So they could do the yard work much more easily?”

“Yeah, that’s professor Stewart who’s still away for the summer, but Piotr likes to do it, he was a farmer back home.”

“So you’ve got yourself a farm boy, y/n?” Lex teased.

“No. Not yet anyways.” You replied, taking a sip of your drink.

“You should go for it. I think he likes you.”

“Really?” You questioned.

A chorus of yeses sounded from the girls.

“Alright I didn’t know everyone was in on this.”

“Of course we are.” Storm interjected, winking at you.

“You don’t think it’d be weird since we’re co-workers?”

“I think it’ll be fine.” Lex said, nudging you.

You pondered the possibility for a moment.

“I’m getting in the pool.” You stated, pushing those thoughts away for now.

Piotr had his headphones on jamming out while doing yard work. Listening to none other than Neil Diamond; his favorite.

It was hot out. Piotr didn’t sweat when he was in metal form, but if he did he would be sweaty.

A brilliant idea struck him.

The pool.

He finished mowing and headed that way, eager to feel the cool water on his skin. He unlatched the side gate and stopped dead in his tracks- finding everyone looking at him.

He slowly took off his headphones, becoming a bit timid.

“Oh. I’m sorry ladies. I…..”

his mind went blank upon seeing you. Gorgeous you- In a swimsuit nonetheless. Piotr was first and foremost a gentleman, but the way your swimsuit hugged you just right made him weak. His heart began racing and a lump formed in his throat. He was thankful he was in defense mode, otherwise he would probably be as red as a tomato.

“Um… “ Piotr swallowed thickly. “I-I didn’t realize there was anyone on campus. I’ll come back another time. I didn’t meant to intrude.” He said, secretly hoping someone (you), would ask him to stay.

“No, Piotr it’s ok, you can stay.” Storm butted in, “you’ve been working hard, come cool off a second.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned.

“Of course.” Storm replied and not so subtly gave you the look.

After giving everyone polite greetings, Piotr approached the edge of the pool.

“Hello y/n” He said, a big smile crossing his features.

“Hey Piotr! Come on in, the waters fine!”

He happily obliged.

After a few minutes of small talk, you heard a voice in your head that wasn’t yours.

‘Flirt with him, y/n!’

Wha-? Jean? Get outta my thoughts please.

You turned and shot her a look. To which she only smiled a sly, little smile.

The few seconds your head was turned, you could feel Piotr’s eyes on you- and not in a gross, creepy way. In a way that gave you goosebumps- the good kind. “Well, I should get back to working, I have crashed your party long enough.”

“You know you can crash the party anytime, Piotr. You’re my favorite party crasher.” You said in a poor attempt to flirt with him.

You were positive the girls would tease you for it later.

But hey, At least your comment got a smile out of him.

“Da, being the favorite is all that matters.” He said with a chuckle.

“Don’t party too hard without me.” He instructed while getting out of the pool, the water rolling off his shiny, muscular body like water off a duck’s back.

“I won’t, but only since you asked so nicely.” You teased, earning another smile from the metal man.

“Thank you again for letting me stay ladies, have fun.” He politely waved at everyone. “See you y/n.”

“See ya! Don’t work too hard!” As soon as Colossus shut the gate he thought of you. Then thought of you in that swimsuit; it sent a shiver up his spine. god, you were gorgeous.

He absentmindedly reached for his headphones- that weren’t there.

Shit.

He left them at the pool.

you kicked yourself for not making a move, no time ever felt ‘right.’

‘There’s always next time’ you told yourself.

But then out of the corner of your eye, you saw Piotr’s headphones. He had left them on the table.

You quickly grabbed them and took off after him.

“I’ll be right back!” You shouted to the girls.

You flung open the side gate nearly hitting Piotr.

“Oh- Piotr I’m sorry, I was trying to catch up with you, you forgot these.” You held out the headphones.

“Da. Thank you very much y/n.”

“No problem.” Your reply cheerful as ever.

You both looked down at the ground awkwardly. Silence lingered. “Um..y/n?”

“Yes Piotr?”

He suddenly was nervous; fidgeting with his headphones.

“Would you like to get dinner sometime? With me?”

Your heart rate skyrocketed and your cheeks flushed with heat.

“I’d like that very much.”

Tags: (tag list of open, send me an ask if you want to be tagged, removed or only tagged for certain characters.) @chromecutie @xenomorphique @evelyn120700 @nightriver99 @iamwarrenspeace @this-that-and-every-thing-else @hsk-puma @bungeewabbit @pianomad @lesbianstarkx @hazilyimagine-blog @super-darkcloudstudent @thehuntress26 @siren-lamented-vampire @mooleche @rovvboat @leo-writer @dandyqueen @nitemaremotionless @thewintersoldierswife

#colossus x reader #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus/ reader #mine #kacceywrites

324 notes · View notes

labomi · 4 years

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selfish | two (18+)

Summary: You’re a former coworker of Kento Nanami back when he was just an office worker. You accidentally run into him at a bakery many years later which gives you a second chance at getting to know the man who had always caught your eye.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader

Words: 8.6k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+ only), vaginal sex, creampie, explicit language, alcohol

Notes: I’m so happy to get this out finally ajsfdsld thank you for all the lovely comments on the first part! I’m so glad people enjoyed it enough to convince me to write more! This will definitely be the last part for this fic, but I do have plans for more Nanami things in the future. Thanks for reading! It’s also up on my ao3 if you prefer to read it there!

Index: [Part One] [Part Two]

You were moving boxes in the storage room when you heard the chime of the front door opening. With a sudden jolt, you realized you had forgotten to change the sign from “open” to “closed” before cleaning up. Cursing at yourself for the careless mistake, you hoped the customer wouldn’t be too upset that the shop was actually shut down for the night.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” you politely explained, emerging from the back room. But one look at the tall figure by the door caused you to stop in your tracks. A large smile grew on your face when you saw exactly who had entered the shop.

Nanami was still in his normal work attire, but he had left behind his signature blazer and sunglasses. The top few buttons of his blue dress shirt were undone, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You unconsciously licked your lips.

“I can make an exception for you though,” you teased with a wink before walking around the counter to greet your boyfriend.

As you waltzed into his open arms, Nanami leaned down to give you a sweet kiss as a greeting. You sighed happily against his lips. It felt so good to be with him after a long, tiring day. His presence always made you feel safe and warm. Like nothing could ever possibly go wrong as long as you were in his embrace.

Nanami’s hands latched onto your waist as he tried to deepen the kiss, but you reluctantly pulled away with a groan of frustration.

“As much as I’d like to continue, I have to finish closing up shop,” you complained with a pout.

Nanami kissed the top of your head before releasing you. “It’s alright. I’ll wait.”

You changed the sign on the door to “closed” to prevent any unwanted guests from entering the shop. You then wiped down all the counters and properly stored the leftover ingredients. Once finished with all your tasks, you took off your apron and shoved it in your bag.

“I’m ready!” you called out to Nanami as you started to shut off all the lights. The two of you exited the now dark shop before you locked the front door.

Whenever you had a closing shift, Nanami always came to walk you home. You found it absolutely endearing. Even though you didn’t particularly mind traveling alone at night, the walk to your apartment was always more pleasant when the sorcerer was by your side.

It was almost midnight. The normally busy streets were now devoid of both cars and other pedestrians. You loved sharing these quiet moments with Nanami. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s presence with no one else around. Nanami preferred it this way too, especially because he wasn’t a particular fan of PDA.

You were holding onto Nanami’s hand as he quietly walked beside you. “How was work today?” you asked.

Nanami was a little sensitive about discussing his job as a sorcerer with you. He always refused to share the details of his missions, but he begrudgingly answered your general questions about his workday with vague responses.

“It was fine.” He squeezed your hand lightly. “I was able to get off early.”

“Lucky you! I wish I could have finished earlier,” you complained with a huff. “Closing shift is the worst.”

“Did you eat dinner at least?”

You nodded. “I got some takeout during my break.”

“Good.” He knew you had a bad habit of skipping dinner while you were working. You found it more convenient to just eat a granola bar, especially when it was busy. But Nanami always lightly chastised you when you did this, so you had been making more of an effort to eat better.

The two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Once inside, you immediately emptied out of your bag and threw your apron into the laundry hamper. Luckily, you were off of work for the next two days.

“Kento, you’re staying the night, right?” The sorcerer was still standing in your living room.

“I have to report to work early tomorrow. I don’t want to wake you.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a sigh. Nanami was too considerate of you sometimes. “You never wake me up. Plus, I have my 9 am class tomorrow, so I have to be up early anyway.”

Nanami knew you were right. Unlike him, you slept like the dead. Frankly, he was a little jealous. The sorcerer had always been a sensitive sleeper, but he found it much easier to relax in your presence. Since the two of you had started dating, the quality of his sleep remarkably improved.

“I’ll stay.” You grinned smugly. It didn’t take much to convince him to sleep over.

“Good. I’m going to shower.”

The two of you rarely spent the night apart from one another, alternating between each other’s apartments based on the convenience for the night. Nanami had his own toiletries, pajamas, and spare clothes in your apartment, and you had your own set of things at his place as well.

As you took your shower, Nanami changed into his sleepwear and sat on your couch, reading one of many books he left at your place. Once you announced you were done using the bathroom, the sorcerer placed a bookmark and set the book back down on your coffee table. You were already in the bedroom, changing into your pajamas and packing your bag for class tomorrow, knowing you would forget something if you waited until the morning.

You looked up as Nanami entered the room after washing up. You still found it relatively amusing to see him in such casual clothes: a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt. But you were glad that only you got to see him like this. The man was the perfect example of prim and proper in public, but at home, he found it more appropriate to dress comfortably. And you thought he looked absolutely adorable. Especially with his unstyled hair.

After the lights were turned off, the two you snuggled in bed together and kissed each other goodnight. Within seconds, you were already fast asleep, exhausted from the long day. Nanami listened to the sound of your deep, even breathing. He felt completely at ease with you safely pressed against him. It wasn’t long before he followed you into a deep sleep.

---

Nanami’s life was simple before he met you at that bakery.

He went to work, came back home, read a book, had a glass of scotch, and made some dinner. The cycle repeated nearly every day, but Nanami didn’t particularly mind. He liked having a simple, predictable routine.

Once you reentered his life, things were a bit different. A bit more exciting. He wasn’t complaining.

Instead of only buying groceries for himself, he made sure to also buy your favorite snacks. Instead of making a reservation for one at a restaurant, he asked for a table for two. Instead of placing one set of utensils on his dining table, he always put down two.

Jujutsu sorcerers were a lonely group of people. They often felt isolated from the general population, born with unique abilities that allowed them to see things that most other people could not.

It was a difficult path. Sorcerers faced a life full of constant battle and death. And the only people who could relate to their hardships were the same people dying by their sides.

For this reason, sorcerers rarely interacted with people outside the jujutsu community. They saw themselves as an outsider to the rest of society. A society that was blissfully unaware of the existence of curses.

But it was different with you.

When Nanami was with you, he didn’t feel like an outsider or a jujutsu sorcerer.

He felt like a normal man.

The activities that Nanami once did alone were now the same activities he enjoyed doing together with you. He took you to his favorite bakery to pick out fresh bread every week. He escorted you to well-reviewed restaurants he had been meaning to visit. He even brought you to his beloved local bookstore, the one place he had been visiting for years as a regular customer.

The first time he took you into the shop, the owner couldn’t help but notice the way your hands were intertwined with one another. As you browsed through the shelves on your own, the old woman suggestively waggled her eyebrows at Nanami.

“So you got a lady now?” she asked curiously.

Nanami thought it was a little odd that she was somehow keeping tabs on his relationship status, but he nodded anyway.

“Ah! She’s a pretty one!”

You suddenly reappeared with a tall stack of secondhand books in your arms. “Kento! This place is amazing! I’m going to buy all of these!”

“Oh, definitely a keeper too,” the owner commented.

Nanami found himself agreeing.

He didn’t know if you could be any more perfect.

Nanami had always enjoyed cooking. He loved the process of selecting a recipe, buying fresh ingredients, and turning them into a delicious, home-cooked meal. But he learned that enjoyed cooking even more when it was for you.

The sorcerer was appalled to hear that you hardly ever cooked for yourself. He had surveyed the state of your freezer in utter disgust. It was crammed full of boxes of microwavable meals and several pints of ice cream. You defended yourself vehemently, claiming that you were too busy to cook between classes, work, and study sessions. The microwave was the easiest and quickest appliance to use after all. And sometimes you just wanted ice cream for dinner.

Nanami took it upon himself to make sure you were eating proper, nutritious meals. In his eyes, it was less of a chore and more of a hobby. He enjoyed learning what you liked. He looked forward to hearing your thoughts about a recipe. He loved the way your eyes lit up whenever he presented a new dish. The sorcerer had even subscribed to food magazines and bought some international cookbooks just to try out with you.

Every morning, Nanami packed you a healthy lunch to ensure you wouldn’t just eat a granola bar for the entire day. And whenever the two of you both had a free night, you always ate dinner together.

In particular, Friday nights had become a weekly tradition between the two of you. Nanami would prepare a special dinner with some fancy wine. The two of you would even dress up a little to celebrate the start of the weekend.

You knocked on Nanami’s door one Friday night, wearing a simple yet elegant dress with just a hint of makeup on your face. The door opened and you were instantly greeted by the mouth-watering smell of whatever the man was cooking in the kitchen. But the sight of Nanami was even more distracting. He was wearing an apron over a tight black button-up shirt with gray slacks. You bit your lip softly, eyeing him appreciatively.

While you enjoyed going out to eat in a restaurant, there was something more intimate about Nanami cooking dinner at home just for the two of you. Plus, the atmosphere was always lovely. His apartment was clean, spacious, and well-decorated. Whatever jujutsu sorcerers got paid, it was clearly more than enough.

“It smells good,” you hummed. “What are you making tonight?”

The sorcerer never revealed dinner to you in advance. For some reason, he always wanted to keep it a surprise.

“Homemade linguine with shrimp. I also got some fresh bread to go along with it.”

Your eyes lit up instantly. “Oooh, sounds delicious! I didn’t know you knew how to make pasta from scratch.”

Everything that Nanami prepared was always amazing. There was never a meal he made that you didn’t enjoy. The first time he cooked you dinner, you almost wanted to propose to him right then and there. A man with those looks and proper culinary skills? You felt like the luckiest person in the world.

You always offered to help Nanami while he was cooking but he would gently shoo you out of the kitchen every time. You weren’t sure if it was because he wanted you to sit back and relax or if it was because he thought you would mess things up.

It was probably the latter.

(Most definitely the latter.)

Due to your clear lack of culinary expertise, you were in charge of cleaning all the pots and pans and loading the dishwasher. You couldn’t complain.

Your post-dinner activities were always the same. The two of you would play a movie and then immediately proceed to ignore it for the rest of the night.

Tonight was no different.

You moaned loudly, writhing about on the couch. “Kento, fuck.”

Your dress was hiked up around your hips, underwear already discarded with Nanami’s face in between your legs. You were already shuddering through your second orgasm of the night with Nanami eagerly lapping up your fluids. His strong arms locked your thrashing legs into place as you gripped the edges of the couch, riding out the last few waves of intense pleasure.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes as he pulled back, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Ready?” he asked in a deep voice. His pupils were blown open in lust. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. The man gathered you in his arms and headed to the bedroom.

He carefully set you down on unsteady legs as he pulled the zipper down your dress until the garment fell and landed in a heap on the ground. To his pleasant surprise, you were already braless. You turned around and started to slowly unbutton Nanami’s dress shirt, taking your sweet time. His gaze raked over your entire figure, causing your fingers to fumble as you flushed from the intensity of his stare. Eventually, Nanami had enough. He threw you on the bed and quickly shed the rest of his clothes on his own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, climbing on the bed and hovering over you. His large, calloused hands roamed all over your bare skin while his mouth focused on sucking at the sensitive spots on your neck.

You relished the feel of Nanami’s touch all over you, but one glance at his painfully hard cock had your cunt begging to be filled.

“Kento,” you whined. “I can’t wait. Fuck me, please. I need you inside me, right now.”

Nanami sheathed his entire length inside you with just one sharp thrust. He proceeded to fuck you hard and fast, just the way you liked. Each snap of his hips left you a complete mess underneath him, moaning his name over and over again. It was just barely audible over the lewd, wet sounds of your desperate cunt squeezing around him.

Nanami grabbed one of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours. A sweet gesture as he roughly pounded you into the bed. The two of you were so worked up that it didn’t take long for the both of you to quickly become undone. You arched your back and tightly gripped Nanami’s hand as uncontrollable pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. Nanami groaned your name as he sloppily thrust into you several more times before flooding your cunt with his cum.

When he finally pulled out, Nanami was satisfied to see his seed trickling out of you.

“Kento,” you called his name, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

The man adjusted his position so he was now laying next to you. He kissed you sweetly and whispered praises of you as you giggled breathlessly.

“Hmm, I don’t want to get out of bed and clean up yet.”

“Then don’t,” Nanami said with a devious look in his eyes.

It was then that you felt his length hardening once again against your thigh. He suddenly pulled you on top of him as he laid on his back. The movement caused your sensitive folds to inadvertently rub against his dick as you straddled his hips. You gasped at the feeling, clutching at his chest to prop you up.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled.

---

It was a slow afternoon when a man entered the boba shop. He wore an all-black outfit and a matching beanie. Tufts of his disheveled brown hair stuck out from underneath.

“Hello!” You greeted him inside as his eyes flickered around the place nervously before walking up to the cash register.

“What would you like to order?”

Instead of browsing the menu, the man’s gaze was focused elsewhere. Specifically, your chest. You stood there uncomfortably, wondering if you should say something or just ignore him. But then you realized the man wasn’t being a creep. He was reading your name tag.

The man said your name out loud hesitantly.

“Yes? That’s me.” You tilted your head slightly, trying to figure out if you knew this man. Nothing about his appearance rang a bell. You then started to worry about whether or not you were supposed to recognize him. Was he a current classmate? A former coworker?

The man’s eyes instantly lit up. “You’re Nanami’s girlfriend, right?”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

Kento? He knows Kento?

“Oh, um, yes I am.” The question had taken you off guard. You weren’t expecting a random customer to mention your boyfriend’s name.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” The man smiled brightly at you, looking extremely excited. “Gojo always mentions how pretty and kind you are, so I couldn’t resist visiting when he told me you worked here.”

Gojo?

If this man knew both Nanami and Gojo, did this mean he was also a sorcerer?

The stranger had piqued your curiosity, and you just couldn’t give up the opportunity to sit down and chat with him. Luckily, it was a slow day and you convinced your coworker to allow you to take your break early. After preparing two drinks, you slipped into a booth in the back of the shop with the man taking a seat across from you.

“I’m Ino Takuma.” The man introduced himself to you.

“So, if you know Gojo and Kento, does that mean you’re a sorcerer?” You kept your voice hushed while asking, just in case your nosy coworkers were trying to listen in on your conversation.

Ino nodded. “Yep, I am.”

You couldn’t help but feel excited to meet another one of Nanami’s colleagues. He purposely tried to shield you from the jujutsu world, but it only made you more curious. Plus, you wanted to know more about what Nanami was like as a sorcerer. He was always so gentle and sweet with you. Well, except for in bed. But it was sometimes hard to imagine that he exorcised curses for a living.

“Do you know Kento well?” you asked curiously.

Ino nodded eagerly. “Yes! I worked with him on a mission once and since then, I’ve really respected him.” He blushed a little, rubbing the back of his head. “Nanami is my role model. I don’t see myself as a particularly smart guy, so whenever I don’t know what to do, I always ask myself what would Nanami do?”

Ino’s words were full of sincerity. In some ways, he reminded you of Itadori. Both of the boys seemed to admire Nanami in a way you would never understand as a non-sorcerer. But it made your heart full knowing that Nanami was a trusted mentor in his workplace.

“Does that mean Kento is strong?” You were a little hesitant to ask the question. As an outsider to the jujutsu world, you didn’t know what made a sorcerer strong. But if another sorcerer told you that Nanami was indeed powerful, you would feel comforted. You knew his job was dangerous, so you obviously worried about his safety, but you tried your best not to show it around him.

“Nanami is super strong!” Ino exclaimed, arms flailing around to emphasize his point. “He’s a Grade 1 sorcerer! That’s practically the best you can be!”

You bit back a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. Thank you, Ino.”

The two of you continued to chat for the rest of your break, getting to know each other better. Ino even successfully squeezed out of you Nanami’s favorite bakery and favorite bookstore. He claimed he wanted to surprise the man with a gift he would actually appreciate. You encouraged him with a warm smile.

“Thank you for the tea and the conversation,” Ino said, sliding out of the booth. He hovered around you with a light blush dusting his cheeks again. “Um, next time you see Nanami, can you maybe ask him about my recommendation to a Grade 1 sorcerer? If you don’t mind that is!”

“Sure! Will do. It was great meeting you. Thank you for helping to keep Kento safe!”

Ino’s eyes widened at your words. He puffed out his chest proudly. “Of course!”

You waved at him as he exited the shop with a loud farewell.

After your shift, you had returned to your apartment to change and grab some things to spend the night at Nanami’s apartment. When you arrived at his place, the man was already setting the table for dinner. You hugged him from behind with a happy hum as finished his task. Nanami gently removed your arms from around him before turning around and greeting you with a kiss.

“Welcome home.”

“Dinner smells good,” you commented happily. “I’m starving!”

Nanami chuckled lightly. He pulled out a chair for you. “Sit down and I’ll serve you.”

The two of you sat at the table together, plates filled with delicious curry rice.

“How was your day today?” Nanami asked once you both started eating.

“Oh!” You swallowed your bite. “I actually met a coworker of yours. He came to the shop.”

“Who?” Nanami looked rather unhappy, gripping the spoon in his hand forcefully.

“Ino Takuma.”

Nanami sighed, rubbing his forehead in irritation. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to tell him to stay away from you. I have no idea how he found your workplace in the first place.”

“Huh? What? No, it’s fine! Ino was very kind and sweet. I enjoyed chatting with him. Also, don’t be too mad at him, Gojo was the one who told him about me.”

Nanami clenched his fist. The next time he saw that white-haired idiot, he was going to kill him.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Kento, why are you so against me meeting other jujutsu sorcerers? These people are important to you, no? I want to meet them.”

Nanami refused to meet your gaze. He still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of you interacting with the jujutsu world, sorcerers included. “I’m just trying to prote—”

“Protect me, I know.” You let out a deep sigh. “But I don’t want you to hide your life as a sorcerer from me. It’s a big part of your identity, and I want to learn more about jujutsu so I can understand you, Gojo, Itadori, and everyone better.” You lowered your voice slightly. “I care about you all, you know.”

Nanami reached out across to the table to gently hold your hand. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry.” He knew that shielding you from the jujutsu world as much as possible wasn’t doing you or him any favors. But Nanami didn’t know what else to do. He never imagined he would be dating someone while working as a sorcerer. And he especially never imagined he would be dating a non-sorcerer.

Relationships between sorcerers and non-sorcerers rarely worked out, so Nanami tried to restrict your access to the jujutsu world as much as possible. He refused to talk about his missions with you. He tried to limit the presence of other sorcerers around you. He did this to protect you, but maybe he was doing it to protect himself instead. He didn’t want to lose you or scare you away.

“I do want to share my life as a sorcerer with you.” Nanami was struggling to find the right words. “But it’s difficult for me.” He had always envisioned his personal life and his work life as two separate spheres, but you were beginning to blur those lines. “I promise I’ll do better.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his efforts. “Well, we can take it slow.”

“Thank you.”

You were cleaning the dishes in the sink when Nanami wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face in your neck. Both of you felt so much lighter after the discussion during dinner.

“Oh!” A sudden realization popped into your mind. “I forgot to mention. Ino asked me to tell you not to forget his Grade 1 sorcerer recommendation.”

Nanami groaned in the crook of your neck. “Of course he did, that impatient kid.”

“What’s a recommendation? Are you not going to do it?”

He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Kento,” you whined.

“Alright. I’ll explain it to you after you’re done.”

---

You had just finished class when a text popped up on your phone. It was from Gojo.

Gojo: Hey! Do you want to go to dinner with me, Yuji, and Nanami tonight????

Dinner? You felt a tinge of excitement.

You: Sure! I’m free!

You didn’t know what the occasion was for, but you were grateful for the invite. Gojo often stopped by at your workplace, occasionally accompanied by Itadori, to greet you and grab a sweet drink. But you unfortunately never had the time to properly sit down with him and catch up.

Out of all sorcerers you had met so far, Gojo was the most mysterious. After all, what sort of man wore a blindfold in public? And now that you thought about it, how did he always seem to know when you were working? Especially since your work schedule differed from week to week...

Weird.

Gojo: Great! I’ll send you the time and place later~

You: Thanks! See you then!

You were about to text Nanami and tell him you were looking forward to dinner when one of your classmates called your name.

“Yes?” you asked, looking away from your phone.

“Want to join our study group? We’re heading to the library right now!”

“Yeah, sure! Coming!”

It was only after you left the library several hours later that you realized you had forgotten to text Nanami. But you figured it wasn’t a big deal since you would soon see him at dinner.

Nanami looked at his watch impatiently. It was already past 5 pm. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be back in his apartment, prepping dinner for you. “What are we doing here, Gojo? I need to get home.”

The white-haired calmly rested his arms behind his head with a suspicious smirk on his face. “Relax, Nanami. We’re waiting for a surprise.”

Itadori perked up beside him, looking up at his sensei with wide eyes. “A surprise?! What kind of surprise?”

Gojo chuckled. “The best kind.”

Nanami let out an exasperated sigh. He removed his sunglasses and put them in his pocket. The three sorcerers were standing around in the middle of a busy street filled with pedestrians. “I don’t have time for such frivolities, Gojo. Excuse me, but I’m leavi—”

“Wait!” Gojo exclaimed. He waved at someone in the crowd. “She’s here!”

“She?” Nanami repeated, trying to follow Gojo’s line of sight.

It was easy to spot Gojo, even amongst the giant, moving crowd. The tall man towered over everyone else and his bright, white hair easily stood out in the background. You could see him waving his hand at you, so you waved back.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you joined up with the three sorcerers with an excited grin. “Hi!”

“Say hello to the surprise,” Gojo announced, waltzing over to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Itadori looked thrilled to see you, but as your eyes shifted to Nanami, you immediately sensed something was wrong.

“Gojo, you did tell Kento you invited me, right?” you asked cautiously, looking up at the tall man.

The sorcerer hummed to himself for several seconds before responding. “Nope!”

You blanched. Uh oh. You should have texted him.

Nanami didn’t look too visibly upset, but he was pinching the bridge of his nose with a frown. When would that idiot stop meddling with his personal life behind his back?

“Na-na-mi,” Gojo said in a singsong voice. “Are you excited to see your stunning, beautiful, and gorgeous girlfriend? Shouldn’t you be thanking me for bringing her here?” The white-haired sorcerer pulled you even closer to him. He didn’t miss the way Nanami’s eyes instantly narrowed at him.

Nanami grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of Gojo’s grasp until you were comfortably nestled against his side. He couldn’t stand seeing that man's hands on you. “Don’t let him touch you. His idiocy is contagious.”

You giggled at the comment. Gojo let out a satisfied hum, watching the two of you together. “Alright, lovebirds!” He clapped his hands together. “It’s time for dinner!”

“Dinner?!” Itadori gasped. He started salivating at the thought of food. “Gojo-sensei, what are we eating?”

The tall sorcerer patted the top of Itadori’s head affectionately. “To celebrate Yuji’s last night as a dead man, we’re going to a steakhouse!”

The kid loudly cheered as you looked to Nanami for clarification.

“Itadori is being introduced back to the school tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.” Gojo had told you before that the Itadori was supposed to be dead and not to mention his existence to anyone. You didn’t understand why and you didn’t ask, but you kept your promise. The young sorcerer bounced around excitedly before hugging Gojo. You couldn’t help but smile at the adorable interaction.

“Let’s hurry up, so we’re not late for our reservation.” Gojo started walking quickly through the crowd with Itadori right by his side. You and Nanami were a little ways behind them as you found it hard to keep up with Gojo’s brisk pace. He pressed a warm hand against your lower back, guiding you through the large crowd.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that Gojo invited me,” you apologized. Even though Nanami said he would be more open about the jujutsu world, you knew he was still sensitive about you spending too much time around other sorcerers. “I was going to text you but then some classmates asked me if I wanted to study with them, and I said yes because you know I need all the help I can get, and then I completely forgot to message you and by the time I left the library and actually remembered I didn’t text you, I thought it wasn’t worth it since I was going to be seeing you at dinner soon, and I, uh, yeah.” You winced, realizing you were rambling yet again.

“It’s not your fault,” he assured you. “That idiot always has something up this sleeve.”

“You’re not upset, right?”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back. It sent a tingle up your spine. “I'm not upset," Nanami replied honestly. "I’m glad you’re here.”

You slid into the booth at the steakhouse. Itadori was already seated across from you. Gojo was about to take the open seat next to you, but Nanami grabbed the back of the man’s uniform and shoved him away.

“Hey!” the sorcerer loudly complained.

Nanami sat down next to you, completely unbothered. “Sit with your student, Gojo.” You tried to stifle your laughter, looking at the two men in complete amusement.

Gojo slid into the booth next to Itadori with a carefree grin. Teasing Nanami was too easy when you were around.

The four of you had a pleasant dinner together. Your only complaint was the way Nanami rubbed your thigh with his left hand the entire time while waiting for the food to arrive. You were wearing a rather short dress which rode up as you sat down, giving him perfect access to your bare skin. It was incredibly distracting.

You were a little surprised that Nanami was doing something like this in public, even though it was mostly hidden from sight. Part of you wondered if it was because Gojo was present. Nanami always acted a little differently with you when the other sorcerer was around.

For some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that Gojo knew exactly what was happening underneath the table. Even with his blindfold on, you could tell that the sorcerer was looking right at you with a knowing smile on his face. You felt a little flustered, but Nanami seemed completely unperturbed. Perhaps it was just your imagination.

After dinner, you followed Itadori out the front door of the restaurant.

“Ah! I’m so stuffed!” he commented with a satisfied hum, rubbing his belly.

“I hope you still have room for some dessert.”

The two of you turned back to look at Gojo. Nanami was only a couple of steps behind him.

“Oh! Dessert? Don’t worry, Sensei. I always got room for that!” He gave Gojo a thumbs up.

“Great! I happen to know an amazing ice cream shop around the corner!” You blinked in surprise as the white-haired sorcerer wrapped a long arm around your shoulder again and started ushering you towards the destination. “Let’s get going!”

What you didn’t see was the way Gojo turned his head back to send a smug look to his dear friend. Nanami glared at the sorcerer but didn’t intervene. The walk to the shop was short, and you didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, happily chatting away with Itadori about the best and worst ice cream flavors.

It wasn’t until you all arrived at the shop that you pulled away from Gojo and latched onto his arm instead. “What are you going to get?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. What do you want?” he asked.

You looked at the menu, eyes squinting in concentration. “I’m stuck between Peanut Butter Cup and Mint Chocolate Chip.”

“Pick one and I’ll get the other. We can share.”

Your eyes widened. “Really? You don’t have to.”

Nanami smiled softly at that adorable look on your face. He gently tucked a hair away from your face. “I like both of those flavors anyway.”

Itadori and Gojo silently exchanged looks with one another. They were both internally squealing at the cute exchange they just witnessed between the two of you. It was rare to see such a soft side of Nanami in public.

“Nanami,” Gojo cooed, a little jealous. “Do you want to share some ice cream with me too?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Huh? Why not?” the sorcerer whined.

“Because you’ll get the most sickening ice cream flavor of them all.”

Nanami was absolutely correct.

Gojo ordered a large cone of triple chocolate ice cream with chunks of brownies, cookie dough, and fudge mixed with swirls of caramel and marshmallow.

It was a complete abomination.

The four of you sat outside, enjoying the nice weather while indulging in ice cream. You thought it was cute how Itadori’s strawberry cone almost matched the color of his hair. Once everyone finished their dessert, the group finally split up. You waved goodbye at Gojo and Itadori. “Good luck tomorrow, Itadori!” He had shared with you earlier about how excited (and a little nervous) he was to see his classmates again. You hoped the reunion went well.

It was a quiet walk home with Nanami. The two you held hands, enjoying the calm atmosphere now that Gojo and Itadori were both gone.

As soon as you entered Nanami��s apartment, you took off your shoes as Nanami removed his blazer. “I had a good time tonight,” you mused. “Itadori is such a sweetie, and Gojo—”

Your words were cut off with a gasp as Nanami roughly pushed you against the wall. He put a knee in between your legs, and one of his hands began to crawl up your exposed thigh. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, shivering as you felt the pleasant tingle of his touch. He gave you such a heated look that it left you swallowing nervously.

“I don’t want to hear another man’s name out of your mouth tonight,” he growled in your ear.

You looked back at him, both half-amused and half-aroused. “I’m only yours, Kento.”

“Good.”

Nanami whisked you away to the bedroom as you laughed breathily in his arms.

---

Nanami surveyed the numerous body bags in the morgue of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

“Three Grade 2 sorcerers. One Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer. Five Auxiliary Managers. Two storage attendants,” Ijichi listed off the number of casualties.

Nanami clenched his fists. “This is the same curse that Itadori and I fought together, correct?”

“Yes,” the manager replied, pushing up his glasses. “Shoko confirmed that the bodies were all disfigured in the same manner.”

The sorcerer grit his teeth in frustration. He blamed himself. If he had been able to exorcise the curse back then, these innocent lives might have been spared. After all, it was his fault that Mahito had escaped. He hadn’t been quick enough.

“Gojo, can I have a private word with you?”

The white-haired sorcerer had been leaning against the wall the entire time, quiet for once.

“I’ll take my leave,” Ijichi announced, exiting the room.

Nanami broke the silence first.

“If anything happens to me, promise me you’ll take care of her.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked in an unusually serious tone.

“Mahito is still around. My attacks are not effective against him. He seems to have a special interest in me, so there is a high probability we will run into each other again. And I may not be lucky enough to have Itadori by my side then.”

“No.”

“What?!” Nanami whipped around to face the sorcerer. The fury in his eyes was hidden by his sunglasses, but Gojo could sense the anger all the same.

“No, I won’t promise to take care of her.”

“Gojo, you—”

“Stop acting like you’re trying to die.” Nanami stiffened. “Take care of her yourself. You’re strong.”

A tense silence hung in the air.

Nanami let out a deep breath.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

---

The next day, Nanami had just finished a mission when the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event ended. He came back to campus to see all the students in baseball uniforms. Wasn’t the second day dedicated to individual battles?

“Oh, Nanami!” Gojo called out, jogging over to him. He had forgone his blindfold for a pair of sunglasses and wore a simple button-up shirt and pants instead of his normal uniform. “Too bad you missed the game! We won!”

“The game?”

Gojo nodded with a devious look on his face. “Yup! This year, the Goodwill Event winner was determined by a baseball game!” He laughed victoriously.

Nanami shook his head. Only Gojo could successfully pull off a stunt like this in front of both school principals.

“By the way, we’re going out for some drinks tonight. Even Utahime and Mei Mei said they would join. You should come. And bring your girlfriend too.”

“Absolutely not.” There was potentially a traitor among the group, and Gojo thought it was a good idea to bring you into the mix? There was no way he was going to let that happen.

“Too bad. I already invited her.”

“You what?! ” Nanami fumed.

“You mad or something?”

Nanami thought about trying to strangle the white-haired sorcerer when his phone chimed. It was a message from you.

You: Gojo invited me out with you guys tonight. Is that ok?

“Is that her?” Gojo asked, trying to peek at Nanami’s phone screen.

“None of your business.”

He began typing his response.

“I know you won’t say no to her,” Gojo hummed. The other sorcerer ignored him.

Nanami: Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together?

You: I have to stay a lil late at work :( someone called out sick so I’ll just meet you all there

Nanami: You sure? I don’t mind waiting for you.

You: Yup it’s fine! See you tonight!

Nanami locked his phone and put it away.

“So?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“She’s coming,” Nanami grumbled.

The white-haired sorcerer clapped his hands together excitedly like he hadn’t planned for this to happen from the start. “Great! I’m looking forward to tonight!”

Nanami glared at him in response.

“What? You still mad?”

Nanami tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the table. You still hadn’t arrived yet. Utahime was somehow already drunk, loudly laughing at something Shoko said. Gojo was bothering Ijichi who was sputtering nervously, and Mei Mei was silently sipping on a cocktail she forced Gojo to buy for her. Nanami bit back a sigh. He missed you.

“I heard from a little birdie that you have a girlfriend now, Nanami. And a non-sorcerer one at that,” Mei Mei commented with a sly smile.

Nanami looked at Gojo, knowing exactly who this “little birdie” was, but the white-haired sorcerer turned away with a whistle.

“A girlfriend?!” Utahime gasped. She grabbed Shoko’s shoulders and violently shook her. “Shoko, did you know about this?”

The doctor was completely unfazed. “Yeah. We’ve all met her before except you and Mei Mei.”

Utahime covered her face and made dramatic sobbing noises. “Out of all of us, it’s Nanami who’s dating first?!”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. What was that supposed to mean?

“Shoko!” Utahime whined. “Will you marry me if I’m still single at 40?”

“I’ll do it!” Gojo quipped.

The Kyoto sorcerer made a disgusted gagging noise. “Like hell I would ever agree to that!”

“I’ll do it for money. How much would you pay me?” Mei Mei asked.

“You guys are all terrible!” Utahime exclaimed. She latched onto Shoko. “Only Shoko is nice to me!”

“But I never said I would marry you,” the doctor pointed out calmly.

The entire table burst into laughter. Nanami quietly sipped on his beer.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Your bright voice finally caught the man’s attention. You waved at the group, heading over. Nanami got up to greet you but a certain white-haired man beat him to it.

Gojo called your name happily, wrapping you into an unexpected bear hug.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Nanami commanded, immediately dragging the sorcerer off of you and kicking him back into his seat.

You chuckled lightly before hugging Nanami too. Hesitating for a little bit, you decided to kiss the man on the cheek. You knew he didn’t like PDA, but you still wanted to greet him affectionately.

“I think you missed,” Gojo pointed out.

Flushing in embarrassment at Gojo's comment, you were about to pull away and take a seat, but Nanami suddenly leaned down and kissed you on the lips deeply. It was so unexpected that you couldn’t suppress the noise of surprise that left your throat. You could vaguely hear the cheering and wolf whistles from the table which only made you blush more. Nanami finally pulled away, leaving you breathless.

“Now that’s more like it,” Gojo commented with a slow clap.

Ijichi covered his face with his hands, unable to believe he witnessed Nanami in such a manner. Utahime’s jaw dropped open in complete shock. Shoko was busy rummaging through her purse for a cigarette. Mei Mei raised her eyebrows, impressed at Nanami’s boldness.

Gojo gestured to you. “Well, say hi to Nanami’s girlfriend, everyone!”

You shyly waved at them. “Hi,” you squeaked, still embarrassed.

Even though you had the day off tomorrow, you hadn’t planned on drinking a lot during the night. But Utahime challenged all the girls to a drink-off and you couldn’t resist participating to get to know the other women better. Mei Mei only agreed to partake once Gojo confirmed he would cover everyone’s tabs.

It turned out that both Shoko and Mei Mei had incredibly high tolerances. You and Utahime on the other hand, not so much.

You groaned, struggling to climb the steps up to Nanami’s apartment. After watching your pitiful attempt, the sorcerer lifted you in his arms and carried you the rest of the way.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You felt bad that Nanami had to take care of you, especially because you had not intended to get this drunk.

“Don’t apologize.” He carefully set you down on your feet as he opened his apartment door. Nanami helped you wash up and get changed before joining you in bed once he was done with his own nightly routine.

You were practically laying on top of Nanami while rubbing a hand down his firm chest. When your hand started to wander lower, he gently took it and brought it up to his face to kiss it. “We should go to sleep.”

You pouted a little but mumbled in agreement, rolling off the man and nestling into his side instead. “Good night, Kento. Love you.”

Nanami stiffened, suddenly wide awake after hearing your words. He was filled with such an indescribable emotion that it left him completely speechless. Nanami was worried you would be upset that he hadn’t responded right away, but he was instead greeted by the familiar sound of your slow, deep breaths. You were asleep.

He let out a sigh. Nanami wondered if you would remember your confession in the morning, but he doubted it. Your memory was always spotty when you got this drunk.

Nanami kissed your head, stroking your hair gently.

“I love you too.”

---

“Is something wrong?”

Nanami didn’t even look up from the newspaper he was reading to address the white-haired sorcerer. “Everything is fine. Why are you asking?”

Gojo hummed, tapping a finger on his chin in thought. His sharp eyes took in his friend’s appearance. “You seem a bit tense. You didn’t have a fight with the girlfriend, did you?”

“Nothing of that sort happened. And even if it did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“So you did have a fight!” Gojo exclaimed.

Nanami turned the page. “No, we did not. And just to stop your incessant bothering, I will tell you that she has a very important exam today, so I have not seen her in several days to allow her to focus on studying.”

“Ahh, I see!” It made perfect sense to Gojo now. “You look so tense because you’re sexually frustrated!”

Nanami crumbled the edges of the newspaper in his hands. “I refuse to talk about such things with you.”

“Oh, but you’re not denying it,” Gojo pointed you. “Nanami, there is absolutely no shame in talking about our sex lives. We should be more open about sex to destigmatize it. For example, last week I—”

“I’m leaving,” Nanami suddenly announced. He folded up his newspaper and exited the lounge. He’d rather fight four Grade One curses single-handedly than hear about that man’s sex life.

---

Nanami couldn’t keep his hands off of you. As soon as you walked through his apartment door, cheering that you were finally done with your exam, he immediately pulled you into his arms and kissed you wantonly.

Your absence in the past few days was so striking. He had trouble sleeping and didn’t even feel like cooking without your familiar presence around him. It was so good to have you back again.

You giggled at his eagerness, looking up at him with a knowing smile. “Did you miss me?”

Nanami was already ushering you towards his bedroom.

“Let me show you just how much I missed you.”

The next morning, you stumbled out of Nanami’s bedroom with a loud yawn. You had no class or work for the day, so you were looking forward to lounging around Nanami’s apartment as a reward for suffering through your exam yesterday.

You perked up when you smelled something good in the air. Popping your head in the kitchen, you saw Nanami flipping pancakes.

“Good morning!” You eyed the pancakes with a hungry look.

“Good morning. Breakfast will be ready in a few,” Nanami replied, adding more batter into the pan.

“Okay!” You left to quickly get dressed for the day.

By the time you returned, Nanami was setting down a plate on the table piled high with fluffy blueberry pancakes.

“Thank you for breakfast!” you said with a wide grin, snatching two pancakes and putting them on your own plate.

After eating, Nanami looked at this watch with a small frown. “I have to go.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll clean everything up.” You headed over to the door where Nanami was slipping into his shoes and putting on his blazer. Before he opened the door, you stepped in to fix his tie that was just slightly askew.

“I’ll see you tonight, handsome?”

“Of course.”

For you, Nanami would do everything in his power to make sure he finished work on time and returned home as soon as possible. He used to look forward to the end of the workday because he hated working. But now he looked forward to the end of the workday because he got to see you.

As a jujutsu sorcerer, Nanami knew he couldn’t take anything for granted. Any amount of time spent with you was absolutely precious to him. So he wanted to make sure to maximize that amount of time as much as possible.

Nanami leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You blinked.

Huh?

Did he say…?

Wait, did you say....?

Your eyes widened in realization as you covered your mouth in shock.

Nanami said he loved you.

And you immediately said you loved him back.

The words had slipped right out of your mouth without you even realizing it.

“Enjoy your day off,” Nanami said nonchalantly before exiting the apartment. The door gently closed shut behind him.

When Nanami arrived at work, a certain white-haired sorcerer knew something was different about his friend.

“What happened with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gojo grabbed his phone and dialed a number quickly. “You owe me money, Mei Mei! I won the bet! I told you they would confess their love to each other before the end of the month.”

Nanami clenched his jaw.

Bet?

The sorcerer menacingly stood over Gojo, sword withdrawn and cursed energy swirling around him angrily. “What bet?”

Gojo removed the phone from his ear. Mei Mei could be heard angrily yelling from the device, clearly upset about losing a large sum of money. “Now, now, Nanami. You’re only this angry at me because I’m correct, right? You two finally confessed to each other?”

Nanami took his tie off and wrapped it around his hand.

The white-haired sorcerer threw his head back with a howl of laughter. “I’ll take that as a yes! But before you try to kill me, just know that a) it’s impossible and b) I only agreed to this bet to prove Mei Mei wrong. She didn’t think you had it in you to confess so soon! But I always had faith in you because I’m such a good friend!”

Nanami took a menacing step forward towards Gojo, but the sound of his phone chiming stopped his advance. Gojo took that as a sign to escape with his loud laughter still echoing in the hallways.

With a sigh, Nanami unlocked his phone to read the text from you.

You: Wanted to say I love you ♡

You: Just in case you didn’t hear earlier

You: But I’m pretty sure you did...

You: I just want to be sure

You: Anyways I’ll see you later :)

You: Miss you already

You: I'll try not to destroy your apartment

You: Ok sorry I'll stop bothering you now

He couldn’t wait to come home to you tonight.

#nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #mine #n/sfw

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rainandandy · 3 years

Text

Szabadság tér 16 (Yelena Belova x reader)

Words: 1,117

Pairing: Yelena Belova x reader, Yelena Belova x you

Summary: While in the safe house, you and Yelena go on a grocery run, but she gets distracted by the flower stall.

Budapest is a very warm city in the summer. It was not enough that you wanted to throw yourself out of the window of the seven storey building, but enough that you annoyed Yelena enough that she fanned you with some papers. You were both holed up in a safe house in Budapest together at the time. She had freed almost all of the black widows left behind after Dreykov's demise, but her last mission had gone awry and now she was being hunted by a few different state police forces.

Even though staying inside during this weather was almost unbearable, the bath served as a mini swimming pool and the small refrigerator served as an a/c unit. On the nights when the city would quieten down, she would push the mattress to the window, so you could count the stars with a cool breeze blowing over you.

She had been given a safe house by Mason and he had stocked it with medicine, supplies and food to last her a few weeks. When Yelena's wounds became infected and she asked for you to be the only person to take care of her, he personally flew you out. Now, it had been a few weeks, and the supplies were getting low. Even though you both knew it was the right thing to do, leaving was as dangerous as it could possibly be.

You brought Yelena some stuff to disguise her with. In order to conceal her blonde hair, she wore a black wig, a hoodie, sunglasses. Who am I, exactly? Clark Kent? As you brushed the wig into place, Yelena moaned, "This won't work.". She looked fine, but you liked her blonde better because she was more fun. As you handed her the sunglasses, you complimented her, "I think you look cute.".

We'll have to get black hair dye then, I guess."

"Nono!She smirked, knowing you loved her blonde hair. She surveyed her reflection and fixed a few bits of her hair. Picking up the concealer, you made your way to the girl to fix her yellowing bruise. I always have to take care of my poor baby girl".

"You should see the other guy." She laughed and pecked your nose and lips. At her affection, your smile grew. She would be the death of you. Her hand was in yours as you grabbed your bag and walked out of the room.

“We need a safe word,” Yelena started to explain. “For what? It’s not sex, just shopping” You laughed but her sudden serious tone made you listen. “No, just in case we see something that could be potentially dangerous and it is not safe for you”

“For me? You are still recovering, you are not strong enough to fight at this point"

“No, but I can fight them off and keep you safe until you get to the safe house” She kissed the knuckles on your hand as you descended the winding staircase together. It was your instinct to roll your eyes at the idea of her becoming your white knight. The last thing you would expect is for her to put herself in danger for you, though you would do it in a heartbeat for her. "Squash! Yes, squash!"", she nearly shouted as she reached the bottom step of the staircase.

"Pardon me?" you asked, her big smile beaming at you. Our safe word will be squash. When we hear squash, we leave. You can count on her to do anything to protect you.

You and Yelena could get all the necessities you needed at the nearby penny mart, which was only around the corner from the safe house. Yelena went straight for the junk food aisle when you were inside the grocery store, even though you had made a little list on a scrap of paper of all the things you needed. Her non-hurt arm was holding a small red basket containing chocolates and gummies that was filled with candy. "Yelena no, no, no!" You growled at the spy as she rolled her eyes and stumbled over to the fresh fruit and vegetables. Foods from the list were added and ticked off as you placed them in the cart. As you saw the pale yellow vegetable, you asked Yelena, "Do we need that today, sweetie?" pointing at it.

Yelena’s eyes, who were scanning each customer in the shop, snapped to the vegetable and then rolled far too dramatically for your liking. “Not yet, but if you’re not careful, I will make you scream it later”.

After smirking back at the moany assassin, you walked over to the frozen aisle to pick up a few chicken nuggets to satisfy her. As you were close to finishing, you noticed that Yelena was nowhere to be seen. In the aisles you walked back and forth without spotting any sign of your girlfriend and your mind started to race with all the thoughts of what could have happened. It is possible that someone could have seen her and taken her just like that. There would be no way for you to track her down. She was just gone. While the panic set in, you were quickly repeating the word squash over and over to yourself.

Then you heard giggling coming from the front of the store. Walking up, it was evident Yelena was chatting with a child at the flower stand. There are roses, tulips, sunflowers, lilies, and all other kinds of beautiful flowers you can't possibly name. She took the sunflower and ran the petals on the young girl's nose, and as she giggled, Yelena's smile grew bigger and bigger.

Since she has lost so much of her childhood and she is frantically trying to cling to the memories she has of Ohio, she is only capable of showing kindness to children. She complimented the blond child, "This one smells just like you", she picked up the rose and held it out so the little one could smell it as well. As you watched Yelena interact with someone she was genuinely happy to talk to, you felt your heart melt. You didn't have to worry for a second that they were going to hurt her in any way. It was really amazing to see how open she became around children, and you hoped that she would be like that when you had kids, if you two were to have children of our own.

She smiled at you as she went over to pick up a bouquet of flowers and made her way to meet you at the cashier desk, where you were waiting. Her eyes twinkled and she winked at you, "I have a new friend.". There was a moment in which you joked to her, "I see. Maybe I'll leave the safe house and you two can play together", you responded. It seems to me like I can only play with you tonight," she said smirking, and you can bet you would have a lot of fun in bed with her.

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looooooooomis · 4 years

Text

F I N A L G I R L | T H R E E

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t t h r e e | j e a l o u s y

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.3k warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x

I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x

That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.

Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.

But that didn’t stop Steve.

Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.

The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.

All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.

“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”

“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?

He couldn’t stomach it.

His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.

Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.

Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.

“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”

“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”

Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”

That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.

At least where you were concerned.

“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”

“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”

You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”

“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”

Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”

You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”

Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”

“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”

“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”

“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”

Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”

With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”

You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”

With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.

“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”

You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”

Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.

“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.

You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”

“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”

Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.

“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.

“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”

Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.

Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.

»»-------------¤-------------««

You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.

So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.

But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.

A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.

Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.

Dote over your best friend.

Oh, the irony was delicious.

Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.

The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.

Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.

Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”

“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”

Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.

“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”

You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.

You said nothing.

Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.

“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”

Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”

Bastard.

You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.

Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.

You had to go downstairs.

“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”

Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”

“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”

Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”

His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.

“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.

“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”

Feeding the enemy. Typical.

“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”

Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.

You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.

Your stomach dropped at the thought.

“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.

“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”

Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”

The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.

“Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”

“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”

He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”

A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”

“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”

“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”

“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”

“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”

“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”

You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”

“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”

“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”

“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”

“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”

A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.

“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”

You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”

The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.

You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.

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jesslockwood · 3 years

Text

Photo Opportunities

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF with a slightly (barely) suggestive sentence towards the end

A/n: damn I can't write anything except actress reader? smh but this is for @londonspidey ‘s sit-com Writing challenge (ik I'm early lol) but I was so excited I wrote the whole thing in one go lmao the prompt is bolded!

Calling yourself a fan was an understatement. You were obsessed with anything and everything marvel. And oddly enough, you could after today say you were in the club. It wasn’t a public fact yet, until later that day actually, at the Marvel panel at comic con that you were being announced as the actress for the character, Felica Hardy and no one else knew except for the people who cast you and your best friend who signed an NDA. You were technically still a known actress for your roles on television mainly as Thalia on the PJO Disney + series and a couple of still decently sized films.

You were currently wrapping up signing autographs for fans of yours for today. Your team had planned it out so it wasn’t suspicious that you were at the con with a few of your castmates scattered doing other junkets and press so people wouldn’t guess who they were acting as the cast for new marvel projects.

You had been planning to go meet your best friend, who wasn’t in the industry before getting a text that she bought you both a photo-op with someone and she wouldn’t tell you who. You couldn’t only assume it was a marvel actor that you would indeed, freak out.

Y/b/n: btw I brought you a mask. I get the wig lol.

You: please tell me it doesn’t cover my full face. Also, how are we posing?

Y/b/n: I bought as many photo ops as I could so a lot of different ones, And if I tell you the poses it’ll spoil it.

You: is this with the money I pay you to be my assistant with? Lol fine I’m omw with security

Y/b/n: maybe…

Y/b/n: and they’ll need more backup security for who we’re getting a photo op with than you do for your hellfire.

You roll your eyes before taking your stuff and exiting the booth, before heading out the backways with staff security and your detailed security for the day. You only had security because you wanted to explore the con when you weren’t needed.

Your best friend had also been your assistant for the con weekend, but you didn’t want her to be confined to you the whole three days so when she could, you would let her explore it, at least she could experience it as a fan, right?

When you made it to that part of the building, you wanted to wait in line with her, which your security didn’t agree to so she texted you when there were about five people ahead of her. She was one of the last in line, with you asking her to be kind, so others would get their chance to be first with whomever it was.

When she texted you and your detailed exit, getting a few stares and others taking their phones out to either take photos or tweet, you wave at them before joining your best friend in line.

“Here,” she says before handing you none other than a black cat mask before she puts on a red wig.

You glare at her slightly trying to not make a scene, before putting it on.

“I’m assuming you're Mary Jane?” you laugh figuring out that it had to be someone from Spider-Man.

“How’d you- never mind.” She laughs with you.

She then explains how she’s going to pose for your five photo ops, joking in between how she should “get a raise for this”.

You catch sight of him before sucking in your breath. This was either going to go down amazingly or terribly, there was no in-between with you.

“Excuse Me, are you Y/n Y/l/n?”

You turn around and are met by some fans who were standing in line behind you.

“I am! How’s your con going?” you ask politely to the two of them.

“It's going amazing! We love you as Thalia! Could we maybe get a picture? Only if it’s okay?”

“Of course! Thank you for supporting me!” your best friend grabs their phone to take the photo, before you take off the mask, and stand between the two fans, and your best friend snaps a few photos.

“Thank you so much! And Are you fans of Tom?”

You start slowly walking back to catch up to the line.

“Yeah, I love him as Spiderman, but I also enjoy his other roles. He's very talented, I'd love to work with him one day!”

“Have you seen him in Uncharted? We love Him as Nathan drake!”

“I have, he was amazing per usual! How are you two posing with him?”

They show you their innovative pose. You laugh and tell them it's great before you have to wish them goodbye before heading up for your turn for the photo op.

“How do we want to pose- hang on, I recognize you!”

You freeze slightly before your friend mouths for you to flirt. You look down at the mask in your hand before getting into character and saying “Of course you do Spidey, I'm always causing you trouble.” you put on the mask and wink.

He seems slightly stunned, laughing, feeling like he’s seen you somewhere, not only because he found you extremely gorgeous, while in his peripheral vision he sees his brother/ assistant, Harry waving like a madman on the side.

Your friend directs you both through the poses, first, one both him putting “webs” onto you as she looks over his shoulder, the second one, both of you kissing his cheeks, the third, all jumping in the air in your best superhero poses, the fourth one she gets a photo op alone and the last one she gives to you,

“Seriously, who are you?”

“Your Wildest dreams, baby,” you say, taking off the mask.

Your best friend yells “freestyle” from the sidelines before Tom dips you, gently, with you shocked, holding the mask out with your free arm and the photo captures that moment.

He gently helps you stand back up fully, not before you drop the mask.

“Nice moves Spider-Man.”

“Not so bad yourself, Black Cat.”

You laugh before, taking off with your best friend, well more her dragging you to the printing station leaving the mask behind. Tom picks it up before shoving it in his back pocket to hopefully give back if he could find you.

`You were sitting in the green room, trending on Twitter before you were actually supposed to be trending on Twitter, and god knows where else.

Someone had snuck a video of you and Tom, up till him dipping you, and a video of you interacting with the fans in the line.

Your Y/b/n was currently reading off some tweets out loud

“‘A kind queen we stan.’ I agree, I also agree with ‘Date her if you can't date me tom!!!’.

‘THALIA AND PETER PARKER??? My two fandoms have collided.’ same, same. Oo this one says, ‘if she ain’t playing black cat I will sue marvel.’ I'm dying at the reply ‘She needs to post the photos or I'll sue her!’. This one’s funny, ‘she could squash him like a bug in heels but he liked his queen like that.’.”

She pauses watching you texting.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

“What? Sorry I was only half listening. I was texting my publicist. She said to stay on the DL until tonight.

“Well we should get food, you haven't eaten since this morning.”

“By the way, your show has shot to number one on Disney +. Also, you have like three times the followers you had before, probably cause you're trending on every platform, even Tumblr!”

“Wow you should just become my social media manager now.” you joke trying to ease the joy yet weirded out feeling in your stomach.

“Does that come with a raise? Because after today I've spent way too much of what I'm paid.” she jokes back.

After finishing his photo ops Tom asked Harry who she was and to find out. By the time he finished autographs for the day, Tom and Harry walked to the panel room in the back for announcements, one that included him for the new Avengers movie, while Harry gave him the rundown.

“So she’s an actress, she plays Thalia on Disney plus’ Percy Jackson series, and that's her most known project. The other girl with her is her assistant best friend, and now she's trending everywhere. People dug up some old photos of her being a marvel/Spider-Man fan, so there's that. And she's here at the con for the rest of the weekend. She's doing photo ops tomorrow at one, and yes she's single from what I gather since you were looking at her like this.” he makes a weird face before tom smacks him.

“And plus you have time in your schedule to get a photo op with her, that is if you eat lunch quickly.”

That gave Tom an idea.

“Harry I’m going to need you to book me one, oh and help me find a Spider-Man costume!” He says, before leaving harry to do ‘assistant’ work. entering the green room for the announcements, watching them announce a new movie.

“We are so excited to announce to the Marvel Universe, and spider-verse-” that perked tom’s ears, “-directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and today we are announcing our amazing Miss Felicia Hardy, please give a warm welcome to the stage, Your Black Cat!”

You suddenly emerged in an aisle way, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, black ankle boots, and of course black sunglasses indoors.

The music is marvel music until it suddenly changes after a recorded laugh from you into “I can’t be tamed by Miley Cyrus”.

You start owning the music while saying hi and touching fans’ hands. You decide to take off your sunglasses and throwing them to a fan, for them to keep, before getting on stage.

“What a Performance from the one the only Y/n Y/l/n!”

You laugh, being met with the loudest applause you had heard all con before being handed a Mic.

“Thank you but I'm a terrible dancer.” You Joke.

Tom was staring at the screen stunned. You had been the black cat all along. You were in the marvel universe and spidey one, so he'd definitely be seeing more of you. The hard part is that you seemed so genuine when you talked, interacted with fans and was no doubt, stunning.

“Better close your mouth or the flies will get in.” Tom turns around to find the voice of none other than his friend slash bully, Sebastian Stan, along with Anthony Mackie.

“Looks like the kid has a crush!” Anthony laughs, pointing to the screen you were on.

“I-I don’t! I don’t even know her!” Tom tries to come to his own defense, hopelessly.

“She’s got you whipped already don’t even deny it.” Harry comes in, joining the teasing of one, Tom Holland.

“Maybe we can invite her out for drinks tonight, then fanboy over here can meet her, and then probably scare her off!” Anthony mentions.

“You haven’t looked on the internet? They’ve already met.” Seb says, before showing Anthony twitter.

Anthony stands there slightly shocked before bursting into laughter.

“Well, she’s damn well a keeper for Tom since she obviously likes him.”

A staff member peaks their head in the green room to tell Tom he’s up next.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave you two!”

On the other hand, you were on an adrenaline high from being on stage, and seeing all the fans. You knew tomorrow was going to be crazy, as you expected people to book your photo op left and right since the announcement.

You had decided to decline an offer from your fellow marvel universe castmates, Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie, which they so graciously told you that whenever you’re free, the offer still stood.

You had gotten to your hotel room seeing your phone blowing up on the social media apps for the second time that day.

You responded to the important stuff, before heading to bed, knowing it was going to be hectic.

You had been right, it was absolutely insane, the number of people who showed up. You had fully booked all your time slots for photo ops. You had seen so many people dressed up in marvel cosplay, ranging from Loki to Ironman, even some people dressed up as your character, which was wildly insane to see.

You had been nearing the end of the line and had enjoyed every moment with the fans, and you couldn’t wait for your autographing session later that day, to truly get a chance to talk to the fans and connect with them and how they felt about you being their beloved Black Cat.

After a few more photos, posing how they wanted, you see a fully dressed, head to toe, mask and all, Spider-Man. You had seen some spider-mans but most took off their masks to snap a picture. The person was the last in line.

“Hey Black Cat.” The southern American accented voice tells you, seeming very familiar.

“Hey, Spider, what poses do you have up your sleeve?” you ask kindly.

“I bought a few, Cat.” they laugh.

“Okay, You can do whatever a spider can right?” you pull out a line out of the comics jokingly.

“I can do flips if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working.” you laugh.

“I really can, but this is one.”

He gets down on one knee, holding a black cat mask instead of a ring. The photographer captures the shocked expression on your face.

“I- Don’t- What- Spider I-”

“Ow My feelings…” Suddenly their voice changes into a British accent before they pull off the mask to reveal-

“Tom?”

“I guess you don’t have a spidey sense darling?” The photographer captures the moment without warning eating the moment up.

You laugh at that.

“I guess you found out my true identity Spider. And it’s nice to officially meet you, Tom.”

He laughs, just as nervous as you, he notices he has gotten closer to you and a strand of hair loosely is blowing in your face, so naturally, he pushes it behind your ear. Another snap of the camera can be heard.

“NOW KISS!” a voice belonging to your best friend yells from the side, mid-eating a churro.

You both laugh really hard at that.

The both of you calm down, slowly leaning lost in the moment. The camera snaps again. You both look at the photographer weirded out, and they just shrug.

“Wait can you actually do a flip?” you ask, pulling away, not wanting prying eyes aka the photographer, to pry in your business.

“I can, though I’d show you later, maybe in the greenroom?”

“That sounds naughty, but, sure.” you joke around.

He laughs before, you both take off from the area going to grab the photos.

After spending most of the day together when you could, you get Tom’s number, before heading back to your hotel room. He texts you as soon as you get back.

Spider: I had fun today, minus finding our assistants making out.

You: we should ‘snog’ too, it’ll gross them out ;)

You: I had fun too btw. Are you leaving tomorrow?

Spider: lol we should. And yeah an early flight, 6 am to be exact. Hbu?

You: Yeah me too... another day another dollar lol

Spider: ill miss you, Cat.

You: stop talking like we’ll never see each other again lol. As a matter of fact, come to my room, we’re watching a movie!

Spider: alright, I’ll order snacks.

You sigh smiling at your phone. You haven’t felt this giddy in a long time.

Your phone pings with a few Instagram notifications.

Tomholland2013 has started following you.

Tomholland2013 has tagged you in a photo.

You open Instagram to find the photo of him “proposing” to you posted.

“Ow, my leg, my- feelings...Welcome to the Universe, Cat.” the photo is captioned. You decide to post, the photo of him dipping you.

“So what do you say, Spider? Wanna help me pull off the Heist of the Heist of the Century?” you caption it, Before getting comfortable to watch a movie.

What an opportunity ;)

Tags:

@lolooo22 @webmeupspiderdaddy @harryhollandsgirlfriend @spideyspeaches @greenorangevioletgrass @queenofthepouges @sheranatic111 @keithseabrook27

#tom holland #peter parker #marvel #spider-man #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #comic con #ace comic con seattle #ace con #comiccon #Katies4kwc

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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 3 years

Text

hear those bells ring: chapter 4 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo and Reader finally get a moment alone, and important conversations are had. Over dinner of course ;)

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Adult language.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 4, but it’s over 10k, so hope that makes up for it lol Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 3 Tumblr Link: Here

“Great. See you then.”

The words ricocheted around your head like pinballs, and all you could do was stare as Dynamight turned on his heel and strode out of your ruined shop like he couldn’t stand to be there a second longer.

“Bak—bro, c’mon!” Red Riot, or Kirishima as he insisted, called after the blond, who didn’t stop. Then the redhead turned back to you, clapping his hands in front of his face and bowing his head. “I’m so sorry about him. He can be a little…”

“Direct?” you offered when the hero trailed off into silence for a beat to long.

“I was gonna say he can be a little bit of a dick, but that sounds better,” Kirishima laughed, and you felt your face flush when he aimed that charming grin in your direction.

You’d heard stories of how charismatic Red Riot was. He was a popular, mainstream favorite hero. The gossip magazines were always covered with his shirtless pictures that never failed to rile up the female population, even Mrs. Kojima and her old lady friends.

But nothing could have prepared you for being in front of him, for having him wink and smile at you, even if you logically knew he wasn’t coming onto plain old you. He was currently wearing a dark hoodie and non-descript jeans, but you could still see the definition of his muscles through the bulky clothing, which definitely wasn’t helping matters.

“W-Well, I’m sure you and D-Dynamight have more important places to be,” you stuttered as you averted your eyes. “I-I don’t want to keep you from any hero business.”

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint, I’ll get out of your hair,” Kirishima chuckled as he held his hands up.

Your face burned even hotter, if that was possible. “N-No! I mean—”

“Just a joke.” The redhead winked at you again as he started to back up toward the front door, his boots crunching over glass and debris. “I’ll see you later, though. Oh! And, uh, make sure you’re on time tonight for Bak—Dynamight’s pick up. He really hates tardiness.”

“Noted,” you murmured as your stomach bottomed out inside you.

“Don’t look so terrified!” the pro hero laughed, pausing in the frame of your broken doorway. “I promise he’s not so bad once you get to know him. All bark, no bite, remember? But if he does bark at you too much, just let me know, and I’ll be sure to leash him.”

Kirishima shot another sharp-toothed grin at you, and you strained your facial muscles to try and flash him a small smile in return. You weren’t very successful, since Red Riot’s bright expression dimmed a fraction, but thankfully he didn’t come back into the store.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he said in a more serious but reassuring tone. “We can get breakfast! I know all the great places around the agency.”

“O-Okay.” You didn’t know what else to say. Why was this pro hero offering to take you to breakfast? Was this just because of the news? You’d seen how the media had been tearing into Dynamight the last two days, calling him reckless, arrogant. Several interviews with the other heroes who’d been on the scene didn’t help matters, either, since by their accounts, they almost had the villain handled before Dynamight stepped in.

Maybe Red Riot was just trying to butter you up so you didn’t help with Dynamight’s crucifixion.

What the redhead didn’t know, however, was you couldn’t say a word against the blond, even if you wanted to.

“Okay,” Kirishima echoed and drew you out of your thoughts. The pro hero flashed you one last smile and put two fingers to his forehead in a jaunty salute. “Have a good rest of your afternoon and evening! And when you get to the agency, if you need anything, just let our PR manager Nao know. Take care!”

With that, the redhead pulled up the hood on his sweatshirt, slipped on his sunglasses, and ducked out of your store. Seconds later, he was gone.

A beat of silence passed by, then two, and then you felt your knees give out from under you as you collapsed to the floor. Pain flared through your lower legs as you struck the hard, debris-strewn tile, but you barely registered the discomfort. Your breathing started to quicken, coming out in harsh pants, and the two paper bags in your arms crinkled with the motion.

“Fuck,” you exhaled as tears blurred your vision, lifting a shaky hand to grasp tightly at your hair. “Fuck.”

You’d been so stupid. Yesterday, when neither Dynamight nor the police came banging down your hotel room door, you thought maybe you were just being paranoid. That the blond pro hero hadn’t noticed anything unusual, and you could just go living your normal, unimportant life.

Of course, the universe just had to prove you wrong.

Because if you had any doubts before, they were gone now, evaporated under Dynamight’s hot, crimson glare.

He knew your secret, and he was going to confront you about it. Tonight. Why else would he insist on picking you up? Alone. You’d heard Red Riot say he was patrolling this evening, so he wouldn’t be around to play buffer between you and Dynamight, which provided the perfect opportunity for an interrogation.

But what could you do? Refuse? Dynamight didn’t seem to be the type to take the word “no” very well. Run? The expression you’d seen on his face before he left clearly told you that you wouldn’t make it very far. Besides, where would you go? Your parents were in America, and as you embarrassingly admitted to that detective the other night, you didn’t have any friends.

And, until your apartment and shop were renovated, you didn’t have a place to sleep, and you didn’t have the spare money to live out of a hotel, so the agency was really your only option.

Well, there was prison, too, you supposed. Maybe Dynamight was just going to pick you up and take you straight to the police station.

He’s not going to turn you in, a small, hopeful voice inside of you said. He would have already done so if that was his goal.

There was logic behind that sentiment, but it offered you no comfort.

Because if Dynamight didn’t want to turn you in, what did he want from you?

~*~*~*~*~

“Mrs. Kojima,” you sighed for the millionth time. “I’m going to be fine. And I really can’t take all of this with me.”

You gingerly passed the large paper bag full of glass food containers back to Tadashi, Mrs. Kojima’s teenaged grandson, who stared at the bag with the hunger only a sixteen-year-old boy could achieve.

“Fine?” the old Japanese lady scoffed, narrowing her dark eyes at you. “You would be fine in a nice, fancy hotel, not in a building with those… those… delinquents!”

“Delinquents?” you couldn’t help but laugh. “They’re pro heroes. Famous pro heroes, some of the top in the country.”

“If they’re so good, they wouldn’t have destroyed your home,” Mrs. Kojima huffed before she used her cane to nudge her grandson. “And Tadashi, give the poor girl back her food. Your face is too gaunt to be healthy, girl, and don’t think I can’t see those circles under your eyes.”

The boy sighed as he stared longingly at the homemade food, and you could have sworn he was drooling, but he obeyed his grandmother and extended the bag to you again.

“No, please, keep it,” you insisted as you waved your hands in front of you, taking a step back. “I-I don’t know if there will be a place to keep food in my room, and I don’t want to bother them too much.”

“You should bother them, since they’ve been such a bother to you,” the old lady said as she nudged you this time with her cane. “You are too nice. I always say this. You need to be more selfish.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You smiled. “But thank you for thinking of me, Mrs. Kojima. It was very kind for you and Tadashi to come see me off.”

“How many times must I tell you to call me Ayano?” the elderly woman groused, tapping your shin with her cane again. “And of course we came. I wasn’t going to let you stand alone on a dark street and wait for that monster of a man.”

“Grandma!” Tadashi gasped as he looked up from salivating into the bag of food. “Dynamight is the number two hero! He’s not a monster, he’s the coolest!”

“I’ve seen him on TV,” his grandmother sniffed. “Always yelling and swearing. And Mr. Takeyoshi said he was very rude the other night. Not to mention all the damage he caused! Nothing but a foul-mouthed delinquent.”

“Grandmaaaaa,” Tadashi whined.

You sided more with Mrs. Kojima on this one, but the absolute adoration on the boy’s face made a small smile tug at your lips.

But your amusement quickly faded as you glanced down at your phone again.

6:58.

Said foul-mouthed delinquent should be here any minute.

As if your thoughts summoned him, the squeal of tires suddenly echoed through the otherwise quiet twilight, and you turned—with a pit in your stomach—to face the intersection down the road. Your street had been blocked off by barricades since the asphalt was still missing in patches, so the sleek, black car that had just pulled up was forced to park on the corner and put on its hazards.

Your heart was hammering beneath your sternum, beating out a frantic, hummingbird rhythm, and you watched the car door get flung open, a lithe figure ducking out a moment later. The last rays of fading sunlight glinted off his ash blond hair before he pulled up his hood, but then he was looking in your direction, and even if he was too far to see the details of his face, you felt the instant his eyes locked onto you.

“Holy shit, is that him?” Tadashi asked behind you, followed by a yelp as his grandmother smacked him with her cane.

“Language,” she hissed, but the rest of her sentence was drowned out by the blood roaring through your ears as Dynamight started to walk toward you.

No, not walk. Stalk. He looked like a predator slinking down the sidewalk, dressed in black and skimming through the shadows. There were a few people milling about the street, your neighbors who were still trying to clean up, but the pro hero paid them no mind. His gaze was still zeroed in on you, and your breath grew more shallow with each step he took.

Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, you chanted in your head. And smile! Try not to look like he’s your executioner.

You plastered on a smile, but it felt jagged like the broken street you stood on, your cheeks aching from the strain.

Finally, after what felt like a blink and an eternity simultaneously, Dynamight came to a stop about ten feet away from you on the sidewalk. His hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, his face was a cold mask on the tipping point of a scowl, and his eyes felt like red-hot embers burning into your face.

“At least you know how to be punctual,” he said without preamble, his voice as sharp as his scarlet gaze.

You heard Mrs. Kojima gasp behind you, followed by Tadashi frantically trying to shush her under his breath, so you cut the old lady off before she could say what was on her mind.

“T-Thank you for taking the time to escort me to the agency, Dynamight,” you said, bowing at the waist so you could get a moment’s reprieve from those red eyes. “It’s… very kind of you, since I know you must be busy with your hero duties.”

Mrs. Kojima harumphed behind you, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself before you straightened up.

Dynamight’s crimson gaze had lost none of its intensity, but he finally seemed to notice Tadashi and his grandmother over your shoulder, and when he spoke, he’s tone was a fraction of a degree softer.

“Yeah, well… it’s the least the agency can do,” he said evenly, like he’d memorized a script.

You wondered if Kirishima had said something to him after they left. Or maybe the PR manager the red-haired hero had mentioned?

Suddenly, you heard someone clear their throat behind you, and you winced.

“Sorry, this is Mrs. Kojima and her grandson, Tadashi,” you said, motioning to them. “They’re some of my customers who just wanted to see me off.”

“Customers,” Dynamight echoed as his red eyes raked over the pair. “For your stitching shop?”

Something about his tone seemed off, but you couldn’t place it.

“Alterations shop,” you corrected with a frown. “But yes.”

“Is that all?” he asked as his eyes locked with yours, and you felt your insides liquify.

Fuck. There was no way he could know that Mrs. Kojima and Tadashi had been “patients” of yours before. Right? Even if he knew about your quirk, that was a leap to make.

Then again, it did sound kind of weird for two random customers to take an interest in their seamstress’ personal life. You’d set yourself up for that one.

You opened your mouth, ready to clumsily explain, but Mrs. Kojima beat you to it.

“I knew her grandparents long before you were a thought in your daddy’s brain boy,” the old lady huffed as she hobbled forward to stand beside you, Tadashi stumbling after her. “So I check on her from time to time, especially when she’s meeting and going off with some no-good delinquent at night. Is that alright with you?”

“Mrs. Kojima—” you started as your eyes widened.

“Grandma!” Tadashi hissed, his face flushing with mortification.

Dynamight, for his part, actually smirked at the old lady’s attitude, amusement dancing in his red eyes as he finally shifted them off you.

“Well, Stitches here is gonna be fine,” he said with a sharp smile. “She’ll be staying in our finest suite, being waited on hand and foot for the next few weeks.”

Stitches? What the hell was that? Did he forget your name?

“Is that so?” Mrs. Kojima narrowed her dark eyes on the blond, and her expression said she didn’t trust the pro hero as far as she could throw him.

“Lucky,” Tadashi muttered under his breath.

“If you don’t believe me, you can call her tomorrow and check for yourself,” Dynamight said before he turned to face you completely, effectively cutting off any rebuttal from the Kojimas. “Are you ready? It’s cold, and the car’s running.”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, shifting the strap of your duffle bag higher up on your shoulder. “J-Just a second.”

You turned back to Mrs. Kojima, who was blatantly glaring daggers at Dynamight, but her expression softened as she shuffled in to hug you.

“Watch out for him,” she whispered in your ear. “And take care of yourself. If something’s wrong, call me, no matter what. You can stay with me, okay?”

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine,” you murmured as you pulled away. “I’ll call you when I know more about the shop’s repairs. Tadashi, take care of your grandma for me.”

“Bah!” Mrs. Kojima scoffed, shooing you back with her cane. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” You smiled as you grabbed the handle of your small rolling suitcase beside you. “Have a good night.”

You turned back to Dynamight to find him suddenly beside you, the scent of burnt sugar enveloping you a moment later. You inhaled so fast it whistled through your teeth, but the pro hero didn’t even look at you as he slipped his finger through your duffle bag’s strap and pulled it off your shoulder. He slung it on his back in one fluid movement, and then he was reaching for your suitcase, too.

“I-I got this one!” you said, a little too loudly, as you stumbled back a step and dragged the suitcase with you. “Thank you, but, um, I’ve got it.”

Dynamight pursed his lips at you, his eyes narrowing into crimson slits, but then his gaze jumped over your shoulder.

“Got something you want to say, kid?” he grunted, and he looked a little ridiculous with your pink and purple patterned duffle peeking out from over his shoulder.

“M-Me?” Tadashi gaped and glanced around quickly like there was anyone else within half a block, but when he realized Dynamight was still staring at him expectantly, the boy began to ramble. “I-I just, uh, I just wanted to say I think you’re the coolest hero there is. Even more than Deku! Man, I wish I could have seen the fight the other night. You probably wiped the floor with that villain! When I grow up, I hope I’m a hero half as cool as you.”

Dynamight actually seemed surprised by the boy’s adoring word vomit. The blond blinked as the suspicion and defensiveness drained from his face and posture, and then an easy smirk stretched across his lips.

“You got a quirk, kid?” he asked.

Mrs. Kojima made a face beside you like she was going to cut in, but you put a hand on her arm and gestured to Tadashi’s beaming face, and the old lady sighed and relented. She knew what this meant for her grandson.

“Yeah, I do!” Tadashi grinned and puffed out his chest before he shifted the bag of food in his grasp and held out his right hand. His brow buckled in concentration, but a moment later a flame exploded to life in his palm. The flame grew, flickering upwards as it twisted and twined, changing shape as it went. In the blink of an eye, the teenager held the hilt of a fiery dagger, which he twirled around his knuckles. “I can make different objects with flames, and they act solid when I concentrate hard enough.”

“That’s a pretty cool power,” Dynamight said as he eyed the flaming blade. “Bet you kick ass in your hero course.”

“I-I do alright,” Tadashi said as he extinguished the dagger, trying to go for a nonchalant shrug, but the effect was ruined by his mile-wide grin and heart eyes. “You really think it’s cool?”

“It’s only cool if you’re the best, so don’t slack off,” the blond scoffed. “Only losers half-ass their way through school.”

Mrs. Kojima’s face was silently scandalized, but Tadashi’s grew determined.

“Yes, sir!” the boy said as he bowed at the waist. “I’ll work hard to be the best of the best.”

“Good.” Dynamight smirked. “Then, when you graduate, you can come prove how strong you are by taking me on. Who knows? If you’re actually strong, we might hire a new side-kick.”

Tadashi looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head as he straightened up, but the pro hero only snickered as he spun on heel and began to stride away.

“You comin’, Stitches?” he called over his shoulder.

“C-Coming!” you called back before you flashed the Kojimas one last smile. “Have a good night and be safe going home!”

Then you took off down the sidewalk, your rolling suitcase clattering over the broken concrete behind you.

Dynamight’s legs were twice as long as yours and quickly ate up the distance to his car still parked on the corner, and you only caught up to him as he was tossing your duffle in the trunk.

You stood on the curb panting for a moment, just staring at him, and then the blond looked up and caught your eye.

“What?” he grunted.

“N-Nothing.” You cleared your throat and moved to pick up your suitcase, but he beat you to it, bending down and hefting the thing up in one fluid movement. The trunk slammed shut with a resounding thud, and the two of you were left staring at each other in silence.

“Get in,” Dynamight finally said, jerking his chin at the passenger door. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, yanked open the door, and slid inside without another word.

You could still feel the Kojimas’ eyes on your back, and you didn’t want to give them cause to worry, so you took a deep breath and got into the car.

Even though your heart was trying to break free of your ribcage.

The car itself was sleek and fancy, both inside and out. The seats were a supple red leather with ebony stitching, the dashboard shiny and inlaid with the newest gadgets, and you curled into the seat, afraid to even touch anything. This car was probably worth more money than you’d ever made in your entire life, and you had worked odd jobs since you were sixteen.

The engine rumbled to life as Dynamight cranked the ignition, warm air blasting out of the vents and thawing your red nose and cheeks. The dash said it was only eighteen degrees Celsius, but the wind had been brisk.

“Seatbelt,” the pro hero said as he yanked his own across his thick chest.

You swallowed tightly before you did as you were bidden, and the second you were secured, the blond was throwing the car in gear and peeling away from the curb. Your barricaded street disappeared in a blur, and suddenly you were on your way.

With Dynamight. Alone. In his car.

The luxurious interior of the vehicle began to close in on you, feeling more like the walls of a coffin, and you braced yourself for Dynamight’s interrogation.

Except… it never came.

Minutes passed by in silence, and all the while, the blond’s red eyes stayed focused on the road ahead. One of his hands casually gripped the steering wheel, the other wrapped around the gear shift, and every one of the hero’s movements was fluid, precise.

You tried not to, but you couldn’t help but study him out of the corner of your eye. His blank face gave nothing away, and neither did his slumped body language. He was covered in a dark hoodie and jeans again, so you couldn’t see much skin besides his hands and neck, but he looked… fine.

One would have never guessed that he nearly bled to death beneath your hands two days ago.

The memory of his blood, warm and tacky on your skin, made you clench your hands in your lap, and when you glanced over at the blond again, you nearly jumped out of your seat when you met red eyes.

“Now you got somethin’ you want to say, Stitches?” he asked as he shifted gears, smoothly pulling around another car.

“M-My name’s not Stitches,” you replied without thinking, but maybe this was a good thing. Thinking always got you in trouble.

“Yeah, no shit,” the blond snorted, darting a quick look at you again before turning back to the road. “But you keep starin’ at me, so spit it out.”

You fumbled for something to say, still thinking of his ashen face splattered with blood. “T-That was nice, what you said back there to Tadashi. He, um, really idolizes you, so you probably made his whole year.”

“Tch.” Dynamight clicked his tongue as he looked in the rearview mirror. “Chances are, kid probably won’t end up as much.”

You frowned. “But you said—”

“I know what I said,” he cut you off, eyes meeting yours again. “And I meant it. Slacking off is for losers. Still, the brat will probably end up as a B-lister at most, more likely just an extra. That’s just the damn odds.”

His words were harsh, but you knew they were true. There was no shortage of people signing up to be “heroes” in the world, but very few actually achieved the fame and notoriety of, say, All Might. Even years after his retirement, the Old Symbol of Peace was still talked about.

“Well… thank you for not saying that to Tadashi,” you murmured as you averted your eyes out the window.

“Someone will have to eventually,” Dynamight grunted. “But, if he proves me wrong, then he might actually have some potential.”

“Mmm,” you hummed noncommittally. You didn’t want to talk about Tadashi anymore. Hell, you didn’t want to talk about anything.

But you knew it was coming. You could feel the pro hero building up to it, the air in the car becoming more tense and charged by the second, like the calm before the storm.

Part of you wished Dynamight would just rip the bandaid off already.

The other part of you wondered if you would survive opening the car door and jumping from the moving vehicle, but at the speed the blond was driving, chances were slim.

You were just thinking to pull out your phone and subtly look at the agency on the map to see how far away you were, but then Dynamight cleared his throat, and you felt all the saliva dry up in your mouth.

This was it.

“So,” the pro hero started as he pulled up to a stoplight, and his eyes found yours again. The red light reflected off his face and made it hard to tell where his irises began, everything washed out in crimson.

But before he could get another word out, a loud growl split the interior of the car.

Dynamight blinked at you before his gaze fell to your stomach, and you felt your face flare with heat.

“Sorry,” you muttered as you clenched your abdomen, trying to shut it up, but it only growled louder in defiance. “I, um, forgot to eat dinner since I was busy packing.”

And because your stomach had been in knots all day, but you didn’t need to tell him that.

“Wasn’t that kid holding a whole bag of food back there?” Dynamight asked, frowning at you.

“Y-Yeah.” You blushed even harder. Nothing escaped the pro’s notice, did it? “Mrs. Kojima had brought some stuff, but I didn’t know if there would be a place to store it in, um, whatever room I’m staying in. Plus, Tadashi is always hungry because of his hero course training, so it’s not like any of it will go to waste.”

“You’ll starve yourself so some brat can stuff extras in his face?” the blond scoffed, and he looked at you like you were speaking another language.

“I won’t starve,” you argued, a nervous laugh huffing out of you. “I-It’s one meal, and I ate a big lunch.”

That was a lie, but maybe you could get away with a little one.

Dynamight studied you for a long, silent moment, his face unreadable. Then the light turned green, and he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.

“Tch.” He flicked on his blinker and turned left, weaving down a set of smaller streets leading away from the city’s center, where you knew his agency was located.

“Where… are we going?” you asked as you glanced out the window. “Is this a short cut to the agency?”

“We’re not goin’ to the agency,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat, and some of your unease must have shown on your face, because the pro hero scoffed again.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. We’re stopping to get food first.”

You blinked in surprise. Food? He was buying you dinner?

“Y-You don’t have to do that,” you stuttered, awkwardly waving your hands in front of you. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m fuckin’ hungry, so I’m getting food. That alright with you, Stitches?” His red eyes flicked to the side and pinned you to your seat, and all you could do was nod.

The car descended into silence again as Dynamight navigated through the streets, and a few minutes later, he was pulling up to a curb. The street around you was definitely in a better part of town than you were used to, but it didn’t look too fancy. A number of small restaurants dotted the road, interspersed by a couple bars, and a few dozen people roamed the sidewalks, laughing and stumbling and obviously having a good time.

Dynamight stared out at the crowd through the windshield, a small sneer of disgust curling his upper lip, before he turned to you.

“Stay here,” he said. No, ordered. “I’ll be right back, so don’t go anywhere.”

“O-Okay,” you replied with a nod.

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if trying to discern whether or not you were lying, but he must have been satisfied with what he found because he reached for the sunglasses that were casually thrown atop the dash. He slid them on before opening the car door and slipping out, but he paused before he closed it, bending down and poking his head back inside.

“Any allergies?” he asked bluntly. “I don’t need you choking and dying on my leather seats.”

“No allergies.” You shook your head. “Anything is fine.”

A part of you still wanted to argue about him buying you food, but something told you that you would both lose the argument and succeed in pissing the blond off, which you were trying your best to avoid.

Dynamight grunted in acknowledgement before he straightened, pulled up his hood, and slammed the car door. He took several strides away before he gestured back to the vehicle, and it was only when the locks engaged that you realized he’d taken the keys out of the ignition at some point.

He really didn’t want you going anywhere.

You exhaled shakily as you unclenched and clenched your fingers in your lap, trying to get some feeling back into them. Your thoughts kept threatening to spiral off down dark avenues, so you focused on watching the people outside the car. The windows were pretty tinted, besides the windshield, so you didn’t think people noticed you watching them go about their night. Everyone was happy and smiling, flushed with laughter and drink, and a yawning loneliness suddenly opened up inside you. Even back in America, you’d never had a lot of friends, but you had drinks a few times in college with classmates, and you missed going out to somewhere besides the grocery or craft supply store. You had thought you would have time to make new friends here in Japan, friends that you could try restaurants and bars with, but it hadn’t happened yet.

And depending on what Dynamight had to say, it might not happen at all.

You stewed in anxious silence for several minutes, but then the locks disengaged with a chirp, and the blond was sliding back into the driver’s seat, shoving a bulging plastic bag into your lap.

“Here, don’t drop it,” he muttered as he jammed the keys back into the ignition.

“I’ll just, um, set it on the floor,” you said as you shifted the bag down to the floorboards, holding it in place with your feet. The aromatic steam wafted out of the bag as you leaned over it, and your stomach snarled at the delicious scent of greasy meat and roasted vegetables. “This smells really good.”

“Of course it does,” Dynamight sneered. “I’m not gonna eat shitty food.”

“Only the best for the best,” you joked awkwardly. You blamed your sudden lightheadedness. When was the last time you ate?

“Damn straight,” the blond huffed, yanking on his seatbelt before shifting the car into gear. “Can you make it five minutes without fainting?”

“Yes?” you questioned more than stated, your brow furrowing.

“Good, then hang on.” With that, the pro hero squealed away from the curb, merging into traffic seamlessly.

Dynamight drove for several more minutes, but you didn’t ask where the two of you were going this time. The blond probably wouldn’t answer, and if he did, it would just be some kind of sharp retort, so you settled for staring out the window while making sure the food between your feet didn’t tip over.

You hadn’t explored the city very much since you moved here, so most of what you passed by was foreign to you. But, just judging by the amount of lights and traffic around, you estimated that Dynamight was skirting the edge of the downtown area instead of going into it. You knew the general location of his agency, since you panic-Googled it earlier this afternoon, and while it was closer, the pro hero didn’t seem to be driving toward it.

Eventually, Dynamight pulled up to the curb on an empty street and parked in the shadow of a tall office building. There was no sign on the façade to indicate a company, and only the dim emergency lights shone through the darkened windows, so it was obvious everyone had gone home for the day. Next door to the building seemed to be a small park, concrete and steel giving way to green grass and shadowed trees, but there was no one walking on this particular street.

“Where are we?” you asked as you frowned out the tinted window.

“Dunno,” Dynamight said before he opened his door, sliding out of the car without any more explanation.

You blinked in confusion as he wrenched open your door a moment later, but he still didn’t say anything as he bent down to pick up the bag of food at your feet.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” you asked. “You drove us here.”

“By the time I answer all your questions, the food is gonna be cold,” the pro hero grunted, and he glared down at you still buckled into your seat. “Get out.”

“We’re not eating in the car?” You didn’t mean to ask this many questions, you could tell it was irritating the blond, but you were just so… confused as to how you got to this point in your life.

“I’m not about to let you ruin my damn leather seats,” Dynamight growled, stepping back to give you room. “Now get out of the damn car… please.”

The last word sounded like it was dragged out of the hero against his will, painfully, and you wondered again if he was trying to be nicer because of all the negative media coverage. You didn’t think the blond gave a shit what the media thought, but Red Riot and their agency did, so maybe Dynamight was being forced to make an effort.

“Are you seriously just going to gape at me like an idiot? Do your legs not work?”

Well, what was that saying? You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t force it to drink.

“S-Sorry,” you stuttered as you fumbled with your seatbelt, and you nearly twisted your ankle falling out of the car.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re as clumsy as shitty Deku,” Dynamight grumbled as he easily caught your elbow and kept you from faceplanting.

This close, you could smell the caramelizing sugar scent that you finally realized emanated from the blond, and even through the sleeve of your sweater, you could feel the strength in the pro hero’s calloused fingers.

Your face flushed with heat, but you were pretty sure he was tired of your stammered apologies, so you just stepped up onto the curb as he slammed the passenger door and locked the car.

Then he turned to the tall office building and froze before a scowl twisted his features once again.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, and his red eyes snapped to you. “You’re not afraid of heights are you?”

“I… don’t think so,” you said with a frown. “I mean, I’ve been on roller coasters before, and I obviously flew here from America—”

“Perfect,” the blond cut you off, shoving the bag of food at you again. “Take this.”

“O-Okayyyy?” You tentatively wrapped your fingers around the plastic handles of the bag as you drew the food close to your chest.

“Now, hop on,” he said as he turned around and crouched, his fingers starting to crackle with light and flares of heat.

“Wh… what?!” Your whole body felt hot this time, not just your face. “Y-You want me… to get on your back?”

“Again with the damn questions,” he growled, glaring over his shoulder at you. “If it will get you to move your ass faster, we’re eating on that roof, and unless you have wings under that sweater, I’m the only one who can get us up there, and I need my damn hands to use my quirk. So. Hop. On.”

You gaped at the blond for a millisecond, a thousand more questions racing through your mind. Why the hell were you eating on a roof of a random building? Was this allowed? Why couldn’t you just go back to the agency?

But you knew by the look on the blond’s face that he’d reached his limit with questions, so you could do nothing but comply.

Just don’t think about it. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think.

You kept up this mantra in your head as you hesitantly approached the hero’s back. He had turned to look forward again, so at least his crimson eyes weren’t burning a hole into you as you carefully slid one hand onto his shoulder while you used the other to cradle the food against your stomach.

You were just debating the best way to finish this embarrassing endeavor when you felt strong hands slide over the backs of your knees and pull you forward, startling a yelp out of you.

“Jump,” Dynamight grunted, and you only had time to mindlessly obey as he straightened to his full height in one fluid motion.

“Shit!” you couldn’t help but curse in English, hoping he couldn’t understand you. His hands helped to guide your legs around his waist, and you dug your left hand into his shoulder so you didn’t fall backward or crush the food that was nestled between the hero’s spine and your navel.

A beat passed in silence as the two of you found your balance again.

“I-I’m not too heavy, am I?” you murmured into the hero’s blond hair. Your throat felt tight with embarrassment, but when you went to swallow, your mouth was as dry as a desert.

“Tch.” Dynamight clicked his tongue as he shifted your weight a little, his hands burning the backs of your thighs even through the thick denim of your jeans. “I could carry two of you without breaking a sweat. Don’t call me weak.”

“I wasn’t!” you rushed to assure him. “I just meant—”

“I know what you meant, shut up,” the blond cut you off, turning his head a fraction so his red eyes sliced into you. At this distance, his burnt sugar scent was almost overwhelming. “Do you have a good grip on me? And the food?”

“Y-Yes,” you said as your heart began to pound against your sternum. You hoped he couldn’t feel it.

“Make sure,” he growled, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs before he suddenly let go.

A small gasp was ripped from you as you clenched your legs around his waist, and your left arm went from clutching his shoulder to wrapping around his neck.

“Ack! Don’t choke me!” he huffed as he stretched his throat out of the way.

Your right hand scrambled down a few inches, and you fisted the front of his hoodie, anchoring yourself across his chest as you sucked in your gut, leaned more into his spine, and tried not to crush the bag of food that was steadily making you sweat.

“I-Is that okay?” you asked, your voice no more than a timid whisper.

“Fine,” Dynamight said as he dropped his hands down by his hips, his palms crackling with energy once again. “Don’t fucking let go.”

“I wo—OHHHH!” Your sentence trailed off into a startled scream as the hero suddenly exploded off the ground.

His quirk made your ears ring, but you didn’t even have time to process that before you were thirty feet in the air. Every muscle in your body locked up in terror, and you were sure Dynamight was going to have bruises on his ribs from your legs clamping down around him like a vise. The wind tore at your hair and clothes, stinging the exposed skin of your face and neck, and you ducked your head against the hero’s blond hair as you clenched your eyes shut.

Don’t let go, don’t let go, you chanted in your mind.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over, and you heard Dynamight extinguish his quirk an instant before his boots slammed into concrete.

The two of you stood there for a moment as you panted against the back of his neck, your hammering heart still lodged in your throat, before the blond patted the side of your thigh.

“You can get down now,” he said. “But don’t drop the damn food.”

You peeled open your eyes with a shaky exhale, and you could feel your entire body trembling as you slowly slid down from the hero’s back. The crinkling bag drew your attention, and you had a split-second worry that you had crushed the food in your terror, but a quick inspection showed that while the containers were a little crumpled, no food was leaking out.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Dynamight muttered before his boots started to crunch away from you.

You snapped your head up and blindly followed after the blond, your eyes darting to the ground to make sure you didn’t trip over anything and then up to your surroundings to try and figure out where the hero was leading you.

The answer, apparently, was to the very edge of the roof, and you wondered if the hero was going to make you hop on the Dynamight Express again, but instead he came to a stop beside a large electrical box. To your shock, he opened a small door on the tall metal rectangle and produced a thick, dark colored blanket, which he then threw down on the roof’s gravel.

“Sit,” he grunted before he flopped to the ground, sighing as he stretched his legs out in front of him.

There was about four or five feet between the electrical box and the edge of the roof, but the soles of Dynamight’s boots nearly brushed against the roof’s wall.

Or they would have, if a three-foot section of the cement wall wasn’t missing right in front of him. The edges of the concrete partition looked suspiciously charred black, and you frowned at the sight.

“Did you… blast a chunk out of this wall?” you asked as you slowly sank to your knees beside the blond. You were painfully aware of the void of protection in front of you, and you knew you were at least ten to fifteen stories above the street. But at least it wasn’t so cold up here, tucked into this little nook with the six-foot tall hero’s body heat helping to warm the air.

“It was in the way,” Dynamight sneered, leaning over and snatching the plastic bag from where you had set it between the two of you. “And wipe that look off your face. I’m not gonna push you through the hole, and you’re not gonna fall with me here.”

He didn’t look at you as he said this, too busy pulling out several food containers and spreading them out on the blanket, but the absolute surety, the confidence, in his voice actually eased some of the tension from your shoulders, and you sighed as you shifted onto your butt and leaned back against the electrical box.

Now that you were seated in front of the hole, you realized this building gave you the perfect vantage point to the east. Most of the other structures were shorter than the one you currently sat on, so the streets stretched out before you like a map. The night sky was clear above you, devoid of clouds, nothing but a dark purple canvas sprinkled here and there with stars. But the moon was nearly full over your head, and its pale light was just enough to see by. You could see cars several blocks away cruising through the pools of lamplight, people waiting at bus stops or walking down the road to their next destination, and a realization came over you.

“Oh, I see,” you murmured, still staring out at the view. “You must use this building as a perch during your hero patrols, right? You can see a lot from here.”

“No shit.” Dynamight rolled his eyes as he opened one of the take-out containers. The smell of a well-made yakisoba hit your nostrils, and you watched as the blond ripped open a pair of chopsticks. He must have felt your gaze, though, because his red eyes snapped up and narrowed on you with a glare. “Quit starin’ at me and eat something. I didn’t go through all this damn trouble for nothing.”

“R-Right.” You cleared your throat as you glanced between the other take-out boxes. “Was there something for me in particular, or…”

“Just pick something!” he snapped before he shoved a bite of noodles into his scowling mouth.

You pursed your lips as you reached for the closest container, flipping up the lid to find nearly a dozen yakitori skewers. Your stomach snarled and cramped as the roasted scent of the chicken filled your nose, and you could feel saliva pooling in your mouth.

Grease immediately began to stain your fingers as you picked up one of the skewers, but you didn’t even care as you brought the kebab to your lips. You took a tentative bite to find the meat still pleasantly warm, but then a groan rumbled in the back of your throat as the flavor exploded across your tongue.

“Mmmm, that is so good!” you mumbled around a mouthful as you ravenously tore off another bite. “It’s seasoned perfectly, and I like the bit of spice it has.”

“Told you I don’t eat shitty food,” the blond scoffed before he reached over and snagged a piece of yakitori for himself.

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, but you quickly covered it up by taking another bite of chicken.

“Thank you for the meal, Dynamight,” you said once you finished the skewer, reaching for one of the other containers. This one turned out to be another plate of yakisoba, and you eagerly pulled it into your lap.

Silence settled between the two of you for a minute, punctuated by the sounds of you both quietly chewing, before Dynamight broke it again.

“Katsuki.”

“Hmm?” you asked around a mouthful of noodles. When you lifted your head, your eyes clashed with glaring red ones barely two feet away, and you swallowed quickly so you wouldn’t choke. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“My name,” he grunted before ripping into another skewer, white teeth flashing in the pale moonlight. “It’s not Dynamight. It’s Katsuki Bakugo.”

Another hot flash broke out across your body as his scarlet eyes bored into you, and you dropped your gaze to your lap. The blond was too close, his burnt sugar scent still strong beneath the aroma of food, and your brain struggled to come up with a response.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” you murmured because you couldn’t help yourself, testing out the syllables on your tongue.

You thought you saw the hero twitch out of the corner of your eye, but he might have just been taking another bite.

“Yeah, and you better remember it,” the blond said after a moment, his tone adamant, commanding.

Like there was any way you could forget his name. Japan’s Number Two Hero wasn’t exactly forgettable.

You found it a little funny, though, that he was so weird about his own name after refusing to call you anything but “Stitches” so far.

“I will,” you murmured, darting a glance at Dynamight—Katsuki? No, that felt too familiar. Bakugo, then—to find him still staring at you.

The blond’s crimson gaze was piercing, pinning you to the spot, and you couldn’t look away. You thought he was going to say something, but his eyes only roamed over your face silently, like he was searching your features for an answer to a question he hadn’t voiced. His scrutiny unnerved you, made you fidget, and you played with your chopsticks to try and quell some of your nervous energy.

Still, he didn’t say a word, but his red eyes began to narrow bit by bit.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore, and you opened your mouth to say something, anything, before he beat you to it.

“You have a healing quirk.”

The words hit you like a sledgehammer.

Your heart slammed to a stop in your chest, and you inhaled so fast it was almost a scream. A million thoughts, excuses, and lies scrambled through your head, but the hero didn’t even give you time to grasp at any of them.

“Don’t deny it,” he said, face twisting into his usual scowl. “Fuckin’ hate liars. I know you have a healing quirk.”

The blunt confirmation, after so long worrying, felt almost like a relief, but it was quickly followed by a deluge of dread.

He knew, he knew, he knew. The truth blared through your head like a siren. There really was no running from it now.

“Well?” Dynamight—Bakugo—demanded as he glared at you. “Are you going to answer?”

“You didn’t ask me a question.” The words fell from your mouth without your permission, and you winced as the blond’s expression darkened.

“Fine,” he growled. “Do you have a healing quirk or not?”

“…yes.” There was nothing else for you to say, so you just stared at the pro hero as the noose tightened around your neck.

“I knew it.” A wild smirk stretched across Bakugo’s mouth, triumphant and proud.

“How?” you couldn’t help but ask as you clenched your hands in your lap, the food long since forgotten. Your stomach was churning itself into knots anyway, but a morbid part of you just had to know what was the final nail in the coffin that had sealed your fate.

“How what? Did I figure it out?” the blond asked as he lazily picked up another skewer and took a bite, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he didn’t hold your whole world in the palm of his calloused hand. “Because I’m not a blind idiot.”

“I’m serious,” you said with a frown, digging your nails into your palms.

“So am I,” Bakugo scoffed, and his red eyes found yours again. “If you’re going to lie, at least do it right. That night in your apartment, you said I wasn’t really hurt, didn’t bleed that much, but your hands and my clothes were soaked with it. Way too much for the stupid paper cuts or whatever you blamed it on. The burns on my left arm were better off than they should have been, too, but I knew you were lying before I even noticed any of that shit. I knew the second you opened your mouth.”

You cringed with guilt, dropping your gaze to your fidgeting fingers. So, all your lies had been futile from the start. “Was it something in my tone or…?”

“Well, stuttering over your words with your guilty ass face didn’t do you any favors, but no,” the blond grunted. “It wasn’t your tone, it was…”

Here, the pro hero trailed off, and he was quiet for so long that you chanced a glance at him.

Bakugo was frowning off into the distance, staring out over the city without seeing. You could tell he was struggling with something, and since you were obviously a masochist, you pressed him about it.

“It was…?” you led and then had to stifle a gasp as the blond snapped his head around to glare at you.

“You can’t say shit about this,” he snarled and bared his teeth like a cornered animal, and you distantly noted that his canines were more pointed and pronounced than what was usual. Then his next words stabbed into you, sharp and serrated, and dragged you back to the conversation. “Do you hear me, Stitches? You don’t say shit to anyone. If you do, I’ll kill you.”

You blanched at the seriousness of his tone, the sharpness of his eyes, and a nervous laugh was startled out of you.

“I’m obviously not in a position to say anything against you, Dyna—er, Bakugo,” you said, adding the “-sama” honorific after his name as a show of deference. “You could have me arrested or even deported for using my quirk on you without permission or a license.”

“Damn right I could,” he huffed as he narrowed his eyes at you, but some of the tension and anger left the lines of his face. “But I’m not gonna do any of that shit because I need—you are going to help me.”

“Help you?” you echoed in an incredulous tone. “What could I possibly help you with?”

Bakugo glared at you as the muscle in his jaw worked, like he was chewing over his words, before he finally spat them out.

“My ears. The reason I knew you were lying immediately was because I could hear you.”

Your frown deepened as you processed his words. “You remember losing your hearing?”

“Remember it?” The blond scowled at you. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I remember being fuckin’ deaf!”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, waving your hands in front of you. “I just—right after you crashed through my window, you woke up for a second, but you were disoriented. I was trying to tell you that you beat the villain before I saw the blood coming out of your ears and realized you must have blown your eardrums. Then you passed out, and when you woke up again, a-after I… healed you, you asked about the villain a second time, so I just assumed you didn’t remember waking up the first time.”

Bakugo frowned at you, pale eyebrows furrowing over crimson eyes. “I woke up more than once? Yeah, I don’t remember that shit.”

“Wait…” You blinked and pursed your lips as you tried to understand what he was saying. “If you don’t remember that, how do you remember losing your hearing?”

“Because my hearing was shot to shit before I even ran into that damn villain,” Bakugo growled, and his face tightened again as he turned away from you. “Couldn’t even hear my quirk activate anymore.”

He held up his hand to demonstrate, and flashes of light crackled to life in his palm like mini fireworks. The hero’s expression grew strange as he stared at the visual manifestation of his quirk, but then he clenched his fist and extinguished the sparks.

Meanwhile, you felt your jaw gape open as your eyes widened. “You… how long has your hearing been in decline?”

The blond ground his jaw so hard you could hear the scrape of his teeth, and he glared off into the middle distance for so long that you just assumed he wasn’t going to answer you.

Then…

“Fuckin’ years, I dunno,” he muttered as he pulled one of his long legs up, balancing his forearm against his knee and pressing his mouth into the back of his wrist. “Didn’t notice it at first, but it probably started at UA, once I was able to use my quirk more regularly.”

Ohhh, of course. Your eyes dropped to the clenched fist in his lap, and you remembered the boom that made your ears ring as the hero flew you both up here. It had been so loud, and to think of experiencing that multiple times a day, at close range, for years apparently since you knew UA was a famous high school here in Japan…

“Did you see a doctor?” You frowned, glancing up at the blond as his gaze snapped back to yours.

“Tch, doctors,” Bakugo sneered, disgust glinting in his crimson eyes. “Fuckin’ useless pieces of shit. I left a good-for-nothing white coat’s office the afternoon I ran into that asphalt villain. Idiot doctor said most of my hearing was just gone, I was going to lose the rest, and there was shit all he could do. Then, few hours later, you patched me up in fuckin’ seconds, so I know that bastard was full of shit.”

All you could do was blink rapidly at the pro hero as you tried to process all this information. Japan’s Number Two Hero had been going deaf for years, and no one had noticed? You knew that would have definitely made the news, let alone the gossip magazines. What’s more, a doctor said his hearing was a lost cause, and yet…

“How well can you hear now?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you. You hadn’t even intended to heal his ears that night, it had just been a side effect of you dumping your energy into his body in order to keep him breathing.

“Dunno, haven’t exactly done a hearing test,” the blond scoffed and rolled his eyes. “But I can hear you just fine, my phone, too, and my quirk. I’d say that’s good enough.”

You pursed your lips in thought, studying the hero like he’d been studying you all night, and then you remembered what had started this whole conversation.

“Okay…” you said slowly. “Well, if you’re hearing is… fine now, what am I supposed to help you with?”

“Keeping it that way, obviously.” He glared at you. “You’re gonna be stuck at the agency for the next few weeks anyway, so you need to make sure my ears stay working.”

You gaped at the pro-hero, wondering if you were suddenly losing your hearing.

“M-Me?” you stammered as your heart crawled up your throat. “B-But I… I’m not a doctor.”

“No shit,” he said, apparently a favorite phrase of his, and he looked at you like you were a particularly dumb child. “I don’t need a doctor, I told you they’re fuckin’ useless. I just need your quirk.”

“But…” you trailed off in disbelief. Out of all the outcomes you’d envisioned for this night, this had never even crossed your mind as anything in the realm of possibility. “I’m… not a hero. I don’t have a license to use my quirk.”

Bakugo stared at you in silence for an endless moment before his upper lip curled into a snarl.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he hissed. “I know all that!”

“W-Well, I don’t know what you want then!” you said, your voice rising in pitch and volume to match his.

The echoes of your words ricocheted around you before they faded off into the night, and the blond clenched his jaw as he glared at you.

“I want you to use your quirk anyway,” he said, the low growl of his tone vibrating through you. You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off mid inhale. “And don’t start bitching about rules. You’ve been using your quirk illegally already. That kid and his old hag of a grandma are patients of yours, aren’t they?”

Your jaw snapped closed with an audible click, and a smirk bloomed across the blond’s pale lips.

“Hah,” he snorted. “Knew it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you gritted out, and your breathing grew shallow.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, his smirk taking on a taunting edge. “You really gotta work on your poker face, Stitches.”

Your vision started to tunnel, interspersed with flashes of Tadashi and Ayano’s faces. “The Kojimas have nothing to do—”

“Oh, calm the fuck down,” he cut you off as he rolled his eyes again. “I’m not gonna turn a grandma and a kid into the cops. Especially not for doing the same shit we’re going to do.”

A knot of tension unraveled beside your heart, but your insides still felt more tangled up than a yarn ball being batted around by a crazed kitten.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a sigh, dropping your eyes to where your fingers were picking at the frayed hem of your sweater.

“I don’t need your gratitude,” he scoffed. “I just need—”

“My quirk.” You were the one to cut him off this time, and you lifted your gaze to his again.

“Yeah,” he said as he narrowed those scarlet eyes at you like a predator zeroing in on its prey. “So, is that your way of saying you’ll do it?”

You bit your lip as you considered your options, but really, you didn’t have any. Dynamight was a famous, rich pro hero with all the leverage. He could ruin your life… but he wasn’t. He was instead providing a trade.

His silence for your quirk.

The Kojimas flashed through your mind again, as did your other “patients,” as the blond called them. You thought of your parents, too, and your grandparents. If you agreed to the hero’s proposition, you wouldn’t have to return to America as a failure, and after a few weeks, you could reopen your family’s legacy shop.

And, in the meantime, you still got to use your quirk. You could heal, actually be useful. Even more than that, Japan’s Number Two Hero was relying on you.

You didn’t know if you were up to the task, having never used your quirk beyond minor instances that were usually days or weeks in between each other.

But…

“Yes,” you finally said as you looked up into Katsuki Bakugo’s face. “I’ll help you.”

You just hoped you didn’t hang yourself in the process.

125 notes · View notes

pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

Hungover Love

word count: 2,688

pairing: UniversityStudent!Akaashi Keiji x Fem!Reader

warnings: characters getting drunk and hungover - all assumed to be of legal age

a/n: I don’t know where this came from but I started writing it so here it is haha. Got the idea from @moanlightlust‘s list (can find it here!) so thank you! I’ll bold the prompt down below (I kinda changed it for the sake of the story but still got the idea from their prompt list :)) Thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells and @thisnoodlewritesao3 for reading over this for me! Love you both :)

haikyuu masterlist

“Akaashi?” You repeated the name for the second time as you strained your ears to hear something besides bar music and Bokuto’s loud voice in the background.

“Hm?” The small grunt made you smile, knowing he was probably slumped over on a chair, holding his face in one hand and leaning on a table in front of him, with his other hand pressing his phone a little too hard on his ear.

You let out a small laugh, pausing the show you had on your TV so you could hear him better, “Akaashi, you called me. Did you need something?”

There was another grunt on the other end of the line, and you chuckled as you heard Konoha teasing Bokuto about something in the distance, “What is it, Akaashi?” You inquired some more, listening to him hum quietly to the song playing.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he mumbled and you just shook your head with a smile. God he must’ve had far too many drinks to be this out of it. “I fucking love Y/N Y/L/N. It almost feels like she can hear me right now,” he was saying and you just laughed. “Like I can... I can hear her laughing.”

“Akaashi, you idiot,” your face felt hot but you tried to ignore it. He was drunk. Very clearly drunk. He didn’t mean anything by it - the last time he was drunk, he told you he was going to leave his college volleyball team and join some new sport because Bokuto was getting on his nerves.

It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. It didn’t matter that those were the words you had been waiting to hear from him. It didn’t matter that you’d spent the last two years pining after him. He was drunk.

“Didya know... the other day.... Y/N smiled at me cause I said something funny- what did I say... I can’t remember what I said but I said something funny and she smiled and I just.. God it’s that smile ya know?” Akaashi’s voice seemed so much lighter than it did usually. You could tell that he was smiling and just imagining that goofy drunk smile on his face made your heart skip a beat or two.

“That’s nice,” you tried to keep things casual, avoid getting your hopes up too much. You didn’t want to ruin what you had with him - the nice fun friendship that was definitely just a friendship.

“Y/N?” Akaashi suddenly seemed a lot more present, as if just realizing you were on the line.

“Yea?”

“Y/N!” The smile on his face was probably a lot bigger from the sounds of it, a chuckle slipping from his lips, “I love you, Y/N! I’ve loved you ever since I met you when you picked up my runaway ball for me back in high school. You were so pretty then and you’re super pretty now. Like you get prettier every day I see you-” his speech was quick and slurred, you could almost feel him getting drunker by the second.

“Akaashi-”

“Bokuto keeps telling me that I need to tell you but I dunno if I can because I’m pretty sure you like that dude that lives across from you and-”

“Akaashi-”

“But I guess I wouldn’t know until I told you right? So I’m telling you because I like you. I really like you. I wanted to bring you to that new ice cream place down the road from your place but you always seemed so busy and I don’t want to bug you, plus volleyball takes up so much time, and then there’s school, and I don’t even know how to balance volleyball, school, and a girlfriend-”

“Akaashi!” Your voice was louder this time, biting down on your inner cheek as his name left your lips. You needed him to stop - it had to stop. Your heart was fluttering too much and you couldn’t even tell how much of this was true. You wanted to tell yourself that alcohol could bring out people’s true feelings, but it also made you do dumb shit. And wouldn’t confessing to someone you didn’t actually like be considered dumb shit?

“Ya that’s me,” Akaashi mumbled, clearly a lot more tired than he seemed five seconds ago.

You tried not to laugh, tried to swallow your fears and your feelings, your heart feeling like it was beating a thousand times a minute. “I need you to go sober up, get some rest and drink lots of water okay?”

“But-”

“No but’s! You obviously drank way too much and honestly, I’ve never heard you talk like this before and I can’t even tell if it’s you anymore,” you acted like you were scolding him, putting up that wall again like you had so many other times before. He couldn’t really like you, could he? There was no way.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I fucking love you!” Akaashi yelled into the phone, making you cringe a bit at the volume.

Your chest was tightening, you couldn’t tell if it was fear or hope but whatever it was, it was scaring the shit out of you, “Shut the hell up! If you love me so much tell me when you’re sober, dammit!” You yelled back, immediately hanging up the phone. Your eyes widened as you watched the call screen disappear, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

The next few hours were radio silent from both Bokuto and Akaashi. You refused to text either of them in fear that you might accidentally say more than you wanted to.

It’s fine, he was really drunk from the sounds of it so he probably won’t even remember it right? I mean, the last time he got super drunk, he didn’t remember challenging the bartender to a pushup fight so... so he won’t remember.... right?

You paced in your room for a bit, glancing at your phone every five seconds to see if there was any sort of notification from either of your friends. But nothing.

You barely slept a wink that night, tossing and turning while facing dreams of Akaashi laughing in your face the next time you saw him.

You thought I meant that? It was just a joke, Y/N.

I only see you as a friend, sorry.

Don’t you think you’re reading into our friendship a little too much? That’s all there is. Friendship.

The idea of Akaashi awkwardly laughing in your face, giving you that half smile while dismissing your feelings haunted you for hours. By the time the sun came up, you gave up on the idea of sleeping and threw your blanket off of you. It was time to figure out how to survive your day without thinking about Akaashi Keiji at all.

It wasn’t easy. Everything reminded you of him. Half of your Netflix was shows you were watching with him, or movies you’d already seen with him next to you. Your homework wasn’t any help either (though you definitely needed to get it done). Akaashi would normally come over and study with you, his adorable glasses making him look like some young professor, twirling his pencil around in his fingers while nodding along to some song stuck in his head. You couldn’t get used to studying on your own.

Radio silence finally broke when you texted Bokuto, asking if they all made it home safe last night and he responded with a very badly spelled text message saying, “himw safe so tirwd need adcil heaf hurtinh” (aka. home safe so tired need advil head hurting)

Your lips curled into a small smile - at least Bokuto was alive. And the fact that he wasn’t all up in your face about Akaashi meant that the setter probably hadn’t said anything last night, or at least, it meant that Bokuto was too busy tending to a hangover to think about it.

A knock on your door made you jump, watching it for a moment before slowly approaching.

“Oi, open up, I know you’re in there.”

You calculated the odds and realistically there were only 3 reasons why Akaashi would be at your door right now, while he was still probably very hungover.

A. He was tired of listening to Bokuto complain about being hungover while also hungover and wanted you to help take care of him.

B. He wasn’t actually hungover and wanted to hang out.

C. He remembered your phone call from last night and wanted to confront you about it.

...

There was no way it was B or C so... it had to be A right?

You opened the door with a smile on your face, trying to pretend like this was the first time you spoke to him since you saw him earlier yesterday.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” You asked, welcoming him in and watching his movements as he shuffled inside. He was wearing his sunglasses and wincing a little so... it definitely wasn’t B. He was definitely still hungover.

“Good morning to you too,” Akaashi chuckled slightly, groaning as he made his way over to your couch and flopped onto it. “God, my head is killing me,” he grumbled.

You felt almost a bit of relief - he wasn’t bringing it up so... it must mean that C wasn’t an option right? “I’ll make you some tea. Want something to eat?”

He made a noise that you assumed was a yes, grabbing some ramen packages that you liked to have whenever you were hungover.

“How’re the boys?” You asked as soon as the tea was finished, handing it to him as he sat up with a huff.

“Fine... I told them I didn’t want to get drunk,” he rolled his eyes. “But Bokuto kept pouring shots and being a little bitch when I didn’t want to have them... something about how he didn’t want to lose his best friend or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head slowly as you moved back to your little kitchen, “You’re always so busy studying. Bokuto probably just misses having you around.”

“We live together.”

“Ya well you’re always either on campus or here with me so I can see why he’d miss you,” you smirked, humming softly to yourself as you let the noodles cook. Things were okay. Things were normal. Things were going to be fine - all your worries were slipping away-

“So are we not going to talk about it?”

Akaashi’s voice made you jump, turning around to find him standing right behind you and slowly sipping on the tea.

“Fuck, Akaashi, don’t do that,” you glared at him, hitting his arm, “Could’ve made me burn myself.”

“Sorry,” he gave you a small smile, leaning against the nearby counter. “But we are going to talk about it, aren’t we?”

The ramen so clearly needed stirring and stirring was a full focus kind of job and this was obviously why you were looking into the pot and not looking at Akaashi, even though you could feel his eyes watching you, “Talk about what? Bokuto missing you?”

Akaashi chuckled and lifted his finger to under your chin, tilting your face to look at him, “I drank a lot. But I don’t think any amount of alcohol could make me forget how embarrassing I was.”

“Embarrassing?”

He watched your eyes for a moment before pulling his hand away from you and looking down at his tea, his smile slowly stiffening, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I don’t want to make you more uncomfortable. I just thought I should apologize and let you know that you don’t have to reject me or anything. I like being friends with you and that’s enough for me, even if there’s a part of me that wants more.”

You almost dropped your spoon on the floor, staring at him with wide eyes, “S-Sorry what? Apologize? For... for what?”

“For confessing to you while drunk,” Akaashi’s smile was turning more sad now, taking a slow sip from his tea. “I’d been considering telling you how I feel for a while now and I guess I should’ve stopped myself from drinking sooner to save you the embarrassment.”

“Embarrassment? Akaashi, don’t be an idiot,” you ignored the soup still dripping from the spoon and whacked his arm with it.

“Hey!”

“You’re telling me you were drunk enough to confess to me and to remember what you said but not remember what I said at the end?” You huffed, hands on your hips now.

Akaashi’s eyes lifted to the ceiling in thought, his lips pursing slowly like he did when he was concentrating on getting an answer right on his homework, “I know you seemed mad,” he finally responded, shrugging a bit. “I figured it was cause I put you on the spot like that.”

“No you absolute meathead, it’s because after months and months of pining after you, weeks of Bokuto almost spilling my secret on multiple different occasions to you, him almost screaming to you once about how much I love you, you end up telling me you love me over a drunk phone call and I can’t tell if you’re being serious or just a drunk dummy!” You scold him, hitting his arm again with your hand and shaking your head. God, for a boy with as high of an average as he had, how is it possible that there were no brain cells running around in that head of his?

Akaashi smirked a little, watching your eyes as you ranted, a playful smile on his lips, “So... you love me huh?”

“You better get out of my sight before I dump this ramen on your head,” you glare at him, trying your best not to smile because his smile was just so contagious but ugh that evil little smirk of his-

His lips were suddenly on your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your skin and letting you feel the smirk still toying on his expression, “Drunk or not. I do love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y-Yeah yeah whatever,” you avoid his eyes some more, your whole face feeling hot and your cheek tingling where he had kissed you. “Go sit, it’s almost done.”

“Not until you say it back,” he teased, hugging you from behind and peppering your cheeks with some more kisses. “You said you love me, you can’t take it back now. Say it again.”

“Why?” you laughed, trying to pull away from his tight hug.

“Because it’s the best news I’ve ever gotten and I want to hear you say it again and again and again,” he insisted, turning you around to face him and smiling down at you. “Pretty please?”

You sighed with a smile on your face because as annoying as he could be, you really did mean it when you tell him, “I love you too, Akaashi.”

Alone time with Akaashi lasted long enough for him to properly ask you to go on a date with him to that ice cream shop, and was then interrupted by Bokuto showing up at your door and inviting himself in with a grin.

Apparently, the cure to Bokuto’s hangover was just knowing his two best friends had finally confessed to each other.

“God, I thought he’d never get drunk enough,” Bokuto grinned proudly to himself after you had happily explained the details to him. “I thought I’d have to just keep ordering him drinks.”

“What?” Akaashi glared at him, putting the pieces together.

Bokuto just smirked mischievously, “You can’t get mad cause it worked. I figured it would take a miracle to get you two to confess. And getting you drunk is basically a miracle.”

The fact that you were laughing made Akaashi want to kill Bokuto a little less, and even though he glared some more at his best friend, he would secretly thank him later for helping him get the courage to get the girl of his dreams. As much as Bokuto could get on his nerves sometimes, it really would be thanks to him that Akaashi got to take you out on that cute date and tell you just how much he loves you every day.

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #haikyuu x reader #hq akaashi #haikyuu fluff #pies writes

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