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atmilliways · 1 year

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Part Five: Come, Come On

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) - complete

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2455 Ships: Steddie Major Tags: Jealousy, The Pining Is Mutual Actually, Getting Together Additional Tags: Smut, Steve Harrington Has A Praise Kink

Author’s Note: Banner by @xirayn.

Read it on Ao3

They stumble into Steve’s unlit bedroom, because they both know he has the better mattress.

(Even though Eddie has been trying to pretend he doesn’t know that ever since the day they moved in and Steve had joked, ‘I bet my mattress is better than yours’—and no shit Sherlock, but then Steve hadn’t let it go until Eddie had rolled his eyes and laid on it to officially confirm its superiority.)

Steve lands on his back, Eddie’s hands holding his wrists down to either side of his head and Eddie’s knees to either side of his hips and Eddie practically sitting on his lap. Another press of lips and ragged breathing into each other’s mouths has Steve arching up, not fighting where he’s being held but seeking contact, and Eddie wants to fucking combust.

“Wanted this,” Steve moans into his mouth. “You. Fuck, Eds—”

“Of course you did,” Eddie growls back.

Whether he believes him or not, Eddie has spent too long stewing to let this happen totally on Steve’s terms. That’s not how this is going to go. So he pushes himself up, out of range.

Steve whines, trying to roll his hips again and still not getting what he wants.

“I was trying to be, be cool about it,” he says desperately.

Eddie’s eyebrows disappear behind his bangs. “Cool? Is that the word the popular kids are using for ‘slutty’ these days?”

Steve pouts, all bratty and defiant, and nods down between them. “You don’t seem to mind that much.”

‘He likes for people to see what they’re missing out on by not being with him,’ Nancy had said.

Well, fuck that. Right now, Eddie decides, is all about showing Steve what he’s missed by not being with him. He leans down and bites at the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder, first with teeth and then with suction, and Steve moans, trapped wrists jerking under Eddie’s hands and pressing up into his rings.

“Yes, okay, yeah, yes,” Steve is babbling, “I was being slutty, oh fuck—”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie says roughly, licking over the spot when he’s done, “that’s better. So much better when it’s me you’re moaning for.” (He’s never actually heard Steve moaning for anyone else, he’s been careful about that. But he’s thought about it. Punched a few walls over it, and on one occasion a door—which had been very ill-advised, because the damn thing had rebounded off the wall and smacked him in the face. No one is ever going to hear about that, not even on his deathbed.) “Wanna tell me why you were being so slutty, sweetheart?”

And god, the way Steve’s throat bobs at the endearment. “Wanted you to look at me.”

“I was looking at you anyway.”

Enjoying the pink flush that paints Steve’s cheeks at that, Eddie moves both captive wrists up to above the man’s head, pins them with one hand while the other scrabbles down for the button on his own jeans. A groan of relief spills out when he gets that undone and the zipper down, adjusting himself to no longer be so tightly confined, and then he wastes no time going after Steve’s as well.

“But what can I say?” He nips at Steve’s earlobe, worrying it in his teeth to elicit a series of gasps. “Guess I got a little jealous, Steve—or was that what you were going for?”

“Kind of,” Steve admits, his pout a shade more contrite now. His arms are relaxed where Eddie is holding them above his head but his hips strain with every beat at the pulse point Eddie is nuzzling now, like he just can’t help himself. “I didn’t—I think I did it wrong.”

“Mm, and why’s that?” Eddie murmurs against his skin.

“It took too, ah, too fucking long, Eds, please. . . .”

The whine, the way Steve turns his head to seek another kiss, need rolling off him like steam from a kettle quickly coming to a boil, has Eddie immediately indulging him.

(Indulging both of them, really.)

Keeps playing with him while Steve spills about the whole thing. About how knowing Eddie liked guys didn’t mean he’d like him, and feeling self-conscious about having no experience with guys himself. When Eddie had backed off from dancing with him, he’d spiraled into thinking that maybe it was because of the uncaring asshole that he’d been back in high school; that maybe there was no forgiving King Steve.

(Which is fucking ridiculous, because Steve had literally saved his life and that bought a hell of a lot of leeway.)

So he’d set about proving that he was serious, which. . . . “You know how the last time I was any good at dating was in high school?”

(Debatable. By all accounts, King Steve had been pretty slutty before he’d landed Nancy as a girlfriend, though he had landed her. They’d dated for a whole calendar year, even. And Steve hadn’t exactly been going through a dry spell in the spring of ‘86, before that last brush with the Upside Down.)

“And back then,” Steve continues breathlessly as Eddie strokes a ringed knuckle over the front of his boxers, “it usually worked to, uh. Pretend I didn’t care? It, it drove the girls nuts. So I thought—f-fuck—”

Oh my god, Eddie thinks, feeling his face go completely slack. Oh my god. This is either too funny to be real or so stupid he can’t stand it.

“So,” he says slowly. “You decided to woo me by . . . sleeping with other people.”

(Holy fuck, he was going to kill Nancy. Steve had been jealous of him getting laid because he wanted Eddie’s attention, that’s what had been going on with Steve. And she’d fucking known it.)

Steve whines. “Don’t make me defend it.”

“No no, science is on your side, Steve.” The ‘I really like you’ and ‘I think about you all the time’ parts of the conversation are starting to sink in now, zipping around in Eddie’s blood and making him feel almost manic. The growing damp spot on the front of Steve’s underwear is also a contributing factor.

(Holy fuck, Steve wants me.)

Eddie can’t help the grin that stretches across his face as he continues, “You’re like a bird showing off his sexy plumage and ability to attract a lot of mates—”

“Wanted to make sure I knew how to be good for you, if you ever gave me a chance,” Steve blurts out. “But I haven’t, I haven’t done everything. Eddie, I want you. Not just to show me the rest—that too, please god that too because you’re so, y-you’re—but not just that.”

They should probably talk about all of this more. Except Eddie is tired of talking, tired of anything that isn’t kissing Steve now that that’s apparently a thing he can do.

He breaks away after another moment though, shoving Steve’s shirt impatiently up his chest. “This needs to come off.”

“Just the shirt?”

Brat, even now. Eddie bites sharply at his bottom lip. “Depends on how much you want to give me, sweetheart.”

“Everything,” Steve groans. “Fuck, Eds, all of it. All of me. ‘S yours. Yes.” Which is really all he needed to hear, isn’t it?

That was all he’d ever needed to hear.

Eddie has been thinking about this for a long, long time. In the privacy of his room, in the shower, in his dreams. He’s thought about what Steve would sound like, what he’d feel like, what he’d like, when—

Well. Now, with their clothes flung in all directions and Eddie’s rings on the side table and Steve face-down on the mattress, clutching at the sheets with every fraction of an inch that Eddie eases inside of him, moaning with every little teasing rock back only to push further in. Slowly—because despite his hookups this is one of the things Steve somehow hasn’t done. And when Eddie is buried in him to the hilt, still pushing his ass hopefully back to take more, Jesus H. Christ.

“God, look at you,” Eddie murmurs, breathless. “You fucking love this, don’t you, Stevie?” He has one hand in the other man’s hair, pulling until Steve glances back at him and gives a dazed nod.

“Can you,” Steve pants, eyelids fluttering at another tug of his hair, “can you. . . ?”

Apparently unable to assemble the words, he gives up and lets his mouth fall open, craning back to look up with the side of his forehead braced against the mattress. His tongue lolls invitingly, making Eddie shudder.

“Shit, sweetheart.” Eddie leaves his hand in Steve’s hair, brings the other one up from Steve’s hip instead and slides two fingers into his mouth. Kiss-reddened lips close over them immediately, eager to the point of almost jumping the gun, and Steve moans around the digits as his eyes roll back and he begins to suckle. “Fuck. . . .” Eddie bites his lip, cock throbbing inside him in response. “You just want somebody filling you up all the time, huh Stevie? Is that what you want?”

Another obscene moan and the suction increases—and, yeah, if this is a ploy to get him to pick up the pace then it’s working. There’s no way he’s going to last long.

“You were jealous too, weren’t you,” Eddie breathes heavily into the shell of Steve’s ear as he builds up to a faster tempo, tingling all over because this is fucking happening. “That’s why you let the bartender take my keys, hmm? Why you walked me home? You wanted to get me out of there and have me all to yourself, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” comes the shaky but heartfelt reply around his fingers, a brief interruption in the wet heat and suction.

Eddie licks along his neck, biting down on the tendons there just hard enough to leave imprints in time with his next thrust, and the admission is just as delicious as Steve’s skin. “God, you’re so fucking good like this.”

Steve makes a low, desperate noise beneath him, flushing and fluttering around him, and isn’t that an interesting reaction.

‘I don’t mind you bossing me around.’

“You like being good, baby?” And oh, the muffled whine in response shivers down Eddie’s spine in the best possible way. He slides his fingers out, cups his palm by Steve’s mouth and, obediently, Steve spits. (Not that they need it, with the mess Steve is making of himself; he just wanted to see if he would.) “Good boy.”

“Eddie,” Steve groans. He also cries out when Eddie’s hand smears down his chest and wraps wetly around him.

“That’s it,” Eddie pants, bracing himself from a new angle and nipping at his ear, his jaw, his pulse point. “Wanna hear you, big boy. Make those pretty noises for me, mmmn—Let me hear it and I’ll let you come.”

(Next time, he swears to himself, Steve will be facing him so he can see while it happens. Next time he’s going to draw it out.)

Steve keeps making these low, desperate noises while rocking between his hand and his cock like he can’t decide which one he wants more, captivated in perpetual motion between the two. There’s curly hair in Eddie’s face, in his eyes, sweat-dampened and draped over Steve’s shoulders.

(Next time, if he doesn’t get to tie his hair back and get Steve’s cock in his mouth he’s going to mutiny against the universe.)

“Close,” Steve gasps desperately, the word bursting out in all its cracked glory as he chases the pleasure that Eddie is both wringing out of and pounding into him.

“Good,” Eddie, breathing hard, is about five seconds from coming undone, pressing wet kisses against his neck and shoulder as he doubles his efforts to give Steve his absolute best, to ruin him for anyone else. (As though it’s not the other way around, as if any other man could possibly compare to Steve fucking Harrington, the dude who’d literally carried him out of hell.) “Come for me, sweetheart, be a good boy—”

At the command, Steve goes taut so immediately that the orgasm seems to somehow catch him by surprise. It catches Eddie too, Steve’s tight heat convulsing around him—sweeps him up and tumbles him in his own body until he can no longer tell up from down.

His toes curl, and when he catches his breath several minutes later, he can’t remember the last time he experienced that particular cliche. If ever.

(Absolutely goddamn ruined.)

Steve is adorably pliant when Eddie rolls him gently out of the wet spot on the comforter for a quick wipe down with a warm washcloth. He moves slow and sweet as honey, grinning dazedly up with his eyes barely open. “Stay?” he murmurs hopefully.

Despite some lingering uncertainties, Eddie smiles softly back as he traces over scars that echo his own. They really are like a matching set. “You want me to, baby?”

“Yeah. . . . ‘Sgonna be cold though, comforter’s dirty.”

“You don’t say.”

“Mm.” To emphasize the point, Steve wriggles lazily until he’s off the comforter—Eddie just sits back and enjoys the show—and kicks it off the bed. “You’ll have to hold me.”

Eddie snorts, but he’s grinning. “You wanna be the little spoon, Stevie?”

“Learned lots of new things about myself over the past few months,” Steve replies, sounding very pleased with himself.

Well, Eddie thinks, appraising and giddy and edging on interested in going again sometime soon because he’s in bed with Steve goddamn Harrington. The guy is an Adonis, all broad, strong shoulders and kiss-reddened smile and everything Eddie has been kind of obsessed with for years. Why not be the dish that ran away with the spoon, in the end?

He does make a quick trip to his own room to grab the blanket off his bed, though, because he spent too many winters in a poorly insulated trailer to run the risk of sleeping cold, no matter how much of a heat source Steve is. After all that life and death stuff, he figures they’ve both earned that comfort.

Earned treating this like it means something, because it does.

It’s everything.

A few weeks later, when Robin inevitably visits them in their shitty two-bedroom apartment, she sleeps in the second room. She openly makes fun of them for two years of friendship and two really dramatic nights to figure their shit out, too—nothing that Eddie hasn’t already heard from Nancy, really, and Steve takes it with resigned good grace.

Eddie loves him so fucking much. He’ll tell him one of these days.

(. . . Lie.)

(He’s already written it on the J-card of the mix tape he’s made for their one-month anniversary.)

#steddie fanfiction #steddie smut #post-canon eddie munson lives #steve harrington has a praise kink #stranger music anthology #lie one more time come on fic

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smeraldos · 2 years

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happier

You weren’t picky, but you might be soon, given the way your dates turned out. The men you met were either as boring as a drive through the desert (cue the tumbleweeds) or charming until they ghosted (also cue the tumbleweeds). At this point, dating felt hopeless, and you were ready to call it quits.

Jin, chaotically good friend that he is, doesn't agree. He's determined to help you out, and it starts like this...

genre: fluff, comedy, angst

pairings: seokjin/reader, ??/reader

tags: jin trying his hand at mischief matchmaking, mutual pining, possibly unrequited love, (1) mention of 2005 P&P

wc: 1.4K

"Maybe I'd be content if I were a cat lady," you tell Jin over the phone, pouring yolk into your mixing bowl. "I'd have a quaint house by the sea, a garden wild with cosmos, and I'd be better than okay. I'd be...what was it Keira said? Perfectly and incandescently—"

"Crabby."

If he were here right now, you’d swat him with your whisk. “What did you say?”

“I can tell you're pounding your batter," he chides instead. "Quit doing that.”

Obviously, you beat it harder.

"Look," he says gently, in what you're sure is a deliberate effort to avoid sighing, "I get it. I’m single, you're single, and life is better as a party of one. That's not the reason you want to be a cat lady.”

It's not something you want to discuss, either. Your party of one is already a pity party, and it would have just been you if Jin hadn’t crashed, calling you by surprise after a trip to Barcelona. You're tempted to give an excuse to end the call, but that would mean dealing with your issues alone.

Too bad misery loves company.

Sorry, your date texted, half an hour after you'd planned to meet. Got roped into a last min thing.

No plans to make up for it. When you'd asked if he wanted to reschedule, he didn't respond.

Jin doesn’t know this. You've only given him the glib version, which is yes, you're still looking, and no, you haven't found anyone.

“What you need,” he says, “is a change in scenery. Spice things up. How about a blind date?"

You could laugh; you almost do. The dates you’ve been on, while not blind, were so stilted they could have been informal interviews. 9 times out of 10 they'd be at a coffee shop. None of it was cute or sweet or whatever you were supposed to expect from a good date. “Name one guy you know would be interested."

Jin sounds all too pleased to say he can name a few. Contingent, of course, on whether you'd let him set you up.

“Are they okay with my work life?”

“They’re sympathetic.”

You exhale. “Fine," you say before you can chicken out. "I’ll do it.”

Jin lied.

He said he’d give you a name or two, but what he gives are breadcrumbs. According to him, your first date is:

1. 26

2. A designer

3. A great guy with a great sense of humor

You expect to hear more, but Jin simply reaches over to drizzle vinaigrette on his salad.

“That's it?”

“What do you mean 'that's it'?” He asks as if you'd expected him to know an Ivy League graduate, top of his class, now an analyst at Goldman Sachs. “Don't tell me you want his credit score."

You scoff. “Didn't you know I was looking for marriage material, nevermind that I can't score a date?”

Jin shoots you a pointed look you pretend not to notice, keeping your gaze glued to your Mac. “I mean," you explain, "he sounds cool and all, but what's his name? Pics? Stuff like that."

“Ah–” He stops. “Hold on, I’m about to sneeze.”

You use the time to finish up your slides and email them to your manager to review, yet his sneeze never comes. Looking up, you notice he’s back to eating his salad.

“Jin.”

“What?” He asks mid-chew, then remembering himself, swallows.

“Oh. Maybe later.”

You narrow your eyes.

He ignores you much the same way you did earlier, although he hardly has to avoid your gaze to do it. He pops an olive into his mouth. “You’ve got a meeting in five. Something about the boss' boss attending?"

Reluctantly, you glance at the time. It's 1:55, and your next meeting is at 2. Giving Jin a half-hearted glare, you sweep your laptop into your bag and dash out of the café.

Saturday evening, you both agree to meet a block away from your bricked walk-up. I lost my metro pass, you'd told him, so can you take me to my date? All the while, said card was sitting snugly in your wallet.

Thanks to a little tête-à-tête, Jin’s flatmate revealed the first letters of your date’s name. K, i, something, Yoongi had said. That's all I got. He was texting him around dinner last night to confirm details.

Your plan tonight is to swipe Jin's phone and do a little research before you meet your date. Call it payback. No one keeps you in the dark and gets away with it.

His car, however, is nowhere to be seen.

You pace up and down the strip of sidewalk, thankful the air is cooler or your dress would have started clinging. Pulling out your phone, you send a text.

ur not in front of the wrong apt, are u?

jin from orientation

well, did you move and forget to tell me?

if i did it wouldn’t have been an accident

jin from orientation

thought so. i'm behind a vw beetle. there's a manic pix

wait. can you do the YMCA

You wave urgently instead.

ok i see you, madwoman, he replies. A few seconds later, a loud honk blasts through the air.

Jin waves at you from a car you strode past, further down the street. Gone are the window marker stains, dry leaves stuck between windshield wipers, and Lyft decals he’d wryly deemed Honor Roll stickers. In its place is a shiny, good as new, black Camry.

"Hey," you greet when you approach, pulling the passenger door open. “Did you take your car to the shop? I thought your lease wasn't up yet.”

"Nope," Jin says as you slide in. "I came, I cleaned, I conquered. And I accept credit in the form of compliments."

"I'm actually more impressed you riffed off a Caesar quote and made it relevant to homemakers."

"What can I say? I've got a tough crowd to please."

“I'm sure the PTA would love you," you tease, right as the scent of a spiced fragrance distracts you. You can't tell what's in it, but it smells luxurious: a little old money with a breath of fresh air.

Curious, you turn to face Jin.

He's polished in a gray suit, one hand poised on the automatic shift, the other resting lightly on the wheel. With his hair smoothed back, he looks every bit the film star he’s striving to be.

“Actually…” He trails off when he catches your gaze, then starts again, his voice softer. “There's someone else I wanted to impress.”

You try to think of alternatives: an up-and-coming director, maybe, or a producer with connections to Hollywood. Anything but the very slim chance you've burned yourself hoping for, when falling felt a lot like flying.

"Are you…” You start, but your words hold fast to your throat.

“Also going on a date?” He laughs, endearingly self-conscious, the tips of his ears turning red. “Yeah. Weird timing, huh? I thought I’d just drop you off, but Cara's in town and wants me to meet someone."

You try to put on a convincing smile, and judging by the way Jin doesn't comment on it, you've done a decent job. "That's great. I'll just move to the back, then." You turn to unbuckle your seatbelt, but Jin beats you to it, covering the button before you can press it.

"Why?"

"Because I'm sitting next to you...wearing this, and, um, wouldn't she get the wrong idea?"

He smiles, and if it weren't so casual, you'd suspect him for acting out of guilt rather than reassurance. He uncovers the button. "Don’t worry about it. If you need an alibi, you’re my funny uncle’s neighbor’s sister’s niece. From Switzerland."

You laugh because he’s looking to gauge your reaction, although you can't help it, either. The joke is funny. You're not so much in the neutral party as you are fully on his side, invisible. Or maybe not invisible, but too long a part of it to be seen the way you want. Leaning back, you watch out the window, your tree-lined neighborhood blurring into neon-lit streets; people rushing to bars, restaurants, gold-glinted hotels the further he drives into the city. The night is still young, and you have other options to look forward to.

Jin's phone lights up, Kim's 7/11 flashing across his screen.

Maybe that's your chance.

#jin x reader #jin x y/n #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #my fic #bangtanarmynet

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snoozeagustd · 2 years

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100 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE CELEBRATION!?

HI, OKAY WHAT THE FUCK??!! I just woke up and what do I see?

THIS:

I am literally in shock right now!

thank you so much for all of the love that you have given me and honestly thank you so so much for all the support you all have given this blog! I never expected this blog to have 100 followers, let alone more than 100, but you all proved me wrong.

THANK YOU MY LOVELIES I WILL ALWAYS BE GRATEFUL FOR EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU <33

To celebrate (because i like to find excuses to celebrate anything and everything), I wanted to do something fun! Thank you so much Freya darling (@sugarwithtea) for helping me come up with a few ideas for this event and for keeping up with my rambling! This literally would not have been possible without you my jaan!

I will be taking requests for this event over 2 weeks (!!!) and I'll try my best to answer them as soon as possible. Please read the rules for each game (whether you can be on anon, whether you are a mutual, ect)

all posts related to this event will be tagged as #nixie hits 100!

I hope you guys enjoy~~

(please ignore how messy this banner is. i’m doing some semblance of editing after literal years and i have definitely gotten worse-)

💫 vibe check : i’ll tell you what vibes i get from you/your blog in a moodboard (ive never done this before so please don’t mind that it’s not great) (off anon please)

💕 shipping game : send me a description of yourself/a fun fact + a fandom (Marvel, Obey Me, BTS or TXT) and i’ll ship you with a character! (anon is allowed)

🕹️ games: any of your typical tumblr event games! (fmk, would you rather, top 5 or anything else you can think of!) (anon is allowed)

🔖 recommendations (from you) : send me any recommendations you have for tv shows, movies, books, songs, tumblr blogs, etc! (anon is allowed)

📑 recommendations (from me) : i’ll put my ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle and recommend you a song! (off anon please)

🫂shout outs: recommend some of your own fics or just some fics you love so we can show appreciation for all these amazing writers here on tumblr! (anon is allowed)

❤ first love: share some crush stories with me! (anon is allowed)

Since it’s also my birthday today, I've decided to add a few more personal asks so that you can get to know me better!

🔮 then and now: tell me your first impression of me and I'll tell you mine! (off anon please) (mutuals only)

🏹 exchange ship: tell me who you ship me with, and I'll tell you yours with a why (off anon please) (mutuals only)

💌 questions: send me any questions that you have for me! NSFW questions are allowed! (for NSFW asks, you need to be off anon so that i can verify your age) for general questions, you can ask me on anon! (gain inspiration here or here )

✨ advice: ask me for some advice on questions about life or just whatever you want! (please don’t take my answers seriously) (anon is allowed)

Below this, I'm just going to tag some of my friends here on tumblr who have made my time here super super fun and memorable! I am truly grateful and appreciative to all of you!

to some of my closest friends here:

@mochakat @eternallydaydreaming2015 @tea-is-vibing @adoveamongdemons @poetic-dumbass @buckyinluv @kaitioo @sugarwithtea @jjkeverlast @yoongukie-ff

firstly, thank you for taking time out of your day to talk to my pathetic ass :’) i really do hope that we can continue to be friends for a long time because i don’t know what i would do without all of you. You guys don’t know it, but you have become a big part of my life! I truly treasure and appreciate all of you <3

i love and treasure yall sm, you have no idea 💖💗💝❤️‍🔥❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🤍💕

to the rest of my moots:

@istanfluffycontent @yourlocaltimetraveler @chiimiie @namkook @hawtymin @hobipost @kookiecrumb @parkdatjimin @bebejungkook @smasmashie @thetaeprint @xpeachesncream @liyacreate @glamrocklevi @angeladore @just-another-fangirl-69 @henry-and-the-seven-lords @obeythebutler @adoveamongdemons @this-bitch-needs-therapy @incorrectlyavenged @somniprobe @satandrankmy-coffee @a-hoe-in-human-form-2 @kimtaesss @underratedbitch-number13 @pjiminbloomx @yoongukie-ff @skyfull0fstories @lvoekook @wrote-my-own-deliverance @youlightmeupfinn @gimmethatagustd @bangtanintotheroom

I know that we don’t really interact much outside of reblogs and/or likes but I hope you know that whenever I see you in my notifs, I literally smile like an idiot. no joke. anyways, please feel free to approach me because due to my anxiety, I will never be able to although i really want to talk to all of you. I hope that we can get closer eventually <3

to the rest of my followers,

thank you so so much for allowing me to reach this milestone when I never ever thought that I would. I really appreciate you and I adore seeing you in my notifs! I do recognize you, you know? I hope that as time goes on, we can have more of such events and celebrate together!!

💖💖✨✨

#nixie speaks #ettie🌸#dove and nixie being an iconic duo #kai's wanda #nixieee and teaaa 🥰#jjkeverlast #lati <3 #august🌊#nixie and lys in looove<3 #nixie and freya💌#yoongukie ff #meg <3 #nixie hits 100!#100 followers milesone!#nixie's 22!

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soulrph · 2 years

Note

I feel somehow upset that I was doing a rp that I was really enjoying and out of no where after the first reply and when I went to reply that they just soft block me out of nowhere, I am confused what I did wrong?

hi my darling! first things first, your feelings are more than valid. i think everyone on the dash, at some point or other, has or will experience this, and there’s not a soul among us who can say the feeling isn’t a bad one. however, i’m going to adjust the perspective on this, because like yourself, i’ve been placed in that position before and repeatedly felt that i had done something wrong or offensive or bad to the person who soft-blocked me. and the truth is, i think there’s actually only a very small handful of people who ever did do anything “wrong” to the soft-blocker! but that’s not to say that the person who soft-blocked you was wrong, either. let me explain!

recently, there’s been a huge rise in people doing spring-cleaning on their blogs. what does this mean? basically, people can go through their mutuals, and soft-block people who aren’t writing with them, or people who they aren’t particularly close with, or people who they simply don’t vibe that strongly with, until they bring their mutual count down to a manageable number! i do it sometimes, not out of badness, but rather because i’m just really busy lately, and i can’t reasonably write with absolutely everyone in my mutual list. it’s also not fair of me to expect them to wait until things calm down, though, so it’s easier to just let people know i’m doing a spring-clean, and then i can keep doing, and one day i might return to follow them again and write again! it’s never anything personal, it’s just understanding one’s limits and doing what you can to keep things going.

secondly, sometimes people just soft-block because they mightn’t be on the same wave-length as someone else. it’s not a massive thing! again, nobody has done anything wrong! but maybe it’s the writing styles, maybe it’s a squick or a trigger or just a topic that, while not taboo or wrong, still makes them uncomfortable. for example, on my rp blog, my muse works at a diner, so naturally the topic of food comes up a lot. this is fine if i remember to tag it, but sometimes i forget. that’s part of being human! but if someone saw it, and felt uncomfortable, they’re not wrong to soft-block me, and i’m not wrong for writing what i wrote. you know?

i feel like i’m focusing on the wrong part of the message, but also, perhaps i’m not. my response is that you most likely haven’t done anything wrong. like, 99% of the time, nobody has done anything intentionally wrong, and that’s where the issue lies, right? we’re all human. we forget rules, we make mistakes, and we’re online, so we can’t read facial expressions to see if we’re making anyone uncomfortable! we can’t control that! we can only control whether or not we intentionally, purposefully, actively set out to hurt, offend, or upset anyone. and you didn’t!

the person who soft-blocked you is most likely spring-cleaning as a result of feeling overwhelmed, or didn’t feel that they were on the same wavelength as you. and whatever it was, it wasn’t an issue that they felt was necessary to discuss with you. which is a huge sign that, most likely, it was just a case of people being different from one another. you did nothing wrong. please know that. you’re a good person, and this is a sucky feeling, but it’s also a feeling that, over time, gets replaced by kind logic that reminds you that there’s millions of people on this site, and it’s okay if there’s a few that aren’t on your wavelength. your wavelength is still amazing! their wavelength is fantastic! it’s just not the same wavelength, that’s all.

ily nonnie. you’re a good person! and i hope you feel better soon.

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opwomcn · 2 years

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RULES

Short, sweet, and to the point. Follow these rules and we all have a great time.

1. Mutuals only. I must be following you and you must be following me. Only those that I follow can like starter calls, send in character asks, and reply to posts.

1a. I will not interact with non-Mutuals, that includes asks, unless it’s done anonymously and it doesn’t have a url attached. Anyone who breaks this rule will get about a few pardons but after that will be blocked.

2. My time is limited here in what I can do. This means that I am very selective in what I reply to. Doesn’t necessary mean that I am ignoring anyone. Some days I reply to everything and everyone, others I am so burnt out from irl things or work that I just lurk and do the bare minimum. My mental health and well-being comes before anything else.

2a. Replies vary by length and time. I normally work eight to ten hours a day and experience a lot of exhaustion. Unless I don’t see a thread or an ask going anywhere and publicly make a post saying it’s been dropped, consider everything as pending / will do ASAP. Memes are okay to send in late unless it clearly states, not accepting. My timezone is Eastern Standard Time or EST. United States is where I am located at. I am usually online from 10 PM EST to 3 AM EST unless it’s a day off from work, which the online time will vary from 12 PM EST to 3 AM EST.

2b. Role-playing is a hobby, not a job. Do not pester me for replies or asks to be answered. I am not obligated to owe anyone anything on this website. I am human and can’t cater to everyone’s needs. Being persistent here is not going to make me answer yours faster than other people.

2c. Don’t follow, unfollow, and then refollow my blog. It’s not going to make me want to follow you back, ever. It’s annoying and no one is being crafty by doing that. If you continue to do this and it isn’t a tumblr glitch, I will be inclined to block and possibly report for spam.

3. If you do need to break mutuals with me, HARD BLOCK my blog. Don’t just UNFOLLOW or SOFT BLOCK because chances are that I could mistakenly follow you again. And that’s something we both don’t want since it would be quite awkward.

3a. I have the right to unfollow whoever I want to and so do you. Please don’t go on a hunt and try to guilt trip me into following you back again. Just don’t. I can and will tell you the reason why I unfollowed you but other than that, just let me leave in peace.

3b. Personal blogs and non RP blogs will be blocked on site. Please, if you have a side blog let me know through asks so I don’t accidentally block you. IMs are not a good way to let me know since they are closed for non-mutuals.

4. Duplicates are welcomed to follow me. The more the merrier. I do not suffer from same muse anxiety and encourage any of the same muse to follow me. Only request is that you don’t steal my headcanons, edits or icons. Other than that, we should all be able to have a good time. I’m always up for twin verses or alternate universes shenanigans.

4a. Original Characters are allowed to follow me. However, they need to be a little flesh out before I make a decision to follow them back or not. Just a small backstory or biography is all that I need. Headcanons also work if there isn’t an about page but must have about one page worth for me to consider following.

4b. Crossover Characters from other shows are allowed to follow me but I must know about said muse or else I’ll have a hard time whether to follow or not. Few fandoms I won’t interact with because I have no interest in these series are: Avatar the Last Airbender, Avatar the Legend of Korra. ( more to be added ).

5. I am a multi-ship blog. All ships are separate in their own standings. Most of my muses are in the 20-30 range. As such, I will only be shipping them romantically with muses their own age range ( 19 to late 30s ). Some threads may get a little spicy for mu muses but nothing that requires a ‘ do not read at work’ type of posts. I will tag those post that are suggestive with a ‘spicy: tw & spicy for ts’ for blacklisting purposes.

5a. I am open to all kinds of ships, not just romantic ones. I also enjoy platonic, rivalry, and familiar bonds. All ships are open to discussions through my IM(s) or otherwise known as Instant Messenger. Chemistry is key. As long as we interact a little, there’s always the chance that both muses can be in a relationship.

6. Things for you to tag for me are: BIRDS, CHAIN LETTERS, ORGANS, DOGS. For the birds and dogs, just irl ones trigger me. I am fine with cartoon / art / video game ones as they are not real.

6a. This blog will contain sensitive themes from time to time. However, I will tag common things like those mentioned below. If you need anything tagged, please let me know through instant messaging / IMs. Things I’ll tag for you are but not limited to: BLOOD, GORE, DEATH, BODY HORROR, EYE HORROR, INSECTS, MAGGOTS, BRUISES, SCARS, GUNS, KNIVES, CLOWNS.

7. I am over the age of eighteen. However, I refuse to write smut as I am not comfortable with that subject to begin with and also the fact that some of the muses found here are MINORS which is a big huge NO. Please never force me to write this with you and if you keep sending things to me in this type of nature, I will report you, no questions asked.

7a. If I see any form of hate and I find out it was you that sent it, I will immediately BLOCK you. No questions asked. Life is too short to send unwanted hate, anon or not. All anon hate and hate towards me and my characters ( s ) in general will be reported and then blocked, no questions asked.

8. My pen name on here is SERE. Obliviously, that is not my real name but it’s what I go by. It’s short for ‘Serena’, the English name that DIC gave Usagi Tsukino in the Americanized version of Sailor Moon. It’s pronounced; SIR-REE.

9. I am not a meme source. If you need to reblog a meme from my blog and don’t plan to send me anything, reblog from the source. I hardly get asks as it is, and for you to just use me as a meme source puts a bad taste in my mouth and I feel like I’m being used, which isn’t a good feeling. If you wonder if you should send in a meme to me, please do. I love getting asks. I do hoard them from time to time like a dragon hoards treasure but I do get to them eventually. The more memes / asks, the merrier.

9a. Feel free to turn inbox replies into threads. Just remember to make a separate post when replying. Do not reblog threads not meant for you and don’t reblog my headcanons. It’s okay to reblog my asks though if you want them to be keepsakes on your own blog. Also, it’s alright to reblog musings and images from me.

10. I rather not be bothered by callout posts and any potential drama that might accumulate. I am just here to have fun and I hope everyone else can too. Life is too short to spend on certain things that don’t matter in the long run. If I see multiple call out posts from you in a single day or that’s all you post, I will quietly unfollow you.

11. Out of character posts will be on here from time to time. Mostly talking about life in general or me venting once in a great while. If this annoys you, please remember that this is my blog, not yours. You are welcomed to unfollow / block at any time.

11a. The best way to interact with me is to send memes / asks / inbox things. I am always up for unprompted things in my inbox. Also, my instant messenger is always open if someone needs to contact me out of character or to plot something. Don’t hesitate to talk to me. I will try my best to respond.

11b. Not interacting after a month or two with me and my blog will make me silently unfollow you or result in a soft block. Or if you don’t interact with me at all, even out of character. Also, if you are gone for more than 6 months, I consider your blog inactive and will probably assume that you aren’t going to return.

12. I’m really laid-back in nature so don’t feel pressure to reply to anything I send to you. I understand that life happens and that sometimes you just need to unwind from the stress of daily life.

13. For pronouns; either SHE/HER or THEY/THEM is okay with me. My orientation is DEMIROMANTIC ASEXUAL. I love anime, manga, video games, music, drawing, and writing. If you read all of this, then thank you! I won’t ask for passcodes but please still try to remember these at some point. That’s all I ask. <3.

( rules may be updated from time to time so please check here once in awhile. I will also post when these are updated as well

#long post: tw #rules;;#mobile rules;;

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shiigures-a · 1 year

Text

RULES

Short, sweet, and to the point. Follow these rules and we all have a great time.

Mutuals only. I must be following you and you must be following me. Only those that I follow can like starter calls, send in character asks, and reply to posts.

My time is limited here in what I can do. This means that I am very selective in what I reply to. Doesn’t necessary mean that I am ignoring anyone. Some days I reply to everything and everyone, others I am so burnt out from irl things or work that I just lurk and do the bare minimum. My mental health and well-being comes before anything else.

If you do need to break mutuals with me, HARD BLOCK my blog. Don’t just UNFOLLOW or SOFT BLOCK because chances are that I could mistakenly follow you again. And that’s something we both don’t want since it would be quite awkward.

Duplicates are welcomed to follow me. The more the merrier. I do not suffer from same muse anxiety and encourage any of the same muse to follow me. Only request is that you don’t steal my headcanons, edits or icons. Other than that, we should all be able to have a good time. I’m always up for twin verses or alternate universes shenanigans.

I am a multi-ship blog. Tashigi is in her 20s during the entire series and as such, I will only be shipping her romantically with muses around her age range which is late 30s to early 20s ( 19 is the lowest I would be willing to go). Some threads may get a little spicy but nothing that requires a ‘do not read at work’ type of posts. I will tag those post that are suggestive with a ‘spicy: tw & spicy for ts’ and ‘I don’t fraternalize with pirates…most of the time’ for blacklisting purposes.

Things for you to tag for me are: BIRDS, CHAIN LETTERS, ORGANS, DOGS. For the birds and dogs, just in real life ones trigger me. I am fine with cartoon / art / video game ones as they are not real.

6a. Things I’ll tag for you: BLOOD, GORE, DEATH, BODY HORROR, EYE HORROR, INSECTS, MAGGOTS, BRUISES, SCARS, GUNS, KNIVES, CLOWNS. If there are anything I missed that you want tagged, please let me know through IM(s).

I am over the age of eighteen. However, I refuse to write smut as I am not comfortable with that subject to begin with. Please never force me to write this with you and if you keep sending things to me in this type of nature, I will report you, no questions asked.

My pen name on here is SERE. Obviously, that is not my real name but it’s what I go by. It’s short for ‘Serena’, the English name that DIC gave Usagi Tsukino in the Americanized version of Sailor Moon. It’s pronounced; SIR-REE. I am not a meme source. If you need to reblog a meme from my blog and don’t plan to send me anything, reblog from the source. I hardly get asks as it is, and for you to just use me as a meme source puts a bad taste in my mouth and I feel like I’m being used, which isn’t a good feeling. If you wonder if you should send in a meme to me, please do. I love getting asks. I do hoard them from time to time like a dragon hoards treasure but I do get to them eventually. The more memes / asks, the merrier.

9a. Feel free to turn inbox replies into threads. Just remember to make separate post when replying. Do not reblog threads not meant for you and don’t reblog my headcanons. It’s okay to reblog my asks though if you want them to be keepsakes on your own blog. Also, it’s alright to reblog musings and images from me.

I rather not be bothered by callout posts and any potential drama that might accumulate. I am just here to have fun and I hope everyone else can too. Life is too short to spend on certain things that don’t matter in the long run. If I see multiple call out posts from you in a single day or that’s all you post, I will quietly unfollow you. Out of character posts will be on here from time to time. Mostly talking about life in general or me venting once in a great while. If this annoys you, please remember that this is my blog, not yours. You are welcomed to unfollow / block at any time.

I’m really laid-back in nature so don’t feel pressure to reply to anything I send to you. I understand that life happens and that sometimes you just need to unwind from the stress of daily life. For pronouns; either SHE/HER or THEY/THEM is okay with me. My orientation is DEMIROMANTIC ASEXUAL. I love anime, manga, video games, music, drawing, and writing. If you read all of this, then thank you! I won’t ask for passcodes but please still try to remember these at some point. That’s all I ask. <3

( rules may be updated from time to time so please check here once in awhile. I will also post when these are updated as well ).

#long post: tw #rules;;#laws;;#mobile rules;;#mobile laws;;

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thereigning-lorelai · 3 years

Photo

We're Julie and the Phantoms. Tell your friends. (insp)

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝟒. ♡ 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

"Hi! I hope u have a lovely day :] I was wondering if I could request an imagine where you're online friends with Gogy and one day you send him a picture wearing his merch and he can't stop thinking about it and finally ends up telling you he has a crush on you?? Thank you in advance :] I really enjoy your writing"

pairing: georgenotfound x reader

warnings: Zoom Video Communications none :)

links: | ao3 | request | masterlist |

⋆ song recommendation: Slowly by Josh Gilligan

(streamer bf gogy brainrot brrr) hello sweet anon! thank you for much for this request :) I love love love all the geo simps and their ideas. also thank you to my dearest LB for helping me with the plot help. happy reading, everyone! ♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You tapped your fingers on your desk, nails clattering at you waiting to be let into your third Zoom meeting of the day. Usually, you got off with only one lecture, but because of upcoming exams, you were finding yourself in and out of virtual meetings and office hours. Sure, it was better than jogging from building to building, fighting the crowds, and searching for a seat in a packed lecture hall, but it was still wearing you down beyond belief.

You rested your chin in your hand as your window went from white to dark grey, the square with your name getting wedged in beside the professor. Everyone’s cameras were off, a thankful sigh leaving your lips as your head slumped down to lay against your arm, the danger of falling asleep suddenly becoming more prominent.

You jumped slightly as your professor cleared their throat, sharing their screen and beginning to ramble off facts listed on the slideshow. You played with your keyboard, focused on removing a crumb from beneath your spacebar that was almost unreachable. You usually took notes in the class, but today was just one of those days.

“... And with that in mind, I’m going to put you all into breakout rooms…” Your professor trailed off, eyebrows furrowed as they peered at their screen and clicked frantically to assign all of you to rooms. You yawned, smacking your cheeks and sitting up. You were determined not to be a shitty partner, at least. The white box popped up, inviting you to join breakout room four. That’s always lucky, you thought to yourself as you joined.

Once again, you were cursed to look at the buffering wheel of death as your internet struggled to sustain all your opened tabs. Please, just a little longer, you groaned internally, eyes dashing towards the receiver and exhaling in relief as your computer connected to the breakout room. You turned on your camera, eliciting your partner, George, to do the same.

You flashed him a smile as you struggled to open the article from the previous night. “Hi! How’s it going?” You greeted, not yet looking at him.

“I’m good, actually. How are you?” He engaged, his voice deep and tired.

You finally managed to split your screen enough so that you could see him and the article. “Yeah, I’m good too. Thanks,” you chewed the inside of your cheek, eyes skimming some of the notes you’d etched into the margins. “So, did you have any idea what,” you paused, squinting at the author’s name, “Robert A. Schneider means when he discusses how ‘men of letters’ fear the lower class more than anything?” You asked, as your eyes trailed across your screen to finally gauge his reaction, you were taken aback by his appearance.

His soft features and dark eyes made you feel safe. As he smiled softly, running his fingers into his hair, he seemed to be racking his brain for an answer. He opened his mouth to begin, detailing what you had previously thought with better articulation.

The two of you got through the basic questions the professor had scripted for the students, then finding yourself still stuck in the breakout room. On a normal day, your professor would have pulled everyone back into the call after the first few questions.

George swiveled in his chair quietly as he listened to you briefly explain your area of study. His kind smile made your heart flutter slightly. Deep down, you hoped the two of you would be stuck in the room for a while.

Soon your topics blended into what kind of movies you both watched, a debate on where you could buy the cheapest bread on campus, and what kind of party people the two of you were. After an hour, instead of worrying whether or not your professor was dead, you were swapping numbers and planning out how the two of you would turn the Florida Keys into the headquarters of your new cult where the members would all worship a separate bitchy philosopher.

You pulled one of your legs to your chest, resting your cheek against your knee as his laughing died out. “Okay, this might be a weird question, but I need to know why your webcam is so clear. Is it like an OnlyFans thing or…”

He chuckled. “Yeah it’s definitely OnlyFans,” he joked, making you laugh. “I’m actually a ᵐⁱⁿᵉᶜʳᵃᶠᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ” he mumbled.

Your eyebrows perked playfully. “You’re a what?”

He pursed his lips to fit the grin stretching across his face. “ᵃ ᵐⁱⁿᵉᶜʳᵃᶠᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ”

You snorted slightly. “Sorry darling, you’ll have to speak up. What was that?”

He wet his lips, rolling his eyes as he bashfully groaned. “I’m a Minecraft streamer.”

You giggled, him basking in your disbelief. He smiled a bit brighter as he shrugged, leaning back in his chair as you rambled off questions. “There’s no way! Nerd!” you chaffed, making him smile as if he liked it when you playfully teased him. “Are you super popular?” You asked, catching your breath.

He bit his bottom lip swaying his head slightly as if deciding not to answer. “Mmmm. Not really.”

“Well, come on, Georgios! Give me your Twitch user and I’ll be your biggest fan, I promise.” He laughed at your response, digging out his phone to send you a link.

“I’d like to see you try,” he mumbled.

After the class had finally ended, you’d learned that your professor was on the phone with their credit card company. In the following weeks, you and George were in constant contact, even becoming part of each other’s daily routines.

As you studied for finals, you’d turn on his stream, letting his voice alleviate some of the stress of your exams. He knew you were watching and would even drop hints for you in what he was saying, or he’d blatantly just ask what you were talking about in your essay for a certain class. After the stream would end, he’d call you either on Discord or the phone, just so it felt like the two of you were studying together.

Jokingly, you badgered him to send you some of his merch, threatening to buy it from a bootleg online store if he didn’t. He had only brushed it off at the time, but shortly after, you received a hoodie in the mail with his gamer tag printed across it.

It was late at night when you’d received it, the tiredness of your eyes and George’s dulcet tones lulling you towards the idea of a dead sleep. Yet, you were drawn from your pleasant relaxation with the shrilling of your doorbell. You shrugged out of your blanket cocoon, grabbing your phone and trudging down the stairs. As you tore open the bag, your phone buzzed with a text from George asking if you’d seen something that one of his chat members. You chuckled softly and dug your hand into the material, holding it out in front of you.

You snickered to yourself, running your fingers across the red patch in the center. You slipped it over your head, letting the softness of the fabric brush against your skin. You snapped a photo of yourself and stumbled back upstairs before sending it to him.

When you returned, George was focused on something he was crafting. His eyes darted down to one corner of the screen where his phone was probably sitting. His eyes flashed back up with a smug grin on his face as if he knew exactly what you were going to say. Your “Thanks sugar daddy xx,” probably didn’t help either.

“What, chat?” His voice came out slightly uneven as he bit back a smile. You skimmed what people were asking. “It’s not a nude. A friend of mine got something I sent them,” he answered nonchalantly, finishing up what he was doing. The chat began to spam quietly. “No, it’s not a maid costume. Jesus Christ.” He leaned back in his chair, grabbing his phone and opening your message.

A grin spread across his face, alongside the light dusting of rosy pigment settling in his cheeks. He chuckled to himself, quickly replying before getting back to his game. You scoffed at his response.

George (H325) Anything for my silly little baka

You curled up again, putting away your schoolwork and devoting your attention to watching his stream as you drifted off to sleep.

Once again, you found yourself at the mercy of your internet as you attempted to join the breakout room assigned to you. You almost jumped out of your chair when it finally connected and you found George waiting for you. You smiled slightly as he scrolled through his phone. “What are the chances?” You asked, pulling his eyes to you.

He grinned, clicking off whatever he was looking at. “I was just about to raid your inbox.”

You chuckled. “I almost wore your merch to class, just to out you to whoever my partner was,” you joked, making him roll his eyes.

“I’m glad it’s me then,” he responded. You began scrounging around for your article. After a beat of hesitation, George spoke up again. “Hey, I’m glad you like the sweatshirt…” You perked an eyebrow in his direction. “I actually haven’t been able to get that picture out of my head. I know it’s stupid,” he stated lightly, chuckling nervously. You could feel your heart beating in your ears. “It’s so lame, but I think I have a crush on you.”

You sat back in your chair, stunned. “I mean, the feeling’s mutual. Even if it’s lame,” you mirrored, winking at him. “I mean, maybe it’s not lame because I know I like you.”

He smiled to himself at your answer before chuckling, “Should we Zoom date or something?”

#georgenotfound headcanons #georgenotfound x y/n #georgenotfound fluff #georgenotfound x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff #mcyt imagine #college au #gnf x reader #gnf brainrot #gnf my beloved #gnf x y/n

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goldenshoyo · 3 years

Text

Make This Feel Like Home

Matsukawa Issei x Fem!Reader

This was a commission. If you’re interested in commissioning me, dm me!

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Fem!Reader, oral (fem receiving), phone sex, praise, use of "daddy" and "princess", and praise. Lmk if you want anything else tagged.

Word Count: 2.8k

Network: @hqintheclub | Tip Jar

Issei excelled at many things in life, whether it be business or pleasure he gave it his all. Especially when it came to you. There wasn’t a part of you he didn’t give attention to whenever he was devoting his time to you, in fact, there was nothing he enjoyed more than pleasing you. Hearing your breathless moans, high-pitched whines, whimpers, and of course the glorious slew of curses you always spew right before you cum.

Plus, the taste, he can’t get enough of you. If you’d let him, he’d stay with his head between your thighs as he laps at your cunt. He sucks on your clit once, his tongue pressing against the sensitive nub as your eyes roll back and a choked moan escapes your throat. Your fingers tangle in his loose curls, pushing him impossibly closer as your thighs clamp around his head. You’re so close, his tongue ravishing you and making you lose yourself in him.

Then he moans…

You cum, your body shaking as he continues his relentless licking and sucking at your clit. You’re not sure how much time passes before your muscles are unclenching and you’re relaxed against the mattress. The wave of pleasure feeling like a haze heavy around you still.

Opening your eyes, you watch as he kisses your right thigh and then your left. Littering your skin with soft wet kisses up your body. Each once feels like fire against your skin, igniting your nerves and drawing all your attention to it. He’s meticulous, something you don’t know if you’re grateful for it or not.

Now, though, you’re grateful for it.

The comedown from this last orgasm is almost too much, without him touching you you’re sure you would fall apart. Each graze of his lips and light touch of his fingers down your arms makes you shiver and cling to him more. He makes it to your lips as his fingers intertwine in yours. He tastes like a hint of you still on his tongue as he slips it in your mouth.

“Baby,” he hums against your lips, “feeling okay?” He grazes your cheek with the back of his fingers, and you lean into the touch.

“So good,” you mumble, closing your eyes again as he cups your cheek.

“Good,” he kisses your lips again softly and lays on his back, pulling you onto his chest and holding you close. “Just want you to feel amazing, sweetheart.”

You smile and close your eyes, snuggling closer to him. “Always do with you,” you kiss his chest as his arm wraps around you.

He’s always so warm after, making it near impossible to keep the conversation going as he speaks. Only a few quiet hums and soft nods are all you can manage, but he doesn’t mind. He loves seeing you like this, all fucked out and clinging to him while he tries to make you laugh and feel safe and warm with him. Even after you’re long asleep, he keeps holding you and admiring how peaceful and happy you look snuggled up against him.

It’s not that you can’t be alone, it’s just that you’d rather not be since moving in with Issei. You look forward to evenings spent together, even if you’re both off doing your own things and not exactly spending time together. It’s the mutual inhabitance that you love so much, and now as you watch him pack for his trip with his friends, you’re realizing you’re going to miss him much more than you expected.

You’re excited for him to visit Argentina with Takahiro and see Tooru after so long, but you can’t help but wish the next seven days away. He kisses your forehead every time he places an item in his suitcase in front of you, making you grin with each one.

“I’ll think about you all the time,” he assures, and you pull him down onto the bed with you. He laughs as he collapses on top of you, kissing your cheeks, moving down to your neck. He grinds his body against yours, his breath teasing your ear. “And I’ll miss doing this.”

His fingers slip under your pajama shorts and into your underwear, rubbing your clit slowly and carefully. You moan and arch your back, your body pressing against his more as your eyes roll back.

“Daddy, please,” you whine, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Use your words, princess, tell me what you need.” He pulls away, his fingers no longer touching your sensitive clit. “I won’t touch you anymore until you ask.”

“Make me cum, please daddy. I don’t care how… I just, I need it!” Your voice is high-pitched and whiny, but you don’t care. You’re desperate for him now more than ever.

“With my fingers, mouth, or are you feeling extra greedy and want my cock?”

It’s not like you’ve never heard him speak like this before, in fact, it’s commonplace for him, but something about it stirs you up inside and makes you warm from the inside out. You feel your cheeks warming and your stomach turning at the thought of any of the options, but you’re greedy.

Oh, so greedy.

Thinking about him is enough to get you riled up, burning between your thighs as you work. You have to take a break just to go sit in your car and calm down to finish the remainder of your shift. It’s only been about four days since he left, making it just past the halfway mark but still seeming ages away before you will get to see him again. Thinking about him during your break only makes it worse.

Can we talk later tonight? I miss your voice.

You know he might not even be up for a few more hours, given the 12-hour time difference. It’s barely 4 in the morning there for him, so you’ll have to catch him later. Your plan to calm yourself down didn’t work; you soon realize as you walk back into work. Your body craves him intensely, way beyond any way you ever imagined it would.

Work drags on entirely too long, making stepping into your home so much better. You’ve already decided you’re not accomplishing any housework before you’ve spoken to your boyfriend tonight. It’s beyond a want at this point; you need to hear his voice tonight. Your phone buzzes just as you set it down on your bed while changing out of your work clothes.

I’m free for the next few hours. Call me whenever you can, sweetheart.

You hurry through taking a quick shower and changing into a big shirt of his. Tossing yourself onto your bed, you roll on your back as you put your phone to your ear. It rings twice before you finally hear the voice you’ve missed oh so much.

“Hi baby, how are you?” He sounds groggy, he must have just woken up.

“I miss you, so much,” you tell him.

He chuckles and you hear the faint sound of a yawn. “I miss you too, more than you know.”

You smile, “what are your plans for today? Anything fun going on all the way across the world?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. We’ll be meeting Tooru after his morning practice to head to the beach to relax as he calls it. Honestly, it’s more like playing beach volleyball and him yelling at us for being out of shape and practice like we don’t have day jobs now and aren’t Olympians.” His laughter makes you feel at ease, your heart swelling with love and longing for him.

“It’s so great hearing you’re having a great time.” You sigh, your core burning the more you hear him talk. “Even though I’ve been missing you, knowing you’re having a great time makes it easier.”

“I want to bring you here soon, show you all the beautiful beaches and really spoil you.” He lets out another long sigh, and you hear something else. The sound of something wet slapping, probably skin.

“Have you been jerking off the entire time we’ve been talking?” Your thighs burn with anticipation of his answer. It’s not that you didn’t think about starting to touch yourself the instant you got on the phone with him, you just have a little more self-control than he does.

“No,” he chuckles then lets out a long moan. “Only the last minute or so listening to your voice.”

You whine, your hand immediately going for the hem of his shirt, lifting it over your body and slipping your fingers into your panties. “Not fair,” you whimper as you circle two fingers around your clit.

“Baby,” his voice melts into a moan, making your thighs shake in response.

You close your eyes and imagine his weight on top of you while you listen to his voice through your phone. If you focus enough, you can almost forget he’s not actually there. “Talk to me, please. I can’t do this without you.”

“Are you touching yourself now, princess,” he asks. “Tell me what you’re doing so I can help you.”

“Mhmm, just rubbing my clit right now daddy,” you tell him as you continue, your back arching off the bed slightly. “Doesn’t feel as good as your fingers.” You wonder if the annoyance in your voice is clear through the phone, your pout obviously not.

“I know baby, but I know you can do it. Just close your eyes and think about my cock slowly rubbing up and down that pretty pussy, okay?” Another moan from him makes you clench around nothing.

“Daddy, I can’t,” you whimper as your slip a finger inside yourself, slowly pumping it in and out. “It’s not enough, I need you, need your cock.”

“My girl can do anything I tell her,” he tells you; his voice becoming more and more stern. “Add another finger,” he orders as if he could read your mind and tell what you’re doing.

You do as he asks, adding your middle finger and moaning softly. It’s not the same, his so much thicker and rougher. Nothing has ever felt the same since you let him touch you so often.

“Is that better, come on tell daddy.”

“Better,” you confirm, your voice whiny.

“Put the phone on speaker and lay it next to your ear, use your other hand to massage your tits, and tease your nipples like I do. Tell me how it feels,” he moans, and you hear the distant sounds of him jerking his cock again.

You lay your phone down, hitting the speaker button and lifting your shirt over your breasts. All the while, telling him as you do. His moans and praises become more forthcoming as you and Issei swap the details of the way you’re touching yourselves and what you want one another to do.

“Wanna cum, please daddy, cum with me, please” you beg through the phone.

“Cum princess, imagine creaming all over my cock,” he moans louder, his voice cracking as he tells you he’s cumming.

Clenching around your fingers, you cum. It’s not nearly as satisfying as it would be around his fingers and definitely his cock, but you enjoy it, nonetheless. You whine and whimper until the feeling oases and you’re left just to clean yourself up while he does the same across the world. Only a few more days, you tell yourself as you wash your hands.

Picking the phone back up, you speak. “Hey, are you back yet?”

“Sure am. I was obviously more prepared for this than you,” he jokes. His laugh warms your chest, making you miss him more.

“Shut up,” you giggle and walk slip on a pair of soft shorts. “I have to make dinner now. I keep making more than necessary. I don’t know how to cook for just one person anymore.”

He laughs and you do as well. “I’ll be home in just a few short days, and then you can cook for me to your heart's content.”

“Only if you promise to fuck me to your heart's content.”

“You got it.”

Honestly, nothing could shock you at this point. Due to storms in Argentina and some bad weather home in Japan, Issei’s flight was delayed not just once; but twice. You’d originally planned on picking him up, but with the change in flights, there was no way you could. You had to go into work, there was no way of getting out of it. It kills you knowing he’s almost home now and will come home without a nice welcome, but there’s nothing you could do.

The walk home is normally not bad, but a street fair only slowed you down a bit. Really, how much time are you going to have to spend just trying to make it home to your boyfriend? The universe clearly thinks a week apart was clearly not enough. It’s like a twisted joke that’s being played on you. Perhaps even a punishment for missing him and being insatiable.

“Babe!” Issei’s voice greets you the second the door opens.

“God, I missed you!” You wrap your arms around him, and he holds you close.

“I missed you, gorgeous girl,” he kisses you softly. “I made dinner since you were working. Want to eat?”

“I’m not hungry for food,” you tell him, and he laughs.

“I have to keep up my end of the deal, don’t I?”

“You certainly took care of my end of it, so why don’t I take care of yours.” You whisper it in his ear, kissing his neck and down his shoulder.

Slipping your hands under his shirt, you pull it over his head and toss it to the side. He gasps as your tongue drags down his chest and stomach. You kiss the growing bulge in his pants, looking up through your lashes and settling comfortably on your knees.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he wraps his hand softly around your neck, never being too rough with you, as he guides you back to your feet. “I’m not spending a second of this time with you teasing me, bend over now.”

You smile and walk across the room to the arm of the couch, bending over and looking back at him. “Like this?”

“You have too much clothing on for my liking.” He tells you, his hands rubbing over your ass before he hooks his fingers in the waistband. “But I can always fix that.”

He practically tears them off you, the fabric slipping off of your legs quicker than you can process it before he’s teasing your entrance.

“This wet already? You must have really missed me.” He teases your puffy lips with the head of his cock before slipping just the head in. “Tell me, baby, how bad did you miss me?”

“Daddy, fuck” you whine as he thrusts into you quickly, breaking up your train of thought. “So much,” you whimper.

You’re not sure if it's that you missed him so much or you feel so full you just whimper it. He bites softly on your shoulder while he pulls you back flush against him while he slowly ruts inside of you. You spasm, your cunt clenching tight around his cock as you cum. You cry out, and he holds you tight, his fingers digging into your hip and throat.

“Already?” He chuckles, kissing your neck and shoulder as he relentlessly pounds into you. “You have such a long night ahead of you then, princess.”

He releases you and lowers you across the arm of the couch. You grip onto the arm holding tight as he fucks into you deeper. Your cries and moans drown out everything else, completely lost in the pleasure as he fucks you senseless. Right as you feel your second orgasm approaching, he pulls out of you.

“No,” you whimper weakly.

“Come on baby, I need to taste you,” he lifts you off the couch, pushing you towards the bedroom as your weak legs shake with each step.

He pushes you back onto the bed, bouncing once as you hit it. You giggle as he kisses your calves, moving up your legs and thighs. He’s incredibly meticulous, paying attention to every inch of you. His lips are warm and wet, making you squirm with each gentle touch.

“Please, you’re tormenting me,” you whine.

“Patience, baby.”

You only whine in response as his hands grip your thighs, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. You try wiggling closer to him, but he holds you tighter.

“I said be patient,” his tone much darker than before.

“Yes sir,” you give in, no longer trying too hard.

His tongue finally slides against your puffy lips, focusing on your clit as you grip his hair and tug. Your moans reach a more desperate and higher pitch as he continues. Issei excelled at many things in life, whether it be business or pleasure he gave it his all. Especially when it came to you.

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Sorry for your loss - “I will move on” #04

Read on AO3 || Serie Masterlist here

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors.

Tag list: @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia / @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5

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Chapter Four - I will move on

"And I guess that's about it." You say as you finish telling Agatha about your last few weeks. She smiles as she shakes her head.

"I have to say I am proud of you." She comments gesturing briefly with her hands. "Are you sure you don't want to add anything else?"

You shrug, unable to remember anything relevant that you haven't mentioned.

You told her about writing again, about trying to drive again. About helping Wanda to stay home without having panic attacks, and to go back to work. You had only managed to drive in the supermarket parking lot, but it was still progress, and Stephen was very happy to hear it about too. The only thing missing to get your life back to normal was your apartment. And you had already arranged with Wanda to visit later that week.

"I have two questions for you then." Agatha says when you confirm that you have nothing to add. "Don't you think it's time to try to reconnect with your friends?"

You hesitate, thoughtfully.

"I don't know." You said slightly uncomfortable. "My friends weren't just mine. They were Nat's friends too. And then she died, and I isolated myself. And well, I guess they were in their own grief too, because none of them tried to look for me anymore."

"You took your time to heal." She says. "Maybe they took theirs too. And now might be the time to reconnect."

You sigh, looking away.

"Yeah, I'll think about it." You speak. You look back at Agatha a moment later. "What was the other question?"

Agatha hides a small smile.

"A sensitive topic for patients who lose their beloved lovers." She says and you frown in confusion. "Well, dear, I need to ask if you are trying to date again?"

You gasp in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

"W-what?"

Agatha lets out a giggle.

"I know this may seem insensitive at first, and that's more because of the sexist socioeconomic construct that treats widowed women as violated property that must belong to their lover for the rest of their lives than anything else but I need you to understand that it's perfectly natural to move on." She narrates and you just stand there with a shocked expression and your heart racing. "You are a single woman now, and you have sexual and emotional human needs. I'm going to help you work through any kind of guilt, because judging your progress, you seem ready to be in a relationship again."

"I...I don't..."

"Don't worry, honey." Agatha interrupts with a giggle. "I'm not telling you to go around fornicating." She jokes. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. But I don't think it's really your style at all."

You feel your face heat up, frowning at Agatha, but she continues to speak.

"Anyway, I'm saying that it will be good if you get back into romantic relationships with other people. Casual encounters, that sort of thing. You are allowed to love someone again, there's nothing wrong with that." She explains getting up toward her own desk, and then gives a mischievous little smile in your direction. "Not to mention that orgasms are great stress relievers."

You choke in surprise, but Agatha just smiles, turning to write the appointment report.

Your face is still very red when you leave her office.

//-//

"I'm going to make a gardener out of you yet, huh?" Monica joked as you finished composting, making you laugh lightly.

"Well, I had a good teacher." You joked back as you stood up.

You were at Wanda's flower shop again. It became routine for you to help Monica with the garden and the flowers. And as the days went by, you got used to being in the greenhouses while she was attending to customers and Wanda was working in the office. It took two weeks for Monica to start joking that you had become a staff member at the flower shop. You don't really mind helping out. Botany has turned out to be something surprisingly relaxing for you. The hours of Wanda's shift passed by quickly when you keep your hands busy with the plants and flowers, your anxiety long forgotten.

"Are you hungry?" Monica asks as soon as you return to the store's front desk, and she pulls out the " break" sign tucked under the counter.

"Sure."

"Let's take a lunch break. See if Wanda wants to join us while I attend that boy." Monica says looking forward toward the window display. There is a boy clearly unsure about whether or not to enter the store and you exchange a chuckle with her before heading towards Wanda's office.

She is on the phone when she answers the door for you, and signals with her finger in her mouth for you not to say anything as she makes room for you to enter. As she mumbles in agreement on the call, you look around. She seems to be working on the organization of some big event judging by the whiteboard in the corner filled with notes, and you figure it's a party or some wedding, because you and Monica have been growing more flowers for this kind of thing lately.

"That sounds pretty good, actually." You listen to her speak as she jots down a few things in an agenda. " Don't worry, we have enough for the engagement party and the ceremony."

The shelf on the side in front of the whiteboard catches your attention, and you walk over to the furniture next.

Wanda moves a little behind you, adding some stickers to the whiteboard. You keep looking at the bookshelf, distracted by the objects on it. There is a picture of the twins that makes you smile, some books, and other small pots of plants. You lightly caress the bonsai before looking down.

You run your fingers over the red flower on Wanda's bookshelf, trying to remember the name. Monica has taught you many things, but you don't know many as well.

"Anthurium" Wanda whispers behind you, as she turns off her cell phone and realizes that you are looking at the flower with curiosity. You murmur in understanding, turning to make comment that it is very beautiful, but your speech dies in your throat when you realize how close Wanda is. "What did you want?" She asks curiously and you are almost leaning your body against the bookshelf, trying to think clearly.

"I-I came to ask if you want to have lunch with us." You say while mentally telling yourself not to look at Wanda's lips.

Wanda murmurs in understanding, and you can barely breathe when she stands even closer, her hand outstretched to something above your head. She pulls out a small stick caught in your hair, and all you can do is stare at her with a racing heart as she bites back a smile, and tosses the stick into one of the vases on the shelf behind you.

"I'd like to join you, but I'm busy." She says and her gaze falls to your lips for a second before she turns her head away and walks off. You let out a breath, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants as Wanda walks toward the table in search of the notepad and pen she was using before hanging up her cell phone. "Can you please bring me something to eat? I'm starving. I just don't know exactly what I want..."

You smile as you see Wanda's thoughtful expression with pen and notebook in hand. You approach, putting the notebook down with your hand gently.

"Don't worry, I know what you like." You say simply, and Wanda blinks in surprise, smiling awkwardly. "I'll stop by that confectionery shop you like and also bring you a dessert, okay? You look stressed."

Wanda laughs lightly, her cheeks flushed.

"Thanks, love."

The nickname slips so naturally from her lips that it takes a moment for both of you to realize what has just been said. Your gaze falls to Wanda's mouth the same minute that her pupils dilate. You are almost breaking the distance when Monica opens the door, not noticing the closeness of the two of you because she has her gaze on a piece of paper in her own hands.

You and Wanda immediately turn away, embarrassed.

"We have a big order, girls." She announces excitedly, raising her eyes to you. Monica frowns slightly at the guilty expressions and reddened faces. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"No." You answer in unison quickly, surprising Monica again, who acquires an expression of suspicion and humor. You clear your throat and Wanda lets out a short laugh.

"We were just talking about lunch." You say. "And well, Wanda has a big order too. I guess you guys will need my help then."

Wanda turns to you again with this statement.

"What? No, I can't make you work for me..."

You interrupt with a laugh.

"Wanda, don't even start." You say. "I love staying here. And I'm happy to help, really. Don't worry about it."

"You sure make my shifts more fun." Adds Monica with a smile, making you laugh. Wanda looks at you intently.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and you smile as you nod in agreement. "We'll talk about it later. You can't work for free, and if you're going to help you need a schedule, and breaks and chores."

You laugh, nodding.

"Yes, boss." You murmur playfully and Wanda pats your arm, making you and Monica laugh.

"Let's get our lunch now, I'm starving." Monica orders as she turns to walk out the door. You murmur in agreement, and quickly kiss Wanda on the cheek before following the other woman. Wanda has a foolish smile on her face until you return with her lunch many minutes later.

//-//

You call Carol Danvers the day before you return to your apartment.

Things go much better than you expected, but it's not surprising, because you usually expect the worst case scenario.

Carol is very happy to hear from you, and you are happy to know that she doesn't hate you for not calling before. You talk for a few minutes, but she can't talk much on the phone because her shift is about to start. You are surprised to learn that she is working in a nightclub downtown now, unlike months ago when she worked in a rock bar in Queens.

She tells you that Bruce was traveling because of his internship, but that he would be in town for the weekend, and invites you to visit her at work. You hesitate because you are not sure if you are ready to go to a club, but you accept as you think of Agatha's words about reconnecting with your friends again.

You are the one who drives to your apartment the next day, after you and Wanda leave the flower shop. Your heart is racing the whole time, but Wanda rests her hand on your thigh to calm you down, and as the minutes go by, you can no longer tell whether you are nervous about the trauma or something else.

Parking in the small condo cluster, you take a deep breath. Wanda gives your thigh one last squeeze before she pulls her hand away and gets out of the car, completely oblivious to the way your entire body trembles at her touch. Shaking your head slightly to push that kind of thought away, you step out of the car.

Your hands are shaking wildly as you take your keys out of your pockets, just as you reach the second floor, after you have politely waved to the people who recognized you on the way to your apartment.

"Hey, breathe." Wanda asks softly beside you. And you take a deep breath, and it helps. And then you turn the key, and go inside.

It is exactly the same as the last time you were here, many months ago, on the day of the accident.

Your mother cleaned it up, of course, but it is still the same. Everything is in the exact same place, even the shoes that Nat left lying in the corner of the bookshelf. And you felt your chest tighten when the flashes of memory began.

You walked around, looking at the surroundings while Wanda followed you. A few tears streamed down your face, but you said nothing.

You were in the kitchen when the first sob escaped your throat. Leaning your hands on the counter, you dropped your keys and tried to push away the memories that were clear in your head.

It was as if you could feel Nat in the room. Seeing her in the armchair, laughing at your jokes, or being a disaster in the kitchen on nights when you tried to eat something homemade. Her books mixed in with yours on the bookshelf, your wedding and graduation pictures on the mantelpiece.

You moved away from the counter quickly, however, as Wanda looked at you intently, unsure whether to approach or not. Walking down the hallway, you stopped in front of your bedroom door.

And you stood there. Long minutes staring at the wood. Unable to move.

Feeling arms around your waist, you sighed, your body relaxing considerably.

Wanda hugged you from behind, and waited. You were crying again, and you only stopped after a while. Taking a deep breath, and lightly stroking Wanda's hand to ask her to let go, you waited for her to let go of you to open the door.

Wanda waited for you outside. You just walked around the room, your face wet as you breathed with difficulty, your arms crossed as if you were afraid to touch anything.

When you came out, you took a deep breath once more. And then you said you needed to call your mother.

That's how you spent the rest of the day packing up your apartment together with Wanda, your mother, and Pietro and Monica, who came to help after Wanda said you needed more people.

You came back the other day too, until the only things left were larger pieces of furniture.

"Are you sure you're going to sell?" Your mother asked you in the parking lot as soon as you left there in the late afternoon. Wanda had just gone home with her brother and sister-in-law.

"That was her apartment, Mom." You say as you put the boxes in the trunk. "I could never live here without Natasha."

"It's a good property." She comments, making you chuckle lightly.

"I'm sure the next owners will love it."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, dear. It's just a nice apartment, not the kind of thing you get every day and..."

"Are you wanting to keep it by any chance?" You interrupt, irritated at your mother's lack of sensitivity. She sighs, and you frown.

"No. But maybe someone else wants to."

It takes a moment for you to understand what she is implying.

"You know Nat didn't talk to her family."

Your mother looks away.

"Actually..." She begins and you close the trunk with a confused expression, "I've been seeing Melina since January."

You blink in surprise, and then let out a dry laugh.

"I am speechless." You say in shock. "You...are you serious? Wow, I...wow."

You lean back against the car, impressed and annoyed. Your mother sighs guiltily, stepping in front of you again.

"Look, I know I should have had something, but you were so..."

"Sad? Yeah mom, my wife died, I had a right to be."

"That's not what I meant."

You sighed, rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, I know." You grumble. "But it sucks that you kept it from me. What the hell does Melina want anyway?"

Your mother looks away for a moment.

"She wanted to see you actually." She says and you let out a wry laugh. "I know how ridiculous it sounds, but her daughter died and you were the only remaining connection to Natasha."

You push your fingers against your forehead lightly, thinking you are starting to get a migraine from this conversation.

"You know what, Mom?" You say. "Since you two have become such good friends lately, tell her that her chance to connect with me was lost the moment she didn't attend the funeral."

Your mother sighs, but you are already turning to get into the car. She follows you a moment later, sitting in the passenger seat.

You drive in silence back home.

//-//

Over the weekend, you almost canceled your plans with Carol.

Your mother was giving you the silent treatment for the way you refused to talk about Natasha and Melina, and you were very irritated by the whole situation.

Grumbling about how ridiculous it all was, you agreed to have coffee with the two women the following week, and your mother's mood changed considerably, the complete opposite of what happened to you.

But you forced yourself to smile, and got up from the couch to get ready.

Around seven-thirty at night, you arrived at the place, which was already very busy, neon lights peeking through the windows along with the loud music.

"My goodness, look at you!" Greeted Carol cheerfully as soon as you met her at the counter. She turned around to hug you tight, and you felt your chest swell with happiness. You had missed your friend so much.

"You got a haircut" You comment in the same excitement, smiling at her. "I missed you, Danvers."

She smiles, mumbling that she missed you too. She asked you to sit on one of the stools at the front of the bar, and you did so while she went back behind the counter.

You updated each other a bit as she served some customers, and a while later, Bruce arrived.

"Banner I can't believe you are wearing a suit in a nightclub." Carol teased as she greeted her friend, making you chuckle slightly as Bruce explained that he didn't have time to look more casual.

"It's good to see you." He said to you as he hugged you, you repeated the words, then sat at the bar.

A few drinks and laughs later, Carol's shift ended, and she sat at a table with you two.

Between telling your friends about your progress in therapy, and hearing how Carol had left her previous job after punching a slacker client in the face, and learning that Bruce was working as an aspiring scientist, and lecturing around the country, the three of you had enough beers for the direction of the conversation to make your cheeks flush.

"I swear to you, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!" Carol told you, making you and Bruce laugh at her excitement.

"Now you're going to say that the next second you saw the next most beautiful woman in the world?" You teased wryly, and Carol laughed as she told you to shut up. "Are you even dating this Gamora girl?"

Carol hid a smirk, taking a sip of her beer.

"Actually." She began. "We're living together."

You widened your eyes in surprise, and then laughed.

"My god, Carol Danvers in love!" You teased making her laugh as she flashed you her middle finger. "No, but seriously, that's amazing! I'm happy for you, Carol."

"Yes, yes." She says smiling, "But what about you? I know you and Nat were like, madly in love or whatever cheesy stuff you put in your books, but it's been months. It would be nice if you met someone new."

The topic is quite sensitive, and the mood at the table changes because of it. But you are far more embarrassed than upset, and you lower your gaze to your bottle before answering.

" Oh, well, i..." You begin half-heartedly. Your stomach does a flip-flop, because you are thinking of a person. "There is someone, I think. But I don't know if we're both ready to take that on yet."

Carol makes an agreeing noise with her mouth, and then has an insinuating little smile on her face.

"Do you still remember how to be with a girl, champ?" your friend teases, and you nudge her shoulder shyly as she and Bruce laugh.

"Aren't those things like riding a bike?" The other man asked timidly, getting a wry look from Carol.

"You know, Bruce, your innocence is admirable." Carol teases making you laugh.

"Don't be mean." You say poking her lightly in the ribs, but Bruce doesn't really care. It's been that way since college when he told you guys he was asexual. The whole thing was funny because Carol has always been very, very sexual. And they have been teasing each other about it for years.

"Ah but I won't be, I promise." She assures. "Actually, I'm much more interested in hearing about your new girlfriend."

You laugh shyly, drinking some of your beer.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Carol laughed, her gaze running around the room before returning to you.

"Well, that blonde girl has been looking over here for a few moments. I have a girlfriend, and Bruce doesn't like sex. I guess you're the one who's going to have to talk to her."

You widened your eyes at your friend's words, looking forward quickly.

A blond woman was indeed staring at your table.

"I don't think that's a good idea." You mumble clumsily, and Carol gives a little laugh.

"That's too bad, because now that you've looked, she's going to come here." Your friend warns, and you choke on your beer when you see the girl actually getting up from the countertop.

"Carol, help me." You awkwardly whisper but your friend just laughs, and then the stranger catches up with you all.

"Hi." She greets sensually, looking up at you. You swallow dryly as your friend holds back a giggle. "Would you like to dance?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words." Carol teased lowly next to you, making the girl laugh at your clumsiness.

"Don't be shy, I don't bite." The girl added maliciously. " Unless you ask me to."

You feel your face heat up with embarrassment, and you spread your mouth open, not knowing what to say next. Carol murmurs impressed.

"Sorry, sweetie, she used to function better than that." Carol interrupts the interaction, taking pity on your distress. "I think she's taken. But if it's just a dance, we can all enjoy it together."

The girl bites her lips, seeming to consider. She takes one last look at you, and then accepts the invitation.

This is how you end up on a dance floor, trying to escape the hands of a stranger.

You remember how to dance, and the drink helps a lot. But there are hands running over your body before the woman turns around and starts rubbing against you in rhythm with the music. You feel your breath catch, the excitement of having so much intimate contact after so long reaching you completely.

"Are you sure you're taken?" She whispers against your ear, and you give a short laugh, feeling your head spin.

"Yes." You half-heartedly assure her, using all the rest of your drunken control to push her hands away from you.

The woman didn't mind, stealing a short kiss on your cheek before dancing away, swaying her hips.

Carol threw her arms around you next.

"Wow, you really are in love!" She enthusiastically shouts to be heard between the beats of the music. You laugh with flushed cheeks, saying you need to take some air.

Your friend continues to dance, pulling Bruce close, and the man laughs awkwardly as he puts his arms around the blonde. You chuckle at the scene before turning to go outdoors.

It is easier to breathe outside.

Your first action is to take your cell phone out of your pocket, and check your notifications. Your heart melts when you open a message from Wanda. It is a picture of her and the boys, lying together between a comforter. The caption reads "movie night, doesn't even look like they were jumping on the couch two minutes ago".

You stare at the picture for a few seconds after sending a heart emoji to Wanda. And then you gasp softly, realizing. You really are in love with her. Like in romance movies, and fairy tale books. But also like the real thing. Because you love Wanda's company, her sharp jokes, the way she talks and behaves and cares for everyone. You don't want to be in a bar, or meet another girl. You want to be wrapped in a comforter with Wanda and the kids.

Trying not to panic at this conclusion, you put your cell phone back in your pocket, deciding to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends.

//-//

You are trying to find a way to tell Wanda how you feel. The problem is that you are insecure, because you have no idea if she is ready for a relationship again. You don't even know if she likes women.

With so much suffering in the past months, you also don't want to face a broken heart. So you decide to wait and see how things will turn out.

It is something about the way your life is completely intertwined in Wanda's now, in the same way that she has wrapped herself around your heart that makes you sigh when you think about it everything.

You are distracted while you work, and Monica smiles because you have a smirk while tinkering in the gardens, which is clearly not related to the plants. She doesn't say anything, because it's the same way Wanda smiles when you bring her coffee, or when you two come back from lunch. She can only be excited to think how it will be to organize your wedding.

It is at lunch after group therapy that Wanda invites you to her father's wedding anniversary party. You hadn't met him yet, and a party was a good thing, because you wouldn't have all his attention on you, and it lessens your anxiety considerably.

The party will be at Wanda's father's country house, and you will be able to cross the "take a trip" goal off your therapy to-do list.

In the meantime, you prepare to see Natasha's mother.

It is a Thursday, and you set aside your lunch period for this, because you really don't want this meeting to last more than an hour.

Your mother and Melina are already in the restaurant when you arrive, and you nod politely to the woman when you sit down at the table, signaling that she doesn't need to get up.

"So, what did you want?" you ask snidely, earning a scolding from your mother. Melina doesn't seem to mind your aggressiveness however.

"Let's order something to eat first please." Your mother says before the other woman can respond. You roll your eyes, not disagreeing.

After the waitress takes your orders and leaves, you cross your arms impatiently.

"Look, I know it's hard for you to hear from me after all this time..." The woman begins.

"Hard for me?" You cut her off with irony. "No, Melina. I was not the daughter you abandoned. It was just hard for Nat not to have you around. I simply don't like you myself."

"Honey" Your mother warns, but you let out a dry laugh.

"No, really." You continue firmly. "What do you really want with me?"

Melina sighs, straightening herself in her chair.

"Your mother told me that you intend to sell Natasha's apartment." She says. "I don't approve of such a decision."

You stare at her for a moment, and then let out a laugh.

"I should have known you'd only show up for the money." You say feeling your stomach turn with anger. Melina rolls her eyes, but doesn't deny it. Your mother looks surprised that you are right.

"I gave that apartment to Natasha..."

" I beg your pardon?" you interrupt angrily, your loud tone attracting the attention of the next table. "You gave her the apartment? Are you listening to yourself now?"

"We don't need to get carried away." She asked with irritation in her eyes, drawing a nasal laugh of indignation from you. "You know I'm right."

"No, Melina." You retort seriously, lowering your tone. "Clarify for me how you can possibly think that putting an apartment full of debt in your daughter's name to escape the state, making her work two shifts to pay for everything, sets up like giving an apartment to someone?"

"You are manipulating the facts." She hits back and you nod in disbelief, closing your eyes momentarily. "I had financial problems, and Nat didn't object when I suggested..."

"She was 15." You cut in. "You forgot that little detail right? You also forgot about going to the guardianship board to emancipate your 15 year old daughter just so she could take on a debt of yours?" You asked angrily. "Oh, did you forget about Nat working in a diner throughout her teenage years to pay for everything?"

Melina clenched her jaw, glaring at you angrily. You really weren't in the least bit of patience for this conversation, and it was a good thing the waitress arrived with your orders, because you were about to turn the table.

"I am not hungry anymore." You grumble as soon as the waitress leaves and you look down at your food, your stomach turning. Then you look forward. "When I sell the apartment, I will talk to your lawyer and if you are entitled to anything, you can rest assured that it will come in the mail. Now do me a favor, and never look for me again."

After saying these words to Melina, you exchange a quick glance with your mother and get up, walking to the exit.

//-//

You are pretty upset about the whole Melina thing, but your mood improves almost immediately when Wanda invites you to visit her.

Actually, she needs help with the kids, because she's busy with a rich lady's wedding that required priority on the flower project, and the summer vacation started that week.

Monica was helping Wanda with the whole design, so you and Pietro would take care of the kids.

It was quite fun to do it, because you loved children. Pietro even had the bright idea of setting up a little lemonade stand outside Wanda's house, and while the other women were working, you and he took the kids outdoors.

"Don't you think a million dollars is a lot of money for a glass of lemonade, Billy?" you ask the boy as you watch him put several zeros on the price cardboard. Pietro laughs as he helps his daughter pin up her hair.

"I don't know." The kid tells you without stopping drawing. "I'm a kid, I've never paid anything."

You laugh, looking forward. You and Pietro are sitting on chairs placed on the grass while the children play around the lemonade stand.

When some of the neighbors buy the lemonade, you tell Billy that a gold coin is worth a million, and he doesn't argue.

The temperature rises considerably throughout the day, and around two in the afternoon you and Pietro decide that it would be good to take the kids swimming.

"Call the wives please." Pietro says to you as you stand in the living room after you two walk back in and put everything away, and he is helping the children put on bathing suits. You feel your face heat up at the innocent insinuation of Wanda being your wife, but you say nothing and he doesn't even seem to notice.

You knock on the door, then enter the office, and smile at the two women inside, who seemed to be concentrating on their own papers.

"Let's go for a quick swim girls?" You ask, ignoring the way your stomach gets butterflies when Wanda looks up at you.

Monica lets out an excited exclamation.

"Yes, please!" She says. "This room feels like an oven!"

You and Wanda laugh, and you make room for Monica to walk past you.

"Any chance you have a bathing suit in my size?" You ask Wanda next, and she bites back a smile, thoughtful.

"Let 's find out."

//-//

It is only upstairs that you realize that you have never been in Wanda's bedroom before.

All the times you have been here, you were reserved for the living room, the kitchen and the office. Except for the times you were in the twins' bedroom, and well, when you used the bathroom.

You stood still a bit past the entrance, not knowing exactly what to do with your hands as Wanda searched the closets for a bathing suit for you.

"You know you can look around right?" Wanda commented with playfulness in her speech, making you chuckle shyly.

Stepping forward, you twiddled your fingers together nervously as you looked around. You smiled at the decorations, and especially at the pictures on the dresser.

"Damn, I think I only have one pair." Wanda grumbled as she closed the closet, turning to you next, a swimsuit in her hands. "Do you want to wear it?"

You smiled wryly.

"Not if it's the only one you have." You say. "Don't worry, I'll keep my T-shirt on."

"Don't be silly, it's really hot outside. I'll lend you a bra."

Wanda leaves her swimsuit on the bed and walks over to the dresser behind you. You step aside to give her room to open the drawers.

You look quickly away from the underwear drawer, feeling your heart race at the intimacy of this moment. It only gets worse when Wanda hands you a black sports top, which she is glad to have found.

"Thank you, Wands." You mutter as you accept the garment.

You widen your eyes as Wanda begins to unbutton the shirt she is wearing, but before you have a heart attack, she flashes you a small smile and picks up the swimsuit from the bed, turning toward the bathroom as she uses her free hand to keep the shirt closed.

You take advantage of Wanda's exit to quickly take your shirt off, put on the top and then the T-shirt over it.

A moment later she returns, and your breath catches in your throat.

"This swimsuit has a tie in the back, can you help me with that?" Wanda asks distractedly as she tucks her hair into a bun. You swallow dryly, trying to keep your gaze off her exposed legs.

Wanda stands facing the dresser, watching you approach through the mirror. You ignore your uncompensated heartbeat as you stare back at her, and let out a shy smile as you lower your gaze when you notice her flushed cheeks as you stand right behind her.

Raising your fingers to the height of her back, you gently touch the skin exposed by the opening of her swimsuit. The contact makes every inch of the woman's skin shiver in front of you, and she sighs softly, the sound making your stomach turn.

You risk looking forward again, at your reflection, only to find Wanda's mouth ajar, her eyes dark. You risk dragging your fingers further inside the fabric, making her choke lightly.

Completely mesmerized by the way Wanda's body responds to your touch, you raise your other hand, trailing a finger up from the length of her coccyx to the opening of her swimsuit, watching Wanda close her fists as her cheeks redden.

You can hear the sounds of her uncompensated breathing, but you can also hear the muffled laughter from the distance downstairs, and that motivates you enough to ignore the trembling of your fingers as you zip up Wanda's swimsuit.

"W-we should go downstairs." You whisper in a hoarse voice, ignoring the urge to rip off Wanda's swimsuit.

The redhead swallows dryly before slowly turning toward you. Your faces are so close that you can feel her breath on your cheek.

"I..."

"Mommy why are you taking so long?" Billy's muffled scream coming from the backyard through the window makes you and Wanda jump in fright.

Pietro and Tommy repeat the same sentence next, and you clear your throat, taking a step back. Wanda can't keep her gaze on you as you both walk down to the pool outside.

You can only distract yourself from the feel of Wanda's skin on your fingers because you play in the pool with everyone, and these thoughts are pushed to the back of your mind for the rest of the afternoon.

It is only when you have to leave, after the children have had a bath, and are dressed in comfortable clothes in front of the television, and you have hugged Monica and Pietro goodbye that these thoughts come flooding back when you have to repeat the gesture with Wanda.

You disguise yourself, smiling politely at the couple standing behind the redhead as you let your arms circle her waist as you hug her. Resisting the urge to close your eyes and sink your face into Wanda's neck, who has her hands on your shoulders, you hold back a sigh as you pull away.

"See you on Monday." You murmur in a husky voice, and the redhead nods, her gaze falling quickly to your lips.

You think you'd better get in the car before you lose control of your body.

//-//

Startled slightly, you opened your eyes with difficulty. Someone was calling you, but it must have been very late, because you couldn't see anything in the room but the blinking light on your dresser.

Grumbling, you stretched your arm out to reach for your vibrating cell phone and answer the call.

"Hello?" you asked in a voice hoarse from sleep, closing your eyes again.

"Hey, sorry to wake you." It was Wanda, and her whiny voice made you open your eyes quickly, worried.

"Wanda? Did something happen?"

"Yeah." She agrees, sniffling softly. "I just... I'm so sad. The whole fucking time. Then Tony came over and started saying these things and now I'm crying and I can't stop. I'm sorry, it's not your problem, I shouldn't have called and..."

"I'm coming."

You think Wanda tried to say something to stop you, but you ended the call as you stood up.

"Where are you going?" Your mother asked as soon as you came downstairs, and you were startled to find her awake, but you didn't ask as you noticed the laptop in your lap.

"Wanda." You mumble simply, looking for your keys.

"Kitchen countertop." She informed and you muttered a thank you as you picked up the item from the mentioned spot. "You know, if you're going to start leaving the house at dawn to see her, it might be best to move in with her."

You chuckled awkwardly at the comment as you put on your shoes.

"Try to get some sleep, work will still be there in the morning." You tell her to change the subject, and your mother sighs, turning her attention back to the screen. "You don't have to wait up for me."

"Oh, I figured." She teases last making you roll your eyes in embarrassment before opening the door to leave.

//-//

You didn't have to knock on the door, because as soon as you parked the car and got out, you had a view of the outside garden porch, and you could see Wanda sitting on the rocking bench, looking at the ground.

You sighed, opening the garden gate to enter the backyard.

Making a noise with your feet so as not to startle her, you felt your heart squeeze as she wiped her tears away quickly, turning her head to the side. You sighed, taking a seat on the bench in front of her, rocking it slightly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked a moment later, and from the redhead's silence, you figured not. But she nodded next, looking down at her own feet. "Tell me what happened then."

It takes a moment, but Wanda speaks. She tells how Tony Stark showed up at her door at three in the morning, saying that he blamed himself for his brother death but that this was a good thing now because it was exactly what he needed to change his life and stop drinking, and that she punched him in the nose, saying that this was always his problem, everything was always about him. Tony promised that he would be someone decent now, that he was going to change, and Wanda just pushed him away, telling him to go change somewhere else.

"I feel like the worst person in the world right now." She grumbles as soon as she finishes narrating.

"Why?"

"Tony has been an alcoholic since he was fifteen, and he's finally getting better. I think he was in need of someone to help him."

You shook your head, letting out a short laugh.

"And why is that your problem?" you retorted, surprising her. "Wanda you are under no obligation to suppress your feelings to make others feel better. You have every right to feel angry with Tony. And to not want him in your life again."

Wanda takes a deep breath, burying her face in her hands for a moment, as if trying to believe your words.

You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding whether to speak what you wanted to.

"Wands?" You called after her, and she looked at you. "You said you were sad. Do you want to talk about that too?"

The redhead looks away from you, a weak smile on her lips.

"I don't know how to talk about it really." She starts by looking down at her feet. "I never did."

You wait, stretching your leg out and lightly tapping your feet together with her on the floor. Wanda smiles at the movement, and then bites her lips.

"I think it started when I was a kid." She counters thoughtfully, her gaze straying to the yard around her. "Ever since mama died, or maybe before. There's this sadness, stuck in my chest. And no matter what I do, it won't go away."

You listen intently, waiting for Wanda to finish.

"When I was younger, Papa worked all day and Mama took care of me and Pietro. But she got sick, and granny came to live with us to help. I was ten when she died, and Pietro's anxiety got worse." She swallows dryly, as if the memories are choking her. "Granny didn't know how to help my brother, so I took care of him myself. And when we were in high school, she got sick too. And well, Dad didn't know what to do really, so I took care of her at home while he and Pietro worked to pay for the medications." She adds, and sniffles lightly. "I just remember being tired. All the damn time. I'd go to school, and come home, and I'd eat, and play, and watch TV, but I wasn't really there. I started to think that's how everybody else felt, because I had a normal life, and I had no reason to feel sad."

You frown slightly, but bite your tongue to keep from interrupting.

"Grandma died just before I graduated, and I barely had time to miss her, busy with college applications, and taking care of the funeral at the same time." She counters with a wry laugh, as if realizing how unfair it was that she was left to take care of everything by herself. "And then I met Vis, and he was sweet and kind and he was everything anyone could want. The perfect boyfriend, perfect friend, and brother and husband. So I choked down that sadness, because it wasn't fair that I was with someone so amazing, and I wasn't satisfied." She recounts as she lets the tears flow. "When the twins came, everyone told me that my life was complete. That children were exactly what everyone wanted, and that I had the perfect life. So I kept that image."

Wanda raises her hand to wipe away a tear that ran down her cheek, but others kept falling next.

"With Vis's death, everything started to fall apart on me." She says after a pause, biting her lips slightly to hold back the crying. She lets out a nasal laugh next. "But I wasn't going to let that happen, so I gathered the pieces together. I put a smile on my face and continued to be the mother my children needed. And then I met you."

You frown in confusion, but Wanda does not look at you. She runs her hands through her hair, shaking her head slightly.

"You came into my life at its worst possible moment. And all you did was make me feel better again." Wanda declared with a sigh, and you felt your cheeks heat up, looking away to your feet. "You don't expect me to be happy, or polite, or sociable. You don't care that I get cranky and irritable, that I wanted to skip work or eat junk food." She counters, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I feel like I can breathe again, because when you look at me you don't judge me like everyone else. You just listen, and observe. And take care of me."

You sigh, impacted by the intensity of the confessions. You think that if you keep quiet long enough, Wanda can hear your heart beating fast.

The redhead takes a deep breath, twisting her fingers slightly before speaking again.

"That's why I called." She counters in a sigh. Her eyes fill with tears again, but she doesn't let them fall. "You've been the only person who makes me feel this way. And when Tony came along I felt I was drowning into those terrible thoughts again. I needed you to pull me back up."

You raise your head to Wanda, but she is looking down at the floor, her cheeks flushed. You smile, rising to sit beside her.

"I will." You whisper as you interlace your fingers, looking forward. Wanda stares at your entwined hands before leaning her head on your shoulder.

"Thank you." She murmurs a moment later.

"Don't mention it." You reply in the same tone.

You stand like this for many minutes, Wanda wiggling your fingers together. You are about to close your eyes when a childish voice startles you a little.

"Mommy?" it's Billy, dressed in adorable teddy bear pajamas, scratching his eyes sleepily. "Why are you out here?"

Wanda looks at him in surprise.

"Come here dear." Wanda asks signaling with her free hand for Billy to approach. The boy yawns, walking over to you two. You mess up his hair as Wanda releases her hand to sit her son on her own lap.

"Why are you here, Y/N?" The boy asks sleepily, making you and Wanda smile at how cute he looks.

"I am a friend of your mother's, Billy, I come whenever she needs me." You reply with a smile, trying not to be affected by the way Wanda looks at you.

"You should come more often, y/n. Mom is happy when you are around." Billy declares causing Wanda to let out a surprised exclamation, and you feel your heart race.

"Oh, really?" You tease with a little smile, and Wanda pushes her shoulder against yours lightly. "I promise I'll visit more often then."

"You can live here!" Billy exclaims excitedly next, making you laugh in surprise.

"Don't be silly, Billy." Wanda adds embarrassed. "We don't have a room."

"She can sleep with you mommy." Billy retorts as if it's obvious, "Daddy's not here anymore, and your bed is too big, because it fits Tommy and me together!"

You swallow dryly, surprised and embarrassed at the way Billy is casual above all, but mostly worried that this comparison might have hurt Wanda. But she lets out a little laugh, shaking her head.

"It's time for bed, enough of this talk" Wanda warns the boy next, getting up with him on her lap.

You accompany the two of them into the house, waiting until Wanda comes downstairs after putting Billy to bed.

Billy's words in your head were still echoing when Wanda suggested that you sleep in her bed after she came downstairs, and part of you wanted to, but you figured that night wasn't the best time. So you slept on the couch, and left after breakfast, ignoring how warm your chest felt at the image of the table with Wanda and the twins having coffee.

//-//

Your first stop after leaving Wanda's house was the cemetery.

Taking a deep breath, you stared at the memorial stone in the ground. The small photograph of Natasha carved into the stone.

"I miss you, pchelka" You whispered softly, leaving your hands in your pockets as you looked down. Your chest hurt less than the first time you came here, but the pain was still there. You imagined that it always would be. "I won't ever stop. But I want to live again. I hope you won’t be mad at me, from wherever you are, and understand that."

Part of you knew that Natasha would be happy for you. It was one of the reasons you loved her so much.

Kneeling down, you pulled out of your pocket the items you had left in the car's glove box a few days ago, planning to do this since the day of the bar.

" This belongs to you." You whispered, after digging in the grass next to the headstone, and pulling out of the small wrapping your wedding rings. You placed the metal in the dirt, along with the daffodil seeds you brought with you. Using some of the water from the bottle you had in your hands, you watered after burying the items. "Rest in peace, my love."

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x yn #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #sorry for your loss

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teklarn · 3 years

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽.4)

character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (x eijirou kirishima)

a/n: y’all it makes me so happy how many people like my work oh my gosh i’m so motivated when enthusiasm shows tytyty <33

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 !!

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.

genre: angst

warnings: mutual pining, cussing, aged-up to third years, love triangle, romantic tension, one-sided pining, jealousy, toxic kirishima (ok but like he’s hot tho), slowburn romance, not proofread

word count: 2423

- - -

part 3 , part 5

you twiddled your thumbs in front of the poster. a halloween party? next month? it’d come as a surprise how fast the holiday was coming up.

your stomach filled with butterflies, however, it sunk when you remembered what had happened last night.

the little fight you had with kirishima. how it seemed like he suddenly hated bakugou, who was one of his best friends. you didn’t want to believe that kirishima could have had feelings for you. perhaps he was just protecting you.

you sighed. you truly didn’t want to fight with either of them. maybe kirishima was right. he did know bakugou better than you, but to your knowledge, bakugou had never had a relationship.

maybe kirishima was trying to say that bakugou would be toxic in the sense that he would never pay attention to you. perhaps he would be too focused on becoming the number one hero.

whatever. it didn’t matter now.

the poster listed that it was going to be a costume party, and dressing up was mandatory. you were good friends with mei hatsume from the support group, so she would be going all-out for the season. you wondered if she’d be able to whip something up for you, too.

you had a few minutes left before class started, surely she should be available for a little bit of chatter. besides, mei hatsume never turned down a new project.

turning, you started your way to the support classrooms just to be stopped, come face-to-face with the one person you’d been trying to avoid all day. “i don’t want to talk right now, kirishima,” you snapped. perhaps you were being a bit harsh, but he was the one trying to control you, was he not?

“then don’t talk, y/n. i’ll talk.”

you shoved past him, clutching your books to your chest. “no.”

“just hear me out, okay? last night was...i didn’t mean to seem-”

“seem what? possessive? rude? like an overprotective, jealous boyfriend?”

“in no way was i trying to come across as any of those, trust me y/n.”

you continued on your way to the support classes only to find him standing before you again. You sighed, tightening your grip around your books. “what.” you commanded him, you didn’t ask.

kirishima let out a sigh of his own, letting his arms fall to his sides. “can we just...talk? we’re friends, and we’ve always communicated well with each other.”

“communication was out of the question yesterday, wasn’t it?” you attempted shoving him away to continue on your way, but he caught your shoulder, finger pads digging into your skin possessively.

“please, y/n.”

you looked down your nose at him. “fine. say what you so badly want to get out.”

“listen, i-”

the bell rang, and students went rushing back into their classrooms. you shrugged, victorious. “looks like the bell isn’t on your side either, kirishima.”

you heard him sigh in defeat, but did not look back.

---

there was something about the way kirishima was suddenly looking at you that bakugou didn’t like. at all. his pencil snapped in his grip, chips of wood and led flying into the air.

speaking of kirishima, what was up with him lately? everything was suddenly about you. he was always around you. sure, throughout the years, you two had gotten closer, but kirishima looked just about ready to abandon bakugou’s ass on the side of the road.

as usual, aizawa would be a bit late. in about ten minutes, the man would come wandering in, bags hanging low under his eyes, and instruct the lesson before falling back into his much-needed slumber.

that was when bakugou would interrogate kirishima. but first, he needed to talk to you. needed to be sure he was on the winning side before anything happened between kirishima.

bakugou walked over to your desk, tugging at your sleeve to get your attention.

“hm?” you looked up from your notebook. “yes, bakugou? do you need something?”

“yeah,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. “you saw the poster too, right? the one about that stupid dance.”

“well, i don’t think it’s stupid. it looks fun! don’t you think?”

he drowned himself in your eyes. “mhm.”

“so, did you still need something?”

“got any costume ideas in mind?”

you feigned surprise. “katsuki bakugou? are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

he licked his lips. gosh, the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded the way honey tasted. “don’t push it.” he grinned. “still considering it.”

“well, if you’re thinking of going, you definitely should. i’m buying tickets with mina and kaminari if you’d like to tag along.”

“tag along?” he let out a breathy chuckle. “i’ll be the star of the show if i ‘tag along’, you got me?”

you gave him a side smile. “mhm. but you do realize how hectic it’s gonna be there, right? i mean, you’ve got to pick something that...pops, y’know?” your fingers sprung out to add emphasis.

“whether i wear some stupid costume or not, i’m still going to be the star of the show. you got that?”

you knew he was only teasing. if it’d been the bakugou from before, he would have most likely meant it, however, you knew how he openly teased you now. strangely, it was only you who he was so open with.

bakugou smirked, leaning down to raise your chin with his fingers. “i’ll go if you go.”

he had your heart pacing rapidly. “mhm.”

“use your words.”

“yes, i think i’ll go.”

“you think?” he taunted.

“i will go.” you cleared your throat. “bakugou.”

“good.” his gentle fingers let go of your chin and he wandered back to his desk, eyeing you from there for a moment before flicking open a textbook and reading.

you diverted your eyes back to your notebook, hands shaking as you wrote down the date. you scribbled down your name three times in the top right corner just to look busy.

adjusting your elbow, you did your best to make it look like you were merely leaning your cheek on your hand in a bored manner. gosh. you could still feel his eyes burning into you, demanding. serious. gorgeous and blood red.

kirishima was right about you having feelings for bakugou. however you sat there conflicted for a little while.

bakugou had just approached you in a similar manner as kirishima. did kirishima..?

no, you two were only friends.

you shook your head, still doing your best to conceal the stupid grin crossing your cheeks.

everyone knew that telling other people if you were just friends with someone after they asked, one person had feelings for the other at least. it was another thing asking yourself that.

- - -

it was just a week before the dance, and you still had yet to choose a costume. mina and kaminari had offered you a few of the costumes she’d worn at previous halloween parties, but none had appealed to you.

you wanted something fresh. wanted something that you’d feel like you would have fun in.

“wouldn’t dressing up as a pirate be really, i don’t know. i just feel like it’d be super super hot in the gym.”

mina rolled her eyes. “well duh, you look hot in everything, y/n.”

you scoffed. “thanks, but i’m not sure about that.”

“kirishima seems to think so,” kaminari teased from inside the change room. all three of you were currently at a thrift store trying to find matching costumes.

you rolled your eyes, disregarding the fact he couldn’t see. “don’t bring him up. please.”

“what happened between you two?” mina asked, slipping the costume back onto its hanger. she slipped it back into its spot on the rack and began sifting through new clothes. “you guys just suddenly stopped talking.”

you shrugged. “he’s just been...off lately. you know? i don’t know how else to explain it. but ever since that incident where he broke bakugou’s nose-”

kaminari peaked out from the curtain, jaw dropping. “he broke bakugou’s nose?”

you waved him off. “yes, now let me finish. kirishima did this thing where he just...he acted all protective in private and then tried to apologize for it the next day. he kept telling me stuff like bakugou wasn’t good for me and everything.”

mina blinked, jaw dropping to the floor. “honey, what?”

she and kaminari exchanged shocked glances before she popped a hip out and put her fist to it.

“bestie, honey. you really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

you let out an exasperated breath. “he told me that, too! he pinned me to the wall and was like, oh, you’re so oblivious.” you imitated his voice, puffing out your chest to mock his stockiness.

“baby, baby! do you hear yourself?” mina shook you, taking you by your shoulders. “what the heck? are you blind? he’s down bad for you!”

“bad? if he had feelings for anyone, not just me, i think kirishima would be a little more considerate.”

“but it’s bakugou,” kaminari chirped in. “he knows he won’t win if he doesn’t get you now.”

“please, bakugou doesn’t win at everything.”

mina raised an eyebrow. “but you already have feelings for bakugou, so technically he’s already winning.”

you pursed your lips. “i guess, but if kirishima really had romantic feelings for me, he’d be less of an ass about it.”

“is he going to the dance?” kaminari closed the curtain, rustling around to change back into his clothes once more.

“i’m pretty sure.” you began sifting through clothes with mina. “bakugou said he’d go if i went. so i’m guessing kirishima is going to be there, too. bakugou and he are never apart.”

mina slapped her thigh in disbelief. “do you hear yourself, babes?” she wore a stupid grin. “i haven’t seen those two together since...i don’t know, not for the past month. they’re fighting over you, whether you realize it, whether they realize it.”

kaminari let out a false moan. “oh to have those two fighting over me.” he came out of the change room dressed in his own clothes.

“did the costume not fit?” mina asked.

“my fat ass is too fat for it. i’m too hot to be a pirate.” he posed, mimicking aoyama.

“your ass is flatter than a pancake, kaminari.”

you chuckled, but couldn’t help thinking about what mina was saying. as your two friends began chatting away, you lost yourself in your thoughts.

the three of you sat down for dinner at a cheap restaurant. mina and kaminari had bought a matching costume set, and you were still left without one. the two had left for the bathroom, leaving you sipping your own drink alone.

your chest sank into your stomach when a familiar head full of red, the roots beginning to darken, stepped into the restaurant. he ordered what you’d guessed.

he waited for the meal to be prepared for take out, rocking back and forth on his heels and whistling softly.

thankfully, you felt someone rest a hand on your shoulder. you turned, expecting to see kaminari or mina attempting to save you. instead, you found a strange man. he looked to be around your age. you vaguely recognized his face. perhaps you’d seen him around yuuei before.

uncomfortable, you shoved his hand off. “please go away.”

kirishima blinked slowly when his eyes found you. you did not attempt to hide your annoyance.

you wanted to tell both of them to go away as the man started flirting with you. it should be expected. this wasn’t the best place to be hanging out, either.

you heard footsteps rushing up, and soon, a hand clamped around your wrist. you cried out as kirishima pulled you out of your seat.

“do you have an issue?” he demanded, eyes boring into the man’s.

the man licked his lips. “you seem like you have an issue, here.” his words slurred grossly. “we were over here minding our own business.”

“they don’t want it.” kirishima snapped.

“kirishima, i can handle this myself. you tried to shove off his grip. he let go, knowing that this wasn’t truly how he wanted to approach you.

“see?” the man said. “they’re fine.”

“get out of here.”

“kirishima, what’re you-”

the man put his hands up in surrender and wandered out.

you pushed kirishima back. “what the hell?”

“fine. be mad at me, but he was invading your space.”

your brow furrowed. “you’re one to talk! do i need to put some kind of restraining order on you? you keep following me everywhere.”

“not anywhere! this was a coincidence.”

you shook your head. “it’s pointless trying to argue with you. you’re so toxic!”

kirishima tongued the inside of his cheek. “think what you want, y/n. i could see you were uncomfortable, anyway.”

“no, kirishima. i don’t need your saving. i don’t need you to swoop in and pretend like you’re my hero. you’re not. don’t talk to me again unless you’ve grown the hell up.”

as if on queue, the bell rang and kirishima’s packaged dinner was presented in a paper bag. he gave you a good, long hard stare before taking his dinner and leaving.

your chest heaved with anger. you wanted to make him angry. if he felt romantic feelings towards you, you wanted to make him jealous.

you gave mina and kaminari a text that you’d be going home early. it was only a half-lie. you ran to hatsume’s dorm and knocked loudly. she opened the door without hesitation and grinned widely at the sight of you, already knowing you needed something.

kirishima was obviously so damn jealous of bakugou, wasn’t he? mina was right. he wouldn’t be able to compete. and you were going to make sure he knew that.

the blaring lights, the music louder than bakugou’s explosions. students disguised as their favorite characters.

it was hectic, you were right about that.

kirishima stood beside him. they’d both decided to dress in their hero costumes. the tension between them was still unspoken. they felt like strangers.

their eyes scanned the crowd, and bakugou’s landed on you first, kirishima following closely after.

he couldn’t help the warm, victorious feeling in his chest as he glanced to the side at kirishima’s expression.

kirishima’s chest caved in. you’d dressed in...who had made it?

“they’re dressed as...you,” he said, aghast.

bakugou grinned, watching you dance under the lights in your own rendition of his hero costume, that orange x crossing your chest oh-so-nicely.

- - -

tags: (if you want to be tagged in future parts, let me know!!)

@heizenka @misssugarless

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