#Well this Saturday it'll be two weeks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dovkss · 1 year

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bakugou using your mouth in the library during a weekly study date with your friends…

word count: 2.2k

warning: 18+; manhandling; blowjob (m receiving); degradation; slapping; public sex; possessive & controlling katsuki; choking & gagging; cum eating; yandere themes; poor eijiro once again :((

all characters are aged up !!

a/n: quick first drabble from my first story “dumb bitch” since a lot of you asked for a part two but I don’t want to do one, I’ll continue more drabbles from the story if asked ! enjoy ! (^_^)

You and the girls gathered at your usual study spot in the library on a quiet Saturday afternoon. You all were preparing for an exam and knew that studying together would help big time.

Kirishima was also there, like he always was. But he barely spoke. Ever since he discovered you and Bakugou on his bed, sprawled out like heathens, things were awkward to say the least.

You, the girl he’d cared deeply for, had chosen Bakugou over him, and it felt like a dagger was plunged into his soul.

He would think back to before everything went to shit. When classes for the day ended, he would see you leaning on his car when he'd go to the parking lot. You would greet him and lock your arm with his and you both made your way to the other side so he would open the passenger door for you.

You'd beg to go get ice cream or ask if he could take you home so you wouldn't have to take the bus. He would never say no to you, only nod like a dummy. It was like you knew the scent of your perfume made you irresistible to him.

When he would go to open the driver door, the handle would be warm from your ass. The day after the next, you would be back again to do the same thing.

You wanted to apologize to him, but was shut down by Bakugou. His nostrils flared and he rolled his eyes. "He'll get over it, stay away from him. Why? Because I told you to! Don't question me, you're fucking mine."

You respected his wishes, but you felt it was wrong.

You guys settled down at the spacious table, surrounded by shelves stacked with books, each section thoughtfully curated. They housed literary classics, contemporary bestsellers, niche genres, and even rare manuscripts. The atmosphere in the studying section was calm and serene. Soft whispers and the sound of turning pages filled the air.

You opened your rented textbook, and laptop, setting down your regular coffee next to them, ready to dive in.

"God, my head is killing me," Mina whined. Dramatically, she slumped over in her chair and rubbed her temple with two fingers.

"Still? It's been like a week," Momo asked.

"I don't know what's happening to me! Maybe... I'm dying..."

"Don't say that, death isn't funny."

"I never said it was, I'm being serious!"

"You're not gonna die from a headache, Mina. Stop being a baby. Maybe learn how to swallow a pill, it'll help."

Mina groaned and shook her head. "You know I can't do that!"

"Then stop complaining!" Momo snapped back.

You shook your head in disbelief. It seemed that the girls would always find something mundane to argue about. But that was just their dynamic. If there were a day they weren't bickering, you'd be worried.

You glanced up at Kirishima who sat across from you. His head was in his notebook; he was taking notes. You watched him, observing how he studied. His handwriting was a little sloppy, as he seemed to be writing fast. His tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth a little.

He was adorable when he was focused.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. You didn't look away. His red eyes glistened in the sunlight that came through the windows. You smiled at him, being sure to show off your pearly whites.

He sighed and went back to jotting down whatever he was writing. You frowned and opened your mouth to speak up, but you were suddenly yanked up by your arm.

You gasped and dropped the pen that was in your hand. You knew that tight grip of his, it never failed to make you shutter.

"Been tryna reach you for hours, y'know?"

You giggled. "Well I can't be available all the time."

Bakugou wasn't amused. His ears flushed in anger and his jaw clenched.

He dragged you out of the library, you winced when he tightened his grip on you. He was tall, his long strides made it almost impossible for your legs to keep up at a normal pace. Looking back, you were surprised.

Momo sat silently, taking a deep breath. Mina watched in confusion as to where he was taking you and wondered if you’d be back. Kirishima just stared. He seemed calm, like he wasn't worried.

He wasn't.

“Be right back you guys- ow!” You flinched. Bakugou had yanked you by your ear, forcing you in front of him so you couldn’t look anywhere else but ahead.

Leaving the study area, Bakugou took you to an empty part of the library, all the way on the other side. Furthest away from your friends.

He shoved you into one of the shelves and stood in front of you. He towered over you, his wide chest almost caging you in that one spot.

“You wanna embarrass me?” He asked, how voice low and intimidating.

You shook your head. “No… of course not, Katsuki! What did I do?”

His infuriated state didn’t subside. Your innocent question only intensified it.

“You should know better than to ignore me,” he said.

You shook your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry, okay?”

“You always have your phone on you, I’m not stupid.”

You looked up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “My phone is in my bag, we needed to focus for this exam and I didn’t want to get distracted. I didn’t mean to worry you… forgive me?”

He scoffed at your sudden change in demeanor. You looked at him with those eyes. The very same eyes you gave him whenever you wanted him to take care of you in more ways than one.

“What a fucking whore you are.” He spat at you, his hands running down the sides of your waist.

“You know me so well—after I study, you can come over. I’ll make it up to you!” You smile softly, biting your lip.

Bakugou didn’t react, he just looked at you. It was hard to read him. You were never able to tell what he was thinking. That’s what made him stand out to you in the first place.

“Why are you studying with Kirishima?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Well, that’s how it’s always been. I can’t really control if he’s there or not either…”

“Fucking figure it out. I don’t want you around him, if that means you have to kick those sluts to the curb as well, then so be it.��

He was serious. Of course he was, there was never a moment where he wasn’t. But he didn’t actually expect you to let go of Momo and Mina did he? Your best friends since… forever!

You frowned at his words and your arms dropped from his neck. You fiddled with the hem of your sweater and looked away from him.

When you didn’t give an answer, he brought his hand up to your chin, forcing you to look at him. “So what’s it gonna be?”

You were unsure of how to answer. Obviously, you weren’t gonna stop being friends with them. They were there first, it would be unfair.

“Why do you hate him so much?”

The grin on his face became more prominent. Slowly, teasingly, his hand smoothed down your hair before he pressed against the back of your neck. “Because he wants what’s mine.”

He pressed down hard, pushing you down to your knees. Your heart sped up when you realize what’s happening.

You blinked up at him, unsure of what he wanted you to do. You were also too scared. Your hands shook a little at the thought of getting caught. That would be a nightmare.

He tilted his head at you. “You don’t expect me to do everything, do you?”

You looked to both sides of you worryingly. “What if someone comes, and we get in trouble, or worse- suspended. Or even worse! Expelled! Oh my god, I’d be in so much trouble, my parents would kill me and I would be a disgrace and they’d disown me and they’d take away everything I have, everything I love, oh my god I’m gonna have a heart attack,”

Bakugou rolled his eyes at your nervous rambling, unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock. He slammed your head back on the shelf which shut you up immediately, his cock in his hand, he tapped your lips with it.

“Are you done? Needa’ use your mouth for something more productive right now.”

You closed your eyes, letting out jagged breaths, and nod submissively. He chuckled then forced his cock between your lips, putting his entire length down your throat.

Your squeals are muffled when he thrusts into your mouth. He explores your tongue and feels the inside of your cheeks. It made him crave you even more.

“Looks at me baby- aah, shit. Look at me when your mouth is full.” He exhaled.

You did as he said without question. One thing about Bakugou, his moans were gorgeous. They never failed to make you feel special.

It always sent shivers down your spine whenever his breaths let you know how much of a good girl you were being. Your nipples became hard, almost being visible through your thick sweater. The pain at the back of your head became a distant feeling.

The only thing you focused on was him. How good he was making you feel, and how you were doing the same to him.

His breath hitched as his thrusts into your throat became more powerful. His balls slapped against your chin and saliva spilled from the corners of your lips.

“Wider,” he panted. “Open wider… deeper…”

You tried your best to widen your lips more to his liking. But you were as wide as you could go, his cock was already forcing your mouth wide open. It was hard to breathe through your mouth and your jaw started to cramp.

He leaned over you, his arms and forehead resting on the bookshelf. You could tell he was focused, his expression was serious.

You felt yourself growing more wet when you began to gag on his cock. The lewd noises were a little loud, the thought of being caught scared you but you didn’t care about that now.

He moaned more, cursing at you under his breath. It was so faint, you couldn’t hear what he was saying. But you were willing to bet it was so hot.

Hs shoved his hand to the back of your head and began forcing you down on his cock. Your eyes shot close when you started choking on him even more.

His grip on your hair tightened and you could tell he was close. You tried to be good for him and just take it. But the roughness was too much to handle.

You whined and whimpered, but he ignored you. The only thing on his mind was chasing his high. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and you moaned.

That set him off. His body jerked ever so slightly as he released down your throat. His gasps were soft and mixed with shits and fucks.

When he pulled out of you, a long string of his thick cum mixed in with your saliva connected between his cock and your mouth. He lifted it off his end and placed it in your mouth.

You prepared your throat to swallow before he caught it and flung his hand across your cheek, your head snapping to the side. You whimper and bring your hand to your slapped cheek.

“Don’t swallow until I tell you to.” He hissed.

You nodded and stood slowly, resting your head on his chest. He cleaned himself up a bit, putting his cock back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans.

He led you back to your friends and left without a word. You sat down quietly, grabbing your phone from your bag and rested your head on the table.

13 missed calls and 22 unanswered texts.

“What happened back there? Are you alright?” Mina asked. You looked up at her. She was worried, like usual. You only smile and nod.

“Are you sure? You look exhausted,” Kirishima added. You nod again, your tongue playing with the cum still in your mouth.

You felt your eyes ready to close so you can get some rest until you felt your phone buzz. You lifted it from your lap and unlocked it.

It was from Bakugou.

“Send me a pic of my seed in you. Then I’ll allow you to swallow.”

You cringed. What if your friends saw? What would they think of you if they knew what just happened?

But you couldn’t ignore him. You’d end up in bigger trouble later if you did.

You opened the camera app and turned the camera around. Kirishima was right, you did look exhausted. Your eyes were barely able to stay open, it looked like you had been crying.

You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. You snapped a photo of your expression and examined it before sending.

It was clear as day, the cum in your mouth. It was awfully abundant and salty. Having it in your mouth for longer than three minutes would surely make your breath stink like crazy.

You sent the picture to him and awaited a response. It wasn’t long before you got a reply.

“Disgusting whore.”

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familyvideostevie · 10 months

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august: a no good at waiting one-shot

Almost a year has gone by since you arrived in Hawkins. You and your enemy-turned-friend-turned-love-of-your-life Steve Harrington are feeling a little restless as summer passes. Your anxieties will not leave you alone: Are you going to move in together? Does Steve want to leave Hawkins? What will you do if he goes somewhere else? It all comes to a head on a day spent at Lover's Lake.

fluff, angst, miscommunication, musings about making choices, and lots of love! [5.4k]

this is a one-shot set after the events of no good at waiting, a farmer's market au, so it's best if you read that first! | au masterlist

Everything is perfect.

Well, not exactly. But you're happy.

Okay, again, not the whole truth. You're mostly happy. You love living in Hawkins, you love working at New-Bee's and the library, and you love Steve. Your boyfriend, your short-lived enemy, your favorite person. Who is kind of pissing you off right now.

Almost a year has gone by since you arrived in Hawkins not knowing what you wanted or who you were or how things were going to go. This summer has been fantastic -- dates with Steve and nights with your friends, drives to amusement parks and county fairs and visiting Robin's campus. It feels right to be here and you're glad that you decided to stay. You think that maybe you've finally figured out how life is supposed to feel: like this. Like love.

But at the moment, Steve has you in a bit of a rut. A few months ago he told you he really wanted to go on a trip this summer. Something just the two of you, a week or two, exploring a new place. You loved the idea because you love doing anything with Steve, but for some reason he's hardly mentioned it since then. And with the end of summer fast approaching, you know your chances at getting away are running out. As far as you can tell, he hasn't planned anything secret. Sure, things have been busy: El broke her arm last month so Steve took on extra shifts, there was a huge storm that flooded some of the fields, you got a promotion and the library and thus more hours, his car needed new breaks. The stars haven't aligned but there also hasn't been any...effort.

And that's just one thing.

The other thing, which is maybe bigger and actually makes you a bit mad, is you've been focused on figuring out how to move in together. You live at Bob's still and while you spend a lot of time at Steve's loft you've talked about finding a place of your own and your loose goal was to have it sorted by the fall. But he talks about both the move and the trip like they're just dreams, far away things that will never actually happen. He's vague whenever you bring up the new apartments going up on the old mall property, about the for sale signs you sometimes see around town. He tells you that it'll work out, that he wants to be sure you guys have enough money to be comfortable.

Does he not want to move in with you? It's a silly thought, sure, but what else are you supposed to think? He's spending every minute he's not with you at the farm or on errands he's been calling "Hopper Missions" on some property just outside of town. It's like he's filling the time so there's no room to discuss the future, like he wants to pretend it'll be summer forever.

Being in an adult relationship is hard. It's lots of decisions and compromise and learning how to talk to each other even when you don't want to and you wouldn't trade it for the world. You know it'll all work out, you just wish that it was worked out already, so you could enjoy the end of the summer and stop worrying that your boyfriend doesn't want to live with you. You know that you should just tell him how you're feeling, but that's easier said than done. Every time you try you wonder if you're being oversensitive or ungrateful or reading into things too much and you back out. Feelings are hard, okay?

You're mulling over the weight of all of these thoughts at the market on one warm Saturday morning in August. Market day is routine by now. It was fun to be here for the start of the season back in May, but you prefer the high summer days when there are endless fruits and veggies to buy and everyone is full of energy and excitement at another day. By now you run the stand practically alone -- local kids free for the summer help you stock in the morning and unload and cover when you're otherwise occupied. You've expanded to four standard candle scents and try out a seasonal one every month or so and the soaps were a very popular graduation gift. You've just tried your hand at chapsticks and they're doing really well.

Most people in town call you by your name when they come say hi. It's a little slow this month, with seasonal allergy honey sticks being less and less popular as the season winds down. So you feel okay retreating into your thoughts until someone clears their throat. You snap out of it and find El standing in front of you with a paper bag. There's a crease between her brows as she watches you.

"Hi," you say. "Is that for me?"

She nods. "I said that you looked sad so Steve told me to bring you something because he's 'up to his ears in husk'. He said you didn't eat breakfast." She uses air quotes. You soften.

"Thank you," you tell her. She keeps looking at you for a few moments before giving you a smile and trotting back to the Sara's tent. Inside the bag is one of her newer experiments -- peach scones. It's fantastic. You munch on it and keep smiling at anyone who comes by, though it's maybe not as effusive as you'd like. You really want to talk to someone about how you're feeling (a voice in your head says that person should be your boyfriend but you ignore it) but you're not sure who to go to. Robin is in Boston visiting Nancy at her hot-shot job at the paper, Eddie and Wayne are on a fishing trip somewhere in Michigan, and you're not about to chat to high schoolers about your love life, no matter how much you like them. You're not sure anyone around here notices your mood like your friends do.

"Why do you look like you swallowed a lemon?"

Well, anyone but your friends and...Murray, it seems. The guy is a little weird, sure, but he's friends with Hopper and Joyce and he really buys "a fuck ton" from the market every week, as Steve once said.

"Hi Mr. Bauman," you say. He frowns.

"Cut that Mr. shit out," he says, though it's not harsh. You do this dance every time he comes to buy an alarming amount of honey. "Your mood is going to ruin the honey."

"I...don't think that's how it works," you say. He levels you with a stare that you think must have served him well when he was a journalist in Chicago, as you've learned he was. "I'm thinking about a place to live?"

"You sure?" he says, poking fun at your uncertainty. "You can live anywhere. Trust me. Cars aren't great, but they'll do. I'd avoid tents. Very damp."

"I guess I was thinking a house," you admit, looking at your fingers. You've never put this into words before and you're not sure why you're doing it now. "Somewhere not too big, maybe with some land so I could get a dog. Not in town but not too far from town." You sigh. "It's a dumb dream."

Murray doesn't say anything. You look up at him and he looks confused. His gaze darts between you and the Sara's stand where you can see the back of Steve's head. "Not the dumbest I've heard."

He slaps down a bill and picks up his usual jar and walks away without another word. Whatever, he's a weird guy.

The day winds down and you're a little too warm to be comfortable and you're just sweaty enough that you want to take a shower and you've stewed in your feelings for too long. Of course this is when Steve comes over. Handsome as ever in his work jeans despite the heat and a Sara's t-shirt he's cut the arms off of, he looks like the lead in a teen movie.

You're loading up the crates to take back to the truck. He squeezes your hip in hello before he starts to help. "How did New-Bee's do today?" he asks.

You shrug. "Average. You?"

"Every damn person in this town wanted corn," he says. "I swear it felt like we sold more than we did for the fourth!"

You hum. It's unfair that your mood has plummeted just as he's shown up and you don't want to take it out on him, even if you consider it a little bit his fault. Steve, for his part, is being a typical boy and doesn't notice. "Hey, listen," he says.

"Listening," you mutter.

"Let's go to the lake tomorrow." That gets you to look at him. He wipes his forehead with his pocket bandana.

"The lake? Why?"

"Everyone says it'll be hotter than today and I think we deserve a day to relax, don't you think?" He squints at the sky, shading his eyes. His arms look lovely like this. "I know we haven't gone on that trip so this is like, a mini trip! Staycation? I think that's what it's called."

"I don't know if a day at the lake in town counts as a vacation, Steve," you say. But even as the words come out you find yourself wanting to go because its something to do. You haven't been swimming in the lake despite Steve's summer bucket list item of skinny dipping. You've actually only been to the lake in general a few times, which is a bit strange since it's such a big place in your relationship. You kissed for the first time at the bonfire on the shore, you told him you loved him in the cab of your truck on a cold night.

"So, is that a no?" He's looking at you with a confused expression.

"It's a yes. Is anyone else coming?"

"No, just us. We can have a picnic or some cute shit, yeah?" He rests his hand on your lower back and maybe it's a combination of the heat and your mood and the universe but you don't want him to touch you right then so you pull away from it. You don't look at him.

"Are you sure you don't have super secret Hopper shit to do?" Silence behind you.

"No," Steve says, dragging the word out. "Hey, are you alright? Did I do something?"

You ignore his question. "Are you going to come get me in the morning?" Usually, you'd go home, shower, and then stay over at Steve's place. This is a clear line in the sand that you're not sure is fair to draw.

"Sure," he says. "But, seriously, what's going on?" You do look at him then. He's got a frustrated set to his shoulders and his brows are drawn like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

You chew on your lip, hands in fists at your sides. "Nothing," you say. He gives you an incredulous look. "Okay, I just don't want to talk about it right now." The last thing you need is to not talk about it but you can feel that you're getting actually bothered about this and you don't want to have a discussion that gets taken over by your mood.

"Okaaaaay," he says. It annoys you even more. Your own shoulders creep up to your ears. "I'll help you pack up and then --"

"No," you say sharply. "I can do it myself."

"Woah, woah, woah," he says. "Okay, alright!" He holds his hands up in the air and the fight wooshes out of you.

"I don't want to fight with you, Steve."

"Who said we were fighting? Do we have something to fight about?"

You close your eyes and tip your head back. It all comes out in a rush. "Steve, I love you and we spend so much time together and I keep trying to get you to talk about looking for a place and you just won't and you want to go on a trip but you won't actually plan it and you want to go to the fucking lake tomorrow and it's like you want to do anything except talk about this stuff and I don't really want to be around you right now."

You don't feel any better for having said all of it. In fact, your chest aches and your nose stings. You don't know if you can look at him.

"I didn't know you were that upset about it," he says finally. It sounds frosty.

"I didn't tell you."

"I can see that," he says. You still don't look at him.

The market is really closing up around you, fewer voices and commotion. You wonder if anyone heard this argument. "I can pack the rest. I'll see you tomorrow." You could have told him you don't want to go but maybe the lake is where you can squash this once and for all.

Steve seems to take the dismissal at face value because you hear him sigh. Part of you wants him to fight you on it right here right now, to sort it out so you can stop feeling so worried all the time. But he doesn't. Instead, you hear his steps and then feel the heat of him as he gently kisses you on the cheek.

"Okay," he says. "See you tomorrow."

And then he's gone.

"Fuck," you say to yourself. You shake yourself out of it and try to pack away the rest of the stall with as much speed as you can muster without breaking anything. The scar across your palm is faint by now but you aren't eager to get another one.

You're almost done bringing the crates to the truck when you hear your name. Will stands in front of your stall, a hesitant smile on his face. He's a sweet kid -- 18, soon, you think, so hardly a kid at all -- and you've gotten to know him a little more since you asked if he wanted to draw the labels for the chapsticks.

"Hi, Will," you say. "Sorry I didn't see you."

He's holding a single sunflower. "Sorry to bother you," he says. "This guy is the only one left today and El said you looked a little down earlier so I thought maybe you'd like it?"

You blink a few times. "Did you, uh, hear all of...that?" You vaguely gesture behind you as if the ghost of Steve is standing there with his arms crossed.

Will looks at you for a second, considering something. Then he holds the flower out and says, "Hear what?" Tactful kid.

"Thanks, Will." He tells you to have a good day and goes back to the flower stand. The sunflower stem is velvet-soft in your hand and the petals are a brilliant yellow. It's a bit lonely on it's own but you will put it in a wine bottle and keep it on your windowsill.

Imagining it there, the only stem, standing as tall as it can in the sunshine in your bedroom, makes you want to cry.

The thing you're most scared of is Steve wanting to leave Hawkins after all. You knew it was a genuine possibility when you started dating, knew that he wanted to explore the world just as you started to make yours here. You told him you'd go with him anywhere he wanted and you meant it then. But now you're not so sure. You love Hawkins and you love Steve. You don't know what you're going to do if one of them demands you leave the other.

Your mind churns as you go to bed and as soon as you wake up. Maybe he doesn't want to plan a trip because he's afraid he won't want to come back. Maybe he's afraid to move in together because he doesn't want to invest time and money into something he'll leave behind. Maybe he's already got plans and he's trying to figure out how to tell you.

"Stop it," you tell yourself in the bathroom mirror. You're prone to this kind of overthinking; it's why you made the huge mistake of running from him last fall. And while you know him so much better, know yourself so much better, sometimes it's hard to believe that you not only deserve nice things and a nice life full of love but that you already have them. And that's why you don't know if you can leave even if you told him you could.

You sit at the kitchen table in your swimsuit under shorts and a wax-stained New-Bee's t-shirt and feel a bit sick about yesterday. You know that Steve will come get you -- he would have called if he didn't want to go anymore. You don't leave each other in a lurch like that, even if you've fought. But you're worried that you've ruined the chance of a fun day that hasn't even happened yet.

The frustration with Steve still simmers under your skin. But you want to table it to have a bit of fun, if you can. You hear the crunch of his tires in the driveway and you grab your stuffed bag and head for the door. You're greeted with the sight of Steve getting out of the car and smiling at you a little hesitantly. He's in bright red swim trunks and a ratty Hawkins High t-shirt and sunglasses.

"What is this, Baywatch?" you ask him, breaking the tension. He laughs and meets you on the porch stairs to give you a quick kiss. You chase his lips a little but he doesn't call you on it.

"Well, I was a lifeguard," he says.

"Which I bet you did just so you could look hot in the chair."

"Obviously," Steve says. He takes your bag from you. "Actually, I taught kids to swim, too. Jesus, what's in here, a watermelon?"

You roll your eyes. "Just the essentials. Sunscreen, a book, some sandwiches, grapes, a water bottle, spare clothes, a towel, a hat --"

"Okay, okay, damn," he laughs, putting it in the back seat. You get in the car and he heads for the lake, windows down. He was right about the weather -- it's much hotter than yesterday already. It could be a nice day. You want it to be a nice day. But the churning your gut demands you address the elephant in the room.

When Steve reaches for the radio you catch his hand in yours.

"Steve," you say. "I do want to talk about yesterday." He doesn't look at you, chewing on his cheek and tapping the wheel in what you know is a nervous habit.

"Yeah," he says. "We probably should. But I also want today to be nice, okay?" He kisses the back of your hand.

"I do, too."

It's not much but it's enough for now. It doesn't take long to get to the lake. Steve takes you to a different part than where you had the bonfire and where you told him you love him. This area has a dock and some grass and a shore of sand and rocks that you can see from where he parks the car.

"There's no one here," you say, unloading the backseat. "Are we even allowed to swim?"

Steve grabs the blanket from his trunk and you spread it out on the grass. "Yeah," he says. "Five years ago or something they finished a project with some scientists or some shit to make sure the lake was good for swimming. They built this but honestly I don't think a ton of people come here." He shrugs. "Or they knew we were coming and left it to us."

"Lucky us," you smirk. You spread out your items on the grass before shimmying out of your shorts and t-shirt. Steve wolf whistles. "Gross!" you tell him.

"Sorry," he says, not looking sorry at all. "That's a nice color on you. Have I seen this before?" His eyes rake over you and you plant your hands on your hips instead of crossing your arms.

"Have we been swimming before?" you ask him.

He grins. "Good point." He pulls off his shirt in one motion from the collar like boys do and without another word sprints down the small hill and onto the dock, jumping off the end and into the water with a yelp and a splash.

"Such a child," you mutter, but you're endeared. He surfaces and shakes out his head like a dog.

"Okay," he says. "It's kind of really fucking cold."

You stop in your tracks, feet just on the edge of the dock. "Really?"

"No," he says. "It's only a little cold. Nice, though." You look skeptical.

"Did you put on sunscreen?" you ask, stalling.

"Yeah." Steve swims in slow circle. "Did you? I'll do your back," he says with an eyebrow wiggle.

"I did it already," you say primly. You knew that if you ended up touching too much on this date, you'd never get to talk about the stuff you need to talk about. "So no back rub necessary." Steve shoots a stream of water at you with his mouth. It gets your knees.

"It is cold!" you squeal. Steve looks too pleased with himself. "It's on, Harrington." You take a few running steps and cannonball into the water.

Honestly, once you've been under for a few seconds it's not so bad. You surface and find Steve grinning at you. "That was cute," he says. You splash him.

After acting like children for a little you both float on your backs, hands clasped, watching the sky. Your conversation and teasing fades and in its place returns your anxiety and frustration from yesterday.

Steve seems to think you're hungry. "Let's eat something," he says. "And put on some more sunscreen."

He gets up on the dock first and runs to get your towels. He wraps yours around your dripping shoulders and you stand in his arms for a second, hand pressed to his heart to feel it beat. You love him. You will work this out. You wonder if it's possible for something to go wrong not because you don't love each other enough but because you love each other too much.

"I made you a great sandwich," you say, pulling away. "And you need more sunscreen, too. Your nose is getting red."

"Wait, really?"

You settle on the blanket and lay out your lunch. Steve pulls berries from his own bag and you eat in a silence that is only a little tense until he tosses a strawberry top into the grass and sighs.

"So, I'm guessing now is the time to talk about it?" he asks.

"Do you not want to?" You don't want this to be a fight but you don't know what else it's going to be.

"No, of course I do," he says. "We need to, clearly." He crosses his legs, his tanned stomach rolling in the way you adore over the waistband of his swim trunks. God, you love him. That's why you have to figure this out.

"We do," you say, squaring your shoulders. "I'll start." The frustration returns full force. "What the hell have you been up to, Steve? You're busy all the time and I don't need to know what you're doing because I do trust you. I just don't get why you can't tell me what you're doing on these weird errands and you won't talk to me about going on a trip or moving and I thought those were both things we wanted."

"I do want those things --"

"I've been looking into what we can afford in Hawkins and thinking about places we could go and I'm busy busting my ass at the library when I'm not at New-bee's so that we can live somewhere nice. And it just seems like you don't actually care that much about moving in together because --"

"I do, care," he says over you. "I just don't want to live in Hawkins."

Time slows down. Your heart thunders in your ears. "What did you say?"

Steve looks stressed. He reaches for you but you don't want to touch him so you cross your arms. A look of hurt crosses his face but it fades quickly.

"Let me explain," he says. "I can explain it all. If I had known you were feeling this way I would have much earlier. Why didn't you tell me?"

You shake your head to clear it. He doesn't want to live in Hawkins? Well, what does he want? Does he want you, still? "Because I didn't think you'd make me feel this way," you say hoarsely.

He takes a deep breath. "I wanted to go on a trip this summer, yeah. I thought it would be fun. And then, like, two months ago, I started thinking about how I didn't actually want to leave Hawkins, but I also don't want to keep living the same life in Hawkins, if that makes sense."

Two months? Two months? The timeline rolls around in your mind. He's been thinking about this for two months and he didn't tell you?

Steve is still talking, apparantly not noticing your distress. "And we talked about looking for a place so I realized that maybe a trip wasn't a good use of our money even though I know we both work hard and are doing fine. And then I was on a drive the weekend you went to visit your family, remember?"

You nod. You'd gone home for a weekend and missed him terribly the entire time. Steve taps your ankle and you realize he wants you to reply. His eyes are wide like he's scared and he runs a hand through his hair. What is he scared of? "Yeah," you say hollowly. "I called you every night."

"You did," he says. "The first night you left I went for a drive all around the county, basically. Just to get out of town but not go too far. To do anything other than mope at my place after we hung up. And that's when I found it."

You aren't following. He leans forward and taps your cheek with his knuckle. "The most perfect damn place in the world."

"Don't tell me you bought a piece of land, Steve," you say. It doesn't seem like a thing he'd do and wouldn't make sense if he's just going to leave.

Your boyfriend just smiles at you. "No," he says. "I didn't buy it. Well, not really."

"Not really?" you say, incredulous. What the fuck is going on?

"I'm almost done explaining, I swear, honey." He runs a hand through his damp hair again. "It's maybe half an hour out of Hawkins proper. It's a real nice little farmhouse with lots of open space around it and I saw it and it felt like I'd been struck by lightning, or something."

The pieces start to fall into place but you don't dare hope. "Dramatic," you say.

"Hey, don't make fun of me!" Your joke seems to encourage him. "It looked like no one lived there so I figured out what the address was and turns out that weird guy Murray owns it."

Murray? Who you say yesterday at the farmer's market and who listened to you tell him about your dream property? That he, apparently, happens to own?

"He's not that weird," you mumble.

"He is weird but I don't give a shit because he doesn't use it and after talked to me he agreed to rent it to us for barely anything if I fixed it up a little first. So that's what I've been doing."

Steve looks at you, eyes wide and waiting. You blink a few times and try to take it all in.

"So let me get this right," you say. "When you haven't been working at Sara's or spending time with me, you've been fixing up a house that you're going to rent from Murray? And you told me none of this? For two months?"

Steve frowns. "When you say it like that I sound like the bad guy. Also, we're going to rent it." He seems to realize you haven't agreed to anything by the way his face falls and okay, maybe you're being a little unfair. Yes, he lied, a little bit, but it wasn't anything harmful. You just got in your head about it.

"I just don't get why you didn't tell me," you say, feeling small. "I was starting to think that you didn't..."

"Didn't what?" Steve reaches for you and you let him take your hands this time.

"Didn't actually want to live together. Didn't want to go on a trip. I don't know." You sigh.

Steve looks genuinely upset at that you've thought this. "Honey," he says, voice rough. "All I want is to live with you. This house is for us. Now that I'm saying it out loud I'm realizing I probably should have told you that at the start."

A whole house. You've imagined your first place together to be a dinky apartment on the edge of town. But a house? It's a dream come true. You bring Steve's palm to your cheek and lean into it.

"I thought we were good at communicating," you say softly.

"Apparantly not," he says wryly. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I just...wanted to make it nice and official first, I guess." His thumb strokes your cheek. "But you should have told me how you were feeling a long time ago."

"Yeah," you agree. "I'm sorry. Would have saved me some heartache and you some hard work. I could have helped!"

"You still can," he says, eyes lighting up. "It's not quite done. I still need to paint the outside."

You scoot forward so you're almost in his lap. "Where did you learn to fix up a house, Steve?"

"Hopper," he says. He fiddles with the strap of your bathing suit. "He's been helping. So I really was doing Hopper stuff, kind of?" He licks his lips. Another nervous tell. "So, what do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"About the house. I know it's a lot and we're still kind of young but renting means we can change our minds and --"

You put your head in your hands. "Steve," you say, voice thick. "I'm still getting over the fact that I thought you didn't want to move win with me and finding out that instead you've found us a house."

His hands circle your wrists. "Only to rent!" he says a little desperately. "I mean, you might not even like it!" You allow him to pull your palms away. Your nose starts to sting.

"I will," you say.

"Oh no," Steve says. "You look like you're going to cry." He pulls you fully into his arms and flops onto his back on the blanket, taking you with him. You land on his chest with an oof.

"I've been really scared," you say into his bare chest. "That you were going to leave and I don't know if I can follow you because I love it here even though I love you, too."

"I know," he says. "But I think this is perfect. It's close but not the place we've been. It's ours until we want something different. And I don't think I want to leave because I want to be wherever you are."

"It's so grown up." You sniffle and he rubs your back.

"I know," he sighs. You can feel his heartbeat under your cheek. "What the fuck."

"What the fuck," you echo and laugh wetly. "Is the yard big enough for a dog?"

"Sure is," he says. "Do you want to drive by when we head home?"

"I do." He hums.

You sit in silence for a few breaths. "Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, but please tell me things next time, okay?" He looks down at you through long lashes.

"Deal," he says. "I love you back, but please tell me how you're feeling, okay?"

"Deal." You roll off of him and sit up. "Can we go see our house now?"

He grins toothily. "Hell yes we can," he says. "Well, it's not ours yet. Seriously, we have to work that out with Murray. I think we need a lawyer to draw something up? I don't really know how all that works --"

You kiss him in the middle of his sentence. "We'll figure it out."

"You're right," he says. He kisses you again. "We will."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#no good at waiting #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington au

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Baby blurb of roan trying to explain to reader that she’s upset bc she misses her dad and they bind over their love for him and he comes into the room and hears it <3

thank you for your request! eddie and roan ♥︎ fem!reader

Roan feels heavy where she lays across your stomach. You've needed to use the bathroom for a while but you're reluctant to disturb her, raking your fingers through her springy dark curls.

"You're sure you're not still hungry?" you ask her.

"Not hungry," she says.

Cartoon characters fight one another on screen. A cat with a huge hammer and a mouse running away from him, though the mouse has set a trap down the hallway. Roan doesn't so much as huff, which sucks. She usually loves it.

"Is there something fun we can do, then, if you're not feeling up for anything yummy?"

"No, thanks."

You scratch her scalp with your fingernails gently. "You wanna give me a hug?"

She slowly turns in your lap to wrap her arms around your waist. You rub her back, pulling down her purple pyjama top to cover her pale skin peeking out. She's outgrowing these ones, too.

It'll be a shame when she can't fit into them anymore, you think. She's so cute in them, a soft silk that makes her look lavish, and well-looked after.

"Ro," you say, infusing your voice with love, cheer, and understanding, as much as you can, "tell me what's the matter, baby."

"I just miss daddy," she says flippantly.

"Oh." You knew that, but it's still sad. "You don't have to wait for me to ask, you know that? You can tell me straight away, whenever you miss him or you're sad."

"I know," she mumbles.

"Okay… He'll be home really soon, bub. Before bed time, he promised."

"I don't like when he's not here for dinner."

"I know."

"He does the thing with my straw, and he," —her voice starts to wear, and she sniffles— "does the Animal voice when he does the dishes…"

You cuddle her to your chest. "I know, babe. It's okay. He's gonna be home so soon, and we'll tell him just how much we miss him and it's Saturday tomorrow, so you'll see him all day long."

"I want to see him now," she says, and starts to cry.

"Roan," you say gently, softly, brimming with love and sympathy.

You pull her up the length of your chest and tuck her face into your neck, chin on top of her head, hands shielding her little shoulders. You shush her, though you don't truly want her to shush, and turn your head to kiss her temple.

"It's okay, baby," you say.

"I miss him, it's been all day," she says.

She sounds so sad, it makes you wonder if getting her in the car and driving her down to Jeff's house would make you a bad fiance. You've been alone with Roan a hundred times and she rarely gets to missing Eddie so badly. It's been a long week, though, and you understand why she's feeling this way: Eddie and Roan are an extension of one another, as close as a father and daughter can be. Eddie is a constant, a rock, a sweetheart. You don't blame her for missing all his little things.

"I know, I miss him too, princess. He's the best, huh? He's the best. I bet when he gets home he'll give you the biggest, tightest hug, and he'll give you one of his yucky wet kisses." Roan giggles. You smooth the hair back from her face, tilting her head back to dry her tears. "And we'll have to fight over who gets to lay on top of him and steal all his cuddles."

"Why are we fighting? I have two arms," Eddie says cheerily.

You jump out of your skin, Roan clutched to your chest and away from the intruder. Roan, not nearly as unnerved by his sudden appearance, wriggles out of your clutches and sprints around the sofa. She hits Eddie's calves with an audible thump.

You press your hand to your thudding chest and turn to watch as he pulls her up for a hug. He's laughing, proper dad laughs that are groaning and faux reluctant but full of love. He hugs her chest and swings her side to side.

"My big girl," he says, staring down at her face. He frowns at her shining cheeks. "My girl."

He pats her back.

"You scared the sugar out of me, Eds," you complain.

He isn't sorry, and why would he be? You barely sound like you're complaining, a smile stretching from one corner to the other. He juts his head and together you make a Roan-sandwich, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. He smells like diesel, which means you and roan are gonna smell like diesel, too, but it doesn't matter. You have all weekend to wash out the smell.

"You smell," you mumble. Your nose itches at the intensity.

"How come you say nice things behind my back and mean stuff to my face?" he asks.

"Who says I'm saying nice stuff?"

"I heard you."

"Spying isn't nice, dad," Roan says.

She rubs her face against his collar. Her fingers card in his hair clumsily.

He looks down at her. You watch his eyes soften, his lashes thick at the corners and his pupils like dimes.

He speaks into her forehead, "Are you guys hungry? 'Cause I'm starving."

"Yes!" Roan says. "So hungry!"

"You not feeding my girl?" he asks you, eyebrows raised.

You roll your eyes and lead them both into the kitchen, where his dinner and her leftovers have been covered in aluminium foil. You don't ask for an apology (because he'd only been joking), but he gives you one anyways, dotting a quick kiss to the highest point of your cheek.

Roan gets a much wetter one, and she loves it.

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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piratefalls · 8 months

Text

“You are", he says, "the absolute worst idea I've ever had.” - me @ ao3 after watching the movie and thinking "there's probably fic for this."

i like lists. i've lost sleep reading fic like it's gonna disappear the second i look away. i'm making my problem yours. i'm sure a lot of these won't be new to people since they pre-date the movie and it's far from comprehensive but. i'm late to this party. i also can't make gifs, so enjoy the basic canva header.

(baby) don't make me spell it out by extasiswings

One night near the end of first semester 1L finals, just a few weeks before the two-year anniversary of their first kiss, Alex finds himself looking up from his desk with its messy piles of color-coded notes and tabbed textbooks to see Henry asleep on the couch, clearly having dozed off waiting for him to come to bed, and unbidden he thinks, God, I’m going to marry this man. It startles him, the spike of adrenaline that floods through him waking him up and bringing the parts of his brain turning over concepts like proximate cause and strict liability to a standstill as he stares at Henry. I want to marry this man.

God Save the Blessed American President Mom by zipadeea

["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.” “June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.” “Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”] -- On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life. Alex gets shot instead.

Familiar Gravity by cmere

“Yeah,” Alex breathes, and he pulls back to look Henry in the eyes. “I’ve been fantasizing about you fucking me in this chair for, like, weeks. Every time you sit down here with your stupid book.” Henry likes it when Alex speaks Spanish and Alex has a request.

Am I the Asshole? by everwitch

AITA for spending Valentine’s Day with my roommate instead of my boyfriend? It’s well past midnight on a Saturday and hardly the first time Alex has scrolled aimlessly on his phone instead of trying to sleep, but it’s definitely the first goddamn time Alex has discovered his roommate has made a lengthy post about last night’s curry debacle to r/AmItheAsshole — a post that’s apparently gone fucking viral. -- In which Alex and Henry are college roommates, and a few thousand strangers think they should fuck.

Everybody needs good neighbours by railmedaddy

To nora(9.37pm): So a funny thing happened My hot neighbour brought me the mcflurry i ordered and we fucked From nora (9.38pm): WHAT DETAILS NOW Which neighbour? Wait, you only have one hot neighbour. Alex, did you fuck a guy?!?!?! ALEX Or Alex meets a hot new neighbour. Shenanigans ensue.

A Picture on Your Corkboard by bleedingballroomfloor

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

this is the worthwhile fight by dearhappy

It's not that Henry's scared of their future, he's never been more sure of anything in his life. The thing is they're still trying to figure out how that future is going to look. And he worries about how it'll affect Alex's career in politics.

Déjame Ver Cómo Es Que Floreces by 14carrotgold

Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?” Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?” Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?” Ah. - Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.

Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood by chamel

“I’m glad you both see it that way,” Dr. Chen says. Then she closes her notebook and folds her hands on top of it. “I think I’m starting to get a sense of where the issues lie. The good news is that you’re both here, and you’re both willing to work on this relationship. That’s promising. Not all of the couples I see are even at that point.” “Sorry, what?” Henry says, voicing Alex’s stuttering thoughts as well. (After one too many fights at work, Henry and Alex are assigned mandatory reconciliation therapy by their boss. Except the therapist thinks they're there for couples therapy... and surely, a bet on who will break first makes more sense than actually correcting her, right?)

Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by allmylovesatonce

Alex Claremont-Diaz is relocating back to Austin to join his dad's firehouse. His days as a firefighter in Washington D.C. ended badly, but no one knows that, or knows why. And he plans to keep that close to his chest. He has to shove it back down if he wants to seem like a normal person, if he wants to do the job, if he wants to get along with his new crew, and most of all, if he wants to get to know the hot British firefighter on the squad. No one can know what really happened.

thinking (about last night) by rhosyn_du

“I hope you know that I am literally never going to stop reminding you that you said that. I’m going to, like, take out an ad in the student paper. Maybe hire a skywriter or something. I am definitely telling Pez." "I hate you," Henry tells him. "Lies," Alex says, still laughing. "You know you love me." Henry lets out a heavy sigh. "Well," he says softly, "that's rather the problem, isn't it?" “What, you think we’d be better off if we still hated each other?” “I think," Henry says slowly, "I’d be better off if I could figure out how to stop being so stupidly in love with you.” It takes a few seconds for the words to really register, as distracted as Alex is by the heat of Henry’s breath and wondering how much it would cost to actually hire a skywriter. Once they do, it takes a full minute before Alex can move. Can breathe. Can think. Finally, he forces out a whispered, “What?” When that gets no response, he tries again. This time, his voice actually cooperates. “Wait, what?” The only response he gets is a soft snore and Alex realizes that Henry, the utter fucking asshole, has passed out on his shoulder.

you're the reason i let myself fall by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin)

Alex doesn't quite know what to expect when he walks into a room with a glowing screen separating him from the person in the other pod. The entire experience makes him skeptical. How can you fall in love with someone you've never met? Or: Love is Blind AU

Sharper Head, Wilder Heart by Dawg1515

"This could work out,” Henry offers. “It could,” Alex replies. “That’s good, then. Someone’s going to have to walk me through the brilliance of Empire Strikes Back, after all.” “Sweetheart, if we’re legitimately dating now, I’m forcing you to watch every movie that has Harrison Ford in it.” “Duly noted.” Or: When the Queen decides it’s time for Henry to settle down with a woman, she arranges a courtship between him and Alex Claremont-Diaz, closeted political powerhouse. Alex secretly tells Henry he’s trans, and Henry tells Alex that he’s gay. To say they become an amazing couple would be an understatement—but nothing is ever that easy for a prince and a president’s son.

every version of you (i love) by coffeecatsme

“So,” the voice narrates as the man squishes the dog’s cheeks and laughs at himself. “There’s this guy that lives next to me with the cutest beagle in the world and this little guy climbs to the fence every day to drop his toys off at, like, 5:30 on the dot, I’m not kidding.” The camera shows the man boop the dog’s nose and press a little kiss to his forehead. There’s a ball in his hands that he hands to the dog, but it slips from his mouth all over again, making the man reach down to grab it. He glares at the dog, but even then he’s still smiling. “And this guy always walks by and picks up the stuff and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever you have no idea.” The camera zooms in farther into the man’s smile, genuine and wild, as he pushes his wild curls away from his face. His eyes flicker up when another figure walks into the frame, his blonde hair falling over his forehead in waves. The man’s smile, impossibly, widens. “Oh. I’m also pretty sure he has a crush on my neighbor.” Or, 5 times David greets Alex with something that belongs to Henry, and 1 time he greets Alex with something that belongs to both of them.

The Duke Who Loved Me by annesbonny, Inareskai, schmulte

This Author knows as well as anyone how much you, gentle readers, enjoy a scandal and a love story. And what could bring more delight that two young gentlemen who bring both of those wherever they go? Join the Duke of Mountchristen and the, untitled, Mr Claremont-Diaz as they attempt to find a Love Match amongst the gossip of the ton.

The Edge of Glory by politics_and_prose

Subject: CD-10 To: Alex Claremont-Diaz ([email protected]) From: Natasha Wallace ([email protected]) Alex - You know how you jokingly told me to let you know when Mayfield was vulnerable and/or not seeking re-election? Tash

lying in the low light by smc_27

The thing about having a one night stand with the guy your sister is close friends with and gatekept from you is that it becomes really fucking important that she never knows. Or, Alex and Henry have a one year stand. Or, Alex and Henry are in a relationship, only they’re the only ones who don’t know it.

what we might do (if we stop keeping a secret) by indomitablelove

'This isn't how I wanted to tell people. I thought we'd get the chance to do it right.' - Red, White and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston, p.327 --- or, in another world, Alex and Henry get to do it right.

Who Could Love You The Same as I by MariaDmitrievnaLikesSundays

Inside was exactly what Alex had found himself dreaming about ever since that night at Kensington. The kind of dreams that he forced himself to forget once he woke up, but dreams all the same. A gold band, simple and smooth, with a single square diamond embedded on top. It was small, modest, exactly to Alex’s taste. ”Holy shit,” he said again. “Holy shit.” That was a ring. That was, unmistakably, an engagement ring. Hidden in his boyfriend’s coat. And he had just found it.

—— Or, Alex finds the engagement ring that Henry had hidden, and does exactly what you’d expect him to.

As the World Falls Down by 3bowtruckles

So while we all knew that the 2020 written in the book would be glorious fiction, we didn’t realize that reality would throw us something to take 2020 even further away from the book’s events. This story is where I attempt to merge our 2020 reality and the fiction of RWRB, using research (a LOT of research) to try to figure out what the trajectory of reality might have been. The story starts picking up the timeline after their late-February trip to Paris. After that, it's strictly AU, but I try to keep a lot of the intents of the events in the book (for instance, Alex's trip to confront Henry in Britain after the lake) while still making them fit the narrative I've created.

We'll Change the World Yet to our Dessire [sic] by cresswells

Alex and Henry are engaged and ready to share their announcement with the world, but after the media circus surrounding their forced outing Queen Mary wants them to do things properly this time. To Alex’s surprise, ‘properly’ apparently means taking a Royal Tour around Europe as an official couple. Ten days, five countries and lots of unnecessary wardrobe changes. What could possibly go wrong?

where clouds look like mountains by weather_stained

Four months after the election, while still learning to navigate the complexities of being in a public relationship, Alex finally has the chance to show Henry around Austin.

We'll Invite Something In by smc_27

Alex is grinning a little too hard. This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun. The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.

Henry's Cold, Empty Tower by DracoWillHearAboutThis

“I want you,” Henry said, slowly but clearly, “to leave.” When Alex storms Kensington Palace, Henry sends him away. Then, their relationship gets leaked, and it's Henry's turn to fight for Alex.

behind the diamond-shaped glass by Celaestis

Five times Alex and Henry used tea and biscuits to communicate, and one time they don't need to.

The Byline by rosetintednerdglasses

Press Secretary Alex Claremont-Diaz serves at the pleasure of the President, and he does it excellently until a new White House correspondent darkens his press room: Henry Fox, The Guardian.

we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) by r_holland

Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep. Warmest regards, ACD *** It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.

words on the tip of your tongue (but please don't say them) by viciouslyqueer

So close. He was so close to saying those words that have lived inside him for so long, and now it's gone, a moment that slipped right between his fingertips before he could grasp it. Now he’s floating in the middle of the lake alone, the ghost of Henry’s touch still lingering on his skin and an unknown, heartbreaking feeling in his chest. — Or: canon-divergence where Henry doesn't leave the lake house.

The Grand Tour by lucky (revolutionbarbie)

When Henry returned from an audience with Queen Mary looking stony faced and grim, Alex had immediately feared the worst. She had requested to see Henry – and Henry alone – the moment their plane had landed at Heathrow on a visit to Pez’s new shelter in London. Alex had suggested that they go to see her together just to spite the old hag, but Henry wanted to keep the peace. Since moving to Brooklyn, they had entered into an uncomfortable détente with Queen Mary and Henry was loathe to be the one to break it. “She wants us to go to Australia. It would be an unofficial Royal Tour, of sorts, with stops in several cities and a short visit to New Zealand. Three and a half weeks in total.” “She wants to send us on an all-expenses paid Australian getaway? Count me in.”

come and get me by rizcriz

The email arrives 8 days after Henry left the lake house. He contemplates deleting it without reading, but it sits in his Alex inbox, where there are over seventy emails favourited, and somehow it feels wrong and weirdly impersonal. As if leaving without a note were any different. He stares at the from line with an aching longing that seeps into his veins. It settles on his heart like a tangible thing; something warranted and cruel that casts shackles around the aorta and locks them tight so that he might never love again. -- or, alex sends an email instead of flying to KP.

Never Did Run Smooth by clottedcreamfudge

"You and me? Best friends. Stellar. Love that for us. But we could absolutely fake being in love. Dating. Whatever. I know literally everything about you—" (No you don't, Henry thinks firmly) "—and you know everything about me. We would absolutely fucking annihilate the other contestants.” "You're too drunk to apply," Henry points out, like he himself isn't about as wasted as it's possible for him to be without curling up and going immediately to sleep. "I doubt you could spell your own name right on the application. Or mine." Alex grins and pulls something up on his phone; it looks like it takes him a few tries. "Wanna fucking bet?" *** Or: Henry's life is a comedy of errors; a patchwork of oopsie-daisies; a quilt stitched together with hauntingly terrible mistakes. And at the centre of it all is his best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz; director of said comedy, threading together his oopsie-daisies into a flower crown, rolling around in the quilt of his own making, and this analogy is going to shit because Henry's so in love with him he wants to die.

idk I'll do a part two if anyone wants.

#rwrb #firstprince #red white and royal blue #fic rec #fic rec list #i try not to do multiple authors on the same list so #just assume if they're here i read all their stuff plus their bookmarks lmao #for the record I have 100% read the book I just didn't think there'd be fic for it lmao #rwrb rec list

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. vii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: Reader and Joel try (poorly) to keep their budding relationship hidden from Sarah. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 6.3k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. Angst, PTSD (though not explicitly stated). References to abusive parents. A bit of a drunken brawl. Men being generally shitty and misogynistic. Alcohol and marijuana mention. Fluff. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: Strap in, ya'll. This chapter is pretty heavy at times but I promise, it'll be worth it. Things have been going well so we needed to bring some drama! Also, some of my links are breaking and I try to update them but as of right now the masterlist should have links to all the chapters ! Also special shoutout to @str84pedro for reminding me to close out the 'Joel getting his wallet back' storyline. And @ay0nha for the Hank Williams joke. tysm my friends.

-June 27th, 2003-

“Joel.”

Pleasure swirls low in your belly, his name comes out as a throaty moan.

“Aren’t you-oh, fuck,” you manage. “-worried y-your neighbors might see?”

You’re splayed open on one of the patio chairs in his backyard, fingers curled in his hair. The dress you’d worn is hiked over your hips, thong pushed to the side. Joel has long since pulled your legs apart, one of them hooked over the cool metal arm of the chair, the other pressed against his cheek, his beard rubbing your skin raw.

“No.” His lips pull away from the suction they have on your clit, but the two fingers he’s got inside you continue to work diligently, scissoring and curling against a spot deep within you that serves as the cause for all your stuttering. “They shouldn’t be lookin’ over the fence,” he murmurs, voice surprisingly clear and steady considering what he’s doing to you. “And if you stay quiet, you won’t give them a reason to.”

Joel hums contentedly as he latches his mouth back against the sensitive bud, sucking furiously, and you do as you’re told, panting into your palm to keep your whimpers to yourself. It’s Joel who seems to be struggling the most to stay quiet, especially when you arch your back to press your hips into his face, and he moans against you. He loves going down on you – you’ve learned through lots of experience. As if to prove it, you look down to where he’s knelt between your legs and see that his free hand is squeezing himself over his jeans.

It’s only been ten minutes since you walked through his front door. Currently, you can’t remember what your plans had been for the night. Seeing a movie? Going to dinner? For a walk? Your brain is mush. But Joel had suggested you have a quick drink on his back patio before leaving and, well…here you are.

You can’t get enough of Joel, and yet, you never have to ask for him. When you have plans, they’re often abandoned, and you end up tangled in bedsheets together. Whether it’s his place or yours, he’s taken you everywhere and every way you can think of, but you still want more. He is just as insatiable.

Sarah has been away at camp for two weeks now, which means you’d actually gotten to spend an entire weekend together. This past Saturday, Joel had made good on a promise to spend an entire day in bed with you, and then Sunday was spent the same way after he’d revealed to you he had never had sex stoned. Well, we need to fix that, you’d said. It felt like a huge accomplishment when you were able to drag yourselves out of bed and clean up for long enough to grab a meal at a 24-hour diner that wasn’t far down the road. Such a short drive, even, that when you’d tried to suck him off in the car on the way home Joel had said there ‘wasn’t enough time.’

Of course, most of your flings started off with this phase, but Joel still found ways to surprise you at every turn. You didn’t know it was possible to be with someone who was so thoughtful, so sincere. It was easy to trust him, to be yourself with him, even if you were still learning how.

Tonight is your last night alone before Sarah returns from camp, and Joel’s determined to use it to his full advantage.

After you’ve come on his fingers, against his tongue – and he talks you through it – Joel pulls you onto his lap. He’s still on his knees, crushing you against him, and you can feel him straining through his jeans.

“We’re not gonna make it to the movie, are we?” It’s more of an observation than it is anything else, pulling back from one of his greedy kisses.

“You wouldn’t be upset if we didn’t go, would you?” There’s some sincerity in his expression, like he almost feels bad.

“Stay here with you, or go see a terrible action movie?” you say, shaking your head, steadying your breathing. “That’s a tough one.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but doesn’t hide his smile. “Want to go upstairs?”

“Sure.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At this point you’ve been in Joel’s room more than once. But you notice new things each time. There’s photos of him and Sarah he has framed on his dresser, one from when she’s just a toddler, and he looks not much older than a kid himself. He has a stack of books there too, but they’re collecting dust, one of them is some sort of thick construction manual, and the other is titled Everything You Need To Know About Creating a Startup. You would sooner crack those open than you would your old law textbooks. There’s always a pile of clothes on the floor, and you don’t think the chair in the corner has ever not had a couple pairs of his work jeans strewn over the back.

Joel lays back on the bed, stretches out like a cat, his arms above his head, flannel and t-shirt combo lifting to reveal the swathe of hair that trails down and disappears into his jeans. You’re well accustomed to his body at this point, but it still doesn’t stop your stomach from flipping every time any inch of his skin is revealed to you. The muscles in his biceps flex as he props his head back on his forearm, looks over at you, pausing in the threshold. “Why are you bein’ shy all the sudden?”

“Can’t I just look at you?”

Joel’s face gets flushed, or at least, it sort of looks like it does, and he holds a hand towards you. “Get over here.”

You step forward to take his hand, and he tugs you onto him, shifting his weight so the line of his body is pressed against yours. Since he’s already gotten you off, and you had a few moments apart while walking upstairs, you’ve both calmed down a little, and the kisses he gives you are lazy, exploratory.

Outside, all the light has nearly left the sky. A cool breeze filters through his open windows, the sheer curtains billowing out. When you shiver, Joel pulls you closer, one broad, warm palm raking up your arm, brushing over pebbled skin.

Joel makes love to you slowly, languidly, hovering over you. This isn’t new, it’s how he always seems to like it. Before, it had never been your favorite. You used to think it meant there was a lack of enthusiasm, but you must have been with the wrong people. With Joel, it just makes sense. You’re still able to taste the desperation dripping off of him when you trace your tongue along his collarbone, and can feel how badly he wants you in the unhurried drag of his fingertips. The way he touches you, so confident, but also so tenderly, makes you feel insane. All you want to do is take and take. And he’s so eager to give it to you.

When you wake the next morning, your cheek is resting on his sternum, and his palm in the dip of your spine. Window still open from the night before, you can hear the morning doves calling – probably what woke you to begin with. Something you’ve learned is that when given the chance, Joel loves to sleep. You do too, obviously, but it doesn’t seem to come as easily. So when you tilt your head back to look up at him, you’re surprised to find him already awake. Sunlight glitters off the amber in his eyes, and there’s such a warmth to his gaze that your first instinct is to turn away.

But you don’t. You let him kiss you, let his beard tickle your neck.

“I love waking up next to you,” Joel whispers.

Even though you’re too afraid to say anything in return, he doesn’t hold it against you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-July 5, 2003-

Sarah answers the door to her house before your knuckles can even make contact with the wood. She all-but pounces on you as you step over the threshold, wrapping you in a hug that’s so tight you barely can breath, and pulling back before you can return it. “How are you? Where have you been?”

“I’m good, just busy,” She’s been back for a week and you still haven't had a chance to see her. Work has been hectic, and you’d even had to work during the holiday yesterday to meet a deadline for a new client. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she gives you another quick hug.

You wait for her to pull back before she speaks again. “How was camp?”

“So much fun,” she nods. “But I got eaten alive by mosquitos so I’m kind of happy to be home.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t know how well I’d do out in the wilderness for so long.”

“Oh yeah,” Sarah raises her eyebrows. “The New Yawk-er,” she says with an unconvincing accent, but grimaces. “Sorry, that was bad.”

“We’ll work on it,” you pat her shoulder.

There’s a fresh smattering of freckles across her nose from the days she’s spent outside under the Texan sun, which is unrelenting this time of year. It also seems she’s grown another inch since the last time you’d seen her, but you can’t be certain. “My dad is upstairs. Running late as usual,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You can come in. I have so much to tell you.”

You act tentative, because as far as she knows, this is your first time in her home. When you sit on the couch, she plops next to you, leaning against the cushions. “What’s this?” you reach for one of the many photos strewn out across the coffee table.

“Oh, that’s my dad and his brother when they were kids.” The photo is of the two young boys seated in a red wagon. Tommy’s got a half-eaten strawberry in his hand, his lips and cheeks stained red. And he’s leaning back against Joel, who's wearing a cowboy hat that’s far too big for him, his plump cheek resting on the top of his brother’s dark curls. You are ashamed by the twinge of bitter longing that twists in your gut when you see their carefree smiles, despite it being one of the sweetest one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen. But you’re even more ashamed that for one quick second, you wonder what Joel would look like with a son that age. Would he be just as adorable? “My dad was going through a bunch of old family photos the other day,” Sarah says.

“Cute,” you observe.

But Sarah doesn’t seem as interested in them as you do, so to avoid any suspicion, you put the photo down. You let her recount her trip, starting with day one, and moving on. Sarah explains what it was like to live in a cabin for a week, to sleep for a night under the stars. She learned archery, and swam, and rode horses, and hiked, and wove friendship bracelets with the other girls there. She shows you one of the multicolored woven bracelets on her wrist, and pulls an identical one out of her pocket to fasten around your own. It’s so thoughtful you aren’t quite sure how to thank her, and you’re hit with a fresh wave of guilt over the secret you’ve been keeping. It had been easier to ignore when she wasn’t around.

You hear Joel shuffling down the stairs before he comes into view. “You ready, babygirl?”

“Yeah,” Sarah answers. “We’re waiting.”

“Hey,” Joel says when he reaches the landing. He pauses, looks between you and Sarah, huddled on the couch together, and then nods at you once. “Nice to see you.”

“You too,” you say, rather rigidly. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Of course,” he says over his shoulder as he heads into the kitchen. He’s trying so hard to be nonchalant, you almost buy it. Almost.

The county fair only lasts a week, and tonight is the last night you’re able to go. Sarah had called you at work a few days earlier to invite you. She seemed adamant that although it was a yearly tradition to go with Joel, she wanted you there. I asked my dad already and he said it was fine. It had been awhile since you’d gone to a carnival, and you weren’t one to turn down the opportunity to eat a funnel cake and drink some fresh-squeezed lemonade.

“Alright,” Joel returns from the kitchen with his car keys, all business. “Let’s head out.”

He holds the door open as Sarah filters outside, followed by you. But you stop yourself in the threshold, turning to Joel. “Did you remember your wallet?” You ask him out of habit, because historically speaking, he’s always leaving it behind.

Joel pats his pockets, groans, throwing his head back. “Shit.” and then disappears back inside. Briefly, you worry that Sarah might have picked up on the implications of the question – maybe you know him a little too well – but she doesn’t even seem to be paying attention, and you scold yourself for being so paranoid.

“Good catch,” Joel says as he exits the house, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket. He grins at you and Sarah.

You bite back a teasing remark. Are you sure you’re the oldest child in your family? Sometimes he seems just a tad too frazzled, forgetful. That might’ve drawn a laugh from him, or a pointed ‘Shut Up’. But you’ve got to keep that sort of thing to yourself, if you can.

You pile into the car, Sarah in the back and you on the passengers side, but it doesn’t stop her from leaning forward to stay in the conversation while Joel puts his elbow over the bench seat and looks over his shoulder to back out of the driveway. It’s a hot night, so he’s only got on a fitted t-shirt that’s a tad too tight through his chest and upper body. You do everything in your power not to let your gaze linger on him. It’s hard to believe someone could make putting a car in reverse sexy, but if anyone could do it, it’s Joel.

“Do you like The Chicks?” Sarah asks from behind you, once you’re on the road.

“I don’t listen to much country music,” you’re honest.

“You live in Texas,” Joel interjects.

“Yeah, you live in Texas,” Sarah echoes. “I think you’ll like them. Dad, will you play my favorite song?” She nudges you to get your attention. “He finally fixed his radio.”

“Is your seatbelt on?” Joel does a double-take when he notices how far up she’s sitting.

“Yes, I actually can get a pretty good range of motion with this thing.”

“Well it needs to go across your shoulders,” Joel adjusts his rearview mirror so he can see Sarah better.

“It is, Dad,” she chastises. “Can you please play the song?”

You smirk. Joel puts one of the discs sitting in his center console into the CD player, and then skips forward two tracks.

“Turn it up,” Sarah says immediately as the first few bars of quiet guitar kick in.

“I should’ve never bought you this album,” Joel grumbles, but reaches out and obeys.

I said I wanna touch the earth, I wanna break it in my hands, I wanna grow something wild and unruly….

“Are you going to learn to play this on guitar like I asked?” she questions Joel, who is focused on the road.

“No,” he deadpans.

Oh, you play guitar? You’re tempted to ask, like he doesn’t put on a show for you every time you decide to get stoned on your back porch – which has been often, lately. But it seems a little too risky, so you keep your mouth shut. It’s better right now to be an observer.

“Why not?” Sarah asks.

“Not my style.”

“It might be good to expand your catalog outside of Hank Williams and Johnny Cash,” Sarah encourages.

“I play more than just them,” Joel defends himself.

“Whatever you say,” Sarah says, but looks over at you as though she’s skeptical. You grin and roll down your window.

I said, cowboy take me away, fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue…

“Turn it up,” Sarah prompts again.

Joel pretends like he doesn’t hear her, so when she requests again, you reach out to do it. Instantly, you’re met with a firm, smack on the back of your hand. “It’s loud enough,” he says.

“Dad!” Sarah exclaims, and seems almost shocked that he would do such a thing, offended on your behalf.

Joel doesn’t turn from the road. “She’s fine.”

“Ouch,” you dramatize, shaking out your hand, egged on by Sarah.

“Oh, come on, I barely touched you,” Joel reaches out, squeezing your hand gently in response. A force of habit. For a second, you’ve both forgotten where you are, who you are with. Joel pulls away, clears his throat and looks back at the road. “You’re fine.”

You know if you look for Sarah’s reaction, you’ll give yourself away. So instead you continue to antagonize. “What if I was turning it up for myself?”

“Yeah, dad. It’s a really good song.”

“It is,” you nod. “I’m enjoying it.”

“Stop that. Don’t encourage her,” Joel warns you.

You reach back out to turn up the radio.

“Oh, come on,” Joel rolls his eyes, realizing he’s outnumbered, but he sort of laughs as he does it, running his hand through his hair.

I wanna be the only one for miles and miles, except for maybe you and your simple smile…

You look over your shoulder to wink at Sarah, who is beaming. Satisfied now that the music is blaring from the truck’s speakers, she settles back against her seat and looks out the window, the wind tousling her hair, her sweet voice singing along faintly to the rest of the song. Joel gives you a sidelong glance when she’s not looking, the same unidentifiable warmth in his eyes that you had seen last weekend, and you let your eyes remain on him for another moment, before forcing yourself to turn away.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun is down, and the lights of the carnival glitter and twinkle as you weave through the crowd. Sarah’s arm linked through your own, the other around a giant stuffed teddy bear you’d somehow managed to win at the shooting gallery booth. All those summers of your brother forcing you to play ‘target practice’ with his BB gun when you were supposed to be honing your serve finally paid off. There’s a band playing swing music somewhere, but there are so many people around, and you’ve sort of lost your spatial awareness. Joel and Sarah both seem to know where they are going, so you stick with them.

Every now and then, in the fleeting moments when Sarah runs up ahead of you, or turns her back to look at something, Joel will take her place. You had been a little worried that your teasing in the car may have gone too far, but he doesn’t seem upset. It’s quite the opposite, really. He’ll wind an arm around your waist, put his lips to your temple, squeeze your hand. He seems completely at ease despite the relative chaos around you, and always manages to pull himself away just in time.

“Should we go into the funhouse?” Sarah asks, after your little group has pulled off to the side.

“Eh,” you wrinkle your nose. “I’ll pass.”

“What?” she’s incredulous. “No! You have to, come on.”

“I don’t really want to,” you shake your head.

“Why not?”

“Sarah,” Joel interjects. “She said no.”

“They make me claustrophobic,” you say, tone much softer than her father’s. You were pretty sure you’d be fine, but it seems dumb to traumatize yourself doing something that’s quite literally supposed to be fun.

Surprisingly, Sarah doesn’t continue to press, and instead turns to her father. “I think I’ll stay back,” Joel says. “But you go ahead. We’ll wait.”

“Ugh, lame,” Sarah rolls her eyes, but doesn’t protest, pushing the giant stuffed teddy bear towards it. Joel tucks it under his arm – he’s already holding a bag of popcorn, and she bounds off.

“I didn’t know you were claustrophobic,” Joel says, his eyes locked on Sarah until he sees her disappear into the attraction. Then he turns to you.

“Only in specific situations,” you explain. “Plus, did you know that funhouses were originally invented to give people panic attacks?”

“What? Really?”

“No,” you say. “I just made that up.”

Joel shakes his head. “I guess if I’m thinking about movies I’ve seen, nothing good ever comes from a funhouse.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Carnivals in general don’t usually great media representation.”

“Well, I hope you’re having fun at this one.”

“I am,” you smile at Joel. The crowd is just tipsy enough to be pleasant, and it’s not late enough in the evening for any children to be having the tired-hungry-overstimulated meltdown yet. Plus, you’re in good company. “Are you?”

“I would be havin’ more fun if I didn’t have to watch you walk in front of me in that little dress all night.”

You look down at the floral sundress you’re wearing. It’s very flattering and feminine, and felt right for the hot summer evening. “You don’t like it?”

“No,” Joel says. “I like it a little too much.”

“Oh,” you nod. “I mean….I did sort of wear it because I figured you would.”

“Darlin’,” Joel puts his head back and groans dramatically. “Please don’t tell me that.”

“What’s the issue?”

“Because I can’t touch you. I could now, but instead I’ve gotta carry all her shit.”

You snort, amused, crossing your arms. “You’re in the trenches, huh?”

“Exactly. At least you understand,” Joel smirks. You’re unable to resist the urge to lean close enough to wrap your arms around his torso and kiss him, despite being rather out in the open. Joel lets out a noise that sounds like relief, hand on your waist, keeping you from pulling back.

“How long do you think she’ll be gone?” His eyes flick behind you towards the funhouse. “Think we could sneak off, pay off a carnie to keep watch so we could- what’s that face?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “You’ve clearly thought this through…”

“Well, I’ve been third wheeling all night so I had time to get creative,” Joel drops his hand from you and turns you both around so you can see in between two booth games. “You see over there, between those two tents…there’s a dumpster-”

“Sounds hot…”

“Right?”

“...And also kind of like the beginning of an episode of Law & Order.”

Joel loses it, and you steal a bite of popcorn from the bag in his hand to hide how satisfied you are at making him laugh so hard. You nudge him in the ribs with your elbow when his hand goes to cover his eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

The smile doesn’t leave your face as quickly as Joel’s does when you both pivot to find Sarah standing behind you. “Hey babygirl,” he offers a weak grin. “That was quick.”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling. “There wasn’t a line.”

You try not to act suspicious, but you’re wondering how much she heard. Apparently, not enough to be skeptical, because she continues on. “And you’re right,” she looks at you. “It wasn’t very fun.”

“Yeah,” you nod, reaching to take some more popcorn out of the bag in Joel’s hand, hoping it just seems like a nonchalant, platonic thing. “They’re kind of a lot right?”

She nods, shrugs, and then reaches for the popcorn herself. You might be in the clear, and make a pointed effort to keep more distance between you and Joel for the rest of the night.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Do you think we should stop for another snack?” Sarah asks, like you haven’t already eaten your weight in junk this evening. But you’ve arrived at a little picnic area surrounded by food trucks and vendors. “Maybe we can sit down for a little.”

“That sounds nice,” Joel says. “Why don’t you two get in line, I’m gonna run to put this in the car.” He lifts the prize you’d given to Sarah up with a grimace. Somehow, he ended up carrying the plush bear all night.

“Is it too heavy for you?” Sarah teases. Joel doesn’t even answer, just rolls his eyes and turns around.

“I’ll be back,” he calls over his shoulder.

Sarah’s giggles subside and Joel disappears into the crowd.

“Where do you wanna go?” you ask her, putting your hands on your hips and taking in the area. At this point in the night, many people attending appear to be fairly plastered. At this point in the evening, most of the families with younger children have cleared out, and it’s well past dinner time, so there aren’t a ton of people hanging in the area. “I probably owe you dinner. And your dad a beer, since he’s paid for everything.”

“He’d like that,” Sarah says. “I’m glad you two are friends.”

“Oh?” you glance over at her. “Yeah, me too.” Sarah just stares at you, doesn’t say anything. “You have a nice family. You, your dad, your Uncle Tommy…”

Sarah just keeps studying you.

“What?”

Her eyes narrow, just a touch. You recall what Joel had told you about her picking up your mannerisms, but you never realized how horrible it was to be on the other side. Still, it was you, who had taught her this, so you do your best to appear confused. What do you want from me? It works, and she smiles, shakes her head, then looks at the ground. “Nothin’,” when she looks back up, there’s something melancholy about her expression, and she kicks the toe of her Converse into the gravel. “Can we get a funnel cake?”

“Lead the way.”

As you follow her to the food truck, her petite form gets jostled by some of the patrons waiting in line near a drink stand. You have to squeeze through them to get by. There’s a picnic table near the walkway where a bunch of men sit – hunched over, listening to a man on the end of the bench tell a very animated story. Several empty draft cups and beer bottles are stacked or lined up on their table, and the sickeningly sweet smell of the tipped cigarillos they’re smoking makes your nostrils burn.

Just as Sarah’s about to pass them, the man talking stretches his arms wide, and the hand that just so happens to be clutching a solo cup filled to the brim reaches out directly into Sarah’s path.

It’s too late. She collides with his arm, and the beer is knocked from his hand, landing on the picnic table and spraying everyone in the vicinity with liquid and sticky foam.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Sarah says, putting her hand over her mouth, genuinely apologetic.

And that’s where it should’ve ended.

“What the fuck?” the man, who looks to be about your age, maybe a little older, gives her a once over.

You reach Sarah. “Are you alright?” you ask, stepping between her and the man, turning her away from his nasty glare. Before she can answer, he speaks up again.

“You better learn to watch where you’re fucking going, girl!”

Sarah’s jaw drops, even though she’s staring at the gravel. You turn to face the man. “Hey,” you keep your voice light. “Calm down, dude, it was an accident.”

“Oh, it was an accident?” The man looks down at his shirt, soaked through, then back up at you, his hand landing on the table. “Seems like a pretty big fuckin’ accident.”

“She said sorry,” you shrug. And if you really want to get down to brass tacks, asshole, it was totally your fault, you think, but you keep your cool.

The man drags himself to his feet. Your head tilts back to look at him, notice how he hulks over you, and you ignore the feeling of your heart rate picking up. But you stand your ground, pushing Sarah backwards without looking, hoping to put some space between her and what is becoming an increasingly ridiculous situation. Who the fuck picks a fight with a middle school girl?

“Are you at least gonna pay for another round?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you pretend to reach for your purse, even though you have no intention of giving him any money. Prick. You can’t help yourself. “You’re at a county fair in Texas, what do you want, like, two dollars?”

The man flicks the plastic tip of his cigar onto the ground. For a brief moment, your eyes float towards the men at the table behind him. Some of them are watching, seemingly amused, while others stare at the table. Like they know they should be doing something about this, but they aren’t. They won’t. Typical.

The truth is, you’re scared. You’ve been here before. Helpless, praying that some adult would intervene - and being let down every time. Surely, someone had to know. Surely, someone could’ve helped you. In the end, you had to do what you were doing now. Look out for yourself.

“Shut the fuck up, you fuckin’ cunt.” He says it like it’s supposed to end the conversation. But being a woman who's been on her own most of her adult life, and regularly seen as a threat to men’s fragile egos, you give him zero points for creativity.

Your fatal flaw is your mouth. It can get you into trouble, it can get you out of trouble, but one thing is certain; when you’re angry, you always have shit to say.

“Is that all you got?” you ask.

Any bit of bravery that remains vanishes entirely when the man’s hand rises. You take a step backward but know it’s too late, flinching in anticipation. Sarah, who's huddled behind you, clings to your waist, and you nearly topple over her but luckily, you don’t lose your footing.

The impact never comes.

Well, not for you, at least.

Joel has materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, and his hands are fisted in the collar of the man’s shirt. He’s yelling something unintelligible, and it doesn’t really register because you are too focused on the fact that he looks like a wild fucking animal – teeth bared into a nasty snarl, his voice gravelly. Your Joel, the sweet and gentle man who you’ve come to care so much about looks positively feral.

Of course, it’s only then that the other men at the table decide to intervene. It takes three of them to pull Joel off before he can do any significant damage, and they all scatter, heading out in the opposite direction.

You can’t move. It could’ve been worse, you think. There wasn’t even a punch thrown. But it caught enough attention from the crowd that you can hear people murmuring amongst themselves now, like they deserved to have an opinion as bystanders.

Sarah releases her grip from you as Joel makes his way back towards you both, looking shockingly calm after what you’d just seen him do. His daughter tucks herself against his chest, he murmurs something into her hair. You’re still frozen in place, but you manage to turn your head away from the scene, sniff, and straighten up.

“Hey, are you okay?” Joel’s voice is in your ear, his hand is on your shoulder, his face coming into view. For one split second, you’re struck by the impulse to pitch forward, to bury your face into his chest and allow yourself to be comforted. That’s until you see Sarah under his opposite arm and you remember where you are. You’re not a child.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Like he doesn’t believe you. You nod, step away enough that his hand drops off of you, and you cross your arms. “I saw what he-”

“I’m fine,” you put every bit of venom that you can into your voice without letting it crack, and you see the change in his face. Whiplash. Oops. That’s too far in the opposite direction. “Really, I’m good,” you say, much more gently this time. Then you force a smile, before realizing that even if you are okay, it’s not really appropriate to smile in this type of situation so you abandon that strategy.

Breathe. Reset.

Reaching out, you squeeze Sarah’s arm. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her cheeks wet, but she doesn’t appear to be crying anymore. “Are you alright?” you ask her.

Sarah nods, relaxing slightly. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“Of course,” you answer, and now that you’ve shoved every emotion that came bubbling up back to their rightful place, you’re able to offer: “Guess I’m not too great at deescalating.”

“Well, he wasn’t very nice.”

“He was a fucking asshole,” Joel rubs her back, but doesn’t release her. It’s only then you can see he’s still on high alert. “But I think that’s our cue to get out of here.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Keeping control of your emotions, as you have gotten older, does not work as well as it used to. And this…event….feels like you’ve gone to pull a loose thread off a sweater, only to realize it was the one that held the whole damned thing together. You don’t realize until it’s too late, and the next thing you know, you’re on the floor of your closet, scraps of fabric all over the floor, and no idea what to do with them. Oh, and it’s cold outside, so now you have nothing to wear.

In the car on the way home. Sarah and Joel chat a bit. They go over everything that happened in detail, starting with the spilled beer. You don’t speak. You can feel your heartbeat thrumming in your body, your jaw clenched so tightly it’s begun to ache. It’s hard to tell if you want to scream or cry – maybe both, but as the whole situation solidifies itself in your memory, you’re starting to feel like it might be more of the latter. And you just want to get home, so when it happens, you can be alone.

It’s not great to know that you have fucked up the whole vibe. Unfortunately, you cannot give anything else right now. Joel keeps looking over at you, and you imagine he thinks you’re acting pretty pathetic.

Joel pulls into his driveway, puts the car in park, and you can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Until he speaks up.

“Sarah, can you give us a minute?” he asks, and you hear his car keys jingle. Elbow on the window frame, fist pressed against your nose, you stare at the dashboard. “I’ll be inside in a little bit.”

“Yeah…” Sarah answers, though she sounds timid. There’s the click of a seatbelt, and she slides out of the car on your side. As she passes your open window, she pats your shoulder gently, and you nod. You watch her walk up the path to her front door and ignore the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you.

He says your name, and you give in, turn to look at him, just for a second. “Thank you for looking out for her,” So earnestly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier.”

“Yeah, well….it wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours, either.”

“Yeah.”

The front door slams closed. Sarah’s inside, and Joel reaches out, moves a bit closer to you. He lays his hand on the side of your face, guiding you to look at him. You can’t meet his eyes, or he might see right through you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Has something like that-?”

You know what he’s getting at. You don’t need to hear the rest of the question. “No.”

"Please," Joel takes a deep breath, dropping his eyes. “You can tell me the truth.”

You hate that he knows you’re not. And you hate yourself for hurting him, for being so cruel and dismissive when he’s only trying to help. But what is going to happen if he knows you? If he really knows who you are? “Joel,” you shake your head. “I can’t get into it.”

“Okay,” he says, nods.

“But….” you raise your hand, let it clasp around his wrist, over his watch. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Why don’t you come inside for a little, huh?” He asks. “Watch a movie with Sarah and I?”

“I don’t know, I-” You’re not sure how much longer you can keep the tears to yourself. You’d been planning on letting them out the second you walk inside, and bottling them up for more time sounds excruciating. So what are your valid excuses? “She might figure out that-”

Joel shakes his head. “I don’t care about that right now.”

“It’s late.” You say, as if you’re actually going to sleep tonight.

“You just spent the whole night with us. What’s another hour or two?”

Those were your two best shots. Joel finally asks. He’s pleading with you, you can see in his face. This is for him. It’s not even about you. Well, it is. But it’s sincere. He’s not just pitying you. “Alright.”

Sarah seems just as relieved to see you walk through the front door as Joel had been when you agreed. She sits between you on the couch while you watch some shitty action movie Joel picked out, and falls asleep curled up against his side. Once her measured breathing fills the room, Joel reaches over to clasp your hand, thumb rubbing over the back of your palm, and he doesn’t let go.

Your plans to end the night crying yourself to sleep are long forgotten by the time you get home.

-----

taglist: @netflix-imagines @waymorecake4me @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester @raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow @user294829329 @gushington-central @hollyismentallyillhelp @dresseduplikeacarcrash @corvusmorte @aheartgonewild @19891213 @emoslave44 @elthreetimes @gushington-central @peqchsoup @dresseduplikeacarcrash @user294829329

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xmycxx · 9 months

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hello! how are you?

i wanted to say i love your tattoo!artist ellie and how you write. i don't know if anyone has already sent you this ask, but could you do a headcanon about jealous ellie?

💗💗💗

oh fuCK YES!!!

alright so in tattoo!ellie universe, i genuinely and very strongly believe that she would tattoo her initials or some matching tattoos with you so everyone can see you're hers

i feel like she wouldnt get jealous too easily, ik loads of writers say that but i stronlgy believe that while yea she would get jealous she wouldn't act on it

let's say she takes you to a bar and it's been like one hell of a long week, you're sitting there with your friends on a saturday night

ofc there's no spare seat so she offered you her lap

you get up to get her another drink, in my mind she drinks an old fashioned on the rocks, prolly jack daniels

so you go to get her another one, this guy comes upto you asking you who "the man who ordered that nice drink is."

you just laughed and tried to get away bc yknow, creepy man at a bar, but he just sorta kept going

at this point, i don't think ellie would be jealous, concerned? yes, jealous? no, you look like you stuck your hands in mud, you're disgusted

after a minute or two, she'd slide over and put her hand around your waist, taking the glass from your hand and taking a sip while making direct eye contact with the guy

"Oh this is my girlfriend, I was trying to take her drink."

your rexplanation was fully lost on this man as he scurried away from her death glare

if we're talking jealous jealus and not just protective? Buckle tf up

it'll be like if you're spending too much time with someone who isn't her

like everytime she asks you to hangout? "sorry babe, she just asked me to come out for drinks" or "I'm so sorry els, she said she needed help with something"

she'd get pissed

not because she's insecure, well, partially, but because she's so fuckin needy for you

you'd be getting ready to meet her for something, getting all dolled up, wearing her favorite outfit on you for someone else, girly would fully break

all up on you, kissing your neck, hands circling around your waist, distracting the fuck out of you so you can't even formulate a thought about leaving her

"babe i'm... fuck... I'm running late."

"Leave then."

let's just say you had a Nice Long Talk (AKA she fucked your brains out with her tattooed arm so you never even have a thought that isn't about her for the next week)

#tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #tattoo!ellie #tattoo!ellie x reader #jealous ellie #the last of us #the last of us 2 #lgbtq #lesbian #tattoo

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idyllcy · 21 days

Text

con..? cosplay - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #3)

"I should start an onlyfans." You hum, going through your photos as Tim blinks.

"Can't. Did you see the news? Also, do you really want to be exploited by old men?"

"Right. The donation." You huff. "Well, I'll just have you build a website."

"pretty bird..."

"I know, I know. I'll build the website." You grumble. "Or..."

"Or?"

"You can go to the con next week dressed up and I can take photos." You grin.

"AG?"

"AG." You give him a thumbs up.

"And who would I dress up as?"

"I may... or may not have already bought it..." You hold back a smile as he glances at you.

"Does it have to do with the Hades cosplay that came into the mail two days ago?"

"Maybe?"

"You're making me cosplay Thanatos, aren't you."

"..." You purse your lips.

"Just because I have—"

"You have the eboy haircut for it. I'll just spray some gray on." You give him a thumbs up.

"And then you?" He pauses. "No. Don't tell me. Are you going out with your tits out?"

"NO."

"Are you leaving your tits out?"

"Did you not—"

"Bra."

"Yes."

"You're going to let people see how you look?" Tim huffs, and you pull out his cosplay for him.

"Not if I'm contouring fake abs onto myself." You shrug. "It's alright... Neither of us have the height for it anyway."

"At least you're aware."

You stick your tongue out at him.

"Don't you have to go barefoot?"

You grimace. "No. I'm not doing that. Also, you're gonna have your tits out."

"I figured." He grimaces. "Are you going to paint me gray?"

"Maybe." You grin.

"Did you buy tickets?"

"Yeah. You said you'd go all four days so I just bought the full pass." You hum. "You're still going, right?"

"Yeah."

"You should show up at the Red Robin meetup I'm hosting." You hum. "In suit."

"I figured you'd say that."

"It'll be funny." You grin. "I'll be in my knock off suit."

"You could probably fit in one of my old ones." Tim mumbles. "What day is that?"

"Saturday at six."

"You want me to change in the bathroom?"

"You'll be fine." You pat his chest. "You can exit and then re-enter."

"In that hellish line?"

"Use your nepo baby privileges."

"Denied."

You stick your tongue out at him. "The con ends at 6."

"Oh... so I just leave and then."

"Yeah." You give him a thumbs up. "Be sure to NOT wear your wedding ring please. Please."

Tim gives you a grin that can only mean he's going to wear it.

#WHERE ARE YOU ALL COMING FROM WHAT THE FUCK #me: oh i'll do it ever 2 follower increase n then me biting the drywall bc u all r coming from nowhere help do u guys like pretty bird???#tim drake x reader #☾.blurbs #☾.events #☾.pretty bird

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starspence · 10 months

Text

perfect [spencer reid x reader drabble]

a little spencer drabble bc i was obsessed with thinking abt what it would be like to wake up with him </3 (cw; none! just fluff!) (w.c. - 1k)

masterlist ♡

Dating an FBI agent certainly didn't come without it's challenges. Sometimes it was being woken up at three in the morning to your boyfriend's ringtone, a devastating sound that meant he would need to leave for (more often than not) days at a time. Sometimes it was needing to cooperate with him having a certain secrecy he couldn't share due to procedure, secrets that you'd gotten into arguments about before. The most frustrating challenge of them all was his demanding schedule that took him from your arms for upwards of ten hours, at minimum, five days a week.

Despite it all, you couldn't imagine a more perfect man to love.

All of the roadblocks seemed worth it when you could roll over on a Saturday morning to the face of Spencer Reid sleeping. It made your heart full to see him without devastatingly dark bags beneath his beautifully hazel eyes, to see his light brown curls tousled and splayed out on a silk pillowcase, to see him instinctively reach out in his sleep whenever your body strayed too far away from his.

You liked to let him sleep in. Early on in your relationship, you began unplugging his alarm clock on the weekends so that he could catch up on sleep - he didn't appreciate that very much at first, not liking his extremely well-planned schedule interrupted, but he found out rather quickly how much he savored a lazy morning in the arms of someone he loves.

"Morning Spence," You whisper, laying on your side and bringing a hand to his cheek. Your thumb grazed over his stubble, the soft pricks reminding you that he's real beneath your touch. "Sleep okay?"

His eyes were still closed, but you knew he was awake. He smiled, leaning his head into your hand with a satisfied morning hum. "Mhm." He brought a hand to his eyes and rubbed the tiredness from them, blinking himself back to life. "You?" He asked in that sweet, raspy, tone he held.

"Like a baby." You replied, not letting your hand falter on his face. His eyes finally met yours in a shared loving gaze, one that made everything else in the world feel insignificant.

"You know," He began, eyebrows furrowing a bit, "I never understood why people say that. Babies are quite demanding, even in sleep. Most wake up frequently in the night until the three month mark."

You laughed. "I think people say that because babies don't have to worry about anything when they sleep. They don't have anything to wake up for, anything to lose sleep over... It's just peaceful." You answer. "And being able to sleep with you every night is extremely peaceful."

Spencer presses his lips together in a small, lopsided smile, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink that makes your heart flutter. "I'm glad. You deserve good sleep."

"How about you?" You ask, running your fingers over his cheeks again.

"You already asked that.” He smirked, deciding to elaborate anyways. “You were in my dreams," He began, his smile never fading. "We went to an aquarium. It was nice. So yes, I slept good."

You chuckled in response. "Your dreams make a lot more sense than mine."

He furrowed his brows. "Why? What'd you dream about?"

"I don't remember. All I know is that it was weird, and if I try to recall it and put it into words it'll only make less sense."

"Fair enough." He paused, staring at your face. Conversation halted momentarily, enjoying the comfortable silence shared between the two of you.

"What are you thinking about?" You inquired curiously, trying to study his face. His brows stayed scrunched, the same lopsided smile adorning his beautiful face.

"Just you," He answered honestly. "You're perfect."

"Far from it," You countered, "but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless."

He frowned. "Perfect is entirely subjective," He began, "and to me you're perfect. All of you. Perfect for me."

You stayed silent, letting the words process in your brain. One of the things that worried you from the moment you started dating Spencer was the amount of emotional turmoil that you dragged along with you, the frustrating moments of your past that interrupted even the most simple of tasks. To be called perfect was something you didn't generally hear. In fact, you weren't sure if you'd ever heard your name and 'perfect' in relation to each other.

When you didn't respond, he grew worried. "You alright?"

"Yeah," You quickly affirm. "I just... Don't hear that often."

He moved closer, closing the already short distance between your bodies. "I guess I'll need to keep reminding you, then." He grinned, pressing a kiss to your lips. When you parted, he lingered close to your face, two dorky smiles spreading on your faces.

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too."

You didn't mind the shared morning breath coming from your mouths, nor did you mind your pajamas twisted around your body or the bedhead you were scared to face when you looked in the mirror. Right now, you were consumed by Spencer. Anything else didn't matter.

He rolled onto his back and you followed his movements, your head now resting on his chest while your arm hugged his torso. He pressed his lips to your head, his mouth lingering on your hair before resting his cheek in its place. You smiled. Before you began dating, Spencer was never a touchy-feely person. In fact, any kind of physical contact would make him feel wildly uncomfortable; but you remember that turning point like it was yesterday. After a particularly draining day you came home desperately in need of nothing but a cuddle, and when he saw how content you felt in his arms, he never turned back. Since then he took every opportunity he could to hold you, wanting nothing more than to replicate that feeling over and over again. There was something incredibly intimate about being the only person to experience what it felt like to be held lovingly in his arms.

Mornings would always be a safe haven for you. It didn't matter how many times you got to do it, waking up next to the most loving boyfriend in the world, each time felt more and more ethereal than the last.

Spencer was your home, and you were his; and that would never change.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader comfort #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort

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little-pondhead · 2 years

Text

Fenton Family on Vacation (part 1)

Original Post⬅️

"You know, when you revealed yourself as Phantom, I thought it would be much harder to adjust." Madeline Fenton, ghost-hunting extraordinaire and mother of two, stared at the swirling green portal in her basement. Despite building the darn thing herself, with its glowing wires and simple design, Maddie felt like she was seeing the whole thing for the first time.

It was late afternoon on a Saturday. At least, Maddie assumed so. She hadn't stepped foot outside their lab for a while now. Too busy modifying all their ghost-hunting equipment. The blinking red numbers of the digital clock on their desk said it was almost six in the evening. Then again, it has been six in the evening for the past several months. The clock was very much broken, and no one had bothered to fix it.

It was summer, so the time spent in the Fenton lab drastically increased. And with the reveal of their son Danny, Maddie practically breathed ectoplasm with the amount of time she was spending in the basement. Danny said it was no big deal, but both Fenton parents were determined to re-evaluate their research and inventions completely. Basically, starting from scratch.

So imagine her surprise when, two days ago, both Jazz and Danny sat them down to propose a memorable family vacation.

And for some reason, she couldn't say no. Was it her guilt? They were prepared to shell out the money for any dream destination the kids proposed. But no, Danny had invited them to a different dimension via the Ghost Zone. This was tremendous progress, not just in her relationship with her kids but also for their new research. (Let's not mention the headache she got from learning parallel dimensions exist.)

Apparently, the kids had been planning this for a while because now everyone was packed and armed to the teeth, two days later. Jazz had taken care of the logistics-when to leave, how to get there, what to bring. Danny was the one to choose the location since he was the most familiar with the Ghost Zone. Maddie learned much later that he had just thrown a dart at a lineup of names on a corkboard.

"Are you sure it's okay for us to enter?" Maddie looked concerned.

"Yeah! It'll be fun, mom!" Danny reassured. "It's just a week off-I've always wanted to show you the cool parts of the Ghost Zone without the immediate threat of horrible death." Maddie gave her son the stink eye. He was grinning a bit too innocently for her liking.

"Well, I think it'll be a great bonding experience!" Jack announced, winking at Danny. Badly. "Someone was being a little paranoid about the mall trip yesterday; I hardly got a chance to spoil our new little princess."

Ah, yes, their new granddaughter. Danielle. Maddie had been furious to discover how horrible Vlad had been to her family. Attempting to murder her husband, trying to recruit Danny as a weird evil son/apprentice, outright disrespecting and dismissing Jazz's existence, and wanting to marry her?? "Furious" was putting it lightly. The man slept with a doll version of herself, for heaven's sake! And then Danny just offendedly mentions that Vlad had cloned him. Several times. Only one clone survived; a little girl with no identity of her own. And here was her son sheepishly asking if they might consider letting the clone stay? Even for a little? She was traveling around right now but didn't really have a place to call home-

Maddie and Jack immediately offered to adopt the girl into the family as their youngest.

(Jazz giggled. "Danny already beat you to it. They tried being cousins at first, but he acts like a total dad around her—the fastest case of ghost adoption that I've ever seen. Instead of a new child, Elle's more like a new grandchild.")

Danny blushed, hunching his shoulders in. "I don't know if Elle wants to be a grandkid-we haven't talked about it, really."

"YOU CAN BET YOUR SWEET BISCUITS I WANNA BE A GRANDKID."

The trio startled and turned, watching the last two of the Fenton family work their way down the stairs into the lab. Jazz was gripping her backpack in one hand and Elle's arm in the other, using her superhuman strength to keep Elle in line. Probably so Elle wouldn't run down the stairs and permanently kill herself. Jack quietly chuckled at the sight of Elle's ghost-themed backpack, so painstakingly picked out the day before. It was a tad too big and looked just adorable on her. A few tiny blob ghosts floating around her head whizzed in excitement, sometimes using the backpack as a place to hide. Maddie, personally, loved the pink light-up sneakers that Elle showed off as much as possible. Her husband had done well shopping by himself.

It was evident Elle was excited about the trip. Despite all her travels abroad, satisfying her wanderlust, she'd never been to another dimension. When they had reached the bottom, Elle phased out of Jazz's grip, bolting to collide with Jack in a hug. "Yesterday was loads of fun." She exclaimed. "I loved shopping around for new stuff. And if being Danny's kid means I get two new grandparents in the deal, then I'm taking it."

Danny made a face. "But isn't it weird to have a dad so close in age to you? What if people look at you weird?"

Jazz snorted at her brother's words, picking her way around the lab mess. "Danny, you'd be the one they would look at funny. A fifteen-year-old-"

"I'm almost sixteen!"

"A fifteen-year-old who has a physically thirteen-year-old daughter? People will be ready to call CPS."

"And besides!" Elle detangled herself from Jack's grip and stomped over to Maddie with a shit-eating grin as she looked at her dad. "Technically, I'm only a year old. You're not going to leave your poor, unstable clone daughter alone in the world to fend for herself, right?" Danny just grumbled. Something about not even being old enough to drive.

Maddie cooed a bit and enjoyed the hug from her new granddaughter. It was cold but in a good way. Elle's response was a low hum that vibrated through her body. It reminded Maddie of a cat's purr.

"I've been meaning to ask," Maddie said. Elle clung tighter as she adjusted her grip. "What is ghost adoption?? You mentioned that before when explaining your relationship with Elle."

Their son shuffled his feet a little. "Uh, it basically means my core has connected to hers in a parental way, I guess." He was obviously nervous. "When we first met, even before I knew Elle was a clone, my core recognized her as a "baby ghost," so to speak. There was enough of a connection that I kind of adopted her subconsciously."

"But it doesn't happen with between all ghosts." Jazz cut in. It felt like their eldest was giving them a lecture on this and that every week. "Frostbite explained it a while ago, something about similar cores and ambient ectoplasm. Kind of like pack bonding?"

Maddie nodded, barely following. "And Frostbite...you said we were visiting this person?"

Danny perked up, actually floating a few feet off the ground in excitement. "Frostbite is the best! He's the leader of the Far Frozen and looks like a giant yeti. He helped me figure a bunch of things out and makes the best cocoa."

"Well, I'm excited to meet him."

And they were. Going through the portal was an experience and a half. It wasn't the first time they'd done this, but it was still memorable. Danny and Elle had gone ghost and chased each other around the Specter Speeder while Jazz piloted, hunched over the steering wheel. The Ghost Zone was a wonderful mix of greens and purples; Jack lamented his lack of a camera.

("We don't want to give Technus something to use." Tucker explained. Danny's friends had come by to help them all pack properly. "The Fenton Cameras haven't been ghost-proofed all the way, and Technus is an insufferable b-uh, idiot when he manages to get his hands on new tech. I'll never hear the end of it.")

It was just so much colder than they expected. The "Far Frozen" certainly lived up to its name. So did Frostbite and his legendary cocoa. The giant yeti (did he count as a ghost??) also took the opportunity to give each Fenton a checkup (ghosts have doctors???) to make sure everyone was healthy enough for inter-dimensional travel. They were, and Frostbite even handed over a few extra vials of pure ectoplasm to tide the kids over in case they didn't land near a natural source in the new dimension. Jack and Maddie took a few vials each, one for each of their ghost kids, and Jazz just tucked hers away in her luggage with a little pat.

Then they were off sightseeing. Understandably, most of Danny's allies were a bit wary around the (mostly former) ghost hunters but did their best to hide it. Jack and Maddie got to meet Princess Dorathea, who could turn into a freaking dragon how cool was that, Jack-

There was Pandora, a towering woman with blue skin and four arms. She took a liking to Maddie and gifted her an engraved xiphos. "To match her fighting spirit." The woman explained. She did not tell anyone what the engraving meant. At some point, they saw a towering castle in the distance. It was hard to see, but the towers looked like spiraling ice. Jack asked about it.

"Oh, that's nothing special." Danny waved them off. "Don't worry about it. We DO need to worry about Walker's prison, so duck down for a bit. He doesn't like it when the living are in his territory." Maddie didn't bother pushing the subject, so they moved on.

Then there was Wulf, a werewolf who could make portals and was the kids' teacher on that subject. Jazz was especially excited, greeting Wulf with a bear hug. (Maddie vaguely remembered something about her daughter being a werewolf now, but she very rarely changed while in the living world. Maddie had almost forgotten.) Jack was pleasantly surprised to learn Wulf spoke Esperanto. In fact, that was the only thing he could speak. It turns out Esperanto was something Jack had learned during their college days. The two hit it off, and Jack had to be dragged away from whatever conversation they were having.

Time moved a bit sluggishly, but eventually, they got around to "the least annoying ones." Elle had a blast messing with someone named Fright Knight, who just kept calling her 'my lady' for some reason. Danny got a few potshots in when one of his rouges (was that a robot?) got too close to the Speeder. They met Ghost Writer, Amorpho, Lunch Lady, Nocturne, Technus, Ember, Cujo, and a few others. Their final stop was Clockwork's.

The flight there was exceptionally long. It felt like forever, yet the clock in the Speeder only moved forward five minutes. Jazz explained that this was Clockwork's influence. He was the Master of Time, and the closer they got to his lair, the weirder time was. Eventually, the Fenton family arrived. Clockwork's lair was, well, a clock tower.

("Really, I don't know what we expected, Maddie.")

It was dark and green, sitting on a tiny island they could barely land on. Ectoplasm was thick in the air; Maddie was sure that if she weren't already ecto-contaminated, it would have been increasingly difficult to breathe. Multiple ticking sounds filled the air as if the tower was filled with nothing but clocks. Maddie took a wild guess and thought it probably was. A glowing green sticky note drew their attention as they approached the door.

Danny scowled as he read the note. "Daniel, something has come up with the Observants. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't make the Watchtower your new haunt. A natural portal will open next to the Speeder. Enjoy your vacation, Clockwork. Drat, I was hoping he'd be home. I really wanted you to meet him."

Maddie pats his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm sure we'll find time later." Elle giggled at the pun.

"I know." He sighed. "It's just, he can be so cryptic. Why would I make a watchtower my new haunt? I've never even been to a real watchtower! But the note says a natural portal will spawn next to the Speeder so that we can wait for that."

"You mean this portal?"

Jazz was closely examining a small tear in reality that had popped into existence next to her foot. It was small and low to the ground. Small enough that the Specter Speeder definitely couldn't get through. Maddie doubted they'd be going in all at once.

Elle peered over her shoulder. "That's it! Come on, old man, I'll race you!" She dove in without waiting for a reply.

"DANIELLE MADELINE FENTON!" Danny immediately chased after, disappearing into a swirl of green.

"Oh yeah, she's definitely related." Jazz said. "Come on. I'll follow behind once you two go through." Maddie looked at Jack, and Jack looked at Maddie. Fine with them.

Jack went first, knuckles tight from gripping his bag straps, doing his best to suck in his gut before dropping out of existence. Maddie went next, standing on tiptoes and still having Jazz bend down to press a kiss to her cheek before she left. "Make sure to lock up the Speeder."

Jazz smiled, her eyes glowing with the barest hint of green. She had a hand on the Fenton thermos clipped to her belt and if Maddie squinted, she could see the barest outline of a crown on her head. "See you on the other side, mom."

Maddie stepped into the portal, feeling nothing but open air, and fell through.

---

Edit: OH GOD I FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT DETAIL ABOUT JAZZ I FIXED IT I AM SO SORRY

(the fix was kind of rushed but there is an extra line or two now that actually mentions it)

809 notes · View notes

vctrvn-ls · 11 months

Text

Saturday •| Niko | •

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summary: you persuade Niko to go clubbing, but things don’t turn out so great

warnings: language, slight angst, alcohol use, kissing(?)

word count: 2.5k

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"The club!?" Niko's eyebrows expressed all his current emotions.

"Yes!" You bounce next to him with an excited grin "It'll be so fun! I used to go all the time!"

"All the time?" He quoted.

"Yess, we'll go together, it's gonna be so fun. Trust!" You beam at poor Niko who's heart rate was through the roof just thinking about clubbing.

"And the cocktails at Fabric are so good! Better than Rosé in a bottle."

"First of all what do you have against Rosé in a bottle?" He referred to your classic Saturday nights, when the two of you would order takeout and have a bottle of Rosé while watching an old horror movie.

"And second of all, FABRIC!?" His voice went high pitched. "The most famous club in England!?"

"Well it's London, and secondly we're turning old! We're only in our early twenties and already spending our great Saturday nights sitting at home." You spoke your mind.

Niko sighs, looking away and not knowing what to add.

"Niko," you purr, leaning onto his shoulder, trying to get him to ease up and approve your desires.

He glanced down at you. He could tell you really wanted to go.

"Fine." He selflessly agrees, making you squeal in excitement and place a chaste kiss onto his lips. He watched you run up the stairs to get ready with hooded eyes, contemplating his decision and wondering how badly it would turn out for him.

"I don't even know what to wear." He walks into your room, eyes meeting your body that was dressed in a black slip.

You turn around, smiling while putting your hair up in a messy bun "Hey." You chirp sweetly.

"Wow, you look," he takes a sharp breathe in as his eyes wonder all over you "Breathtaking."

You giggle shyly and twirl in front of him

"It's cute right?"

"Yeah, it is." He takes ahold of your waist as you spin right into his arms. His slender fingers smoothly glided up and down the fabric on your back, he leaned down to kiss you, hands traveling lower and lower.

"Niko." You say sternly as you break the kiss, feeling him on the small of your back.

He chuckles "Sorry, really can't resist."

You place another kiss on his lips before walking over to the mirror and continuing to fiddle with your hair.

He watched you with a dreamy expression, drowning in your charm, for a second even forgetting about how much he didn't want to go out, tired from the long week and endless days of shooting, but he didn't want to ruin your thrill by seeming boring or, as you mentioned earlier, old.

"A-are you going out like that?" Niko suddenly says in a rather surprised tone, noticing how thin the dress was.

You turn around "Yeah." You shrug "I mean it's Uber there and Uber back. It's warm outside."

You say with such simplicity that it worries Niko.

You slam the door as the car drives away right behind you.

"Kinda chilly." You comment as Niko walks up to you. He settled on a black turtleneck and had his blazer in his hand just in case. He looked so leng that you had to fight your want to get your hands all over him before leaving the house.

You take his arm and lead him to the entrance of the club that looked suspiciously empty.

A man dressed in a dark blue suit stopped you with his palm out "Sorry guys I just sent everyone away-"

You swiftly pull out your phone, showing him a QR code to which he replied with a "Welcome."

As you step inside the leading hallway, you could feel Niko's perplexed eyes on you.

You look up and raise a brow.

"What-Where did that come from?"

You smile proudly "Perks of being an ex-party machine."

"Party machine? When di-"

But his words were instantly cut off by deafening music as you opened the heavy metal door.

You felt a rush of adrenaline course through you as the loud melody boomed through the atmosphere, bass vibrating the floor. Purple and blue lights shimmered and shone all over the walls, crowd and ceiling. Your mouth fell open into a smile as you saw people dancing and energetically jumping up and down, drunk and carefree. Everything felt so nostalgically familiar that you even forgot that you hadn’t been to a place like this in almost a year.

Niko on the other hand was wincing from the wordless noise, he couldn't even think of it as music. People pushed him from left and right as he tried to catch up to you in a hurry.

He shielded his eyes from the annoyingly bright lights that kept coming from every direction, blurring his vision.

"Two Manhattans please!" You yell to the bartender, leaning on the counter and smiling.

He winked at you and nodded, knowing from experience that there was no point in shouting over the music.

"Two what?!" Niko's voice rung through your ear and you turned around.

"Manhattans?" You repeat.

"Isn't that a place?" Niko quizzed, to which you just laugh and turn back to the bar, leaving him in genuine confusion.

Where did this side of you even come from? He didn't know you even partied, let alone knew names of drinks he had never heard of in his life!

You turn around to him and hold up a glass.

Niko observed it, he had never held one of these in his hand before, it was like a usual glass but squished to the top, making it look funny.

'Very Wolf of Wall street' he thought as he saw red liquid with a single cherry floating inside.

"Wha-" Niko was about to ask you what was in it, but he paused in shock as he witnessed you finish your drink in one gulp.

You stick out your tongue and cough from the bitter taste of alcohol, before opening your eyes and turning back to the bar table to ask for another one.

Niko's eyes are as wide as plates at this point, watching you innocently look up at him, like that didn't just happen.

"Try it!" You shout to him with a wide grin on your face.

His looked at the drink in his hand.

"Cmon!" You urged him.

He brought the glass up to his lips and took the tiniest sip, eyes instantly screwing shut as he tasted the insanely strong whiskey that stung his mouth.

How did you just wash that down in an instant!?

You laugh at his cute reaction while taking your second glass from the counter.

"How is it?" You tiptoe so you wouldn't have to shout as loudly, but that didn't help the slightest, instead you felt the alcohol wash over your head, which made you lose your balance and slightly tip to the side.

"Aye!" Niko catches you with one arm, propping you up by the waist.

You laugh at your own clumsiness and begin to drink again.

"Hey maybe it's better-" Before he could finish you were already done, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Jesus." Niko mumbled as he watched you give away the empty glass back to the bartender.

"You done?" You ask, glancing at his drink.

He shakes his head, not really wanting it anymore.

"Cmon!" You gently push the glass up to his face so he would drink it.

Niko furrows his eyebrows and tightens his lips, shaking his head.

"Nikooo!" You whine, evidently disappointed, which was the last thing he wanted, so he hurried to finish at least half of it, forcing it down.

"Disgusting." He spits, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his turtleneck and putting the glass on the counter.

You smile with your teeth, grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor, right into the crowd.

The music was so loud that Niko couldn't even recognize the song, while you jumped up and down in unison with the rest of the people around you. As you swayed your hands around you felt yourself bump into something, or rather someone, with your butt.

You turned around seeing an unfamiliar man instead of Niko standing behind you.

"Sorry!" You shouted with a friendly smile on your face.

"It's ok!" He smiled in response, his pearly white teeth glowing under the blue lights. "What's yo-"

But before you could hear the rest of the sentence you felt yourself being pulled away by your shoulders. Your head was spinning like crazy and when you finally opened your eyes you met Niko's displeased face staring at you from above.

You smile lightheartedly and take his hands to make him join your wave of fun, but he stiffens under your touch.

You're confused in your gone state, wondering what was stopping him from having as much fun as you were currently having.

You bring your hands up to his neck and pull him down for a kiss, sure that that'd ease him up. You move your mouth in a messy and, obviously, drunk manner, kissing him like you were touch starved your whole life. With the help of alcohol your feelings enhanced like crazy, lust overtaking as the kiss got hotter.

On the other side, Niko was bewildered by the state you were in. Your hot palms held onto the back of his neck, forbidding him to pull away.

You finally felt his hands on your shoulders and shuddered from the contact on your bare skin, thinking that your idea had worked and Niko finally lightened up. But those thoughts were quickly brushed away as you felt a forceful push. You stumbled backwards, struggling to hold balance, eyes opening in confusion.

"Let's go." Niko pronounces as he pulls on his blazer with an irritated expression painted on his face.

"What?" You laugh shaking your head in perplexity. But Niko wasn't laughing.

He wanted out. Now.

He grabbed ahold of your arm and pulled you after him, pushing past all the people.

You clutched onto his wrist as his grip tightened.

"Ow." You whined with a frown as you finally got outside into the empty and dimly lit street.

"What the fuck?!" You exclaim, rubbing the area, more hurt emotionally than physically, feeling the drunk-anger rise inside you.

Your look shot up at Niko, who’s eyes were darting around the street. But you didn't notice his concern, you were on the verge of being completely wasted and your desire to party was through the roof.

"Niko!" You shout angrily.

"What?" He turns to you.

You spread your arms out "What the hell was that?"

He took a pause before replying "It was time to go."

You raised your eyebrows and laughed dryly "We just got there."

"It was too loud." He pulled out his phone to check the time, clearly lying about his reason.

1am

"Oh my god." You roll your eyes "Are you that lazy? How boring do you have to be to leave as soon as it's 'too loud'?" You scoffed. You didn't mean any of it, you were intoxicated and the alcohol was talking for you, you couldn't control your boosted emotions, struggling to notice Niko's genuinely upset state.

"Hey I-"

"Why'd you always have to ruin everything." You narrow your eyes at him and tilt your head, leaving him stunned by your words.

"Why are you acting like this?" He asked softly, trying his best to not cause a scene.

"Me!?" You exclaim, enraged by how he accused you in response to your own question "You're the one who got me all excited by the fact that we were finally going out. Only to come here and leave in a fucking hour!"

Even though you were drunk, you still had a pretty good grasp on reality and you knew your words were coming off as hurtful and nasty, you just thought that Niko's actions were aimed at you. You though he didn't want you to have fun because you were enjoying yourself too much and he didn't like the way you were too active, especially after his surprised reaction to finding out about how you used to always go out.

"Why can't we just do something interesting for once!?" You huff and look up at him with fury sparkling in your eyes.

Niko scratched the back of his head and sighed, looking away "I just-" he began mumbling his response, but he was speaking too slow for your juiced brain.

"You what? What, Niko?"

"I was uncomfortable!" He raised his voice.

Your eyebrows dropped from the unexpected statement.

Niko? Uncomfortable?

He brought his hands up to his face as he let out a heavy sigh.

"You're drunk, I'm worried, then we also got all the other guys who want to get close to you." He referred to your previous encounter with the man at the dance floor.

"It's loud and everyone's either stoned or drunk. I don't care if you're mad at me. I'd rather you be mad, than me letting you go back in and risking whatever." He motions at the club entrance, with the guard awkwardly still standing there, watching both of you from afar, thankfully not hearing your conversation.

Realization hits you like a bus. You did over do it, you had gotten way too carried away. That realization was enough to make you sober up a little and walk over to Niko, hugging him tightly.

He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Niko." You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek against his torso as his arms wrapped around your back, indicating that he wasn't mad.

"I didn't mean it." You squeezed him.

He nods to himself "I know you didn't." He replies softly. It was almost scary how easy it was to apologize to him, he never held grudges let alone reject an apology.

"You wanna get pizza?" You say suggestively, as you glance up at him with big guilty eyes.

"At 1am?"

You smile "Everyone knows that next to every night club there is a 24 hour restaurant."

"Clearly I'm not everyone."

"Come." You take his hand and lead him, not able to properly walk in a straight line making, Niko chuckle.

“Oh, not bad.” Niko nodded, chewing and looking at the pizza slice that was in his hand.

“Right?” You agree with your mouth full.

The pair of you were sitting outside a small pizza place, eating and enjoying the night atmosphere. It was quiet and the street lamps lit up the roads in warm tones. You sat in Niko’s blazer, practically sinking in its size, every time you moved you’d catch the smell of his cologne, powdery and not too strong.

You talked and talked, about everything, enjoying each others company.

“You know what?” You say, straightening your back and smiling.

“What?”

“We should eat out on Saturdays. That way it won’t be boring and not too crazy.”

Niko nods with a grin “Yeah.” He shrugs “Sounds good.”

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requests r open <3

#beta squad #niko omilana #fanfic #ndl #nikoomilanafanfic #niko x you #niko x reader #niko omilana edit #youtube #chunkz #aj shabeel #king kenny #sharky

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mrs-kodzuken · 5 months

Text

Fated Beginnings ♡

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x fem!reader

WC: 4.1k

Genre: fluff

CW: fem!reader, teeth rotting fluff, date set up by Kuroo, slight introverted!reader, slight cursing

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"Kuroo, I don't feel comfortable doing this," I mumbled looking back down at the current book I was reading.

"Come on, (Y/n). It'll be fun!"

I sighed placed my bookmark on page 146, and closed it. I didn't have the time or guts to do this.

"Kuroo, you said that last time and last time I got clumsy and fell, multiple times if I may add." I coldly told him, looking up.

We were in the library at school, he knows this is how I spend my lunch. And yet still continues to bother me endlessly.

"I promise this one will be different, I know Kenma better than the other dude." He pleaded at me. He has been trying to set me up with people for God knows what reason.

I sighed once again and lightly put a lock of my hair behind my ear knowing I've picked the habit up from reading too much.

"Fine Kuroo, but if this one goes wrong, I will not speak to you for a week and you cannot set me up with another person," I spoke firmly at him, making my point known.

His eyes lit up at me and squashed me into a bone-crushing hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He shouted, very loudly, after letting me go.

"Calm down or else you're going to get us kicked out of here."

Kuroo and I have been friends since day one, literally. Well, not literally maybe about a year apart. However, I didn't exactly like how much of an extrovert he can be.

We grew up together and in most situations I'd stay inside, much to his dismay. So, I've never been a fan of being outdoors especially when it's a sunny day. I'd even go to the length and say I hate sunny days.

"Why are you like this.." I grumble quietly and pick my bag up from the library's carpet floor.

"Alright, so I've been planning this for a while. Hence, why I chose Saturday for the date because it's going to rain. You and Kenma are going to be staying at your place. I've been waiting for my best friends to meet for so long." The excitement but mischief in his voice concerns me just a bit.

I rolled my eyes and headed out of the library, seeing as I had to get back to class.

Even if Kuroo is a 3rd year, we still hang out together. Correction, he still pesters me to hang out with him.

I could have used all that time for catching up on books and sometimes on special occasions, diving into some fanfiction.

"I'll see you later (Y/n)." He sent me a sly wink and headed the other way.

Heading to class I took my seat, which was far from the front. I was glad about the seating arrangement, it could allow me to read while the teacher couldn't see me.

My desk mate, whose name I'm not even sure about, came and did his routine.

He also took advantage of being in the back but he used it on video games. I'm not sure why, but I guess we have different hobbies.

To be honest, I didn't even know his name. He was so quiet, two toned hair covering his eyes and gave about half of the time.

However, then again so am I.

Occasionally, I'd look up at the board to see if there was anything I needed to write down or listen to. As always, it was pure nothingness.

When the last bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. As I walked through the halls I continued my book because no bell is going to keep me from figuring out the murder mystery in this book.

I haven't ever stayed after school to watch Kuroo practice volleyball. I didn't see a point in it, I mean, I know he's good at it. He leads his team to nationals.

I passed and heard the squeaking sounds of their shoes and some harsh noises of balls being spiked.

"Kenma! Set me another one!" I heard a familiar voice speak up loud.

However, it wasn't the voice that attracted my attention, it was the name.

Kenma?

"No, that's your fifth one." I heard an annoyed voice speak from the gym.

I had the urge to go take a peek but then stopped myself.

Why should I? I have better things to be doing, like tidying up my room a bit and catching up on my weekend book.

Switching books occasionally wasn't a problem because my parents would always buy me more. I could even use my library card to go get more if needed be.

This meant that I had a huge bookcase filled with my favorite books in my room.

After securing my book mark, I glared up at the sunny sky. It pissed me off. I don't understand how someone could like sunny days over rainy ones.

After getting my house key from my pocket I unlocked my door. My parents did business work at the same office but would always get off late at night.

With that being said, I set my school bag down and grabbed my pink cleaning apron to start the process. I did a bit more than what I usually do, mopping the floors and dusting high places isn't a good match with someone like me.

When I got finished, I headed downstairs after tying my (h/c) hair up into a low bun and tied my cooking apron on me.

Just because my parents are gone doesn't mean that I can order pizza every night. And quite frankly, it gets boring.

I got started on an easy dinner, seeing as I wanted to get it over with. I felt like baked spaghetti was the easiest it was going to get considering I wanted a fulfilling meal.

After eating, a thought snuck into my head. I have to waste a perfectly rainy day on someone who probably wants to go out or something.

Why not just stay in the comfort of your bed and slob around in snacks and books? This is exactly why if there was a male version of me, I'd marry him immediately.

After cleaning the dishes I headed upstairs and started on my night routine. I grabbed an oversized grey shirt which said 'Do I care?' and some black shorts.

Knowing myself, that'd also be the outfit I'd wear when this 'Kenma' comes over tomorrow. I wasn't actively looking for a boyfriend so there's no reason to impress him.

Now that I thought about it, there wasn't anything weird I heard about Kenma from anyone.

I mean, I guess he got some love confessions from girls but he didn't waste his time on it.

I couldn't blame him, why waste your time on falling in love, which only ends in heartbreak by the way, when you can fall in love with fictional characters who'd never break your heart?

With those thoughts running through my mind, I set my book on my nightstand and turned off my lamp.

Now it's time for fanfiction, a small but devilish smile made its way onto my face as I opened Wattpad.

I'd always loved reading these, especially when they were about my favorite fictional character. I die inside a bit every day when I remember they aren't real.

Little did I know, I had stayed up a tad bit too late and before I knew it, it was 7:03 am.

I mentally cursed myself for doing this yet again. My eye lids were heavy and needed sleep however it was like some kind of drug to read fanfics.

I furrowed my brows and sat up hastily, shouldn't my parents have come in?

Pushing back my white covers with small pink roses on them, I grabbed a large red hoodie to go over my sweatshirt and some fuzzy socks. I headed to their room, surprisingly, it was empty.

I started getting worried and wondered if they had gotten in a crash or decided not to deal with me anymore. My parents weren't neglectful or anything but the anxiety didn't stop.

Those thoughts were the usual ones I'd always get whenever they did not come home.

I rushed to my phone and checked my messages, I didn't like getting notifications so I always turned on my reading focus mode.

Messages from my mom and dad came up on my notification screen. They stated that they had an emergency business trip to take.

I texted them back and sighed, they always do this.

I'm never mad or anything, I just wish we could have quality family time. But at the same time, I'm glad all the 'what-if's' were gone from my head.

I headed downstairs to put the kettle on, I wanted to make a cup of vanilla tea, my favorite. I smiled and peeked outside to see the rain coming down a bit harshly.

One of the reasons I love having a tin roof is that you can hear the sounds clearer. It was the most beautiful sound I loved hearing.

Just when I was just about to sip my tea, the doorbell rang.

Confusion rang across my face. I don't think I was expecting anyone this early.

Racking my brain for an answer, I opened it expecting Kuroo because he's just always there.

Running a hand through my hair, "Kuroo, it's Saturday, go home." I looked up to see not Kuroo, but my deskmate.

I stiffened, embarrassed. I immediately looked at my fuzzy socks and quietly spoke, "Oh, uh, you must be K-Kenma." I stumbled, my eyes widened a bit. I never stumble over my words.

He nodded and looked all over my flushed cheeks and lazy outfit.

Like the dumbass I am, I finally realized that it was still raining and he was bound to get soaked by the gutters if I didn't let him in.

I motioned for him to come and he mumbled a quiet, "Thank you."

I watched him like a hawk as he took off his shoes, setting them neatly beside one another. I awkwardly headed back to the kitchen for my tea then went up the stairs with him following me. I mean where else is he gonna go?

Wait, would he think I'd want something from him by immediately inviting him into my room? I shoved the weird thought from my mind and focused on where he was.

I sat on my unmade bed and grabbed my book from my nightstand. I clicked on the lamp, which was a beautiful, white flower lily.

"Uh, make yourself a home?" I questionably said, I never have been in a situation like this before.

I crossed my legs and opened my book as he sat on the edge of my bed which was weird. I had a white Ikea desk with a swirly chair, a reading nook in the corner, and a window seat. And yet, he sat on the edge of my bed.

After reading for a few minutes, I couldn't focus into my book. I mean, there's a strange sitting across from me. I looked up and he was playing on a switch.

That went on for hours.

Kenma had moved onto my bed more, sitting against the wall. His legs were crisscrossed and he was still playing his game.

I had leaned off the edge of my bed where half of my body was dangling off of it. I was hanging upside down and reading my book.

Kenma and I had settled into a comfortable silence and acknowledgment of each other. We hadn't touched but occasionally our eyes would meet when he lost a round or I discovered something juicy from my book.

The rain hadn't stopped which I was grateful for. I could feel the hunger rumbling in my stomach and I telling by his facial expression, Kenma was getting hungry too.

I sat up, earning the look of Kenma's curious eyes on me. I walked out of my room with the feeling of something that can only be described as nervousness in my belly.

I grabbed snacks from the kitchen, I wasn't sure how he felt about 'healthier' type snacks but it was all I had due to my distaste for 'junk' food. I returned with the snacks and two bottles of water and two bottles of sugar free snapple.

Setting it all down on my bed, I took a few swings of my water while eating alongside him.

We resumed what we were doing after about fifteen minutes of silent eating

I guess Kenma had gotten comfortable with me because after eating he had set my legs in his lap. Well of course, asked me with his eyes, which honestly surprised me. He still had his eyes glued to the screen of his Nintendo switch.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang which made me jump. I had just gotten over the feeling of surprise from my legs in his lap and got to a good reading spot.

I sluggishly got up irritated at who would be at my door for the second time today. When opening it, I was faced with a bed-headed cat and his usual cheeky smirk.

"What do you want Kuroo?" I asked quietly, afraid he would disturb my peace and quiet like he usually does. He waltzed right in, ignoring my question.

"Oya, so how are you two love birds doing? Hitting it off well?" He loudly spoke, which made me wince.

Kuroo headed up to my room with me, of course, trailing along. We found Kenma sitting how I left him, he was there snacking on my veggie chips.

"We're not lovebirds Kuroo." Kenma spoke up as my ears perked up from hearing his voice.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated my question and got myself comfortable with Kenma again.

He stared at us, his eyes following back and forth before trailing at my legs on Kenma's lap.

"Definitely lovebirds. Friends don't just lay the way you two are." His mischievous grin was irritating.

I gave him a 'you're a dumbass' look and glanced at Kenma.

"No kuroo, we aren't dating. Even if we were, I don't think we'd tell you," I said calmly picking my book up. I wasn't going to waste my precious time on a dumbass like him.

I saw Kenma nod, out the corner of my eye, he agreed with me.

"And what exactly have you and Kenma been doing?" One eye brown perched up on his ridiculous face, funny enough, the only eye brow we could see from his haircut.

"We've been lying here," Kenma answered for me and this time it was my turn to nod.

"So you're telling me, I set you two up and all you've been doing is playing games and reading.." Kuroo stood there dumbfounded.

"No, not exactly, we did eat some." I gestured over to the pile of half eaten snacks set in the middle of my bed.

"You two are hopeless...and made for each other." His voice trailed off as he left my room.

I perked an ear, trying to listen and see if he was gonna leave my house, and he did.

I snickered, returning to my book, I admit that my eyes needed new attention and that Kenma with his two toned hair was thinking the same thing.

"What do you want to do?" I hesitantly asked Kenma as he set his game down and me with my book.

"Can we make something?"

"Uh sure, I think my mom bought some ingredients for cupcakes last week. Is that alright?" I asked getting up and marking my book while setting it on my nightstand.

He nodded and we headed downstairs with Kenma in front of me now. I never really noticed it since we've mostly been sitting down but he's taller than me.

A strange thought came to mind as I was thinking of our conversation.

'A child.'

My eyes widened and my heart rate sped up. I cursed at myself for ever thinking that. What the hell? I've just known the guy for a couple of hours and I'm already thinking of a child? I've been reading too much lately.

I breathed out a sigh and tied my apron back once we were in the kitchen. I held out an extra apron for Kenma and he gladly took it.

"Three eggs please," I said reading the instructions from the cupcake box I grabbed from the cabinet. I decided to reach up and grab the flour from there while I was at it.

Once he found the eggs in the fridge, he broke the eggs into a glass bowl, making sure not to get any eggshells in the mixture.

'He can break my back.'

What the fuck (y/n)? Where are all these thoughts coming from?

Probably from the lack of sleep your dumbass got.

That's great. Now I'm talking to myself and responding.

I suddenly got nervous while pouring some flour in and accidentally got it on Kenma's chest. I fucking need sleep, how in the hell?

"Oh god, I'm so sorry." I nervously spoke trying to get it off. He raised a brow, took some flower and plopped it on my head.

I paused, just staring at him with my jaw dropped.

Holding eye contact, I grabbed up a handful of flour and threw it on his hair too. I cracked a smile as he shook his head and the flour flew out like snow.

Soon, we were throwing tons of flour on each other, the kitchen had become a war zone. Mind and his laughs were bouncing off the walls in the kitchen.

I squealed as he shoved some down the back of my hoodie.

"Kenma!" I threw my head back in laughter as I chased him around my kitchen, I wanted to put some down his pants.

"You're never going to get me!" He smiled at me. I felt my heart almost stop, he looked.. cute. Which was completely new for me.

I could feel my cheeks start to flush until an idea sparked in my head. I grabbed an egg from the carton and threw it at him.

This time it was his turn to stare at me with his jaw dropped. Just like the flour war, next came the eggs, then cocoa, and cupcake mixture.

At this point, we were the cupcakes just unbaked.

"Payback, (y/n)." Kenma whispered in my ear, making me shiver, or maybe it was the cold water that was just dumped on my head.

I gasped loudly, flailing my arms every which way. Kenma stood by me laughing, with his arms holding his stomach. What a lovely sound, it was pure happiness.

I smirked and shook my long hair next to him, the ingredients getting on him. Finally, it came to an end when we got tired of throwing ingredients at each other.

I went to the pantry to grab two hand towels that I didn't care to use to clean us up.

"What in the hell.." I looked up after cleaning my face with a towel. I saw Kuroo standing in the doorway, confusion drawn on his face like no other.

"What the hell did you two do?" He asked astonished at us and the messed up kitchen. I mean, it was a sight to see. I haven't had this much engaging fun in forever.

I started giggling at the mess and Kenma looked at me and started laughing alongside me.

"I leave and you two are sitting on your bed, all quiet and calm. But when I come back you two are making the biggest mess in all of history," He exclaims his eyes bolting around the room and his movements a little frantic.

"Kenma, can you help me clean up please?" I asked nicely and headed over to get the dishwater started.

"Yes ma'am," he said and smirked, bringing his hand up and sprinkling sugar above my head.

I sniffed by accident then sneezed when there was a molecule of sugar in my nose. I looked up at him afterwards and what looked like blush was coating his cheeks.

Smiling innocently, I took the dish hose and sprayed him lightly.

I earned a gasp and high-pitched but slightly drawn out, "(Y/n)." from him.

Before he could say anything else Kuroo's loud voice came over us.

"So you two are dating? Hitting it off well, oya?" He asked with a smirk that only seemed to hint at other things.

I glanced up at Kenma and he looked down at me.

It seemed as if they both silently agreed to ignore him. In our midst of cleaning, a grumbling Kuroo finally decided to help. The only things in the kitchen un cleaned were Kenma and I.

"Do you want to stay over and shower or..?" I waited for an answer while taking off my large hoodie, revealing my larger shirt underneath.

My hair was filled with gross food, well, technically cupcake ingredients.

"I guess I could stay over. I'll text my mo-"

"I'm staying over too." Kuroo announced without even asking.

I looked back at Kuroo to see if he has lost his damn mind.

"The hell? Just do whatever you want I guess." I rolled my eyes at him.

I was honestly surprised by my acts today, I'm not usually an outgoing person and yet I liked how today went. But I can also tell that Kenma isn't either.

"I'll go to my parents' shower, you two take a shower together or separately, I don't care." I smiled and gathered my things after giving Kenma my brother's clothes. He was in college so I doubt that he'd mind.

After I was done, I seriously thought that they had taken a shower together but it turns out they just took short ones. Who knows? I was in the shower trying to get egg out of my hair. I couldn't have had hot water either, it would've cooked them.

Instead of making an actual dinner meal like yesterday, I decided to order pizza just so Kuroo could shut up about it.

"You know Kuroo, I'm picking up actions that Bokuto would use. Not a good sign," I said and turned on a movie in my room.

"Hey! That's mean- oh." He realized, I guess he must've been spending much more time with him. Not a problem in my book though.

I was eager to sleep since I hadn't got any last night. Kenma and Kuroo slept on the air mattress we had blown up in the middle of my floor.

I dived underneath my covers, not even having time to adjust before I fell into a deep slumber.

I woke up from a gentle poke to my shoulder. I peeked up one eye and saw Kenma hovering over me. Groaning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes for better sight.

"Kenma? What's wrong?" I eyed my clock, it was one in the morning.

"Kuroo took over the air mattress. I'm gonna sleep with you." He softly spoke and lightly scooted me over to the wall.

"Uh, okay I guess?" I whispered, not sounding so sure but was too full of sleep to really think about it.

I closed my eyes and waited for Kenma to stop moving so I could sleep.

"(Y/n)? About what Kuroo said, if we were to date we wouldn't tell him right?" His voice talked into the darkness.

This meant that I couldn't really see his face, I could only guess what he was hinting at.

"Oh..yeah.." I answered, sobering up from sleep.

"Well, can we do the-uh, dating e-eachother." He stumbled over his words which made me smile a bit.

My face was burning underneath the covers that he could easily steal away from me.

"I think I'd like that very much, Kenma." I smiled, not stumbling over my words.

I felt an arm pull me closer to his chest and kiss my cheek. My heart beat like a drum inside my chest as I tried to find my slumber again. The weight of his arm around my waist. The kiss on my cheek. The warmth of-

"Goodnight, (Y/n)." Kenma's voice rang out, soothing my thoughts.

I smiled softly and closed my eyes. I guess this kind of love wasn't a waste of time after all.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: this is from my “Haikyuu x Reader Oneshots” on Wattpad! I hope you enjoyed and let me know if you want more!

the header is from lena!! on Pinterest

#haikyuu fluff #hq kenma #hq imagines #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #hq fluff #nekoma #kuroo tetsurou #best friends #kozume kenma #kenma kozume #kenma x y/n #haikyuu kenma #kenma x you

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 11 months

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How do you feel about pretty woman au with Nanami hehehe

Idk if this is the same person but since I've gotten TWO asks about it, I might as well write a Pretty Woman AU for Nanami 💕

CW: sex worker reader, fem reader, implied smut, kind of a slow burn

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So, I imagine it going like this: Nanami has this big event to go to for work and his coworker, Gojo, has been bugging him to get a date, and his parents have been on his ass for months about dating and finding a wife, and quite frankly Nanami is sick of it all.

What's his solution? Hire a sexworker for the week so he can go this dumb party to get Gojo off his back and go to dinner with his parents to get them off his back. Hopefully if they see you two together and he claims you're his girlfriend, they'll stop pestering him and meddling with his personal life. Killing two birds with one stone.

So, he hires you from an escort website. You're high end, "classy", pretty and negotiable, the perfect person to play the part of his girlfriend.

You two have lunch to settle the details a week beforehand. You agree to his terms—pretend to be his girlfriend for a few events, convince his family and coworkers that you've been dating for months—but you have some terms of your own.

"Sex has to be with a condom only," you say as you chew, already browsing the dessert menu. "No kissing, no sentimentality. Sex is sex, nothing more. I don't want you falling in love with me."

"I didn't plan on having sex with you," he replies, wiping his mouth with his cloth napkin. "I also don't plan on falling in love with you."

You scoff. "They all say that."

You're a bit crude at times, but otherwise you're a perfect fit. You agree to each other's terms. He sends you a large pdf file with important details about himself, details about "you", and details about your "relationship".

"Memorize this by next Friday. We'll be going to a party for my company, and then we'll have lunch on Saturday with my parents. They'll be in town for a week, so we'll be spending a day or two with them."

You hum, swallowing the chocolate mousse off your spoon. "You know, I expect to be paid by the hour..."

"I'll give you $50,000 for the whole week."

You almost choked on your dessert. You recovered quickly, covering your mouth, clearing your throat.

"Y-Yes... that..." You cleared your throat again, sitting up straight. "That seems agreeable."

He huffs, taking out his wallet, handing you a credit card.

"You'll need some proper clothes for these events. Don't worry about the cost; I won't take it out of your paycheck."

You take the card, eyeing the metallic rectangle.

"How do you not have a girlfriend?" He shrugs, picking up his wine glass.

"I don't have time for relationships."

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"You clean up nice," he remarks as he meets you in the lobby of his apartment building. You smile, giving a twirl.

"Don't ask me how much it was."

"Wasn't planning on it." He holds out his arm for you and you grab it, walking out of the building together. You reach his car, and you're off into the night.

"You left your bags at the front desk, correct?"

"Yep," you reply, popping the 'P' at the end of the word. "I had to buy another suitcase to bring everything."

"That's fine," he replies. "The guest room is ready for you. We'll have to share a bathroom, but the guest room is all yours for the week."

You hum slyly, tiptoeing your fingers along his thigh.

"You sure you don't want to share a bed with me?"

He sighs, taking your hand, linking your fingers together.

"I told you. I'm not looking for sex."

"Mmm, alrighty then," you say, leaning back in your seat. "I'm just trying to make this realistic."

"It'll be fine if you memorized everything I sent you—"

"I did, I did." You squeeze his hand, causing him to glance at you. "Don't worry. It'll be fine. I won't mess up."

He nods, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. The small action makes you shiver slightly, but he doesn't seem to notice.

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"Huh?! A girlfriend? When did this happen?" Gojo exclaims, almost dropping his champagne. You laugh girlishly, wrapping yourself around Nanami's arm.

"We've been together for almost six months now. Isn't that right, honey?"

"Yes, dear," Nanami replies calmly, sipping his wine. "Six months on the 21st."

"Oh, you're so much better at dates than I am! This is why I like you." His lips twitch into a smile as Gojo scoffs.

"Damn, Nanami. Who knew you were keeping such a cutie all to yourself this whole time? You should've brought her to the New Year's party! You would've had a blast."

"I don't—"

"Oh, shit, hold that thought: the president's coming over." Gojo takes your free hand, kisses it swiftly. "Nice to meet you, lovely. Call me when you dump this sack of wet laundry."

"Hey—"

"Okay, bye!" he replies quickly, rushing off to another part of the room so he could avoid the president. Nanami sighed, watching his colleague run away, shaking his head.

"For the record," you start, putting your empty glass on a waiter's nearby tray, "I don't think you're a sack of wet laundry."

"That's kind of you, but it's alright. Most of my coworkers think I'm boring."

"You're not boring," you reply, facing him. "Serious, definitely serious, but not boring."

"How sweet of you to say." He finds himself smiling when you laugh genuinely. He looks you over once again, one of many times that night. "That dress suits you."

"Why thank you! I got some help from the girl who was working. She said it would 'accentuate my curves'."

Nanami hums softly. "It does."

You feel your cheeks warm and you clear your throat, adjusting his tie.

"I've got an even cuter dress for tomorrow. It's pink with flowers and a pretty ribbon around the waist." Nanami lets you fiddle with his tie for a bit, smiling softly at your nervous behavior.

"I'm sure you'll look stunning."

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"Oh, she's a doll, Kento, just a doll!" his mother exclaimed, patting your hand and smiling at you. "I can't believe you kept her from us to long!"

"I wanted to make sure she was worth meeting," Nanami replied, lacing his fingers with yours, smiling at you when you smiled at him.

"But still, she's such an angel. Oh, I wish we could've met you sooner, sweetie. Don't you think so too, dear?" Her husband nodded, focused on cutting into his steak.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you," you said to Nanami's mother. "Ken has told me so much about you. I heard you were the inspiration for his love of cooking!"

"Aw, Kenny, you flatter me, dear," she cooed towards her son. "Oh, but I can't take all the credit. Kento has loved food ever since he was small. I remember him staring in awe at the TV whenever Gordon Ramsey was on—"

"Mother—"

"Oh, don't be shy about it, pumpkin! He was so cute when he was little, eyes glued to the TV when Kitchen Nightmares came on. Oh, don't get me started on all the different cooking shows he would watch—"

"Mom!"

You laughed at their exchange, covering your face when you snorted, making the rest of the table laugh as well. Nanami didn't think you'd have such a cute laugh—there was quite a bit about you that he found himself enjoying within the last two days.

"Oh, jeez... Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies' room," you spoke after a moment, getting up and gingerly leaving the table. Nanami watched you leave, staring at your hips sway back and forth.

"She's a real catch," his mother spoke up, eyeing him. He cleared his throat, nodding and grabbing his drink.

"Yeah. She's great."

"Are you going to propose?"

He chokes on his drink, struggling to clear his throat. "W-We've only been together for half a year."

"Your father proposed to me after half a year." Nanami rolled his eyes, glancing at the restrooms, hoping you'd return quickly.

"That was a different time, Mom. People don't get together that quickly anymore."

She clicked her tongue. "You shouldn't judge a relationship based on how long it is, Kento. Some of the best relationships are the shortest."

He pondered over her words, watching you stop at a table, vaguely hearing you compliment a woman's dress. He stared at you, feeling his mouth go dry.

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"So we're having dinner on Wednesday, golf on Thursday, and they leave on Friday?"

"Yes," Nanami replied, glancing through some reports before looking up at you. You were in his fluffy bathrobe, hair wet, rubbing lotion over your hands as you stared out at the city. You looked ethereal after a shower, your face glowing under the low light of the room.

"I'm not a fan of golfing," you speak up, making a face.

"You don't have to be," he replies, putting down his papers and standing up, walking towards you. "You can just sit in the golf cart and drink a mimosa and look pretty."

You snorted, laughing that sweet laugh he had come to adore. He stopped at your side, meeting your smile with his own. You clapped your hands, turning to him. You ran a hand over his vest, fumbling with the edge.

"You always look so official. Don't you have sweatpants?"

"I do, but I don't usually wear them when I have company."

"Mm, you should. You should be nice and comfy when you're at home. You should relax."

"I can't relax. I have some work to do."

"Boooooo." You undo his vest, tugging it off his shoulders. "Work can wait. Cmon, go get in your comfy clothes and let's watch a movie."

He snickers, letting you pull off his vest and start unbuttoning his shirt. You were lighthearted until you were halfway down: that's when you stopped. You paused, opening his shirt ever so slightly, revealing his muscular chest. You stared for a moment, feeling your body warm up before you suddenly pulled away, clearing your throat. You handed him his vest, giving a flat smile.

"I'm gonna... go pick a movie."

"...Y/N—"

You rushed past him, moving towards the living room.

"Hurry up! If you're not quick I'm gonna choose something you'll hate."

Nanami stood there for a moment, moving a hand towards his exposed chest, briefly wishing that your soft hands had lingered a bit longer.

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The rest of the week went on without a hitch. Everywhere you went, everyone adored you. Everyone was convinced that you and Nanami were an item; you had them all fooled.

But the entire time... you found yourself growing fond of the man who hired you. You found yourself falling for him the better you got to know him. You knew it was wrong, it went against your own rules, but he was too good to be true.

"Can I say something?" you asked Thursday night, the day before your last day with him.

"Go for it," he said from the other side of the couch, reaching for the popcorn between you. You paused, weighing your words.

"I wish... I wish we had met under different circumstances." He frowned, glancing at you.

"What do you mean?"

"I..." You fiddled with your hands. "I mean that... I wish you hadn't hired me. I wish we had just met in a coffee shop or something."

He scoffed. "Why's that?"

You couldn't respond. You just looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers. Nanami watched you for a minute before clearing his throat.

"Can I say something as well?"

"Shoot," you whispered, still not looking at him. He cleared his throat, inhaling deep.

"I feel the same." You glanced up quickly, watching him stare ahead. "I wish I had met you under different circumstances as well."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Do you mean... you wish I wasn't a prostitute—"

"No," he cut you off quickly, looking at you. "I wish I had met you at a dinner party so I could enjoy your company without having to pay you, so I could ask you out properly."

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, staring at each other. Nanami sighed, moving the bowl of popcorn to the coffee table, scooting closer to you.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

You swallowed. "What?" He stared at you hard, thinking.

"May I break one of the terms of our agreement?"

"Which... which one?"

Another pause.

"May I kiss you?"

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You woke up late in the morning, in his bed, wearing his t-shirt. You could smell something divine, hear sizzling from the other room. You eventually slid out of bed, padding your way into the kitchen.

"You're up early." Nanami scoffed, flipping a pancake.

"Ten a.m. is not early."

"It is for me." He laughed quietly, humming when you wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning into his back. "You didn't have to make me breakfast."

"I wanted to," he replied. "You should eat something before we meet my parents at the airport."

"Could've just had cereal."

"True, but still..." You hummed, trailing your fingers over the waistband of his sweatpants.

"You just wanted me to eat your cooking, huh?"

He sighed, grabbing your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "Maybe."

You giggled, burying yourself into his back, kissing over his shoulder blades.

"You're cute, ya know?"

"I don't think so, but thank you."

You sat down at the dining table, sharing pancakes, fruit compote, and coffee.

"So..." Nanami began, "we broke the your terms of our contract."

"Yeah..."

"...Is it bad that I don't regret it one bit?" You smiled softly.

"No. I feel the same."

"You do?" he asks hopefully, grabbing your hand tenderly.

"Yeah..." You took a deep breath. "Is it bad that I don't want this week to end?"

"No, no, I... I don't want it to end either."

You sat in silence, holding each other's hands.

"Y/N," Nanami spoke, sitting up a bit straighter. "Would you go out with me?"

You felt your heart swell, your throat closing up as you nodded quickly.

"Yes, yes!" You practically leaped into his arms, hugging him tight. You stayed like that for a moment before pulling away. "But I wanna take things slow."

"Yes."

"And I want to stay in my own apartment. I love your place, but I don't think we should move in together yet."

"Understood."

"And I don't want you to spoil me like you have all week."

He sucked in a breath, scrunching his face.

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Kento."

"It's not my fault you deserve to be spoiled."

"Okay, okay... just dial it back a bit. Don't send me on shopping sprees."

"Alright. I'll just surprise you with gifts."

"Ken!"

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#ask #☀️ asks #nanami kento #fem reader #pretty woman au

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