#back then I didn’t know what I needed to do but I should have known already but I didn’t cause she was so effing dumb

[ramhaiba]

𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

Masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT a/n: this fic is a lot darker than normal of my work contains: noncon sexual themes, manhandling, breaking up, biting, oral (f receiving), baby trapping, modern au

The truth is, you should have broken up with Satoru Gojo a long time ago. Two years ago, the thought of even considering taking a break from Satoru would have sent you into a coma. Why wouldn’t you want to be known as ‘Satoru's girl?’ Being with a guy like him would cause no one to dare look at you in the wrong way. 

Besides, he buys you things that cost more than your rent, and will refuse if you dare to give it back to him because you ‘don’t need such expensive things.’ 

So what exactly is wrong with dating Satoru?

Obsession. 

“You’ve been spending so much time with your friends...sometimes I think you forget who your boyfriend is”

“Jealous? Me? Baby, it’s only because I care about you”

“You know I don’t like it when you’re away, it hurts me. Do you want to hurt me, Y/n?”

“You look great in that dress. But I feel like I should be the only person to see you in it. Why don’t you go change so you don’t embarrass me” 

And the list goes on and on...and on…

If it wasn’t his words that would send you to this point, his constant touching, rubbing, groping, and kissing in public just to scare any guy in your five-mile radius away was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. 

The final straw is when you heard furious knocking on your door, knocking so loud that you could have sworn that whoever was behind it would just kick it down, surprised that you could hear it with the storm outside. Unlucky for you, you were middle of a shower, not expecting to be bothered in the middle of the night. You were forced to wrap a towel around your torso, covering your chest to your upper thighs, and rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You slowly open the door for your boyfriend,  his chest heaving as the rain pours down on his white hair. 

“Satoru- wh-what’s wrong.” you stuttered, clenching the towel wrapped around your body.

“Bastard ” he muttered, stepping inside, letting his wet footprints stain your floors. 

“What? Satoru, why are you even here- it’s late” you questioned, in disbelief. 

“Tell me-tell me that he didn’t fuck you, Y/n. Please” Satoru begged, his hands gripping your shoulder as he forced you to the wall, blue eyes without a trace of sanity.

“Wh-what the fuck are you talking about “ you yelped, unaware of what put your boyfriend into such a manic episode.  

“Is he still in the house? Huh? He is right?” Satoru started laughing, his head leaning into the crook of your neck, 

God- at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he bit your neck off.

“Satoru, you’re starting to scare me. Please just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you” you responded, trying to caress his face, only for him to pin your hands above your head. 

“Nanami, you’re fucking him, right? Suguru saw bring you to your house. Holding hands or some shit. Looking too friendly” Satoru hissed, just the thought of you being touched by hands that didn’t belong to him sent waves of fury into him. 

You didn’t even question why Suguru was watching you when he had no reason to be in your area- 

Thinking back at it, you wondered if Satoru begged asked Suguru to watch you while he was too busy to do it himself. 

“Nanami only came over because I asked him to help fix my door” you answered. 

“Then what? You rode his dick as a reward?” 

“Satoru, I would never” you argued. 

“Then show me… Prove to me that you’d never betray me” he erupted, clicking his tongue 

“Please” he added.

That’s when Satoru stepped away from you, knowing what you have to do, your hands shakily let the white towel around your chest slip off, falling onto the floor, using your forearms to cover your breast and pelvis. You turned your head to the side, finding it unbearable to watch his degrading facial expression as he examined every inch of your body, tears of embarrassment threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

“What’s this,” Satoru asked, eyes hooded, his fingers prying your thighs apart, tracing over a faded bite mark. 

“It’s from you, remember” you answered, voice cracking. Suddenly, you felt Satoru’s hands pull your face towards his, blue eyes locking with yours, refusing to let you look away, “want to bet on it?” he questioned. 

You watched hopelessly as Satoru’s lips trailed down your chest to your inner thigh, his knees on the ground, stopping at the bite mark, his pupils dilating as he took a good look at it, before sinking his teeth right into it, causing you to yelp, tugging on his white hair, silently begging him to stop. And when he finally did, he pressed a wicked kiss on it, pulling back to analyze it, 

“I knew it”

He smiled as he looked up at you from between your legs, pressing his chin on your thigh, “It’s a perfect match on my teeth, I knew you’d never cheat on me baby” he smiled. His hands rubbed your waist as your tears fell from your eyes, heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline.

 Satoru didn’t mind you were crying, in fact, he thought you were always at your prettiest when crystal-clear salty tears dripped down your heated cheeks, eyelashes damp. 

--

You decided to break up with Satoru somewhere public, a local cafe- you knew either way, he’d make a big scene but hopefully being in public would hold him back at least a little bit...

Your leg was shaking from underneath the table, hand holding your face as you waited impatiently for your late soon-to-be ex-boyfriend to arrive. 

Just make it quick and straightforward- it’ll be like ripping off a band-aid! Except the band-aid is a dramatic, tall, white-haired and might scream at you in front of everyone for breaking his heart. 

You felt arms wrapped around your shoulder, turning your head to the side to make eye contact with a Satoru, his lips curled in a smile, “Y/nnn! I hope you didn’t have to wait too long” he laughed, before letting you go and pulling out his seat. 

“Suguru just kept bothering me, he keeps accusing me of drinking his protein shakes!” Satoru complained.

“But you do, Satoru” you commented.

“Yeah, but it still hurts being accused.” Satoru huffed, crossing his arms, and leaning back. 

You took a deep breath, quick and straightforward y/n...

“Satoru, there’s a reason why I asked you to come here” you muttered, hands forming a fist on your lap.

Satoru noticed the change in the atmosphere, sitting up from his seat, slightly tilting his head down, dark shade tilting downwards to reveal his eyes. 

“You’re making me nervous, Y/n. Did you find my browsing history or something?” Satoru teased, using humor to test how serious the conversation was going to be.

Unfortunately for him, you didn’t laugh at his joke, letting him know that he was going to be hit with something hard. 

“Satoru, I think-I want to break up. Things between us aren’t working out anymore and that’s mainly b-because…because I don’t think I can keep up with your expectations..” You uttered, secretly praying for some miracle where Satoru Gojo would just shake your hand, wish you the best, and then walk away peacefully.

“And what exactly are these…’ expectations’ that I am asking you, Y/n?” Satoru asked, eyes narrowing, looking down at you, rolling his finger on the table.

“It’s like-” You clicked your tongue.

“You expect me to worship you or something. Because god forbid I don’t answer your text in five seconds o-or if I want to ask another man for directions? I don’t even remember the last time I got to spend time with my friends without y-you blowing up on me like a fucking lunatic” you ranted, years of frustration escaping your thoughts and into your words. 

“Really? You’re breaking up with me because all I ask for is just a little reciprocation to all the things I do for you- the things I buy for you- the things I’ve done to protect you. ” Satoru laughed in disbelief. 

“I never asked for all of that, Satoru. It’s all too much for me- “ you replied.

“ What? So you expect me not to love my girlfriend?” Satoru argued. 

“This isn’t love- I feel like I’m drowning in you, Satoru. I need a break from your obsessive behavior"

“Obsessive?” Satoru repeated, clicking his tongue, looking around the cafe, in disbelief at what was occurring. 

“You’re going to fucking regret even thinking of breaking up with me” he muttered, before getting up, without giving you a second glance, leaving you alone at the table, the golden bell at the door ringing as he left. 

It took you ten minutes to muster up the courage to get up and leave the cafe, still processing today’s event.

----

You spent the entire month trying to recover your damaged social life, finally reconnecting with friends- who gave you the courage to finally erase any traces of Satoru Gojo on your phone, blocking all of his contacts, deleting every photo of him- even the ones where you looked good in.

You got a cardboard box and started stuffing any item in your room that even slightly reminded you of him, from the teddy bear he got you for your first date to the chapstick you brought because it was his favorite flavor. 

You sealed the box of haunted memories with a big strip of duct tape, grabbing a sharpie and writing ‘DO NOT OPEN’ on the cardboard. You hesitated as you held the box in front of the trash can, hands shaking before settling for the box rot in the corner of your room instead of being thrown inside the trash can.

'You could always throw it out later' you reminded yourself.

-----

You woke up in the middle of the night, mouth dry, begging for a drop of water. You slowly slide out of the comfort of your bed, noticing that your cat is no longer sleeping beside you- which is slightly alarming but you shook it off as any real threat because ‘they're probably just in their litterbox or something.’ 

Your staircase let out drawn-out creaking sounds with every step you took, one hand holding onto the railing, and the other blindly searching for the light switch on the wall. Once you heard the satisfying click of the switch being flipped, that’s when you saw him, familiar white hair, tall, blue-eyed ex-boyfriend, standing in your living room, your oblivious cat rubbing against his leg. Satoru was holding a bouquet of red roses, looking up at you with a sadistic smile, “oh, looks like our princess is awake” he laughed.

Holy shit- how the fuck is he in your house at the middle of the night- He mailed you back the spare key you gave him, Fuck, You even changed your locks just incase.

Without another thought, you rushed back up your stairs, your foot never touching the living room’s floor. You desperately tried to make your way back into your bedroom, hearing the sound of Satoru’s footsteps chasing after you.  You cried in relief as you managed to make it to your bedroom, instantly shutting and locking the door as you pressed your back against it, the sounds of your cries being muffled out by the thumping of Satoru’s fist banging at your door. 

“Y/n, open the door. I just wanna apologize, baby” he laughed, his tone sounding sincere, as he was twisting the uncooperative doorknob. 

“Leave me alone, Gojo- We’re over ” you shouted, hands shaking, your back being able to feel the door shake from Satoru’s assault. 

“Gojo? Baby, don't call me by my last name. Just open the door and we can talk” Satoru replied. 

“I-I’m going to call the cops if you don’t leave right now” you shouted, your threat causing Satoru to go silent, the only noise you heard was his footsteps walking away from the door. You sighed in relief but decided to call the police regardless- he did just break into your house after all. 

Still panicked by the whole encounter, you clumsily searched for your phone- which of course your cat knocked down somewhere.

You get on your knees, searching for your phone through the tiny sliver between your bed frame and the hardwood floor, hand blindly trying to grab for something in the darkness. Just as you felt the familiar rectangular device at your fingertips, a loud crashing noise erupted. Before you could even react, you were pulled off of the floor, back pressed against Satoru’s chest, his hands wrapping around your waist, lowering his head in the crook of your neck. You turned your head, noticing your door with a new hammer-shaped hole next to the door knob. Nanami really shouldn’t have left his toolbox the last time he came over to fix your door.

“Fuck, Y/n- You really like to make a guy work for his reward?” Satoru laughed in your ear, holding you tighter as you tried to squirm out of his grip.

“Gojo, let me go- you fucking psycho” you shouted, trying to kick him off of you, only to receive his teeth sinking into your neck, causing your whole body to tense up, words not being able to slip out of your mouth as your entire body was drowning in fear. 

Satoru slowly pulled his teeth out of your tender skin, pressing a soft kiss to the mark before leaning his head over your ear, “Look at you, calling me Gojo? A psycho? Don’t you know you’re hurting my feelings?”

Suddenly, Satoru threw you on your bed, and before you could get up, he climbed over you, his forearm next to the sides of your face, his face centimeters away from yours, blue eyes staring down at you in disappointment.

“I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, you never really cared about how I felt. Y'know, I really tried to be a nice boyfriend. But it seems like stupid girls like you don’t realize when they have something nice” Satoru uttered. His whole demeanor feels so intense, causing you to look away from him to deal with the overwhelming anxiety he caused.

“Fucking look at me when I talk to you” Satoru snarled, grabbing your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as he clicked his tongue.

“Please don’t hurt me” you begged, voice cracking, hands shaking at your side, feeling like a rabbit that a snake had just trapped.

“Hurt you? Baby, I’m just going to give you what you asked for, was too nice to you before that’s why you left. Relationships are all about compromises right?” Satoru responded, his lips turning into a sadistic smile. 

The sound of him attempting to unbuckle his belt caused your whole body to switch into fight mode.

You began thrashing your fist on his chest, chest heaving, shaking your head in disbelief as you begged him not to do whatever wicked thing he planned to do. You were using up all your energy trying your best to kick off a man who easily overpowered you.

He grabbed your neck lifted it up and then slammed it back onto the bed, the motion causing your headache and the tightness around your throat to become unbearable. “Do I have to tie you up? You know how much I love it when you’re scratching up my back, moaning like a hooker. But if you can’t be a good girl and take your punishment for throwing me out like fucking trash, I guess I’ll just have no choice but to wrap those pretty wrists with my belt” Satoru threatened. 

Pleased by your silence - which was mostly caused by fear- Satoru’s hand dragged across your body, pulling up your shirt to get a good view of the breasts that he’s been stroking his cock to for the entire hellish month that he had without you, enjoying the feeling of groping the soft skin into his palms.

Once he was satisfied, he lowered himself down to your waist, slowly sliding your pants off your legs, while leaving a kiss on your hip.

“Fuck princess, I wish I could just ram my dick into that tight pussy right now and not stop- even if you’re crying and screaming my name” Satoru confessed, taking the hem of your panties between his teeth and then pulling them down.

“But then I guess I wouldn’t get to taste this sweet cunt” Satoru muttered between kisses along your inner thigh. With his strong hands holding onto your hips, Satoru lowered his head towards your cunt, his tongue flicking out to tease your clit before his tongue placed a teasing circular stroke. 

You starring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the pleasure but it’s too difficult it’s impossible really, when you and Satoru were dating, he’d eat you out to the point of overstimulation, where your legs would be shaking, eyelashes damped with tears, too fucked out to properly say words. 

That's how he liked you- his dumb little girlfriend.

He knows your body more than you do, so that's how he knows when he should pull away just as you were so close to your orgasm, leaving you left dry and empty. 

“My dumb girl, you think I’d let you cum for what you did to me?” Satoru laughed, leaning over, his face hovering over yours, blue eyes refusing you to look away.  “Satoru- don’t do this” you begged, chest heaving. 

“Don’t give me that look. You should have known this would happen. You’re not allowed to leave me not when I’ve given you fucking everything” Satoru began to shout, his anger slipping through the cracks of his comedic complex. 

“Now—Now, it’s time to accept your punishment. “ Satoru huffed, leaning back, releasing his painfully hard cock out of the confinement of his boxer, stroking it to the sight of your exposed cunt. Then you felt Satoru push your shaking thighs apart, pressing his cock against your waiting cunt, slowly pushing into your entrance, immediately you cling onto your blankets, refusing to touch him. 

He didn’t want to waste any more time, he was already nice enough to stretch you out. Well he had to- he wanted to punish you not fucking destroy you.

So to your torture, he pulled out of your cunt, only for him to slam back in, your entire body bouncing with the moment, gasping at the burning stretch. 

He thrusts into your cunt relentlessly, pupils blown out like a predator finally feasting on its prey. His glare isn’t even focused on you, too distracted by the sight of your greedy cunt sucking every inch of him, “Fuck- you’re basically begging me to cum inside of you, right sweetheart?” Satoru huffed, experimentally pressing his thumbs over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. 

“No-No don’t do that” you whined, the grip you had on your bedsheets tightening with anxiety. “Is that so?” Satoru cooed at your disagreement. He leaned over, his lips hovering over the shell of your ear, his chest pressing against yours, as he intertwined his hands with your uncooperative shaking hands.

“Then apologize” he voiced, laying his tongue flat on the side of your neck as he licked up a strip, shivers going down your spine. His offer isn't for himself to know that he won- he already knows that by the way he has you, all flustered and scared. His offer is for you to realize that you lost, that you were wrong to think that you could leave him.

“I-I’m so sorry, Satoru” you croaked, sucking up your pride, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck in hopes your affection would calm him down. “There’s my good girl. Only took a little push for her to come out” Satoru cooed, leaning over to press an ironic sweet kiss on your swollen lips. When the storm inside him finally seemed to calm down that’s when you felt a harsh thrust of his hips almost knock the air out of your lungs, causing you to erupt into a gasp, heart racing. 

“M’sorry baby, I really thought an apology would calm me down. Just can’t forget all the bullshit you put me through for a whole month” Satoru huffed, each word with a ruthless snap of his hips. His pace is too intense, you're forced to hold onto him, clawing up his back, eyes rolling behind the back of your head as you shamelessly moaned. 

 You felt disgusted by him but there was a reason you couldn’t bring yourself to throw out that box, eradicate every trace of memory of him. You can lie all you want but a part of you is enjoying the feeling of being desired- needed like you were his oxygen. In a sense, you are his everything.

You hated the fact that he’d probably kill for you if you asked. Yet you knew he was the only person in your life who'd worship you to this level of extreme. You can't get that type of devotion anywhere.

“Shit- I almost forgot” Satoru laughed.

You felt the weight of the bed shift as Satoru got up, looking for something on the floor before picking up his discarded pants. You watched as he rummaged for something in his pant’s pockets before climbing back into bed. He gently picked up your right hand, then smoothly slipped on a golden ring on your finger.

“When you look at this engagement ring, I want you to remember

It’s not an obsession, sweetheart, it’s true love.”

#yandere x reader #yandere jjk x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere satoru gojo x reader

[pinkflower2003]

SWEET LIKE HONEY

James Potter x Reader

Warnings : smut, fingering, public fingering.

Summary : you & James have fun whilst you’re meant to be studying.

This is my first nsfw content i’ve ever written, so let’s see how this goes.

open to requests

“James, you’re going to get us into trouble.” Y/N whispered to her boyfriend, who sat next to her in the library, as they were meant to be studying.

James clearly didn’t want to study though, Y/N should have known it was too good to be true when he offered to come help her study in the library. His hands crept up towards her thigh, gently playing with the hem of her skirt.

James and Y/N were not a pairing that the whole of Hogwarts expected to see together, especially not since James was meant to be madly in love with Lily Evans, not a shy Hufflepuff, but he fell in love with Y/N anyway. They had met during a potions class when Professor Slughorn had moved James away from Sirius, unsurprisingly. He sat next to Y/N, who barely looked his way and he never truly understood why he had never spoken to her before, he instantly thought she was beautiful, and he made sure she knew it.

From that day on, he was completely in awe of the beautiful Hufflepuff, always getting into trouble to get him moved next to her, which then became his personal spot. He would wait outside her class and offer to carry her bag, he would bring her flowers, check up on her to see if she way okay and all the while Y/N had no idea what to think. How could someone like James Potter like someone like her?

James soon asked her on a date, and she quickly accepted.

Fast forward a year later to the present and James truly had no idea how a year ago he never knew his girlfriend. His beautiful, shy, sweet girlfriend who he simply just wanted to bend over the table and fuck her any chance he got.

“We’re not going to get into trouble sweetheart, you just have to stay quiet. You’ll do that won’t you?” Y/N let out a huff at James’ words. She didn’t like getting into trouble or breaking rules, but she liked James’ hands a hell of a lot more, and so she just nodded slightly.

James pressed a kiss to her temple, “good girl.”

His fingers began going higher and higher until they reached her panties, rubbing slightly when finding her clit.

“Please, Jamie.” Y/N whispered breathlessly, trying as hard as possible not to be heard.

James tapped her pussy slightly, “quiet darling, wouldn’t want to be caught, would we? Carry on studying and i’ll give you what you want.”

Y/N just nodded, looking back on her textbook as James pulled across her panting and rubbed over her wet folds. “All this for me, darling?” He asked, smirking, watching as Y/N grip on her textbook tightened with every movement.

“You know it is, Jamie, please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?” James asked, still smirking at his girlfriend, who couldn’t look at him.

“Need your fingers, James, need them so badly.” She said, practically begging.

James inserted one of his fingers into his girlfriend’s pussy, as Y/N sighed in relief deeply, as if she finally felt complete after needed them for so long. “That’s my girl,” he murmured in her ear. “Can’t wait until classes are over and i can take you upstairs and fuck you, been waiting all day sweet girl.”

Mouth open slightly, Y/N couldn’t think of what to say, mind slightly muddled from the pleasure given by her boyfriend’s fingers.

“Hey guys!” Both Y/N and James’ heads snapped up as they saw Remus walking towards them. Y/N hands instantly tried to get James to stop, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Of course, Remus had no idea what was happening under the table, smiling sweetly at his friends, but Y/N tried to push James’ hands away, earning a slap on her pussy.

“Ah! “ Y/N yelped lightly, earning a concerned look from Remus who stood in front of them. “Are you okay, Y/N?” he asked, as she flushed.

“Sorry, just banged my knee on the table,” she replied quietly. “What’s up, Remus?”

“Sirius, Peter and I were just about to head down to the lake, wondered if you wanted to join us!” He said, as James once again had his fingers inside his girlfriend, pushing them in and out in a motion that made his girlfriend want to scream out his name.

“I think we’re gonna stay here and study, right Y/N?” James smiled smugly at his girlfriend, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to leave just yet, or at least until she cummed.

“I-uh yeah, I-i really have to study.” Y/N stuttered, not able to look Remus in the eye.

Remus eyed them both suspiciously, with Y/N’s red cheeks and James’ smug smile, he seemed to put the two together, and the other fact his werewolf senses seemed to smell something he instantly recognised as sex.

“Really James? In a library.” At this point Y/N was mortified, clamping her thighs together in an attempt to stop James from doing anything else now they’d been found out, but he kept going, pushing his fingers in an out of her, and Y/N couldn’t but allow it, it just felt too good and she desperately needed to cum.

“Can’t help it mate, she’s just too sweet not too.” James said to Remus, who just shook his head and left the library.

James turned his attention back to Y/N who now had her head tilted slightly back, gripping the table. “Jamie please, need to- wanna”

“Gonna cum, baby? You’ve been so good, cum all over my fingers.”

Y/N practically saw stars when she finally came, James putting his hand over her mouth, stopping her from screaming, whispering in her ear, “so pretty baby, so good for me.”

After finally coming down from her high, James took his fingers out of her pussy. Smiling at his beautiful girl, he licked his fingers clean.

“Sweet like honey.”

#harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter smut #james potter #james potter smut #james potter imagine #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader

[laura1633]

Omega charles will ditch that mv duvet cover immediately if he could find the way to get the real one into his life because the actual max seems to be a good material for nesting by himself. I mean charles could just sit on his lap and let max hold him. It's way far more comfortable than any nest he has built for his entire life 🥰

(Just combine two latest tropes in your blog together teehee)

Oh Max would be the absolute best nesting material of all, you are completely right 🥰

Here's a quick little headcanon of Omega Charles finding comfort by sitting on Alpha Max's lap.

TW: Charles is a little stressed after a persistent alpha approached him in a bar (only referenced briefly)

Once back in Charles’ hotel room the omega clambers up into Max’s lap, not quite ready to let him go yet. He curls himself tight and presses their bodies together at as many points as possible.   Max smells of the forest, lots of earth and pine, refreshing and familiar in a way that calms Charles to the point of contentment. The omega chances his luck a little further by running his nose right across the alpha’s scenting gland, the sudden rush of aroma makes him purr.  Charles knows he probably should have asked first but Max is being nothing but receptive, the alpha’s arms slink around Charles’ waist so he can hug him closer. There’s a softness to the touch, soothing in a way that Charles needs so much right now. He leans back in and inhales the alpha’s scent once more and smiles lazily as it fill this lungs. He is still dizzy off the scent when he meets Max’s eyes and blushes.  “It’s okay” Max dips down and kisses the tip of Charles’ nose, “You can take whatever you need from me”  After the night Charles has had he is close to sobbing at the tenderness. Deep down he's always thought of Max as his safe space. "You're safe now Charles. I promise" Max's hands stroke up Charles' back as Charles leans in and lets his body weight drop against the alpha’s chest. Charles is used to having alphas chase after him and he can normally handle it himself easily. Tonight was different, a very persistent alpha that didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. Charles is still a little shaky thinking about what could have happened had Max not been there to step in.  Max had let out the most possessive growl Charles has ever heard. So different to the soft adorable alpha that is cooing against Charles’ ear now. That’s the duality Charles has always known to exist in Max, aggressive when required but soft and sweet otherwise. "Do you want me to carry you into your nest?” Max's voice is still nice and steady, his whole demeanour calming.  "Happy here" Charles mumbles as his body continues to melt against Max's. Charles loves the nests he builds but this is infinitely better. Max’s body is broad and soft and strong all at the same time. The alpha is built to snuggle up against, his thighs nice and thick for sitting on, his chest filled out enough for Charles to rest his head against. Max is better than any arrangement of cushions or blankets or any other nesting materials Charles has ever managed to get hold of. There’s a nice warmth coming from the alpha’s body too, plus the steady quiet rumbles make Charles smile with each vibration. Charles settles down, comfortable and warm and surrounded by earthy scents.  Max is infinitely better than any nest Charles has ever created. He just hopes this isn't a one time nesting experience because he’ll never be able to replicate it for himself. He wants Max and only Max from now on. 

#laura1633 asks #Lestappen fanfic #Omega Charles Leclerc

[ch-4-eri]

Girls Like Pink — Jill Valentine.

jill x fem!reader

warnings: smut smut smut, use of strap, edging, overstimulation, not sure what else but i think that’s all.

word count: 2.2k

i sincerely apologize for this because i don’t like it, but thanks to anon for requesting this! kisss.

you watched as your girlfriend was paying attention to the papers in front of her more than you, pen in her mouth with the S.T.A.R.S. uniform still on, the blue fitted shirt hugging her waist so perfectly as you narrowed your eyes some more, biting on your thumb as jill looked at you in the corner of her blue eyes, putting the paper down and taking the pen out of her mouth.

“i didn’t even change, did i?” she asked, stretching out against the leather chair. moving her arms above her head and stretches her lower back and her legs, looking away to avoid being called out over staring at her, she’s brutal with the teasing especially when she’s tired.

“you didn’t.” you finally answered her question, jill quickly stood up from the chair, this woman was still energetic no matter what she does, you always envied her strength but then it’s jill, no one compares to her.

she walked to her hanging clothes near the tv in her small apartment, starting to strip off her blue uniform, kicking off her boots as you sat on her bed. pulling your knees together, jill noticed you weren’t speaking much tonight.

she took off her shirt and turned to face you. “you’re unusually quiet, whatcha thinkin’ about?” jill asked, her tone slightly playful but curious nonetheless.

“oh so you’ve noticed…” you rolled your eyes subtly, playing with the hem of your shirt as your eyes finally managed to meet hers, jill was crossing her arm, eyebrow raised. “it’s attitude night isn’t it?” jill questioned with her head tilted, her arms resting beneath her breasts pushed up by her pink bra.

“no.” you said, lying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling instead of admitting how much you missed her, it was such a weird thing to think about now that you were in a crappy mood, but you’d always be welcome to it, especially when it’s jill.

“you suck at lying.” she says, continuing to strip her clothes away, taking off her blue cargo pants and kicking them to the side. her panties the same pink as her bra was.

“stop staring weirdo.” jill joked. shit, you’re caught.

“when did you get that set?” you managed, sitting up on her bed with your arms crossed, trying to change the subject.

jill looked down at herself and smirked. “do you like it? i know you like pink.” she smiled, getting closer to the bed then climbs on top of it, in a swift motion she was right in front of you.

you were still trying to remain a poker face, like her words weren’t getting to you, like you couldn’t even miss her more than you already do.

“and i’m a girl huh, girls like pink don’t they?” she says playfully, her tone sultry and addicting. “so what’s your problem with this set? or you wanna see underneath it?” she teased, of course she would, knowing it’s exactly what you’re looking for; her damn attention.

jill chuckled with the cockiest smirk on her perfect face, she looked a bit sweaty and in need of a shower, but she looked amazing like that… no one else could rock a sweaty look more than jill does.

jill’s finger’s move up your thigh softly, then taps your chin. “why’s my pretty girl upset, hm?” she asked, catching on with the whole grumpy old man look you’re pulling.

“i think i know why, and you’re letting it out on my undergarments set.” she chuckled, leaning in to kiss your cheek while her hands brought you to her lap as she was seated on the edge of her bed.

“i’m not…” you argued, your cheeks turned into a sweet shade of pink, one that matched jill’s bra perfectly, your eyes not faltering from how perfect she looked from this angle, and this lighting.

jill gripped your hips into her rough hands, sitting your soaked cunt on her thigh. “i should have known this is what you wanted.” she chuckled, moving your hips slightly to cause a sudden friction between your legs, making you let out a whimper, her eyes widening in surprise.

it went quiet between you two, but your hips were moving on their own as you started to ride her thigh, her hands guiding your hips into her. “just like that…” she whispered, her fingers squeezing your flesh as your hips were sliding back and forth on her thigh.

“don’t cum yet… i wanna fuck you.” jill whispered into your neck as your slick got on the soft skin of her toned thigh, making the goosebumps rise up on your skin, her hands moving you to lay you down on her bed, grabbing a hold of your panties, sliding them down your legs as a stripe of wetness was connected to it.

jill only threw it aside, patting your legs. “i’ve missed you just as much.” she says, her middle finger trailing over your pussy as she spreads your folds slightly, your eyes fluttering, stomach tightening.

“hmm…” jill sighed, touching you was always so overwhelming to her as she gets turned on so quickly and has no patience til you’re the one who’s touching her too. her finger toyed with your clit, rubbing in a circular motion, adding her ring finger making your back arch and your neck bend, shoving your head into the pillow.

jill’s skilled fingers touched you ever so gently and slowly, wanting to build up that anticipation and desire but she wouldn’t want you to cum yet, she just has a different way to get you to do so. and not from her fingers, not yet at least, she knows you can cum so many times per night.

“how’s this?” she murmured while moving her slick filled fingers round and round, you were already so wet as a puddle was created onto jill’s dark sheets. her fingers were covered in a thick white coat of your juices dripping down to her knuckles, still rubbing at your clit, moving her mouth to your wet hole, sticking her tongue to get a taste and to tease you, make you want this and her even more than before, getting you ready for her cock.

jill’s tongue and fingers were working you slowly. “don’t cum.” jill warned, sliding her nose up your cunt as you let out a cry.

“i can’t i can’t i can’t!” you panted. “fuck fuck fuck jill i’m gonna cum.. i’m gonna fucking cum—!”

jill quickly removed her fingers, lifting her head as you ached at the missing heat from her breath between your legs, your were twitching and squirming as she edged you and rid you of a spine licking orgasm.

“awh, poor baby..” she giggled, kissing your knee and standing up to grab her strap, she didn’t wanna edge you anymore or make you wait any longer, she knows you’re her sensitive princess.

you were still shaking from the anticipation of that damn orgasm you were so close to having, you often touched yourself as jill was working or too busy to fuck you herself, but nothing felt as good, you’d make yourself cum but it’s not even as enjoyable, or that mind blowing that it gets you vibrating before it even happens.

you weren’t aware you were so caught up in your thoughts as jill climbed back on top of you, her pink strap that matches her bra perfectly placed on her hip as she smiled.

“hi..” she smiled. “now be a good girl and turn around for me, hm?” she twisted her finger in motion for you to lay on your stomach.

as soon as you did that, she grabbed a fistful of your hair and shoved you down the pillow, her other hand picking up your hips to guide her cock in your dripping wet hole, you were so easy to slide in.

your cheek was squished into the pillow, your ass facing upwards to jill’s eyes, she grabbed your right cheek and squeezed it. “what a lovely sight.” she whispered, gripping your hair tighter as she finally guided the tip inside, making you let out a short gasp, but jill shoved your head into the pillow harder.

she bottomed out completely and started thrusting in and out, slowly at first, very slow enough it made you squirm and move your hips for any kind of relief.

jill let go of your hair and grabbed your hips to start thrusting more and more, the squelching and squeezing of your pussy around her strap was enough to drive her nuts as she was already cumming in her panties.

“goddamn..” jill growled, cock buried so deep inside of you as her eyes roamed your perfect ass, her fingers kneading the skin, and squeezing so hard your ass turned red underneath her strong palms.

you were biting the pillow as she slammed brutally inside of you, the strap kissing your cervix as you let out a muffled cry, your saliva and snot getting on the dark pillow while jill grabbed your hips to angle the cock in all the right places, your back arched and your eyebrows furrowed, getting so high at the feeling on its own, you thought of nothing but how much you craved this, jill manhandling you, and you just taking it.

the sound of slapping filled jill’s apartment as she listened to your cute little noises, watching that perfect arch of your back, your hair all sweaty and stuck to your kissable neck, her hand grabbing at it again as you moaned her name, your hips being rocked back and forth.

“you gonna cum for me now?” jill broke the silence, her tone breathless and husky. you were so close, that same feeling you got in your lower stomach came back and stronger than ever, making your knees weak and your legs shaking.

“mhm… i’m gonna cum, gonna… cum—“ you stuttered, your hips twitching, jill smirked at the sight of you like that, not long after you came all over her strap as she couldn’t contain her satisfied giggles.

with your face shoved into the pillow, your moans muffled, jill slowly pulled out of you, throwing the strap off her hips and throwing it away, she rubbed your back in comfort.

“my pretty girl..” she teased while you collapsed onto the bed, your breathing heavy and your eyes closed as you were trying to catch your breath.

jill took you in her arms, making you lay down on top of her, you quickly wrapped your arms around her.

“come shower with me…? hm..?” jill asked you quietly, she knew you were sleepy and exhausted after such a physical encounter, her hands were massaging your shoulders, fingers brushing your hair. “okay..” you replied anyway, knowing jill would wash you and put you in your clothes and ready for the good night sleep you’d have now that you have her attention.

“jill.. why don’t you let me make you feel good, too?” you decided to ask, it’s not always you get to pleasure jill but then she gets off at the sight of you getting off, so it’s not an issue if she doesn’t get the favour returned.

but tonight, jill was in a different mood, she was very horny and wanted your soft little mouth between her legs.

“do you want that?” jill teased, a prideful smirk made it’s way on her cheeks, you shyly nodded though, you’d never waste an opportunity at pleasing your girlfriend.

it was unspoken as you positioned yourself between her legs, pulling down her pink panties as your fingers grazed her butt, jill was biting her lip as the heat of your mouth met her core. “eat me out baby.” jill whispered, moving her hips so she’s closer to you. you parted her knees some more and leaned forward, leaving a soft open mouthed kiss to her pussy, jill let out a breathless chuckle, not expecting it to feel that good. her back arched and her hands found your hair in a fistful, she tasted so sweet, you’ve missed doing this for her, if only she wasn’t so persistent on you being the pillow princess instead of her.

you were making out with her pussy with tongue at this point, holding her thighs apart. she was so soft and the sounds she made were even softer, she moaned your name so quietly, she usually was much louder with a nasty mouth, but tonight she was polite and quiet, her fingers tugged at your hair as she bucked her hips to ride your face, which you let her.

your tongue was licking her clean as she gasped softly. “shit darling i’m so damn close.” jill cursed, you spat on her cunt and continued devouring her, her back arched against the mattress while her juices gushed down your tongue and down your throat, jill still chuckled breathlessly, her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling as you lifted your head up to look at her, wiping her slick off your mouth as you leaned in and kissed her, holding her face with a hand, the other holding her thigh gently.

“mmmm..” jill chuckled into your mouth, pulling away as her blue eyes gazed into yours.

“how about that shower now..?” you suggested, making her chuckle some more, helping her sit up and leading her to the bathroom, and knowing jill there’s another round on the bathroom floor.

#jill valentine #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine x reader smut

[asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog]

Asleep In The Keep-Chapter 29

DPxMHA crossover Fic

Chapter 29: Pt 2: What They’re Planning

Summary: UA has a much needed meeting about Phantom

TW: smoking and addiction

Word Count: 6399

Equal parts dread and relief washed over Shouta at having been kicked off the case. Now he was no longer excepted to hunt the boy like an animal, but at the same time it meant he no longer had access to information that could hurt him. He had no idea what the Commission was capable of and Phantom would be the victim.  

Shouta stood on the steps of the Commission, lost. He had failed him for the second time that day. Shouta licked his gums, his body craving nicotine. Instead he pulled out a slice of cinnamon gum and began grinding it in between his teeth rather than chewing it. He could really use some coffee right about now…

He couldn’t go back to the coffee shop. Not only was it closed but Phantom’s words rang in his ear. ‘I just need some time.’ Shouta felt strange for thinking this, but the boy looked so pathetic and small in that moment. He didn’t know anyone could look so much like a child while covered in somebody else’s blood. 

Shouta had only seen some of the fight. He was wandering the area in case Phantom decided to go back. There was a weird air in the alley that could not so easily be forgotten. It felt a lot like Phantom. Endeavor beat him to it. Shouta was only a block away when he got the distress signal and was the first on the scene. At first, he could do nothing but stare at the creature on top of Endeavor before he realized it was Phantom. He had never seen him like this and didn’t even know it was possible. Phantom’s voice whispered in his ear, ‘You don’t know me.’

He was right. Shouta didn’t know him, and maybe he never will, but he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to. It was an easy decision stepping in, even knowing he’ll probably be hurt. Even if Phantom doesn’t forgive him, the kid needs to know that someone was willing to try and not everyone will hurt him. It was worth the black eyes. 

Shouta breathed deeply in, his ribs protesting slightly. He kept it in until he felt his lungs burn and his heart start racing. He exhaled slowly, drawing it out till there was nothing left in him. It felt nice. 

He sent a quick text to principal Nezu explaining he was kicked. Nezu sent another one back immediately asking him to return to the school for a meeting, as if Shouta hadn’t been to enough of those recently. 

Shouta felt a presence behind him and turned around to see Sir Nighteye. The man wasn’t looking at him, pretending to be lost in the night sky. Shouta looked up too, spotting a northern star that was as bright as when Phantom was the center of a storm. ‘How did he feel about the stars,’ he wondered. 

“Evening, Sir Nighteye,” Shouta finally acknowledged. 

“Evening,” he greeted in turn. 

The man was long in all senses of the word. He towered over Shouta by 5in and his arms looked like a broken manakin’s being held together by the sleeve. Phantom had a similar frame, although not as tall. Perhaps he hasn’t stopped growing yet and would still gain those few inches. 

He couldn’t stop thinking of Phantom. He hadn’t seemed that injured from the fight, but he could have internal injuries. Honestly, Shouta didn’t know how he was able to stand let alone actually win against Endeavor. He wasn’t known for going easy on whatever stood in his way, even if they were children. Shouta had hoped that by giving Phantom the folder he could see how big of a threat he was and only use the information for when he can’t run. Oh how wrong he was. 

Shouta should’ve expected it. You tell kids not to fight someone and then they go hunt that person down. Shouta should do the opposite, maybe then his kids would listen to him. 

Sir Nighteye pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his inner suit pocket. The lighter was yellow with All Might’s smiling face on it. Shouta didn’t know that the hero even allowed anything that promoted unsafe habits to use his face in Japan, but knowing Sir Nighteye, he probably got it from the states. Sir Nighteye lit the cigarette without fanfare and deeply inhaled, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He exhaled and the smoke blew in Shouta’s face, his lungs feeling the slight burn. 

Shouta’s thumb and index finger twitched. Sir Nighteye looked down at him and offered him a cigarette, which Shouta took. Habit took over and he placed it in between his teeth. Sir Nighteye held up the lighter and Shouta leaned into it until it lit up the stick. He inhaled deeply, the taste combining with the gum making it even more pungent. It was like burning a foul incense. 

“I thought you quit smoking?” it was said as casually as the weather. 

“I did,” Shouta took another drag. It had been a while and Shouta resisted the urge to cough. “Hizashi doesn’t like it. He said it’s like kissing a fireplace.”

Sir Nighteye laughed but it was empty and had a bitter tinge in it. He had no one who did the same for him. His sidekicks of course protested, but there was only so much they could do. He had no one to come home to or support him to stop.

“You should consider the same. Those things will kill you.”

“Not before a villain will,” He took another drag and looked up at the sky, his eyes lost in memory. 

“Did you see it?” Shouta put the cigarette down and looked at Sir Nighteye. 

He didn’t say anything but the answer was clear. A somber silence went between them. They both understood the danger of being a hero. That was why Shouta started teaching in the first place. He had to prepare the next generation for when that happened, because it will. Shouta knew at some point either his kids would be burying him or he would have to bury one of them. Not many heroes made it to retirement, and those who did were the type Stain was hunting. Smoking was a way to take the edge off, but it also saved you a spot in the grave. 

“You’re going to UA after this, right?” Sir Nighteye asked. 

Shouta side-eyed him. It was possible he had used his quirk on him without his notice. 

“I am.” He answered flatly. 

“I expected as much,” Sir Nighteye watched for his reaction, “I bet you have a lot of school work to do,” he exhaled smoke in his face. 

Shouta nodded. He was speaking in code. It wasn’t safe to talk about Phantom in public, especially on the steps of the commission no less. 

“Allow me to join you,” He walked ahead of Shouta and pulled a pair of keys out of his pocket. He hit the button and a yellow car beeped not too far away, “I was headed there already.”

Shouta rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. He smashed his cigarette into the concrete railing that led to the Commission and discarded the rest into a nearby garbage bin. Sir Nighteye did the same, then opened the passenger door for Shouta. They both got in and the silence continued. 

Shouta had only had brief interactions with the fellow hero, but never alone. They had always been a part of some type of task force, not entirely dissimilar to the one with Phantom. They were civil and even worked well together, but only in a professional capacity. On the inside, Shouta had doubts about Sir Nighteyes motives. He had information that no one else was able to access. It was indispensable while working towards the same goal, but Shouta dreaded what would happen if they were on opposite sides. 

Now they were alone together, probably thinking the same thing about the other. 

Sir Nighteye turned on the radio and Shouta heard his husband's voice ringing out, announcing the next song. It was Saturday, so it was very likely that was his actual voice and not a recording. Being a hero and a teacher didn’t leave a lot of time for radio, so Hizashi would do pre-recordings a few times a week and leave the rest to his sidekicks. Shouta was honestly very proud of him. Shouta had struggled with juggling teaching, hero work and sleep. He didn’t know how Hizashi had time for all that plus his show. That’s what passion got you. 

Hizashi made a stupid joke, and while Shouta smiled, he was surprised to see the other hero’s mouth twitch. 

“Careful, he’s taken,” Shouta teased, but it sounded more like a threat. 

“I’m well aware,” Sir Nighteye affirmed, “I just enjoy his comedy, is all. I think it’s important to laugh or find joy when you can.”

“If you like comedy so much, you should find company with Ms. Joke. You could distract her from flirting with me. She thinks it’s funny considering my status,” Shouta rolled his eyes. 

The hero let out a small ‘hmm,’ sound, “I’ve only had the pleasure of meeting her a few times, but she was entertaining. Perhaps I’ll take you up on that. If anything she’d be a good ally.”

Shouta wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but either way it wasn’t his business. The rest of the car ride was in silence, the only voice being Hizashi’s every so often. That just left Shouta’s mind to wander. He was skeptical of Sir Nighteye’s intentions at UA. While he was All Might’s sidekick, the two hadn’t spoken to the other in years. It seemed unlikely the hero was solely hoping to reconnect. 

He was probably after information regarding Phantom. Shouta would do the same in his shoes. To Sir Nighteye, or anyone else for that matter, Phantom was only a threat. None of them saw him as the child he actually was. Shouta may not know the kid as deeply as he would like, but he knew a scared child when he saw one. Now he can only hope people will see the same.

They arrived to UA not long after. The school was quiet, which was to be expected since most of the kids were off at internships until Monday, and the teachers that lingered in the halls were busy preparing for the midterms. Shouta had neglected his own class’ midterms, being too busy chasing Phantom. That along with the recent League attacks, principal Nezu had taken over planning for the practical. 

The feeling of being watched stabbed into Shouta every step of the way. Sir Nighteye had not stopped following him since entering the school. Shouta watched him out of the corner of his eye before he decided to confront him.

“What business do you have at UA?”

“The same as you, I imagine,” Sir Nighteye responded. 

“I’m positive you don’t have homework to grade,” Shouta responded coyly. 

“I have as much as you,” Sir Nighteye gave him a look. It was clear he knew why Shouta was really here.

Shouta decided to ignore him, letting what happens, happen. He trusted principal Nezu enough to decide what to do with the hero. They finally made it to principal Nezu’s office, Shouta eyeing the hero once more before opening the door. 

Principal Nezu wasn’t the only one inside. Around the large table, sat other teachers. It was only a handful, consisting of Recovery girl, Snipe, Ectoplasm, All Might and Nemuri. The former two weren’t in their hero costumes and looked the most stressed out of all of them. Nemuri, who was usually picture perfect, had her hair in a messy bun and bags under her eyes, probably having been pulled from grading papers. All Might looked like a wet dog, so the same as normal. Shouta thinks it’s impossible for All Might not to look stressed. 

The hero beside him inhaled deeply at spotting his former mentor in such a state and a similar reaction went through All Might. The older hero stood up and approached them. He looked awkward and stiff, like a child whose mother sent him to order their food for the first time. Sir Nighteye looked similar, but had broken into a cold sweat at the heroes approaching. When he finally caught up, the two just stared at each other, their mouths open with words they were too afraid to say. It was a little awkward so Shouta moved away, not wanting to invade their privacy. 

“Principal Nezu, what is the meaning of this?” Shouta had the impression meetings discussing Phantom would be secret. 

“Ah, Mr. Aizawa,” principal Nezu greeted, “and it seems you brought a guest?” Principal Nezu looked over at Sir Nighteye before his gaze drifted back to Shouta. Shouta didn’t get the chance to respond before principal Nezu cut him off, “No matter. The more the merrier!” He laughed. 

Everyone at the table looked uncomfortable. It was bad enough to be discussing such a delicate topic, but to have an outsider's eyes on them made it more violating.  

“Now we’re only waiting for one more person…” 

Shouta looked around the room wondering who could be missing. The door opened behind him and he saw the flushed face of his husband. He had clearly run from the studio and he still had a pair of headphones on. Shouta smiled at seeing him before he realized how he had looked himself.

Hizashi’s eyes widened at seeing Shouta, more specifically the brace around his nose and black eyes. He had told him that he had a small altercation but not that he was hurt or by who. He was going to, but he was under observation by the Commission. Shouta tried to look away, to hide his face, but Hizashi rushed over to him and held him. He gently placed his hands on Shouta’s face, careful not to touch any of the bandages. Shouta looked up at him, an uneasy almost shameful feeling welling up inside him. He didn’t regret stepping in, but seeing his husband’s scared face made him want to go back. 

“You can’t keep doing this Sho…” Hizashi whispered breathlessly, placing his forehead to his. 

Shouta took his hands and led them further away from the heroes. The other heroes were purposely ignoring them except Nemuri, who watched with a smile that rivaled a cat’s. 

“I’m fine, Hizashi.” Shouta tried to soothe. He had put his husband through so much the last few weeks with both the USJ attack and now this. Before, it was rare for Shouta to get hurt, his enemies not even being able to see him coming. “It’s nothing Recovery Girl can’t fix.”

“That’s not the point,” Hizashi looked down at their hands, “How long are you gonna keep doing this? This isn’t just about Phantom, but you. You can’t keep burning both ends. That’s how you make mistakes and a random villain can get the jump on you like this.” He sighed and raised Shouta’s hand to hold his face. He had such big puppy dog eyes, it was hard not to feel bad. 

“You’ve been hunting this Phantom kid nonstop for the last two weeks. You haven’t been this obsessed over in a case in a while. I don’t want to see you like that again.”

“I haven’t been hunting him down,” Shouta defended, “I just need to help him before the Commission gets him.” There was a difference. 

Hizashi looked sad again, and kissed Shouta’s hand. Shouta had put him through so much. It had been days since they’ve even talked to each other for more than a few minutes. He was just so focused on Phantom that he had neglected everything else in his life. 

“We should talk about this later,” Shouta pulled away and Hizashi looked more hurt. “I’m taking a break from finding Phantom, so you don’t have to worry so much anymore.”

Hizashi gave him a small smile but it was clearly forced. Deep down he knew it wasn’t for him, but because something else must have happened. He leaned closer to Shouta and gently kissed him. When Hizashi loved something, he loved something passionately and deeply, people were no different. They became a part of him as much as he did them. Sometimes, Shouta didn’t think he deserved it.

Hizashi pulled away from Shouta slowly, his eyes still sad, “Have you been smoking, again?” 

A look of disappointment graced his face but it was clear concern was the dominant emotion. Shouta looked away again as an admission of guilt. Hizashi breathed in deeply. 

“It’s okay,” he moved Shouta’s face to his again, “we’ll talk later. I’ll have you for the rest of the weekend.” He winked flirtatiously, but it was a mask to hide what he truly felt. They still had a meeting to get through. 

They walked back to the table with the rest of the heroes and sat next to each other, holding hands under the table. Sir Nighteye and All Might were also sitting close and seemed to be whispering something, or more of Sir Nighteye was whispering while All Might quietly listened. He was probably getting lectured about his health. 

“And with that, we can proceed,” principal Nezu announced. 

The heroes all sat up straighter and looked to Nezu. Despite having a chair that made him the same height as the others, he stood on the table like a centerpiece. 

“As some of you may know, Mr. Aizawa has been tasked with investigating Phantom since the Stain incident.”

All the heroes looked at him. Hizashi and All Might were already aware, so their faces betrayed nothing. Sir Nighteye on the other hand looked enraged. 

“This whole time!” He stood up. He looked surprised at his own outburst for a second before sitting back down. “Excuse me,” he fixed his glasses, “That should’ve been expected. It is a public secret of the rivalry between UA and the Commission.”

“Of course,” principal Nezu took over the meeting again, “We don’t believe that the Commission would be well suited for someone as special as Phantom. Besides that, we can’t let a child that clearly wants to be a hero go un-mentored, now can we?” 

“You cannot be serious…” Sir Nighteye sighed, “and I thought the Commission was delusional.”

“Not at all. We believe he would be a valuable addition to UA. Mr. Aizawa,” He looked towards the hero again, “Would you mind sharing what you’ve found?”

Shouta stood up and swallowed a lump in his throat, “Yes. As principal Nezu said, I have been investigating Phantom since his first sighting. Thanks in large part to the students being at internships, I have been able to dedicate all my time to this task. As I’m sure principal Nezu made you all aware, Phantom is not a vigilante group but rather one person with multiple quirks. The reason behind this remains unconfirmed,” Shouta looked over at principal Nezu before continuing, “The process has been slow since Phantom has been able to move much more quickly, thanks to one of his quirks, to get any solid leads other than witness statements. However, I’ve noticed he has stayed around the same area since he came to Musutafu.”

“The Hero Commission was able to confirm as much,” Sir Nighteye interrupted. 

“If you allow Mr. Aizawa to speak, I’m sure he would have gotten to that.” Principal Nezu chastised with a smile. Sir Nighteye frowned but didn’t say anything. 

“Yes, I was getting to that. A few nights ago, Phantom had an… altercation with the heroes Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, and Death Arms. The latter is in critical condition with both his arms broken and burned by Phantom.” Gasps were spread throughout the room. They all had heard rumors through the Hero network, but hearing it made it more real.  

“I arrived on scene after Phantom had already left, but was able to collect a few samples and even got a report from an informant. It detailed his quirk and general appearance.”

“Did you get any results from the samples?” Sir Nighteye asked.

“I believe I can answer this one,” principal Nezu said in a sing-song tone. He pulled a remote out of his pocket and a holo-projection lit up in the middle of a table. “Rattus norvegicus, better known as a common brown rat.”

“A rat?” Hizashi spoke for the first time this meeting. 

“Yes, a rat.” Principal Nezu confirmed. No one commented on the elephant in the room. 

“So did he kill this rat?” Sir Nighteye asked. 

“Why would Phantom kill a rat?” Nemuri asked next. 

“It was already dead when Phantom melted it.” Principal Nezu clarified. 

“Wait, he melted it?!” Nemuri shouted, surprised. Even Shouta was surprised by that. 

“I think I need to establish a few things,” Shouta spoke up, “The sample I pulled was from a crater in the ground separate from the fight. In the report it said that he was looking at something on the ground before the heroes attacked him.”

“Ah, you figured that whatever it was had to be important to Phantom in some way.” Sir Nighteye connected. 

“Indeed. Turns out it was just a rat.” Shouta shrugged. 

“Not so fast,” principal Nezu interrupted again, “If it was indeed just a rat, why would Phantom melt it? There would be no reason to. I believe that the rat had some kind of emotional effect on Phantom, and that was why.”

“What kind of emotional effect could a dead rat have?” Shouta questioned. 

“Maybe he saw himself in the rat?” Hizashi commented. No one said anything. 

“Regardless,” principal Nezu continued, “we were also able to collect a sample from the rat that was similar to Ectoplasm’s plasm, as it were. I was hoping you would be able to give us some insight into this, along with some of Phantom’s other quirks.”

Principal Nezu switched slides again to one with a complete list of Phantom’s suspected quirks. Most of them were from the Stain and hero report along with Shouta’s own investigation. There were about 8 total and only had a few lines detailing their uses or perceived limits: ice/cold manipulation, flight, limited invisibility & intangibility, and limited electricity. There was an entire paragraph about Phantom’s body itself and how they believe it to be made of ectoplasm, similar to Ectoplasm’s clones or a villain All Might had fought last year. It hid the fact he was able to manipulate his appearance. The list wasn’t perfect and there was always the chance some was missing. The slides neglected any information about All For One, as some of the people in the room weren’t aware of his existence. The list still was definitely concerning. Most of the Nomu’s they’d encountered till now only had 4 before they started to break down and turn unstable. 

Hizashi whistled and the other heroes had more visual reactions at reading the list. Nemuri had almost spit out her tea and other heroes' eyes looked like they would pop out of her head. 

“Hmm,” Ectoplasm thought for a minute, “I can understand why you decided to show me this. While most on the list are feats my clones are not able to do, they do share qualities. Like ice and electricity for example. Ectoplasm naturally has a low temperature, and on a good day, I’ve measured mine to be around 0C°. It is also a fairly good conductor as well. These traits are nowhere near powerful enough to be labeled as separate quirks, but I can see how his body might have adapted to handle those two quirks.” 

So All For One didn’t choose these quirks randomly, but rather because he knew about the properties of ectoplasm already. Shouta believed that Ectoplasm’s quirk was unique, or at least very rare. How could All For One know that much about it in the first place? There were also the warehouses and underground bunkers to consider. The Nomu’s were floating in a green liquid that now under new context seems to have been ectoplasm. Principal Nezu hadn’t given him the results of the tests and for some reason seemed to be hiding it. There were so many questions that buzzed in Shouta’s mind. First being how much did principal Nezu truly know about Phantom and All For One, and second, how did All For One get so much ectoplasm?

“Anything to comment, Mr. Aizawa?” Principal Nezu asked from across the table.

“No,” Shouta shot down, “Only thinking.”

“As for melting a rat,” Ectoplasm paused to think, “Ectoplasm is a very acidic material. When I first started out, I had to go through a multitude of costumes until I found one that didn’t break down after a few uses. The one I currently use is made up of my cells, the same as Mirio Togata’s costume. It’s not hard to imagine it being able to break down a rat or other organic material.” 

“Ah! Thank you for the insight, Ectoplasm,” principal Nezu praised, “Now let's hear more from Mr. Aizawa.”

“Right,” Shouta thought for a moment to remember where he left off, “After the hero altercation, I was called into the Commission to join a task force against Phantom along with Sir Nighteye,” he nodded at the hero, “their representative informed us that we would be tracking Phantom using a device that they developed. Apparently, they were able to track down a type of radiation specific to him. The method isn’t perfect since the same radiation spikes around large clusters of mutant holders or in places where quirks are used a lot. They even listed UA as an example.”

“That just means we can hide him here better,” principal Nezu countered. 

“That’s what I thought of when I heard it, too.” Shouta agreed. “My only worry is the effect of the radiation. It can cause increased appetite, emotional dysregulation and a short burst of quirk power.”

“So puberty, basically?” Hizashi joked. 

“I’m sure it will be no issue since they said UA had similar readings as Phantom. If it does turn out to be a problem, we can look into containing it somehow.” Principal Nezu reasoned. 

“My god,” Sir Nighteye whispered sharply, “You really are delusional! This isn’t a class pet that you put newspaper down for. This is an unpredictable, possibly unstable overpowered teenager that has a history of attacking heroes. Just look at what he did to Eraserhead!” He gestured at the hero across from him. 

The room went silent once more. Hizashi squeezed his hand but looked at him in hurt betrayal.

“Sho,” he said softly, “what does he mean by that?”

Shouta breathed in deeply to prepare himself, “A few hours ago, Phantom attacked Endeavor.” He let the words sink into the air. 

“PRINCIPAL NEZU, IS THIS TRUE?!” All Might briefly transformed then reverted back in an instant, blood coming out of his mouth. He looked like he would fall over. Sir Nighteye helped steady him and they both sat back down. 

“I was vaguely aware of the situation but was not able to get a full report on it yet.” He confirmed. 

A somber mood settled into the room. Something uneasy wafted in from those words at the implications. The other heroes realized what they were up against. Shouta wanted to stand up and defend Phantom. They had no idea what actually happened or what Phantom was like, but he was in a difficult position. 

“I was able to break up the fight between him and Phantom, but in doing so got caught in the crossfire,” Shouta explained. He tried to sound as matter of fact as he could.

“I was there, too,” Snipe stood up. He took off his hat as if he were paying respects at a funeral. “I got there after he had already struck Eraserhead. The boy didn’t make any other moves, but I did have to fire a few warning shots.”

“You scared him off is what you did!” Shouta couldn’t help himself. He had failed that boy over and over again, he couldn’t fail him again. 

“Sho,” Hizashi tried to soothe him but Shouta didn’t listen. 

“None of you saw him. He was clearly disoriented and wasn’t acting like himself,”

“And you know him so well?” Sir Nighteye asked, suspicion laced his voice like poison. 

Shouta bit his lip, thinking what to say, “Before I was recruited into the task force I had… 

brief run-ins with him and had gotten to know his character.”

“You what?!” Sir Nighteye exploded. He slammed both his hands on the table shaking everyone’s drinks, “Why didn’t you tell the Commission? We could’ve avoided this whole ordeal in the first place and be done with him!”

“And let the Commission do god knows what to an innocent kid?” Shouta returned the same energy. Hizashi grabbed his arm to get him to sit back down but Shouta didn’t back down. 

“He is not innocent!” Sir Nighteye rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Need I remind you how many heroes he attacked? You are a part of that number now, I cannot understand why you’re trying to protect him!” 

“He was just scared!” Shouta bit back, “We have been hunting him since Hosu. He doesn’t know who we are or what our intentions are. He was defending himself!”

“And that gives him the right to just beat up whoever he wants? What if he does the same to another hero who can’t handle it! Or god forbid a civilian!”

“Phantom wouldn’t do that! In all his vigilante reports, he never used excessive force against the Villains! Just enough to knock them out.”

“Just like Endeavor?!”

“Endeavors was probably hitting just as hard. You wouldn’t be saying the same thing about him if Phantom was the one on the ground.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” he had a frantic look on his face, “Because Endeavor is a hero and Phantom is a villain. Endeavor has the right to do whatever it takes to take him down. Simple as that.” Sir Nighteye said it with finality. 

“He doesn’t,” Shouta seethed, “Phantom is just a scared confused kid with too much power. He needs someone to help him, someone to show him that not everyone will hurt him! Not some hero on a power trip with no restraint!” Shouta barked out.

“And that’s what we are trying to do at UA,” principal Nezu interrupted, seeing no end to the argument. Both heroes slowly sat back down, but were glaring daggers at each other. 

“Principal Nezu,” Sir Nighteye spoke up again, “I cannot in good conscience help you with whatever you are planning, but if you do manage to succeed,” he sighed, “Give me a call. I will lend you use of my quirk and see the ramifications of such a decision.” He looked tired. 

“Consider it done,” principal Nezu laughed. “Anyone have any questions?”

All Might raised his hand and stood up, “What if we are able to capture Phantom?”

“Then we will treat him like any other student,” Principal Nezu answered.

“Yes, but what about,” All Might’s voice went quiet, “The League?”

He was referring to All For One, but nobody could know that. How would the villain react if he found out that UA had his supposed son? What lengths would he go through to make sure he gets him back?

“I am planning on implementing a dorm system at the school to make sure our staff and students are safe from all outside threats. It will be designed specifically to keep them out and ensure the safety of our students.”

“Will that be enough?” Nemuri asked. 

“It will have to.”

“I have just one more question,” All Might stood up, “Why are we doing this? Why go through all this trouble for a kid who might be the end of us?

“Because that is the best outcome for Phantom, and for us. Would you rather the Commission hold him? The League? We have no idea what their plans are for that boy, but it’s obvious neither should be trusted. Here, we can at least provide him support and guide him to a better tomorrow. It’s clear the boy needs help and some sort of counseling. He is just another victim in this like any of our other students. Principal Nezu smiled, “you said it yourself, All Might, ‘because saving someone is the always the right thing to do.’”

All Might sat back down, defeated by his own words. 

“If that’s all?” Principal Nezu looked around the room but no other hero moved to ask anything. “Now that you know the stakes, we can discuss how to proceed. If Endeavor taught us anything it’s that we have to be more careful in how we approach Phantom. If you see him, act friendly but not overwhelmingly so. He cannot see you or UA as a threat, so no more ‘warning shots,’ hmm?” he looked to Snipe, “Phantom is not someone who you can force into doing something he doesn’t want to. Right now, Mr. Aizawa has the best chance at recruiting Phantom, so it’s best to keep your distance and support him if you can.” 

With that, the meeting was over, but it didn’t feel like they accomplished anything. Sir Nighteye was the first to exit the room, not even looking back at All Might. Nemuri went along with the other teachers when it was clear nothing more was to be said. They all still had preparations to make. 

Recovery Girl walked over to Shouta and Hizashi, who still clung to him like a lifeline. Shouta really didn’t deserve him. He owed him a long talk and explanations. Right now though, he would just take pleasure in his company.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Recovery Girl asked. She had a look of concern on her that said it went beyond his physical injuries. 

“I’m alright,” Shouta said, “just tired and sore.”

“Your injuries probably aren’t helping, huh?” she cocked her head, “Well I can help with the soreness but I’m afraid I’ll only make you more tired.”

“Thank you, Recovery Girl,” Shouta bowed and leaned down so she could kiss his forehead. 

A rush of air filled his lungs and Shouta was able to breathe clearly again through his nose. Not only that, but some of the muscle and leg pain from the last few days went away. She was truly the gem of the school. 

She smiled, happy to be able to help him if only a little, “You better get some rest now,” she warned.

“Trust me,” Hizashi stared him down, “He will. He has a few weeks to make up for.”

Recovery Girl laughed at the threat and waddled away. Shouta and Hizashi both stood up, ready to make the short journey back home and just rest together. Shouta needed to buy Hizashi CDs and whatever takeout he wanted for the next month for putting up with him. 

His mind idly went back to Phantom. Shouta still worried about him but he would make due on his promise to give the boy time. Phantom had his number and address after all. He will come to him when he’s ready and not because he’s forced to. This would be alright.

~🥇~

Only principal Nezu and Toshinori were left in the room. So much has happened in the last hour that Toshinori was still trying to screw his head back on. Not only had he been reunited with his former sidekick (an event he’d thought he’d never live to see), but he had learned so much about Phantom than he had ever hoped before.

Guilt weld up inside him when he thought of the young boy. He was another one of All For One’s victims but at the same time it was hard to look past the family resemblance. Toshinori had to remember that the first user was All For One’s own brother and was just as much a victim as the boy. Still, it was hard to separate the two of them. Phantom attacking Endeavor just complicated matters. 

Before, he could almost imagine the boy as a little kid in the corner of a cell, scared of every outside noise and face. But now? Now Toshinori knew that wasn’t the case. Everytime he thinks of Phantom he sees the cell’s bars pulled and blasted apart like a violent criminal escaping. Adding in his unstable nature, he was a bomb about to explode. 

Toshinori was worried for Aizawa as well. While they weren’t overly friendly, they were still colleagues (he even tried to get closer to the hero but with little success). The hero had gotten too attached over someone who could so easily hurt him. Phantom had already hurt him, but he was still so intent on saving him. It went beyond what a normal teacher would do for a child, let alone a child who wasn’t even his student. Aizawa wasn’t a normal teacher though. When he saw a kid, he accepted that kid as his responsibility and would do anything it took to save them, even at the cost of his life. It was such an obvious cry for help and projection of his own failures. 

Toshinori had heard Aizawa lost a friend when he was barely older than young Midoriya. That’s why Aizawa had to try so hard for his students, even at the cost of everything. 

“What are you really planning with Phantom?” Toshinori asked principal Nezu. He was almost scared to say it. 

He couldn’t help but question the principal’s motives. He kept too many secrets hidden, even with people who were concerned or who needed to know. Perhaps it came from the paranoia and fear that he’ll end up on the dissection table again. 

Nezu had his back to him and was organizing papers on his desk. He turned around and still held onto that smile that had only ever dropped a few times, but his eyes were completely blank and had a manic edge to them. Toshinori had seen that look many times and it never failed to unnerve him. 

“What am I planning?” Principal Nezu said in a sing-song voice, “I’m going to have him take down the Commission, of course!”

#danny phantom #dp #dp fic #danny fenton #dp x bnha #dp crossover #mha #dp cross #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha aizawa #aizawa #present mic #eraserhead #hizashi yamada #erasermic #yamada #asleep in the keep

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Cry for the Moon

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader

Warnings: none

A/N: We are about to arrive at the Crossroads of Destiny and I am so freaking excited for it!!! Ever since I have started working on this story, I have been daydreaming from time to time about what I wanted to do once they all go back to the Fire Nation - which will be happening soon enough ^.^ hope you enjoy this chapter!

Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart @4l3x1s @potato87123 @asciendo @angelruinz @unamused-boss @junieshohoho @yourlivewire @itszzmoon @coolgirl458 @vyliie @6000-fandoms @aerikim246 @mymummydustxx @xenop0p @saikikusouswife @marsbars09 @stell404

Once again, the amber eyes full of sorrow, disappointment and fury appeared out in the dark the moment he closed his eyes. Zuko took a deep breath as he stood up from where he lied on the deck and walked towards the railings. Everyone else was deep in sleep.

The look of disgust on his face was almost shouting out how much he hated being on that damned ferry. He hated being a refuge, and he hated having to eat disgusting leftovers. He was sick of everything that had been happening to him lately. But still, none of those haunted him the way she did.

Ever since their encounter, Zuko hadn’t been able to get any sleep without the ghost of her words hanging around his neck as if it was some heavy rope. He had long known how heartbreaking it should have been for her, hearing those harsh words from him; however, what he had encountered that day was way worse than what he had been anticipating.

She wasn’t only heartbroken – no. She was angry, disappointed, and most importantly, she had been lying to herself for the last three years. It had never occurred to Zuko that she would, at some point, make herself believe that everything had been a lie. That Zuko had never really loved her. That everything had been part of a plan.

And the worse part – it did hurt him, knowing she had so little trust in his love for her so that she had managed to make herself believe in such a huge lie for the last three years.

Being replaced by Azula was enough to make Zuko feel all different kinds of green because of jealousy, and knowing how his place was being filled only made everything even more unbearable. It felt like a nightmare from which he couldn’t wake up, no matter how hard he would try.

What if there is someone else? The poisonous thoughts slowly crept into Zuko’s mind as his eyes got lost inside the dark, deep waters of the sea. I knew it would be inevitable the moment I left her behind but I never thought how real this could get.

The truth was, Zuko didn’t know whether he could bear seeing her with someone else, finding comfort in someone’s arms other than his. During his banishment, he avoided this very thought every time it tried to come out into the light from that dark, dusty corner it was hidden. He didn’t let himself consider such a possibility; however, now knowing that she had made herself believe she had been never really loved by him, it could very well be the case that she was already over him.

Even the simplest thought about it was enough to bring Zuko on the verge of throwing up.

Shaking his head, the Banished Prince wrapped his arms around his torso, slowly heading back to where he was sleeping before. I need to get some more sleep, he thought as he laid himself down on the hard floor once more that night. I don’t know how long I can go on like this.

[POV Change]

“You were wrong, though. I did love you. Every single day.”

Hearing Azula call out your name made you come back to reality as you straightened your back while riding your mongoose lizard. Ever since you faced Zuko, you were being haunted by the last words he said. Whenever you were left alone with your thoughts, his voice kept echoing in your ears, driving you crazy.

“What did you say, Azula?” You asked, causing the Princess to roll her eyes at you.

“I said that we have caught up with the Avatar.” She said and frowned. “Have you been daydreaming again?”

Ty Lee chuckled upon seeing the way you averted Azula’s gaze. “Azula, don’t get mad – she is simply missing her boyfriend!”

You winked at Ty Lee. “See, she gets it!” You spoke playfully and turned your gaze to meet Azula’s. “We haven’t been apart this long before – it is kind of difficult to get used to.”

Every single time, you ended up more amused with your lying skills and how naturally it came to you.

Azula rolled her eyes once more.

“Why didn’t you bring him with you?” Ty Lee asked curiously, completely unaware of how stupid her question sounded, which made you realise that she hadn’t met Shuzi at all – she did run away before you started dating him.

Azula and you ended up laughing before responding to Ty Lee’s question. “Oh, sorry – it’s just, when you know Shuzi, such a question sounds way too funny.” You said as you took a deep breath. “He is a total sweetheart, but he cannot fight – I think he would have a heart attack if he had to face the earthbender girl traveling with the Avatar.”

“We cannot allow anyone to weigh us down on this mission,” Azula added. “So, he wasn’t even invited in the first place.”

“Oh,” Ty Lee’s cheeks carried a light shade of pink, she probably felt silly for asking such a dumb question. “I just… I never thought you would be with someone who isn’t as much of a fighter as you are.”

Azula sent you an I-told-you-so look. “See, she gets it!” She repeated what you said earlier, causing you to roll your eyes this time. “Wait until you see him, Ty Lee – she can do much better and she insists on not acknowledging that she is settling for less!”

It was common knowledge that Azula never approved your relationship with Shuzi. She didn’t hate him, of course, but she didn’t like him either. At first, you found it quite annoying that she criticized him all the damn time; however, after understanding the reason behind it, her words stopped annoying you.

This was Azula’s way of showing that she cared about you, and she wanted you to have the best. Hence, seeing you settling for less didn’t really make her happy.

Ty Lee shrugged. “I mean, she did do better.” She said casually, completely ignoring the fact that Mai was still there with you. “I believe it is quite hard to find someone better than the Crown Prince himself, right?”

“Well,” you spoke with a cold tone. “The said jerk isn’t coming home anytime soon.”

“And even if he did come home, I don’t believe you would forgive him just like that.” Azula said as she snapped her fingers. You simply nodded.

Mai tried to shift the subject back to Shuzi to avoid feeling more uncomfortable than she already did. “I never understood what you see in Shuzi in the first place.”

The edge of your lips curled upwards as you thought about how happy he made you, which pushed away all those weird feelings Zuko and the remnants of your past relationship had been stirring within you. “He just… makes me happy. He loves me so much and he does everything he can to make me happy. Also, he is super sweet, and we spend the best of times when we are together.” Sending a quick look at Mai, you raised an eyebrow at her. “Was that enough reason for you?”

Carrying the same old indifference on her, the raven-haired girl shrugged. “Whatever.”

Azula cleared her throat. “What I understand from what you have just said is that he indeed loves you, but you don’t really love him, do you?” Her words made you frown as you waited for her to elaborate more on what she was pointing at. “If he stopped spoiling you and making you happy, you wouldn’t let him hang around much longer – correct me if I’m wrong.”

To your relief, your eyes found the Avatar’s flying bison before you had to answer Azula’s question. She had touched a point which you had been carefully avoiding ever since you went on this mission with her and, to be honest, you didn’t really intend to think about it for now. The topic was complicated, you feared the conclusion you could come to, and more importantly, you had the feeling that it could somehow lead up to starting an internal discussion about your past with Zuko.

I don’t have time for this.

“Ladies, that is enough gossip for today.” You said as you pointed at the flying bison. “We have found them.”

Azula’s amber eyes shone with victory as she started to move her arms in a circular motion. Not long after, lightning stroke the tree near the flying bison, causing it to fall down and block the path. “My, my, you are easy to find.” Azula was speaking mainly to the Avatar but he wasn’t to be seen, yet. “It is really astounding that my brother hasn’t captured you yet.”

As you all arrived by bison on your mongoose lizards, a group of girls came into sight. They were in bright green kimonos with black, torso armour and dark green pants. However, the most prominent feature of their look was their unique make-up: their whole face was painted in white other than their red lips and the red paint over their eyes, lined up by black paint as well. It slowly came to your attention that they were all carrying different kinds of golden head pieces.

Wait a second, I think I have seen this kind of face paint before… Was it in one of my books?

The girls suddenly took a v-formation and with a swift movement, they all reached for their fans while activating their shields which carried the Earth Kingdom insignia. “What do you want with us?” The girl standing on the front spoke, she seemed to be the leader.

“Who are you?” Azula asked with a condescending tone. “The Avatar’s fan girls?”

Ty Lee started giggling as soon as she got the joke. “Oh, I get it. Good one, Azula!”

The leader spoke with a strong voice. “If you are looking for the Avatar, you are out of luck.”

You didn’t bother hiding the shocked expressing appearing on your face. Why is the Avatar not travelling with his bison in the first place? This doesn’t make any sense.

Unless… They are separated.

Mai sighed. “I knew this was a waste of time,” she muttered with her voice as lifeless as ever.

Azula raised an eyebrow. “No Avatar, huh? Well, that’s okay.” As she jumped off the mongoose lizard, she firebended at the flying bison. “Any friend of the Avatar is an enemy of mine!”

Taking the hint, you jumped off your lizard as well, following Azula into the fight. While you used your firebending to create a giant fireball, the fighter girls protected the bison by moving their shields together. However, they weren’t ready for the heavy fireball coming right at them with full speed – your attack ended up knocking them all from their feet.

At the meanwhile, Mai pinned one of the girls to a tree. “You are so colourful; it is making me nauseous!” She complained loudly while throwing a bunch of darts at another one. The girl reached for her sword just in time to deflect the darts; however, she ended up getting chi-blocked by Ty Lee.

“You are not prettier than we are!” Ty Lee shouted at the girl.

You rolled your eyes at Ty Lee as you performed a backwards flip in the air, all the while firing blasts from your fists and your feet around you. The edge of your lips curled upwards as you heard one of the girls screaming and falling facedown onto the ground.

“By the way,” you spoke cooly while looking at the almost unconscious girl with the burnt kimono. “That is one really ugly shade of green.”

The leader of the fighter girls deflected another blast from Azula, which ended up setting the fallen tree on fire. The flying bison started acting in a frightened way upon seeing the fire, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you approached Azula.

“Afraid of fire?” You asked, only to earn a small chuckle from Azula.

“That is good,” the Princess said while looking at the bison. “You should be.”

[Time Skip]

You kept looking at their awfully familiar makeup as the prisoners were carefully put onboard the tank train. The itching in your brain was enough sign to tell you that you knew who (or what) these girls were – you just couldn’t remember it! Their makeup seemed to remind you of someone else, some famous Earth Kingdom person who also wore a similar kimono and used fans for airbending…

Your amber eyes widened with realisation. Airbending?!

“I know!” You almost shouted without noticing, causing the leader of the warriors to leap up in her place. She was going to be the last to board the tank train since Azula wanted her to see all the others being dragged in, one by one. This was one of her strategies to break the leader’s strength. “Azula, these are the Kyoshi Warriors!”

The Princess turned to look at you with a frown on her face. “Oh, that explains the… interesting makeup.” She muttered, earning a nod from you. “But aren’t they supposed to live on an island?”

With a sceptic look in your eyes, you turned your look to the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors. “Indeed, they are supposed to be on the Kyoshi Island near Southern Watertribe, not on the way to Ba Sing Se.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you asked her. “What are you and your friends doing here?”

The hatred in her blue eyes was so dense that it could materialise any second. “Because some of your friends burnt down our village while hunting down the Avatar!” She spit out the words as if they were venom. “We then decided to help out the others here, in Earth Kingdom, who also had their fair share of the brutality of the Fire Nation!”

You had a feeling that this friend could be someone you knew. “Do you remember who exactly burnt down your village?” You asked, completely ignoring her latest remark. “I can guarantee you, none of us have been anywhere near Kyoshi Island lately.”

She shook her head as she closed her eyes tightly. “I don’t know his name – he had this weird ponytail and a scar on his face.”

“Yep,” you said as you turned to face Azula. “Definitely Zuko.”

The Princess rolled her eyes.

After the guards took the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors also inside, Azula spoke to you with a low voice and a naughty shimmer in her amber eyes. “I think I know how I am going to conquer Ba Sing Se.”

Your jaw dropped upon hearing her words, you immediately stopped in your tracks and turned to face the Princess. “How to… what?!” It was hard to tell whether she was being serious or sarcastic. “Ba Sing Se?”

Azula placed one of her hands on your shoulder. “You have read all about these Kyoshi Warriors, right?” You nodded. “Then you must also know whether they would be trusted allies to the Earth King.”

Still not getting her point, you frowned while you searched for all the information you had about the Kyoshi Warriors in your memory. “As far as I know, these girls are an elite order of female warriors with no official loyalty to any nation – they just care about protecting their homeland.” Placing your hand under your chin, you dove deeper into your thoughts. “However, considering Kyoshi Island is formally part of Earth Kingdom, I can imagine they could arrange an audience with the Earth King without much difficulty.”

A satisfied smile formed on Azula’s lips. “Excellent,” she said as she pulled you behind herself into the tank train. “I guess the kimono of their leader should fit me – what do you say?”

[Time Skip]

To your left and right were guards in Earth Kingdom uniform, they all stood in a single line without letting their gaze leave you and the others. You didn’t remember feeling that observed your whole life and the feeling wasn’t exactly pleasant. It made you aware of every little thing your body did – from breathing to winking to the sweat forming on the nape of your neck.

Following the footsteps of the warrior in front of you, you realised how faster your heart started to beat as you came closer and closer to the Earth King.

“In our hour of need, it is with the highest honour that I welcome our esteemed allies, the Kyoshi Warriors!” The Earth King announced with great joy in his voice as you bowed down in front of him, just like the others.

The warrior in front of you raised her head to look at the Earth King. You and the other two girls followed her lead.

“We are the Earth King’s humble servants.” Azula spoke with an evil spark in her amber eyes.

#prince zuko #atla zuko #zuko x reader #the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #princess azula #zuko #zuko x oc

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 17: Repair

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 16

March 1986

The news has been replaying the same story all day. It should be shocking, sort of is, but Julie’s kind of numb to it at this point. Each year, like clockwork, something big happens. Something this small town hasn’t faced in decades. A kid missing, turned up dead, just to be found alive again. A government laboratory had a gas leak that caused the death of many more people. The mall catches on fire causing a mass casualty. Now this.

She was awoken by sirens this morning. Ruined what was supposed to be a day where she slept till noon. It was spring break; she was allowed to be lazy. But instead, the spring break was wrapped up by police tape. The cause of a whole new type of stress.

Beloved student of Hawkins High School, Crissy Cunningham, found dead in the Munson’s trailer. Eddie Munson, the prime suspect, still at large. The body, found by Wayne Munson, a hard-working man of the community, is disfigured beyond belief. The police don’t have enough evidence to make a statement. But are advising the public to be aware and alert the police of any suspicious behavior.

Julie doesn’t know Eddie that well. They’ve only been neighbors, acquaintances. Sure, he drove her to school a few times. Made sure that she got there safely and was an ear when she needed to rant. But that didn’t make them friends. That didn’t make them close.

It didn’t take an idiot to see that Eddie wasn’t as big as scary as he was chalked up to see. Unfortunately, this town was full of idiots. Ready to point their fingers to the person the papers blame. Since they were already so influenced that metal music was from the devil and all dungeons and dragon’s players were Satan worshippers. It only took one headline for them to believe that. What’s stopping them from believing it now?

The evidence is damning. Wayne worked last night so it can’t be him. Multiple witnesses saw Chrissy leave with Eddie after the game last night. He is a known drug dealer, which most people would say is a step away from murder. His van was heard by the entire trailer park at both their entrance and his exit.

But there was one thing that Julie’s not sure anyone really heard. His screams.

Trailer parks are a hive for nosy neighbors fueled by the powers of thin walls. Lots of open air for noise to travel. It was nice outside last night, so Julie sat out on their little porch with a book. Peacefully reading.

Until Eddie pulled up with music blaring out the windows. Slamming on the breaks before he crashes straight into his own trailer. Right before the queen herself gets out of the car and walks right through his front door.

Julie says she’s better than gossip, but this she just had to know. Had to witness. Two people who never interact, going into an empty trailer. A recipe for disaster.

And disaster it was. Not long after, Julie can hear some yelling from the trailer. Something about waking up. Chrissy not being able to hear Eddie. It just increasing in volume until it devolves into a terrified scream. Then Eddie runs out of his trailer, gets into his van, and speeds away.

Julie doesn’t know a lot about how murderers act, but she can guess they don’t normally scream while killing their victims. That’s a pretty obvious sign that something’s wrong. But the police just brush her off when she tells them. The arrest has already written itself.

. . .

Present Day, April 1987

It’s been almost two full weeks since Steve and Julie moved into the new house, and Steve still feels off about it all. About taking the next step in the case. Passing the point of no return.

Steve doesn’t know what to do. It’s like he’s being backing into a corner. On the one hand, he could drop this and make himself a fool to his parents, to his friends, probably a good bit of the town. Or he can go through with it just to drag up his baggage all over again. Feel like shit all over again.

He doesn’t know what to do.

Then there’s all the other stuff. The looming piles of bills in his future, the fact that they still don’t have a couch. That Steve still doesn’t have a proper mattress. And the fridge is getting kind of empty, so he needs to go shopping soon.

These are new worries for him. Making a strict budget and making sure it’s enforced. Saying no to the kids when they want something, forcing Robin and Eddie to pay their share of the meals when they go out. Even though it was really always him ensuring he was alright paying the bill. Making small stacks of coupons and waiting deals to show up in the paper. It’s a lot.

Steve’s never been poor before. Not to say that he is now. Well, he kind of is. He has a good bit of debt because of this loan and lost a large chunk, most, of his savings to buying this house and the initial furniture. Paychecks are split between bills, food, Julie, savings, and then him. He’s the last on his list of priorities.

It’s all bringing up more issues, as if it already wasn’t enough. He’s always been the friend that picks up everyone’s tab. Pays for the check, the parties, the supplies, the fancy gifts. It’s all been from his money. His dad’s money. Which he doesn’t have anymore.

He knows it’s stupid to think that the friends he has now would care about that. Just because his old friends definitely would have. But these guys, they care more about the money. About the name. What Steve can give them.

Sometimes, it just doesn’t feel like it.

Steve’s always been a giver. It felt wrong to keep what he had just to himself. He never took, just gave. What would he be when there was nothing left to give?

Julie shuts the door just a hair away from a slam when she gets home. Giving her bedroom door a harsher treatment. It squeaks all the way shut. He’s been meaning to fix that, hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

She’s been like this ever since they moved. Her demeanor shifting almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to the stress, having a new place that didn’t feel right. The change uncomfortably itching beneath the skin.

But after a week went by and it was the same thing every day, he knew something was up.

He walks over to her door, knocking lightly.

“What,” Julie yells through the door.

Steve’s taken aback. “How was school?” he asks calmly. 

She whips the door open. “Fine,” she huffs. “That all?”

“You ok?” he asks as if the question didn’t answer itself already.

“Yeah,” Julie rolls her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Steve crosses his arms. “You sure? Cause to me it seems like you’re upset about something. You know you can talk to me about this stuff.”

“Whatever.” Julie slams the door in his face.

It takes all Steve has to not rip the door open and give a whole lecture on how rude that was. To restrain himself from stepping into old shoes. To react differently than his father would have. Come back when the moment dies down and the anger stops bubbling. To be better. To be him.

Whatever he is at the moment.   

. . .

Julie tears another piece of paper out of her notebook. Crumpling it in her hands and throwing it across the room, watching it miss the trashcan. Landing next to the other balls of paper. Each one being more wrong than the last.

She should be doing homework. There’s an essay due for her English class in a few days and she hasn’t gotten around to writing it. Too busy with the move, then the adjusting. Now this. The same thoughts over and over again in her mind. All of them screaming that this can’t be happening right now.

Every time Julie thinks she can have any sort of break, another thing comes along just to punch her down again. Her mom died, then she moved, then she moved again, then she started getting better but that’s this whole other thing, then she gets kicked out, moves again. Now she has a crush on one of her best friends. What a great fucking life this is.

Julie tugs at the roots of her hair, pushing her fingers under the tightness of her braid. Hoping if she squeezes long enough, the unwanted thoughts will just leave. She’ll be able to think of a theme in the Catcher in the Rye that speaks to her enough to get five pages out of. Be able to write enough in her stupid notebook that makes sense. Get her grades back to where they were before and her life back together again.

Falling apart is a tune run dry and Julie’s tired of playing it. All she wants to do is go back to being normal. Like she was a year ago. Happy, kinda pissed at the world in different ways, but happy. Where there was something that didn’t quite make sense with the way she felt about girls, but it was easy to brush it all off. And her mom came home smelling like syrup and bacon grease instead of alcohol. Her knew sobriety chip kept proudly in the pocket of her apron. Constantly reminding her what the tips really needed to be spent on.

Life was good. It was normal. It was everything. Julie misses everything.

She misses the way the house always smelled a little stale and like mildew. The flowery candle her mom burned doing nothing to cover it up. She misses the way she would trip on the pile of shoes by the door. And how the singular hook on the wall would always drop her coat so much she started to throw it over a chair. How the kitchen would always be a little bit messy, and there would be dishes in the sink and pots on the stove. The couch that had it’s built in divot made by someone else with cushions that were squished beyond compare. Doors that fell off hinges every year or so and the sounds of the radio flowing through the walls.

All of it aches in her heart the more she moves on. The more she grows away from the place she called home. Having to keep retracing it all in her mind so she won’t forget it. Hold her mom’s sweatshirt close to her nose and pray to smell her cheap perfume again. But all that’s there is Julie. All there is left is Julie.

Julie is the only thing left of her mom other than the picture sitting on her desk. Which sucks for so many reasons she can’t find the words to explain. Mainly because looking in the mirror gets harder. Each time looking a little less like herself than the day before. Not quite knowing who she is anymore.

Reflections almost heighten to the imperfections on Julie’s face. The darkness underneath her eyes, the red dots forming on her chin and forehead. The fakeness of her smile, the way it can’t seem to reach her eyes quite right. Growing into a face that lost its childhood. Fighting to keep all she can of what’s left.

Growing up was always going to be hard. Slowly seeing herself morph away from childhood dreams and expectations. Having them crushed by the cruel realities of the world. Having memories trapped in confines of the mind that can’t seem to be open again. Becoming someone is hard in a normal life, let alone one with as many hurdles as Julie’s.

Julie can’t even begin to fathom what she would say to herself half a year ago, five years ago. How could she crush that little girl’s dreams right before her eyes. Witnessing the pain from the outside rather than the in. Tell her that there would be no princess wedding, or even one at all. That her mom wouldn’t even be there if she could. Gone far too soon. She left Julie far too soon.

Childhood isn’t missed until it’s stripped away. Until it can never return. For what its worst, Julie’s mom made sure she had it for as long as possible. Before the inevitable kicked in and took it away for her.

Now Julie’s filled with hate again. At herself. At Steve for trying. At him for not being who she wants on the other side of the door. A constant reminder that this good thing could only come once her mom was gone. Finally, a house, but without the mother to make it a home.

It’s not fair to blame him, she knows that. Can hear the upcoming words of her therapist as she relays this all to him in the next session. How she’s placing Steve in a box that he was never meant to fill. Just because the emptiness was too crushing to face in whole.

Giving up on the homework, Julie lies on her bed. The new mattress smell still seeping through the covers. She takes her Walkman and presses play on whatever’s in there. Noise blasting through her ears, loud enough to hopefully cover these thoughts. She grabs a pillow, wanting to squeeze something close to her chest. All of her childhood stuffed animals gone with the first move. Another piece of her that is forever lost.

The tears start to form, and Julie lets them fall.

. . .

The next day doesn’t seem to be any better. She insists on biking to school today. Doesn’t really make it a choice as she hoes straight from her room to the door. Without saying as much as a goodbye.

Steve doesn’t push. Thinks it would be best after the outburst yesterday.

The last time Julie acted like this was her mom’s birthday. Where she was hurting so bad that she decided to hit at the closest target. If that’s what she needs to do again, he’d be happy to take it all. Hold some of the hurt so she didn’t have too anymore. Distract him from his own hurt at the moment.

It’s so bad that she forgets her lunch on the counter. Even though it would probably have ended in the garbage. Like how last night’s dinner landed right into a container to be revisited later. Still sitting in the fridge when Steve went to make breakfast this morning.

He’s not quite sure the last time she’s eaten more than half her plate. Too busy with his own stuff to notice her dip back in her progress. Kicking himself that he didn’t see it all sooner. That it took for her slamming a door in his face to understand how bad it had really gotten. Not like he could have stopped it. But it might have helped.

“That conversation you had with Julie while me and Eddie were out getting the pizza,” Steve says while explaining the situation to Robin. “Was that about her mom? About the move?”

Robin takes a second to think. Physically stopping and starting her movements a few times before speaking. “No, it was about something else.”

Something else. Steve didn’t know about a something else. “Was it because of me?”

“No, no. It was just something really private that she wanted to talk to me about. I would tell you but it’s really not my place to.”

Steve ignores the alarm bell ringing in his head. She’ll tell him about it, whatever it is, when she’s ready. “But you would if you thought it had anything to do with the way she’s acting.”

Robin shrugs. “It depends. If I thought, it would help. But honestly,” she takes a deep breath. “I think telling you about it might make it a million times worse.”

“Make what a million times worse?” Eddie asks after walking in. Sliding into his designated spot at Steve’s side and placing a kiss to the side of his head.

Robin rolls her eyes. “You guys can’t be this happy while Nancy’s away at school.”

“Oh boohoo.” Eddie sticks out his tongue.

“I thought you had work today?” Steve asks Eddie.

He shrugs. “I’m sick.”

“You’re going to be jobless if you keep calling out for no damn reason,” Robin chastises.

“Well clearly, I was needed elsewhere because there is a situation that needs dealing with. Make what worse? By a million times?”

Robin rolls her eyes again, gesturing Steve to fill Eddie in on the situation.

“Julie’s hitting a low point again, she slammed a door in my face yesterday.”

“Do you think it’s about her mom?” Eddie gets a soda out of the fridge and sits on the countertop.

It could be. One of the first things Julie said when she saw the house was how it reminded her or her mom. How a place like this was all her mom ever wanted for the two of them. That had to drag up some feelings. Especially since they were now living here.

Steve shrugs. “It could be. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”

But there was something else. Either the thing she talked about with Robin or him pushing yesterday. Something going on in school. Anything.

There were so many places to mess up. For Steve to fuck up something that didn’t just involve him. He’s bad at dealing with things. Pretending his problems don’t exist so he doesn’t have to think about them. Or lashing out just to feel more powerful than them.

Steve just didn’t want Julie to feel like she had to keep it in. That she had to keep the war in her mind because no one cared enough to listen. Or that she would burden him just for talking to him about it. He wanted her to be better than himself. Maybe that was too high of an expectation to have.

“Just talk to her about it,” Robin says softly. “She’s always come around to telling you how she feels. She just needed to blow off a little steam, that’s all.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Maybe was a lot of things right now. None of them made Steve feel any better.

“Hey,” Eddie kicks Steve gently. “What’s really going on? Other than the Julie thing?”

“It’d be easier to say what isn’t going on than what is?” Steve pulls out one of the metal folding chairs from their makeshift kitchen/dining table and sits down. It squeaks under his weight, proving his point for him. “Maybe I bit off more than I can chew.”

Robin pulls out the chair next to him. “You did what you had to. It just happened to be very overwhelming.”

“I’m not talking about that. Well, I am but not really. It’s just,” Steve takes a deep breath. “This case. If I’m still going through with it. It’s just adding more to the pile and I’m now realizing I didn’t really think it through as much as I should’ve.”

“What do you mean,” Eddie interrupts. “You seemed liked you thought it over a lot, actually. Had evidence all laid out, contacted people, got witness statements. People to testify. Had multiple people who know their shit tell you that this was a good case. You checked off all the boxes.”

“Yeah, sure. But I don’t think I’d realized at the time that I might be going to court twice in a short amount of time.”

Steve asked Sarah a few weeks ago what it would take to make him the permanent guardian for Julie. Maybe even adopting her. If that’s what she wanted, he hasn’t brought that specifically up yet. Sarah mentioned something about permanent guardianship, since Julie’s only a year away from becoming an adult.

But no matter what, it probably leads to presenting his case before a judge. Having them make the final decision. With all the things that have happened in the past few weeks, and Sarah pulling some strings she shouldn’t have, the risk of relocation raised a bit. Making this permanent would get rid of the risk. Neither of them would have to worry about this anymore.

“Wait, twice,” Robin questions.

“Yeah, once for this case against my parents, twice to get permanent custody of Julie.”

“Is that something you guys have talked about?”

Steve shrugs. “A bit. She definitely wants to stay with me long term, and I said I’d start asking about the options. I just haven’t talked to her about which one she would prefer, since she’s got less than a year before she turns eighteen. Most of them involve at least going in front of a judge to prove that I have the means to care for her until she’s an adult.”

“And if this case falls through, it might look bad on you,” Eddie connects the dots.

“Exactly. And I’ll have to pay all the legal fees out of my own pocket where I would have gotten that back from the money I won.”

Then there was the reason for doing this all in the first place, getting them to understand what they did to him. How he was affected because of their neglect. Would they even listen? Would this change anything? Would this all just become another story to tell their friends?

They would go around telling their friends how much of a disappointment he is. How he is ungrateful of everything they’ve done for him. How he wouldn’t even be here without them. As if that makes up for the fact that they were never around.

Creating someone doesn’t immediately garner respect. It still has to be earned. Each time he was left, his respect, his love for his parents shrunk. Now all that is left is a sliver so small, yet it still feels like a mountain. Still crushing him.

He doesn’t want to be crushed by it anymore.

Steve gets up, goes to his room and pulls out all of the evidence he’s built. The entire case against his parents laid in a binder. Copies of bank and credit card statements. Highlighted lines of hotel stays and flights books. Lined up with dates that Steve could recall they missed. Birthdays and holidays lost. Memories begged to be made. Years gone.

Statements of the many nannies that he had. Each confirming their own payments, the lengths of their stays. Empty cards filled with not even the signature of their names. Cursive congratulations and happy birthdays printed instead. Hospital records that show his own signature on the discharge form. Mrs. Henderson’s name on the contact form since his parents couldn’t care to show up.

It was enough, it had to be.

He brings it out to the kitchen, laying it all out on the table. Asking Robin and Eddie to go through it. Tell him if they think it would be enough.

Witnesses, one of them asks. Steve could think of a few. One of the nannies had offered when he asked. She would still do it. Hopper said he would not only be a character witness, but also get the records for that one house party he broke up where Steve was caught underage drinking. How he had to drive him home, his parents nowhere to be seen. Nancy probably would too. She could tell the courts how she knew his parents were never home, even if he was seventeen.

It is enough.

Eddie grabs Steve’s hand. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Robin grabs his other hand. “If this would be too much, no one would blame you for walking away.”

Here in this small kitchen with old cabinets with squeaky hinges and tile that he absolutely hates. In a house that he bought on his own, for the family that he made, it’s finally starting to feel like a home.

The walls were never what made it empty. The unopened rooms and unused furniture. It was the energy that never flowed through the doors that made it devoid of all life. Sucking what it could from the person in it to make up for the loss. Now, as people come and go, as Steve and Julie live here, the house feels full.

With these people by his side that showed up by surprise. Chose him for whatever reason that he might never understand. But circumstances led them to each other, and they don’t leave. Even when he tried. Gave them the opportunity to. Yet, they stayed. Every. Single. Time. They helped him learn what home should feel like.

Steve is enough. He always was.

“I want to do this,” Steve says without a doubt in his voice. “Even if they still won’t believe it, or be pissed at me for the rest of their life. I want to show up to the court with rows of people behind me, while their side is empty. Show them the real thing they lost was me.”

. . .

When Julie gets home, she goes right to her room. Ignoring the happy mood Steve is in. Ignores the fact that she saw Eddie’s van drive down the street as she was biking home from school. Ignores the slight rumbles in her stomach and the ache in her legs. Lets her body fall limp onto her bed after her bag slips off her shoulder. Filled with work that won’t get done. Marked with a big red “F” when she turns them in blank.

Just adding on to how Julie is already feeling.

What would her mom say to her? Her daughter’s grade dipping. Another new home. Not eating. Slamming doors in the face of the one person who was beside her during all of this.

Liking girls.

She would pull some of her mom wisdom out of her ass for some of it. Not really helping or making much sense, but it worked out in the end. Julie always ended up figuring out something. Got better after some time and picked herself up again. Kept moving.

Time just keeps moving. It’s endless and doesn’t stop. Forcing all to move along with it. Whether they want to or not. Even when life gets in the way and forces them to stop. To become stuck. Julie feels stuck again. Did for a long time. It was easy to become stuck when there was security blanketed around her.

Julie doesn’t really feel like time moved as fast as it did. How it was six months, almost seven since her mom died. And Julie still feels like it was yesterday sometimes. Especially right now. Transported back to the day the police officers knocked on her door. Took her away. When she was frozen, but kept moving. Had to keep moving.

She doesn’t have to keep moving anymore. There’s no goal anymore. No checkmark in her progress or hurdle she has to jump over. Just a pile of tasks that are too overwhelming to acknowledge or unpack. So she lets them pile up. They aren’t important right now.

Julie winces when she tugs off a scab on her thumb. Starting the bleeding all over again. With a deep breath, she forces herself off the bed and to the bathroom. Digging for the first aid kit under the sink for another band aid. Ignoring her reflection in the mirror. The greasy strands of hair pulled back into a French braid. The dark circles around her eyes. That person isn’t her anymore.

Julie isn’t Julie right now. She’s something else. Unrecognizable. To herself. To her mom. To anyone.

“Hey, Julie,” Steve says before she can escape back to her room.

She takes another deep breath, ready to push him away again. Not ready for a talk. “What?” she asks, too tired to even sound pissed.

Steve holds out the phone. “Phone for you.”

Julie presses her lips together, taking the phone and holding it closer to her ear. Curling around herself. “Hello.”

“Julie, it is me, El.”

Great. “Hey, El. What’s up?” Julie tries to feign excitement. Terrified at the brief flutter of her heart that spawned by the sound of El’s voice.

“I realized I never got around to asking you this at lunch, but are you free next Friday?”

“Uh, I think so. I’ll have to double check.” No, she won’t. She doesn’t have anything going on, just wants to seem like she does.

“Would you like to come over for a sleepover? I know we just kind of had one, but I want a better one. And then Max can be there too.”

Julie doesn’t want a sleepover. Well, she does, but not one with Max. Because it would be Max and El on the bed. Because why would they make the girl in the wheelchair with chronic pain sleep on the air mattress on the floor. That’s rude and stupid. And it’s El’s room, so she would also be in the bed.

Meaning that Julie would be alone on the floor while her two friends share a bed. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem. Normally she wouldn’t care. But now she does. Because she knows what it’s like to sleep in the same bed as El and the midnight talks that are kind of really serious but also really nice. The nervousness that creeps under her skin every time El’s eyes meet hers. The pounding of her heart as she tries to get a singular word out.

But she can’t say no. Can’t see the disappointment in El’s face or hear it in her voice. Would rather be there, suffering in silence, than miss out on time with her friends. Which she would enjoy for a majority of it, and could kind of need right now.

“Sure,” Julie says. “If I’m free and everything.”

She wishes she sounded more excited, but she can’t.

“Yay. Let me know as soon as possible if you are free. I will see you at school tomorrow.”

Julie’s slight smile drops. “Yeah, tomorrow. Talk to you later.”

The phone clicks onto the receiver as tears start to spring to Julie’s eyes. For reasons she doesn’t really know why but feels deep inside her chest. A pain she’s never felt. Crushing. Terrifying. A tear rolls down her cheek as she runs to her room, wiping it away quickly so Steve doesn’t see.

But he sees.

“Hey, are you ok?” he asks as Julie crosses into her bedroom.

“Just leave me alone,” she yells with a sob, slamming her door. Right in his worried face.

She can’t even make it to her bed before she falls. Slamming her back into the door and pulling her knees close to her chest. Wet patches forming on her knees. Breathing in stutter breaths just to let them out as broken sobs. Trying to pull herself together. Trying to keep it quiet. Knowing Steve is right behind the door, wondering what he can do.

What Julie’s feeling can’t be fixed. No matter what she tries. No matter how hard she tries. She can’t be normal anymore.

A slip of paper gets slid under the door next to her. After the sobs start to slow and Julie can see things again. She picks it up, unfolding it.

When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.

All it does is start Julie’s sobs again. How could she have been so lucky to have someone so understanding waiting for her outside the door? When her life went to shit. When things just keep going to shit. He’s still there. Even when she slams doors in his face and uprooted his entire life.

Without even blinking, he’s still there.

“Steve,” she says to her empty room when the tears slow. Hoping he can hear.

“Yeah,” the answer comes from the other side of the door.

Julie lets out a wet laugh. “When you said you were waiting, I didn’t think it’d be right outside the door.”

“Well, technically, it’s right next to your door. Only since I slid the note, though. I gave you space for a bit.”

Her knees fall to the ground, hands falling in her lap. Resuming the picking of her unbandaged thumb. “I appreciate that.”

A beat of silence. “You’re talking to me again. Does that mean you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not sure how to talk about it.”

“That’s ok. Do you want to wait to talk about it, see if you can find the words later?”

Her head gently bangs against the door. Mind racing to find the words. To say something so he can find the solution for her and the pain can go away. But it all leads to a question so unfathomable that she can’t even bear to ask it. Gets mad at herself for even thinking about it.

She does though. Over and over again. Her mind finding answers she doesn’t like. Doesn’t want to believe were a possibility. Truth is, she will never have an answer to that question. No matter how hard she searches for one. The one person who can give it isn’t here anymore. Leaving an uncertainty that would weigh over her head forever.

“I’m sorry,” Julie says instead. Apologizing for the things she can instead of searching for what she can’t. “For slamming the door in your face.”

“You can slam the door in my face as many times as you need to. Just as long as you agree to talk to me about it, when you’re ready to. I may not always follow my own rules, but it’s better to talk about things before they start to build up.”

Julie wipes away the stray tear rolling down her cheek. Moving to pick at the strands of her jeans so she doesn’t need another band aid. “I think this has been building up for a while now. I just didn’t know it was there.”

There’s silence across the door for a minute or two.

“You know what I kind of really want right now, chocolate chip cookies,” Steve says suddenly.

It’s so random that is makes Julie laugh. “What?”

“Yeah, you know, freshly made, warm chocolate chip cookies. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Julie smiles. “That actually does sound kind of nice.”

“Great. I’m going to go make some, you can join me if you want.”

She does kind of want to. After taking a deep breath, Julie picks herself off the floor. Wincing at the soreness of her legs from sitting on rough carpet for so long. Opens the door and heads to the kitchen. Steve is pulling out one of the many cookbooks he stole from his parents and turning to a recipe. Starting to grab the different ingredients.

He smiles when Julie searches their cabinets, searching for the mixing bowl they also stole from his parents. Probably thinking he’s had some sort of victory over this. Maybe he has. She’s out of the room, and probably about to eat something. It’s a small victory for the both of them.

The oven takes an eternity to preheat. Leaving the rolled-out cookies on the stovetop. Some of them mysteriously gone missing. Well, not mysteriously, she had a few more than she should. But so did Steve, so it was fine.

When the cookies are finally baked, Steve waits a few minutes before placing some on a plate and bringing them over to the blanket pile that is still acting as a couch. But instead, some of the chairs hold up the blankets, making a small fort.

It reminds her of the ones her mom and her made during thunderstorms. When the trailer would shake with each boom, but not the fort. With soft pillows and flashlight shadow puppet stories. Falling asleep when the thunder was far enough away that it became calming. Paired with the patter of rain on the roof. They were always safe in the fort.

Julie was safe in the fort.

She breaks the cookie in her hand, the warm chocolate smearing across her fingertips. Melting in her mouth as soon as they hit. Giving her the energy to say what she needs to say. What she wants to say.

“You know it was El that called, right.” Julie breaks the cookie again. “Well, of course you know. You’re the one who gave me the phone.”

Steve sits straighter, giving Julie his full attention. “Yeah, I know.”

“She was asking if I was free next Friday, for a sleepover.” Her heart starts racing as the words still stay unsaid. Trapped in her throat, even though she knows he wouldn’t care about them.

“That sounds fun. Did you want to go?”

Julie continues to stare at her hands, unable to look up. “Yeah, I do. It’s just. It’s harder now. Because I think, no, I know that I.” She takes a deep breath. She can do this. “I have a crush. On El.”

Steve takes a second to respond. Keeping the moment tense. Julie can only hear the sound of her own heart beating.

“That would make it harder,” he finally says.

“Yeah,” Julie chokes as the tears start to form again. “Yeah, it really does.”

Steve moves the plate of cookies out from in between them before scooting closer. Reaching out to place a hand on Julie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not,” Julie stops him before he can try to comfort her. “I hate that I’m like this. It’s terrifying. I don’t want like this to be but I am. And I’m going to screw everything up.”

She pulls her legs up to her chest again, the tears retracing their tracks down her cheeks. Even when she thought the wells had dried, it keeps flowing.

“I know exactly how you feel,” Steve exhales. “I felt the same way when I figured out I liked guys. So much so, that I pushed it down and forgot it for years. Kept pretending that this part of me wasn’t a part of me. Hated myself for it. Pushed that hatred outward toward people who didn’t deserve it. Just because I was so angry with myself that I couldn’t be normal.”

Julie clenches her eyes shut, trying to force the tears to stop flowing. Wanting this hurt to stop.

“There were a lot of factors that made me want to hide who I was, I think. My parents, mostly. My reputation. I was the kid that threw parties and had all the nicknames. Hawkins High School’s poster boy. A Harrington. Any wrong move and I was done for. I didn’t need that wrong move to be dangerous.”

She pulls herself more inward. Wondering if she becomes small enough, the problems will just go away. No longer hunting the prey hiding in the bushes.

“It took a lot for me to realize that I wasn’t-. That I wasn’t broken.” Steve takes a deep breath, clears his throat. “That this part of me was normal. Is normal. Just doesn’t always feel like it in a small town. It took meeting other people like me to realize that this was something I could be and still be happy. And believe me, there’s so much happiness waiting for you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Julie mutters into her knees. “It feels like everything keeps breaking apart over and over again.”

“Yeah, yeah it does.”

Julie lifts her head up, finally turning to look at Steve. “I just don’t want to mess up one of the first friendships I’ve had in years because I can’t stop acting weird around her. I can hate myself all I want, I can’t make her hate me too.”

Steve takes a deep breath, turning himself so he’s facing Julie completely. “And you won’t. El is one of the most loving and forgiving people I have ever met. Well, when she cares about someone. She can be pretty brutal to the people who she doesn’t like, but that’s not the point. El cares about you, she won’t judge you for this.”

“I can get not judging me for the liking girls bit. But liking her?” Julie doesn’t know how that could ever work out in her favor.

“Ok, so this next part doesn’t directly apply to your problem. And I’m not sure if any of this is even helping, but it just feels like it needs to be said and I know he won’t care if I share this for him.” He takes another breath. “But Eddie and I were kind of going through this same problem with each other. Only difference is I knew he was gay, and he didn’t know I was.”

“And the only difference between that situation and this one is that yours was a success story,” Julie says before he can continue. Shocking him. “You two aren’t as good as hiding it as you think you are. I picked it up a while ago.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, kinda figured. I’m more just trying to say that this thing you’re going through isn’t unique. Hell, half of the people in our group have had that feeling some way or another. And we’re still friends. You’re going to be just fine, trust me.”

Just fine doesn’t exactly sound like anything she wants to be. She’s been just fine for months. It’s kind of shitty. Not feeling like anything important, knowing she should be feeling more but can’t. Moving without really moving through life. Just going from one day to the next, them all blending together. Right up until fine becomes a lie again.

Until something unearths itself in the mind and can no longer be ignored. Brings all of its own problems and piles on top of all the others. Dragging up old baggage with it, only adding to the problem.

Leaving Julie with one more question she’s too afraid to ask.

So much in her life has changed. So much is different now. She’s a new person, one her mom wouldn’t recognize. Overwhelmed by grief. Brought into this large group of people, a giant family. Surrounded by people who are like her. Who show her that this is a life she could have. If she just put enough trust in herself.

If she put enough trust in her mom. And stopped wondering if she would still love Julie the same knowing that she will never marry a man. An answer Julie will never actually get.

Steve reaches out and pulls Julie into a hug. Comforts her the way a brother can, but it doesn’t bring the same comfort that Julie craves.

It’s things like this that makes Julie’s heart ache the most. How she will go through these big life events and never hear the same words of comfort again. Never have her mother’s weight sit on the foot of her bed, telling her it will all be ok. That no matter what, she will always love Julie. Never will stop as long as she lives. And even then, the love will transcend death and continue for infinity.

Nothing can stop infinity. Julie hopes that means nothing will stop her mother’s love either. Even this.

“Sorry for taking your coming out moment away from you,” Julie says after she calmed down. “I know you were waiting to tell me about it.”

Steve shrugs it off. “That’s ok. I was really dragging my feet with telling you, I’ve been ready for a while now, just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“For what it’s worth, it kind of helped. Made me feel a little better knowing that I’m not alone in this.”

“You’re not alone in anything, Julie. No matter what, there will be people behind you. Whether that’s me, your friends, anyone else lucky enough to meet you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks, though.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

. . .

The notice from the courthouse comes a week later. Alerting Steve that it’s time to approve the court date. One’s been selected for him, but can be pushed back if he needs it to. But it’s there. It’s real. This is actually happening.

He goes over the evidence again, confirms with Hopper that he can actually witness. Get the files all ready on his end. Then contacts his old nanny and gets talked into coming over for brunch. To catch up and see how he’s doing. Make sure she is what he needs for this case. Which she is. She was the longest one he ever had and was extremely meticulous. Most likely still has her pay stubs after all these years.

The last person he has to call is Nancy. Who doesn’t even know that he’s moved yet. Or that his parents are home.

It’s been a while since he’s called her, obviously, and he’s been avoiding it. Not wanting an earful of her again. But he needs to know when she’s back and if she’ll testify for him. She he dials her number.

“Nancy speaking.”

“Hey, Nance, it’s Steve. I have some things to catch you up on.”

She sighs. “Oh, I know. Robin refused to tell me anything about whatever’s going on. I think it was to force you to call me.”

“Yeah probably.”

After a long conversation and a lecture from Nancy on the importance of phone calls, she agrees to testify on his behalf. As both a character witness and also to back up some of the evidence he has.

Everything’s starting to get put together. Now all there is to do is wait.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis,

@ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi,

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet,

@steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy,

@connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso,

@crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @melonmochi

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #julie lawson #nancy wheeler #el hopper #steddie #long lost/secret sibling #sibling au #i don't know which way's home fic #coming out #internalized homophobia

[sergeantgoggles]

Would you be willing to do a 💙 drunken kiss / tipsy for Cody/Tech????

Dearest Anon, do I know you? Because drunk kisses in bars/night clubs are my favorite trope.

.

Not often does the opportunity come up to go drinking on Coruscant with Commander Cody, so when the boys of Clone Force 99 found themselves in that exact position, they certainly weren’t going to turn it down. Honestly, it was only happenstance that brought them there. They had been commissioned by Commander Fox to run a covert operation under the radar. Now that it was completed, and they weren’t due back on Kamino for another two rotations, they decided to celebrate another successful mission. Mission number 79 to be exact. Ironic, since that was the name of the clone bar that they’d ended up at.

Of course, the clones there weren’t entirely receptive of them. They were “The Bad Batch” after all, defective, but effective, as Wrecker liked to say. As it were, Tech rather liked Commander Cody’s definition, “defective clones with desirable mutations.” It made him feel like, in some strange capacity, that he was desired by the Marshal Commander.

It was no secret among his squad that he’d developed something of a crush on Cody over the years. According to him, however, it was only logical that he admired him as a strong, forthright soldier with good morals and strategy. He’d never treated them any differently, and Tech could appreciate a man that didn’t mind getting a little dirty. In fact, he’d heard Cody complain once that as the Marshal Commander, he didn’t get to see a a lot of action on the battlefield, and he was always itching for some excitement. It was information that Tech stored away for no obvious reason.

When Cody caught sight of them from his seat at the bar, he kindly waved them over and immediately ordered them a round of shots. Wrecker wasn’t for drinking, always complaining that it made his head hurt (and despite Tech telling him repeatedly that he would feel better if he drank water in between shots, Wrecker continued to drink like a man dying of thirst, and then wondered why he needed two hypos and a medpatch the next morning). Hunter and Crosshair were glad to take it easy and fell into lively conversation with the Commander, well, as lively of a conversationalist as Crosshair was, at any rate. Cody was one of the only Regs that he tolerated, maybe even liked.

Tech, on the other hand, though he accepted the drink, was happy to simply listen to the three of them go back and forth, accepting drinks as he was given them. Before long, he was pleasantly fuzzy, and he couldn’t help the smile that kept creeping onto his face every time Cody spoke. Cody’s voice was like velvet, soft and elegant, belonging to only the most royal of beings. He didn’t bother to correct the strange comparison, blaming it on the slight inebriation. Besides, it was true. Cody was handsome and wise. He should have been a prince instead of a soldier of the Republic. After all, Cody was the closest to being a complete carbon copy of Jango Fett with a 92 percent compatibility. That alone had earned him the title of Marshal Commander of the Third Systems Army, never mind how battle savvy, intelligent, and compassionate he was.

Tech had been known to zone out here and there when working on a project that required a lot of thought and attention to detail, but it was rare for him to get lost in his own head while they were out. So, when Crosshair had poked his goggles and Hunter started snickering behind a gloved hand at his expense, he flushed deeply and frowned. Cody was also chuckling, though he couldn’t discern whether that was necessarily a good thing or not. One thing was for certain, the heat of embarrassment crawled up his neck and made his stomach flutter. He would later blame it on the number of shots he’d had, six, if his count was still accurate.

“What’s wrong?” Crosshair teased. “Tooka caught your tongue?”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Tech defended, but he giggled immediately after, not helping his case.

Crosshair smirked, then leaned into Tech’s space to whisper in his ear. “You’ve been gawking at Cody all night. Do something about it.”

Tech tried to look indignant, but the edges of his vision were fuzzy, and the alcohol was sitting heavy on his tongue as he glared. “Nah uh.”

Hunter laughed harder, leaning against Cody’s shoulder, who was also trying to hide an amused smile. “Sounds like you have your work cut out for you, Commander.”

Cody chuckled with a shrug. His eyes raked over Tech’s body, looking at him up and down, and Tech felt himself shiver despite the heat. “Crosshair…what did I miss?”

His brother took some pity on him and patted his shoulder apologetically. “You really don’t realize what you’re doing half of the time, do you?”

Tech’s eyes widened. “What—”

“You talk to yourself,” Crosshair said as though that wasn’t a common occurrence, “…and you just told Commander Cody you think he’s a perfect specimen.”

Tech needed to leave. Right now. He tried to stand, and he managed, but his weight distribution was entirely off, and his equilibrium sent him tumbling off the stool and right into Commander Cody’s chest. Strong arms caught him easily, and as he tried to right himself, caught a whiff of the cologne Cody was wearing tonight. It was musky, a little floral, and maybe something akin to what a day filled with Sunshine was smelled like. He giggled again, his wit slowly leaving him as the alcohol caught up with him, and he thought that distantly he heard Hunter and Crosshair sneaking off, but he couldn’t hear or feel anything beside the light of Cody’s smile being cast upon him.

“Easy, trooper,” Cody said with an authority that went right through Tech.

“S-Sorry,” Tech apologized, but the giggles just didn’t seem to stop. Being this close to Cody should have had him panicking, but the alcohol was doing wonders for his nerves, or rather, they were absolutely giving him a false sense of hope that anything would come of his little crush. He’d expected Cody to right him and let him go, but his hands were firmly on his hips, keeping him close, nearly flush to the line of his body, and Tech bit his lip coyly.

“Something on your mind?” Cody purred, or, Tech thought he purred. It sounded like a purr.

“I think…I would like to kiss you,” Tech admitted forwardly, emboldened by booze.

Cody laughed outright that time, but there was no hint of resentment or disgust. Rather, Cody took Tech’s chin in his fingers and drew him closer. “So, if I kissed you…like this…”

Their lips brushed, soft, tender, not at all what Tech expected from a drunken kiss. It was over before Tech could blink. That should have been enough. Commander Cody kissed him, publicly, in front of hundreds of other clones. He should take this one victory and say that it was sufficient and run as far away as possible to process what the hell had just happened.

“I am drunk, not a blushing virgin,” Tech stated boldly. “Kiss me like you mean it, Commander.”

Above all else, Tech hoped that he wouldn’t wake up in the morning with a court marshal with his name on it for sexually harassing a Commander. He tried to gauge Cody’s reaction as his eyes darkened, and his smile turned into something more predatory.

“Like this?”

Cody didn’t wait for Tech to be ready. He slotted their lips together, guiding him into open mouthed kisses, clacking teeth, dragging his tongue along Tech’s, and tasting him. Tech melted in his arms, slowly wrapping his arms around his neck, and drawing him deeper. A few others whispered in shock, but they certainly drew attention when people started whistling and telling them to get a room. Perhaps, in the morning, Tech would care about such a lewd and public display, but right now, pleasantly tipsy, and more intoxicated from Cody’s lips than the alcohol at this point, he couldn’t care less what a few Regs thought of him.

When Cody finally let him breathe, he kept Tech close, keeping him steady and grounded despite the rush pulsing through his veins. Cody was incredible, and if possible, even more beautiful with kiss-flushed cheeks and panting for breath.

“I…would say that was more than sufficient,” Tech answered quietly.

His reply earned him another heart-warming smile, and Cody kissed his cheek. “Let’s take this somewhere a little more private. No pressure, whatever happens, happens…but I think we both know where we want this to go.”

Tech grinned and bit his lip coyly. “I will follow your lead, Commander.”

#cloneshipping #clone shipping #clone/clone #the bad batch #the clone wars #codytech #tbb tech #commander cody #heart prompts clone edition

[screampied]

can you please please write manhandling & squirting w gojo :(

❤︎ ໋𓈒 telling your best friend satoru that you can’t make yourself squirt

warnings. fem! reader, manhandling, praise, fingering, talking you through it, rev cowgirl, dirty talk, squírting, mdni.

legs sprawled, toes all curled up, you were desperately trying to make yourself squirt. it’s never happened to you and you wanted to experience what it was like—you read through various erotic stories of how it feels way different than just your everyday ordinary orgasm. with your teeth softly digging against your bottom lip, your fingers gently rummage throughout and against your clit. after a while though, you end up sighing—on the verge of giving up before as if on literal cue, your best friend gojo opens the door.

“hey, is it any more . . oh! uh,” he’d murmur, walking in on you with your legs sprawled all open. gojo suppresses a giggle that was about to escape from his lips before he utters. “. . . should i come back another time? you seem busy.”

there was smugness dripping underneath his tone and you were far too aroused to feel embarrassed. “no,” you puff. “i need help, satoru.”

“yeahh you seem like it,” he snickers. running a hand through his hair, he hums to himself before his eyes avert towards your lazily slid to the side panties. “is that what you call fingering yourself?”

“. . . shut up,” you chastise, and his sly smirk only widens. gojo stares at you for a long while before inching closer towards you—plopping down beside you. the mattress jolts a bit from his weight and he cocks his head to the left in pure amusement. “i need help. i can’t … i can’t squirt.”

gojo sneers. “oh, you sure can. you just don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, angel, heh.”

he had such a smart mouth, the dramatically frustrated sigh that deserts past your lips was too adorable—in his eyes at least.

the way you were so dedicated to making yourself have a proper finish was so cute . . but you couldn’t, you needed his help—you wanted his help.

“hm but okay,” he shrugs with a cheeky grin, getting right beside you. gojo lightly grabs your wrist, peering at how you’d already soak two of your digits with sloppy amounts of slick before he titters. “aw, poor thing. these useless fingers just can’t do shit, huh?”

“just fucking help me.” you grouse at him, a pouty scowl ceasing against your lips firmly.

“fine, girl fine,” he rolls his eyes. “i’ll take it from here.”

and he does because once he starts to ‘help’ you, it’s in a way that has you merely speechless.

with your neck slightly whirling towards the left, you’re mindlessly bouncing up at down on his thick cock. you’re faced the opposite way, your back leans up against his chest. gojo holds you up with no problem, a brief squeeze on your thighs and you start to whimper at how close his fat tip thwacks against a particularly sensitive spot.

“f— fuckk, ‘toru,” you’d whimper out, feeling him reach the deep components inside of you.

so deliciously good, you felt a few droplets of your own saliva trickle past your lips as you slump back against him. “so deep, stuffin’ me f— full, ‘toru.”

“. . . hah,” he pants heavily, tensed abs flexing each time he drags you up and down. he’s treating you like a rag doll. you didn’t expect him to do all this, having you all up and down. although, who were you to complain—he was reaching every spot without an ounce of trouble. “guess i can reach better than those fingers ever could, hm angel?”

“y—yes, yesss,” you stammer, your voice all shaky, trembling on each syllable that you spat out. “satoru, harder. fuck me, f—fuckkk me.”

you repeat the same words out your spit-glossed lips. with such a firm grip, he’s making your hips slam up and down—such a rigorous rhythm…

you try to grind a bit against him but you only end up slouching against his bare chest. it was simply no secret, gojo was known to be lengthy, longer than thick when it came to his cock. every orifice, he makes sure to locate every spot inside of your gummy walls with the crown of his shaft.

gush after gush, you’re spasming on him and you make a cute attempt at grabbing his wrist, clammy hands piercing into his skin. “s-so good, more ‘toru. right there, pleaseee . . !”

“i got ya.” he huffs, warm breaths waft right up against your earlobe. he’s holding you in place, each time he bounces you up again and again.

your eyes do that cute thing where it rolls all the way back into your cranium. it’s cute, lewd . . but cute.

with your pretty pupils dilated, all you see is nothing but pure splotches of white. his cock’s buried so deep that you’re stuck in a trance, a trance you never wanted to escape from.

“. . . awww,” he purrs against your ear, a big hand softly cupping your chin. he feels some of your translucent spit pour down the sides of your lips before smearing it over your mouth with his thumb. “such a messy baby. you feel it comin’ don’t you?” he teases, nipping a kiss near your neck once you squeeze his wrist a tad bit tighter. “oh. you want me to hold your hand, is that it?”

“sato—ru,” you whine, a cute trembly voice making a special appearance.

but oh, the stretch…

it was so good simply divine.

each second is spent with gojo’s dick delving into your clenched walls. a syrupy ear ringing whimper snatches right out of your throat before you speak once more, “satoru, ‘toru, s—satoru.”

“hey, that’s me,” he grunts with a coy grin, feeling how well you clamp down on him—of course, he’d make a joke out of nearly anything. you’re like a bobbling doll, feeling your cunt squeeze him tight before within seconds, your thighs began to quaver.

with your legs quavering, it was as if a volcano was preparing to erupt. violently, your legs start to tense and you’re steadily pulsing and pulsing. something’s coming and it’s coming fast…

it had to be exactly what you were thinking. it felt a bit different though. pressure presses down against you and you feel gojo’s fingers intertwine with yours. “heh, you’re kinda dramatic, huh?” he teases—and right before he can give you another snarky reply, he brings your hips to an abrupt halt. teeth chomping down together, your jaw insignificantly tightens and you feel a certain sharp twinge for at least three and a half seconds.

“i- i’m about to s-squirt, ‘toru,” you warn him, and he nips another chaste kiss near the crook of your neck.

“nuh uh. you’re going to squirt, trust me. give it to me, yeah. grind against me ‘n just listen to my voice, mhm.”

his voice.. just the way he spoke to you in such a playfully deep tone was enough to make you finish on the spot.

gojo holds you still. he’s still buried deep inside. stuffing you fill of hefty inches before he brings a hand towards your swollen puffy entrance. “damn, she really is so fuckin’ sloppy,” he grunts, starting to maneuver slow circles against your pussy. he makes haste with it though, and your lips part before moaning once you even hear the evidence yourself.

squelch, squelch, squelch..

it’s loud, it rings throughout your ears—each time, it’s louder than the next. he’s so sloppy with it too, no shame whatsoever. gojo then drags a soft thumb down your slit that was just sopping. everything felt so fervent - the way he’d strum his fingers against your cunt, only to then give it a concise spank.

“s-satoru, fuckkk.” you’d gasp, leaning way back with your legs still sprawled, “i—”

“now—don’t be rude, angel. she’s tryna speak to me, let her do her thing, baby,” and he clearly referring to your dripping wet pussy. he continues, rubbing against your clit at a much more rapid speed now. your legs could barely hold themselves open. mouth twitching, you feel a rupture on the very brink of rippling out of you before his spanks against your pussy come again, and again, and again…

“sloppy girl with a sloppy … fuckin’ … cunt.”

his words get more raspy and degrading and he’s way too into it to pause. with a thumb slowly tickling against your spasming nub, he watches at you moan a shrieking whine before not even seconds later, it happens. you gush out, and it’s a lot to where you even dampen gojo’s lap. thankfully he was prepared, keeping a towel underneath you just in case you were a bit too much of a soaked.

and soaked you were, it felt so good that you didn’t even know what to say… more like, you didn’t know what to think.

your mind was blank, equivalent to an empty canvas. he’s so mean, whispering such filthy murmurs into your ear before he lets you ride out your orgasm.

wet, you felt that entire word right between your legs. gojo’s still playing with you, cock stuffing your pussy full to the very brim before he feels you bare around him.

“. . seeeee,” he pants, humming in a soft tune.

he squeezes your folds tighter just to hear that honeyed mewl rip from your sweet lips. he gradually pulls out and now you’re just laying back against his chest with the dumbest expression. “told ya you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing,” he chaffs before making you turn your neck, dragging you into a deep kiss.

it catches you by surprise, you connect your lips against his and that’s when he makes you fall back. you watch with glossy eyes before he then grabs ahold of chin with one hand, brushing it tenderly against your skin. “say ah, open that pretty mouth for me ‘n taste what a messy girl you are.”

you felt your heartbeat go straight between your legs. once you loll out your tongue for him, staring right into his bright cerulean irises, he stuffs your mouth with two fingers. the same fingers that were covered in nothing but your sweet wet arousal. “yeah, run that tongue around my fingers ‘n taste it all, baby.”

you moan, swirling your tongue alongside his digits before you briefly end up gagging at the tips of his fingers massaging against the very back part of your throat.

“good girl,” he whispers—pulling his fingers out real slowly, he does this purposeful. a sheeny trail of your glistening saliva follows out from your lips before he gives you another long kiss before departing. “now, let’s do it again. but this time,” he utters, making you lie back against your back. “i’ll make you squirt just from my tongue, angel. let’s make that cute squirt velocity a little stronger, hm?”

#★vegasbaby. #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines

[bluejutdae]

best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Chan x you

this will become a series, I’ll make a scenario like this for all the members. Minho | Changbin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: romance, friends to lovers

warnings: asshole guy who thinks sex is required in exchange of a dinner

“I’m sorry but I really have to go, it’s a family emergency. But I’ll call you.” This guy is really pissing you off, but he’s tall and pretty muscular and the vibes you got from him during the (luckily short) date make you uncomfortable.

“Are you really using this lazy excuse? I invited you to dinner, I’m gonna pay, so the least you could do is to put it out there!” You blink in disbelief, he really is a creepy guy. Chan is on his way though, so the thought comforts you a little. You reach into your bag and grab a few bills and, as you place them on the table, you give the guy a sarcastic smile. “I can pay for my own dinner.”

Grabbing your jacket you turn your back to him, ready to leave, but the asshole grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him. You don’t have the time to do anything because a hand is suddenly around the guy’s wrist like a vice.

“Let her go immediately or I’m going to break your arm.” You’ve never heard Chan talking with such ice in his voice and a shiver runs along your spine.

“Fuck you both. I should have known you were a frigid bitch!” the guy lets you go and raises his free hand in surrender. Before letting him go, Chan looks at you for the first time since his arrival. “Are you okay?” You nod, confused. You thought your crush for Chan was long gone, but if the butterflies in your stomach are any indication, your crush is alive and burning.

Not even 5 minutes later, in a cab with Chan sitting next to you, you catch the end of your best friend’s sentence: “…can’t believe that asshole!”

“You know what’s funny? He called me a ‘frigid bitch’. Isn’t that a bizarre insult? What does it even mean?” Now that you’re with Chan, you’re calm and not scared anymore.

You hear him laughing, shaking his head. “Like anything that came out of his mouth made any sense… but really, are you okay?” You nod again. You’re not scared, you’re not uncomfortable, but something in your chest trembles at the idea of parting with Chan. “Can you stay over tonight?”, you ask quietly.

When you close the door, the atmosphere is uncommonly quiet and tense. Did you make Chan uncomfortable? Did he have other plans? Is he annoyed with you for always needing him? As all those thoughts run across your head, he slips out of his shoes and goes straight to the kitchen, feeling at home in your small apartment. “Can I steal some ramen? I didn’t have the time to eat a proper dinner.” In lieu of an affirmative answer, you wash your hands and start preparing a quick dinner for Chan. “I’m sorry I hijacked your night, Channie.”

“What are you talking about? My plans involved ramen at the dorms and hearing Hyunjin and Jisung screaming against the tv. They started a new drama”, he explains watching you moving around the kitchen. He loves to look at you while you’re busy, while you’re too occupied with something else to notice him studying you, watching you with love in his eyes. Tonight was once again proof you only saw him as a friend and nothing more: otherwise you wouldn’t have gone on a date, right?

Wrong.

You spent ages crushing over him, but once you were sure he felt nothing for you, you tried (in vain, apparently) to get over him.

You place a steaming bowl of food in front of him and sit at the table, looking at him.

“No more lame dates. No, you know what? No more dates.”

“You let a couple of bad guys ruin your search for true love?”

Well, he’s not gonna complain, but he also doesn’t want a bad experience to scar your hopes for romance. “Nah, they’re not worth it. My perfect match is not interested in me anyway.”

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said something like that, now he’s gonna ask questions.

“Perfect march, uh?”

You wave your hand, almost slapping away the topic. “Eat your food, Chan.”

“I thought you told me everything,” he pouts and you’re a weak weak person, how can you be tough in front of his pout?

“There is someone I like, I liked him for a while but it’s unreciprocated, so there’s no point in talking about him.”

“Then he’s dumb. Tell me his name?”

“You kinda know him, so I’d rather not… you know, don’t wanna make it weird.” Chan looks at you with a weird something in his eyes you can’t really understand, but for the sake of your secret you let it slide.

“Movie?”

The movie has been on for at least an hour but neither of you is really watching it. You’re cuddled on the couch, Chan’s head on your lap and your fingers slowly playing with his hair. It’s one of his favorite cuddling positions, and you love it cause you have the chance to watch him without being noticed.

“I wish you’d tell me who he is.”

You freeze in surprise, fingers stilling on his head.

“Chan…”

“No wait, listen for a second.” He sits now, and bites his lip. “We’ve always told pretty much everything, but there are things I haven’t told you either. So I will tell you something secret about me if you tell me who he is.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because!”

He’s quick to get on his feet, walking on the small carpet in front of the tv. “Because I wanna know who’s this dumb guy who is not in love with you. What’s not to love? He’s lucky enough you are interested in him, something I’d give an arm for, and he’s not on his knees worshiping you?” He then freezes, like something hit him and trains his eyes on the floor. “Forget what I said”.

What did he say? Are you drunk and incapable of understanding or Chan just said he’d give an arm to have you interested in him? Something swells into your chest and you decide to be bold for once.

“Do you like me, Chan?”

He stills his pacing, gaze still trained to the floor, and nods carefully.

“It’s you.”

“Mh?”

“The guy I like, it’s you.”

He’s gonna have a sore neck tomorrow, considering the speed in which he raises his head.

“Me?” You nod, with a hopeful smile on your lips.

“I was convinced you felt nothing for me…”

You don’t know which one of you moved first, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you’re kissing, now. You have his wet, soft and pillowy lips on yours, his tongue asking to be let in your mouth, your hands holding the other tight, almost to make sure this is real and you’re not going to vanish any seconds now.

“We’re such a clichè” he says on your lips, laughing cutely.

“Maybe. But I like it anyway.”

If being a clichè is what brought you two finally together, then so be it.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #skz Smau #skz fake texts #stray kids smau #stray kids fake texts #chan scenarios #chan fanfic #Thiana writes Chan

[yandere-daydreams]

file #5: the lactation fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!sukuna x reader (jjk).

length: 1.8k.

warnings: afab!reader, heian era sukuna, vaguely dubious consent, lactation (not the way you’d expect though), fem!dom, verbal degradation (m. receiving), breast milk, and mentions of death/cannibalism.

If you could say you’d learned anything about Sukuna, it would have to be that he was not the kind of man you could expect predictability from.

That was, if you could even call him a man at all. It would be more accurate to say that he was not the kind of monster you could expect predictability from, which made sense – monsters were rarely known for having a rational motivation for their senselessness. With Sukuna, though, it was less that you were forced to guess how violent he’d be and more whether he’d be violent with you at all. It was as common for him to demand that you spend the afternoon laying on a shady riverbank, feeding him honey and grapes, as it was for him to threaten to gut you like cattle should you make one more snide comment about the bloodstains his constantly wandering hands tend to leave on your clothes. His other servant, the inexpressive butcher who spoke to you rarely and reeked constantly of blood, claimed to be able to find a pattern to the chaos, but whatever knowledge they might’ve gleaned over their time with him, they’d never seen fit to share with you. You found your own ways of coping, though.

Like right now, for instance – as you hung limply over Sukuna’s shoulder, kept in place only by the hand pressing into the small of your back. Despite the way his arm bit into your stomach, a slight scowl that’d been playing on his lips when he snatched you away from what you’d been doing, you did your best to keep your mind empty, your thoughts limited to a blank ambiance. If there was as good of a chance that he was going to kill you and feast on your decaying flesh as there was that he simply needed someone to fix yet another tear in his favored yukata, you didn’t want to make it worse for yourself by panicking prematurely.

Still, you were vaguely aware of the passing scenery as he hauled you through grand, vacant halls and into the master’s chambers. Sukuna would find a place to dwell wherever he roamed, whether that meant sleeping in a damp cave or on a bed of woven cloud and quail feathers, but a part of you was undeniably (and guiltily) glad that he had a clear preference for the latter. Currently, you were biding your time until Sukuna’s next feeding spree in a palace that used to belong to a wealthy merchant; a merchant whose organs were, if memory served, currently being divided into portions and dried on a rack of—

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Sukuna dropped you onto a bed of down-stuffed pillows and silk sheets. Wordlessly, he fell beside you and, using his lower set of arms, hauled you onto his chest, forcing you to straddle his abdomen. With only a slight huff, a roll of your eyes, you settled into place – bracing your hands on his midriff. “My lord, I have other obligations to—”

“I am the only obligation you should be paying any mind to.” His tone was clipped, his voice gruff. Clearly, he was in one of his poorer moods, today. “Get on with it” he barked, making with a vague gesture to his upper chest. “I don’t have all day, brat.”

You spared a half-second to scan over him. He treated you like a tailor, among other things, but at the moment, his chest was bare, and this wasn’t exactly comparable to the countless times he’d dropped the tattered shreds of a kimono or yukata into your lap and told you to make something more or less wearable. “I… I’m afraid I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to be doing, sir.”

He rolled his eyes, and you bit back the urge to return his irritation. “Y’know, just…” Another gesture to his chest, this one shortly followed by a disappointed, breathy noise. “Empty them out. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, again.”

Empty them…?

Again, you glanced down, your attention landing on the swell of his chest. He was always sickeningly bulky, prone to wearing his strength on the layers of muscle blanketing his biceps and thighs, but his chest did seem more swollen that it normally was, now that you thought to look, the usually hardened flesh visibly more plush, more tender. You shifted your weight, your fingertips digging into the swell of his right pec, and you felt something warm and wet trickle over the back of your hand and onto the velveteen cushions below you.

Sukuna let out an airy groan, and your mind went entirely blank.

Reflexively, you tried to pull away, but Sukuna had always been faster than you. His hand was wrapped around your wrist before you could so much as break contact, keeping your palm pressed into his pec (breast?). “Don’t act like such a baby. It’s a task even an idiot could manage.” With his hand draped over your own, he ground the heel of your palm into the plush of his pec, and this time, you weren’t lucky enough to look away in time – your eyes falling to his chest as a thin stream of a surprisingly white, surprisingly thick fluid dribbled out of his nipple in short, stilted bursts. Milk, your mind filled in, against your will. Except, it couldn’t be. Sukuna wasn’t human. Sukuna wasn’t supposed to be able to do that.

More out of curiosity than anything, you pressed your palm down again with just a little more force, a little less trepidation. The jet was stronger, this time, and Sukuna’s eyes closed, his lips soon drawn into a thin line only occasionally parting to let out a deep breath or raspy groan. His hand dropped away entirely as you fell into a steady kneading pattern – both of his upper arms soon crossed above his head, as he often did when he was lounging in a particularly entrancing patch of sunlight, while their lower counterparts remained on your waist. “Use both hands,” he grunted, and not bothering to suppress your scowl, you did. Soon enough, milk (because, as unsettling as it was, you just didn’t know what else to call it) frothed steadily, painting both sides of his chest with unorganized streaks of splotchy white – delicate ribbons spread over a canvas of ink and scars.

Despite yourself, you found yourself focusing on that. The word, almost jarringly quaint, repeated in the back of your mind; milk, milk, milk. Almost in a trance, you found yourself bowing your head, lowering yourself until your chest was slotted against his. After making sure his eyes were still closed, his attention still on the steady movement of your hands, you ran the flat of your tongue over his left nipple and—

Oh.

It was sweet.

His hand was on the back of your head in an instant, but you were already latched on – your lips sealed around his nipple, sucking harshly. There wasn’t a point trying to be gentle with Sukuna, not when you’d seen him take spears to heart without so much as a wayward flinch, but any passing temptation to veer towards delicacy was quickly forgotten as thick fingers knotted themselves in your hair, a reverberating moan tearing past his lips as you lapped and suckled, letting whatever you couldn’t swallow down flood out of the corner of your mouth. He could’ve pried you away, if he’d wanted to, could’ve torn off your head with little more than a flick of his wrist, but all he offered was a weak – pathetic – tug, a few garbled curses spat under his breath. “Brat,” he hissed, as you drank greedily. “Just— Just do your damn job and—”

“You’re so fucking loud,” you muttered, pulling back just far enough to be audible. “For once in your life, would it kill you to be quiet?”

You couldn’t see him, but you’d seen him baring his teeth often enough to recognize his tone. “Know your place, huma—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Before you could think better of it, you braced yourself and bit down, burying your teeth into the tender meat of his chest. You tasted blood, heard Sukuna moan, and felt his body jolt underneath you, hips jutting against yours as something long and thick twitched against your ass. You pulled away as quickly as you could, already grinning. “Are you…?

“Be quiet.”

He was. You could feel his cock against your ass - already hard, already pulsing. Or, his cocks, rather, both standing stiff against his lower stomach despite the loose fabric of his robes. Carefully, you shifted back, straddling his thighs, as you slowly removed the thin sash sitting low on his waist, as you dragged the silken fabric aside in favor of wrapping your fist around the thicker of his paired cocks; your fingers barely grazing each other where they were supposed to overlap. “No wonder you’re always so temperamental,” you went on, speaking slowly, giving him every chance to cut you off, to throw you to the side, to tear you limb from limp. He only scowled, though, only pouted, clenching his eyes shut as thick beads of arousal blotted and dripped over the back of your hand. “To think the King of Curses would get this hard from some powerless human sucking on his leaking tits… You must be so pent up, you just don’t care who touches you, huh?”

His hold on your hips tightened, threatening to bruise. You barely noticed, already distracted by the slight tremble in his bottom lip, the pitchy whine that escaped his grit teeth as you shifted your weight onto your knees and aligned the blunt, flushed tip of his cock with your entrance. You took measured seconds to lower yourself onto him, ignoring the burning stretch in favor of focusing on the heat of it, the immediate and overwhelming fullness. You’d barely gotten the head of his cock inside of you when you stopped, going completely still. A second passed before Sukuna seemed to notice, another before one of his many eyes flickered open – immediately landing on you.

It was barely a whisper, a breath. He was mumbling, as much as you knew Sukuna would loathe you for accusing him of something so meek aloud. “Do your—” A bubbling groan, a hitched gasp as your pussy clenched around him. “Do your damn job, brat.”

Your attempts to bite back your wide, beaming smile were only half-successful. “It would be my pleasure, my lord.”

You rolled your hips as you lowered yourself back to his height, trapping his unsheathed cock between your body and his as your mouth found its way back to his nipple. It was barely another minute before he was swearing, groaning, bucking into you from below in short, stilted thrusts – like he was afraid of so much as coming close to slipping out. It was all you could do to stay concentrated on the task at-hand, to stop your mind from wandering from the taste on him on your tongue, the feeling of his cock throbbing inside your pussy. Still, you found the time to allow yourself a single, self-indulgent thought – one so ridiculous and so simpering that you couldn’t help but laugh against his skin.

Maybe, just maybe, there were sides of Sukuna that weren’t so difficult to predict, after all.  

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #yandere sukuna #sukuna x reader

[thatbadadvice]

Help! I'm a Perfect Genius, but This Potential Employer Asked Me a Boring Interview Question!

Ask A Manager, 13 Feb 2024:

I was rejected from a role for not answering an interview question. I had all the skills they asked for, and the recruiter and hiring manager loved me. I had a final round of interviews — a peer on the hiring team, a peer from another team that I would work closely with, the director of both teams (so my would-be grandboss, which I thought was weird), and then finally a technical test with the hiring manager I had already spoken to. (I don’t know if it matters but I’m male and everyone I interviewed with was female.) The interviews went great, except the grandboss. I asked why she was interviewing me since it was a technical position and she was clearly some kind of middle manager. She told me she had a technical background (although she had been in management 10 years so it’s not like her experience was even relevant), but that she was interviewing for things like communication, ability to prioritize, and soft skills. I still thought it was weird to interview with my boss’s boss. She asked pretty standard (and boring) questions, which I aced. But then she asked me to tell her about the biggest mistake I’ve made in my career and how I handled it. I told her I’m a professional and I don’t make mistakes, and she argued with me! She said everyone makes mistakes, but what matters is how you handle them and prevent the same mistake from happening in the future. I told her maybe she made mistakes as a developer but since I actually went to school for it, I didn’t have that problem. She seemed fine with it and we moved on with the interview. A couple days later, the recruiter emailed me to say they had decided to go with someone else. I asked for feedback on why I wasn’t chosen and she said there were other candidates who were stronger. I wrote back and asked if the grandboss had been the reason I didn’t get the job, and she just told me again that the hiring panel made the decision to hire someone else. I looked the grandboss up on LinkedIn after the rejection and she was a developer at two industry leaders and then an executive at a third. She was also connected to a number of well-known C-level people in our city and industry. I’m thinking of mailing her on LinkedIn to explain why her question was wrong and asking if she’ll consider me for future positions at her company but my wife says it’s a bad idea. What do you think about me mailing her to try to explain?

Sir,

You have been wronged in the most grievous of ways by a coven of retaliatory, self-aggrandizing women who have failed in the extreme to recognize your brilliance, your talent, and above all, your general superiority.

Of course you should mail this mediocre "grandboss" on LinkedIn to inform her of the deep offense she caused you by interviewing you in the first place, let alone doing so using a boring question — indeed, you have a moral and professional obligation to do so in order to preserve your honor and the honor of scores of men like you who have never done a single solitary thing wrong in their lives, ever.

But I beg you to consider doing more. A single, private message to one incompetent bitch may not convey to the necessary parties the depth and breadth of the situation. Many, many people have important lessons to learn from your experience, and I encourage you to share it widely. Consider making a public LinkedIn post, and ensure that it is shareable across platforms. Depending on your financial resources, a billboard with your name, professional headshot, and contact information could go a long way toward ensuring that everyone in your industry who needs to know just how you handled the way these women treated you, does know about it. I hope that in your continuing job search, you are able to connect with potential employers who have a much better grasp of all you bring to the table.

#advice #bad advice #ask a manager #workplace #workplace advice #linkedin #bosses #working #developers #coding #fedoras #men #misogyny #workplace misogyny #hiring #job searching #employment

[superblysubpar]

Sincerely, Yours:

bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu

the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music

6.6k words

warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)

A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛

He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 

“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 

In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 

“Want me to pause it?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”

“I’d love one, thanks!”

Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.

Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 

Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 

He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 

Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 

Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 

His best friend was really fucking pretty. 

He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 

Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.

“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.

Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 

He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”

They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 

Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 

“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”

He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.

You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.

Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”

He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 

“No.”

Did you just say that out loud?!

Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 

Looks like you did.

“Ste-”

“What? What do you mean no?”

Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 

As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”

Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.

“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”

Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”

Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 

A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”

The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.

“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”

It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 

“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”

Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 

“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”

He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”

“No, please, I didn’t mean-”

His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 

Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.

“Can you please-”

“I’ll grab my keys.”

He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 

The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 

You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 

The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 

When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 

He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 

Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 

Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 

Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”

“Just take me home, please?”

The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 

So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?

He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 

It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”

His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 

“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 

“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 

“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”

The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 

Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”

Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”

Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.

“And fries. Definitely.”

“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”

“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”

Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 

“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”

He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 

You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”

He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”

“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 

Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”

“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 

But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-

“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 

He definitely said it out loud that time. 

You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  

“Ste-”

“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”

“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 

“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 

Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 

“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 

“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”

“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”

You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”

Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-

“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”

He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 

“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”

Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”

He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 

But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 

“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 

And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.

“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”

To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 

The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 

Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 

But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 

“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

Tried being the definitive word. 

“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”

You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”

It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 

It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 

His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”

Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”

Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”

He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”

A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 

Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 

All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 

Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 

If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 

And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.

In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.

You didn’t mind. 

Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 

He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”

“No,” you lied. 

He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”

You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 

“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”

Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…

You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 

Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 

Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”

“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 

And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?

Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 

His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”

“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 

He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”

And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 

His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 

When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Brian,” said without hesitation. 

Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”

You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”

Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”

It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 

“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.

“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”

This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?

But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.

He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  

You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 

Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.

The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 

His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”

“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”

“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”

You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 

“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 

Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 

Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 

You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 

“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 

Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 

Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 

You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”

He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 

He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 

And that was before you whimpered, before you said:

“Steve, please.”

“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”

His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 

Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 

He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”

You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 

Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”

There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 

Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”

You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 

He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 

And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 

#superbly subpars writing #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic

[lqvesoph]

She’s WHOSE daughter?? || LN4

lando norris x webber!reader

summary: After finding out who your father is, Lando needs some time for himself to think about everything. Oscar is more than willing to help make things right between you.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5

masterlist | taglist

Part 4

dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?

You: What do you mean?

dad: Your Instagram

dad: And I saw you in the paddock together

dad: That hug looked a little too intimate for friends

You swallowed hard before turning your phone off, chosing to ignore the messages and focus on Lando who just walked back into the garage, the debrief was done.

"We gotta talk", he stated, pushing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

You nodded, wanting to follow him back up to his driver’s room when suddenly an all too familiar voice called your name.

"Y/n, don’t you think you should introduce us?", your father asked, sitting at one of the tables with Oscar’s parents. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at your father’s teasing. Lando and him knew each other, obviously they’ve seen each other quite a few times in the paddock, especially because he was Oscar’s manager.

"Y/n, sweetheart, how are you doing?", Oscar’s mum asked with a genuine smile, making a small smile appear on your face as well as you replied.

"I’m good, thank you."

Lando eyed you from the side as you stepped closer to your father.

"Dad, Lando. Lando, my dad", you dryly spoke. Lando’s eyes went from you to your dad, giving him a small smile and a nod before looking back at you. "If you excuse us but we have to go", you said, waving at Oscar’s parents and turning your back to the table.

You waited on the couch while Lando closed the door to his driver room.

"Why didn’t you tell me?", he immediately questioned, leaning against the locked door. "I never tell people about my father because it happened too often that they weren’t there for me but for him", you started, fiddling with your hands.

"Not me and I thought you would have figured that. I knew your father, I’ve met him a few times", Lando argued. "What was I supposed to say, Lando?", you raised your voice a little. "We met in Bahrain but didn’t have much contact after that until this week, I couldn’t just go like 'Oh and by the way Mark Webber is my dad'!"

"You could’ve told me", he muttered quietly. "You could’ve told me in Bahrain when I asked about how you know Daniel or at the beach when I asked about your dad’s work."

"It just never felt right", you tried to defend yourself. "Bahrain was just too early and at the beach I sort of panicked, I don’t know", you muttered, realizing you really didn’t know why you haven’t told him until now.

"I need some time", Lando said after a few moments. You nodded and watched as he unlocked the door, leaving the room and probably the track for the day.

*~**~*

"So, what made Lando storm out of here like that?", your dad asked when you gathered yourself and finally made your way downstairs.

"I don’t wanna walk about it", you grumbled, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Just then Oscar walked down the stairs, his eyes widened when he spotted you. "Princess, I’m sorry! I really am!", he immediately said, walking closer to you.

"I didn’t know that he didn’t know but I should have known and I’m sorry", your best friend apologized and wrapped you in a hug. "Don’t be, Oscar. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve told him. I don’t know why I didn’t", you muttered, your voice sounding muffled from being pressed into Oscar’s shoulder.

"Still. I feel bad", he huffed, pulling back from the hug to look at you. "Where is he?"

You shrugged and looked away from Oscar. "I don’t know, probably went back to the hotel", you replied. "Mark how long do you plan on staying because I could take Y/n back to her hotel", he then turned to your father.

"Oh, I was actually just waiting for her", your dad replied, standing up from the table. "You ready?"

You nodded and turned around to Oscar’s parents, saying goodbye and telling them to meet again tomorrow at the race.

Oscar gave you another tight hug before waving at your dad and letting the two of you go.

"You ready to go as well?", Lily asked, grabbing his hand. Oscar nodded. "Yeah but I need to make a quick stop somewhere before we go home."

*~**~*

Just thirty minutes later, Oscar knocked on the door of one of Hilton’s hotel rooms.

"What on earth are you doing here? I thought you sleep at home", Lando muttered when he opened the door and saw his teammate standing there.

"Let me in?", Oscar just asked, lifting one eyebrow. Lando nodded silently and took a step to the side to let Oscar enter the room.

"She’s really sorry", he spoke as soon as the door had closed. Lando shut his eyes and crossed his arms. "Please, Oscar-"

"She knows she screwed up and said herself she doesn’t actually know or have reasons why she didn’t tell you", Oscar ignored his teammates protest. "She’s never been good with trusting people, so many having screwed her over just to get a chance to meet her dad-" "But I know her dad-" "And that left scars", Oscar continued. "She went into panic mode when you asked about her dad. She never likes being associated with him. She loves him to death but hates it when someone brings him up when talking about her achievements, or in general, when talking about her. She doesn’t just want to be Mark Webber’s daughter but her own person and she really really likes you!"

Lando stayed silent for a moment.

"Talk to her, please?", Oscar then quietly asked, searching for anything in Lando’s eyes that would give him some sort of confirmation.

The British driver blinked a few times, uncrossed his arms and took a deep sigh. "I will, tomorrow", he muttered, bringing a smile to Oscar’s face.

taglist

Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text me if you want to be taken off x

@champagneproblems17 @meko-mt @scopeiguess @bwormie @d3kstar @c-losur3 @lupitakapro @endlesssummer10 @sheslikeacurse @im-a-ghost666 @m0cha-bunny @claudiajacobs @noncannonships @light-23 @impossibleapricotlampbat @somewherewedontknow @asfaraslifegets @spookystitchery @brune77e @alilstressyandlotdepressy @berrnuu @leclercdream @urfavsgf @neodeliightt @eiffel-hood @tbsloneely @maplesyrupsainz @amalies-stuff @bicchaan @planet-faerie @landorris @soleilgrec @nikfigueiredo @basicchelsea @sarahkaliii @charlesgirl16 @phantomxoxo @lilipiggytails @honethatty12 @bingussthirdtoe @chasing-liberosis @jerricrojane @everbizzare @wherethefuckisthething @sltwins @nixisracing @a-beaverhausen @annie115

#lando norris #mclaren #f1 #landoscar #dando #landan #daniel ricciardo #oscar piastri #mark webber #ln4 #quadrant #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve always been a pretty good liar. As an adult I’ve come to a moral place in which I don’t use that skill set unless it will explicitly benefit someone. But when I was a kid all bets were off.

I think tiny child me was doing their little autistic best but recognized that some situations would be best navigated by lying as telling the truth never netted positive results. Whether it was because my needs often went unmet or ignored, or because I didn’t see any reason not to lie if it would be more favorable, I’m not sure.

This is the story of my proudest lie. The best lie I ever did. A lie that looking back I still go, damn, I was eight.

Our story begins in second grade. I was eight. My school was having a book fair and I spent my small stipend on Gulliver’s Travels. No idea why. Lacking further funds I wandered the fair and came upon the greatest sight known to man. Frog erasers. They were so cute and I was extremely into animals of all kinds.

The whimsy. Who could have known they made erasers in such wonderful shapes? I mourned that I’d spent my money already, and played quietly with the little frogs in their bin. That’s when I was approached by a few other kids from my class.

I didn’t know most of them very well, but enough that it was civil when they asked me, “Are you going to buy those frogs?”

“I’d like to,” I admitted, “but I spent all my money.”

“Why don’t you steal them?”

“I thought about that, but I don’t have pockets.” Indeed, stealing had crossed my mind but it had been a brief temptation. I wasn’t even scandalized that the other girls suggested it.

“Caitlin has pockets,” the leader of the pack said. And indeed, Caitlin in her purple overalls did have pocket space for two frogs. So Caitlin and I became partners. My role in the escapade was just... wanting frogs and walking out with her. We stole two frogs, a yellow and a purple, and united by the misdeed we played together with them at recess despite not really being friendly prior.

After lunch I was called from class to the library. The principal herself was there waiting for me. She had a somber air, almost mournful that she needed to punish me. It was self evident to me that I was here for frog crimes. Caitlin had cracked and taken the fastest route to forgiveness- snitching on an accomplice. Despite the fact that my role was just: wanted frogs, I knew I was going to be in trouble.

Now, I could have told the truth. Pulled a Caitlin and ratted on the girl who told us to steal them. But clearly I’d still be in trouble for having gone along with the morally bereft plan. I was mad at Caitlin for telling but not enough to foist the onus back into her.

“Do you know why you’re here?” The principal asked kindly.

“Is it about the frogs?”

“Yes, Caitlin told us you stole the frogs.”

I quivered my lip and drew myself up indignantly. “I didn’t steal them!”

She blinked at my vehemence but since I looked near tears she carefully asked, “What happened?”

“I really wanted the frogs, but I didn’t have any money. So I asked the librarian if I could take them and bring the money tomorrow! But she was really busy and lots of people were talking to her, and she said yes! But maybe she was saying yes to someone else? And I thought it was to me but Caitlin didn’t, but I was going to bring money tomorrow!”

The principal. Was flummoxed. This was a situation in which I clearly thought I’d done no wrong, in which she couldn’t prove I had done anything wrong, and which the librarian would almost certainly not be able to weigh in. She regarded me not with suspicion but rather vaguely confused as to how to handle me.

I got off with a slight warning that I should pay for things before taking them, despite not having been the one to take things in the first place, and the frogs were confiscated.

I was vaguely worried they’d call my parents but years later when I admitted the story to my mom as an adult she laughed herself sick and said she’d never gotten a call.

#ramblies #funny #ffs foibles #writing #story #funny story

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Nickname Runs in the Family || CL16

Summary: When you end up crying on your father’s shoulder over a boy, Kimi enlists the help of Charles to teach him a lesson. Charles Leclerc x Raikkonen!Reader Warnings: nsfw, fighting, mentions of sex, WC: 2.9k

To the outside world Kimi was known as ‘The Iceman’, garnered for his cold personality in the media and how he never let anything bother him, at home however he was just called isä or dad. You really could have done with more of The Iceman persona because when it came to his family your father was anything but cool and collected.

“Tell me what happened,” Kimi demanded, your tears only streaming faster down your cheeks.

“Nothing happened, dad.”

“Something happened, tytär, don’t lie to me.”

It was stupid to go there after what happened. You should have just returned to your student accommodation at the college but you needed the comfort of home and someone you trusted. Now all of Monaco was going to hear just how hotheaded The Iceman got while your step-mother tried to put your baby half-sister back to sleep.

“Nothing happened!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands as embarrassment flamed across your cheeks. “I said no, okay. I said no and he called me a frigid bitch before dumping me and leaving me at the party.”

You expected to hear something break, or at least his heavy stomps storming towards the front door. You didn’t expect your dad to throw his head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the quiet living room. 

“Ah, that’s my girl,” he laughed as he bundled you into a hug. “I like that, Frigid Bitch. It’s good.”

You snorted a laugh despite the hurt and wiped your tears on his shoulder. “I thought you would be angry.”

“Oh, I am,” he admitted somberly. He placed a kiss on your head before standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. You didn’t see who he was calling so late at night but groaned when it was answered. “Hello, Charles. You know everyone in Monaco, where does Devereux Laurent live?”

“Isä! No!”

Your father ignored you as he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, his phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. “I’m not going to kill the little bastard, fuck, Charles, I just want to have a chat.”

The door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan about keeping your mouth shut next time. You were still ruminating over your life choices when the doorbell rang an hour later. 

“Charles?” You frowned at the man panting in your doorway like he sprinted across the city before your eyes widened at the split lip he sported. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

“Kimi.”

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah.”

You grabbed your purse that had been discarded on the kitchen table when you arrived. “Where is he?” 

“The police station.”

“Shit, he didn’t do that to you, did he?”

Charles reeled back, clearly offended. “No, you’re asshole boyfriend hit me.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you clarified as you dragged him inside and grabbed a tea towel to wrap a bag of peas from the freezer. Charles flinched as you gently pressed the ice pack to his lips and you sighed. “I’m sorry my dad got you involved in this.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the pack from your hand to place it on his swollen knuckles that you hadn’t noticed. “I got myself involved when I heard what Dev did. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t get punched in the face,” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes, however you soon sobered. “It's nothing a few drinks and a bad romcom can’t fix, after I’ve bailed dad out first. It’s not like we were together long enough to get heartbroken. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”

“I’ll drive.” He snatched a set of keys from the hook by the door, but you caught his wrist and took them back.

“That’s Minttu’s minivan.” You hung the keys back on the hook and grabbed a set for your dad’s Rolls Royce Wraith instead. The empty hook beside it was where the keys to his Ferrari Pista usually hung. “She wouldn’t be happy if you crashed her car again.”

“I didn’t crash her car,” he argued as he pocketed the keys and opened the door. “You were driving!”

“I had a shit instructor. You were too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to teach me.”

His finger jabbed the call button for the elevator as he scoffed. “You only know that because you were too busy checking me out to watch the road.”

The elevator arrived but you held a hand out to block him as you stepped into the small space. “Sorry, your inflated ego is too big to fit in here.” 

“That wasn’t a denial.”

You ignored him and jutted your head to the fireproof door. “Try the stairs.”

“But we’re on the top floor.”

You smirked as the doors started to close but he darted inside before they sealed shut.

“You’re still not denying it.”

“So you really went swinging for my honour?” you deflected as he hit the button for the garage level, exposing his swollen fist again.

“You sound surprised.” He leaned back against the wall and looked at his hand, massaging the tender bruises. “When I saw he was still at the party…”

You frowned, first at the fact that Dev went back after leaving you there, asshole, then at the fact Charles knew where he was. Charles was definitely not at the party, if he was then you would have heard the women going feral for him. “How did you know he was there? You don’t follow him on Instagram.”

“Not on my main account,” he said with a shrug. Anyone that Charles followed on social media made sure to announce the news like it was an instant ticket to ViP treatment, and Dev would have been no different. It was also the exact reason you went by Y/L/N, your mother’s surname, instead of Raikkonen. You didn’t want to be used by people for the name you carried. 

“You hate him, why would you follow him?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

“It does to me.” 

Unfortunately the doors opened and he pushed off from the wall to stride past without an answer. A flash of lights responded to the click of the button on the keys and Charles slowed his steps for you as he led the way to the sedan parked in a secluded corner, the space beside it empty of your fathers red Pista. Charles stopped at your door and opened it for you, his eyes scanning the open space that was empty and quiet save for the whine of the elevator leaving the level. 

“For you,” he admitted as you slipped into the leather seat. “I followed him to keep an eye on you.”

The door closed and you watched him walk around the car, dropping into the driver’s seat before pushing it back to suit his longer legs. He then silently adjusted the mirrors and turned down the heavy rock music that blasted when the engine started. You didn’t know what to say, all you had were more questions that could only lead to more confusion.

“You deserve better,” Charles said, breaking the awkward silence as he pulled out into the street. 

“He was just drunk.” 

“That’s not an excuse. You deserve someone who will wait until you are ready to have sex, not try it on drunk and at a party.” His words were seething by the time he finished and his knuckles turned white from the tight grasp he had on the steering wheel.

“Uh, Charles, I was joking about my honour…I’m not a virgin.”

“Wait, what?” The car slammed to a halt and he earned a toot from the Lamborghini behind before it drove around when Charles didn’t move. “Since when?” he asked as he turned in his seat to face you.

“I didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Was I meant to stand at the corner and hold a sign that said ‘deflowered’ in Times New Roman or Comic Sans?”

He didn’t even blink at your icy tone and heavy sarcasm. “But Dev said he dumped you because you didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”

“Oh my god, no! I can’t believe we are having this conversation, Charles.” You figured it couldn't get any more awkward as you looked out the window into the sleeping city. “Sex wasn’t the problem, he was upset because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

“Oh…oh.” He cleared his throat and put the car back into drive before continuing his way to the police station. “So, uh, is there anyone you do want to, um, have sex with at the moment?” 

“Why? Are you offering?” It was meant to sound teasing but there was too much curiosity in it.

His face flushed pink and his lips parted two twice before his voice worked. “I don’t do casual.”

It wasn’t a no, and that somehow made things both better and worse as a new possibility began to worm its way into your mind. You didn’t like the hope that fluttered in your stomach. Charles was a friend. Charles was someone your father trusted after Seb vouched for him. Charles was off limits. 

By the time you had filtered through the thoughts he had induced, Charles was pulling into the police station and you hoped your dad was fairing well behind bars. It turned out you had no reason to worry as you walked inside and heard his voice from behind the glass wall. 

Kimi was being well taken care of by the officers. He had a coffee in one hand, a pastry in the other and was answering questions that had nothing to do with Dev. You cringed as he recounted why he missed meeting Pelé years ago, but Charles chuckled along with the policemen as you knocked on the door.

The Monégasques fawned over their hometown hero while you watched Kimi pull himself to his feet, cracking his back that had stiffen while he was sat down. 

“I thought you would be in maximum security by now,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “What did you do?”

He patted your cheek and smiled mischievously. “I like Charles even more now.”

He gave you nothing else but that was expected. Whatever happened was obviously not on the record and you wanted to keep it that way, especially since he didn’t have a single scratch on him - like he hadn’t been in a fight at all. You were quietly contemplating that knowledge when you climbed into the backseat of the Wraith and your father readjusted everything on the driver's side back to how he had it.

“You took the fall for Charles, didn’t you?”

They both swivelled back to look at you. Charles’ eyes widened, while your father’s narrowed. 

“Fucking hell, I’m not going to tell anyone,” you growled as you threw your arms up in exasperation. “I just want to know what actually happened tonight.”

Charles waited to see if your dad wasn’t going to explain as the car pulled out of the station car park. After a moment of hesitation he took a breath and started to rattle off the truth.

“I called Kimi when I realised Dev was still at the party. It was only a block away so I thought I would meet him there to point him out.”

“I was just about at the address he gave me when he called. I got there as fast as I could but Charles was already inside,” Kimi said with a proud chortle. “Got a few good hits on the little bastard too.”

“Iså,” you warned as he enjoyed the violence just a bit too much and Charles looked sheepishly down at his hands. “Why did you fight?”

“You know why. I couldn’t stand by and let him talk about you that way.”

“Good man,” Kimi said with a stern nod. 

“And you, what did you do, dad?”

“What I had to do,” he said with a shrug. “I’m retired, Charles has a career.”

You stretched the seatbelt and leaned forward to hug your dad and kiss his cheek before doing the same to Charles. “Thank you.” Your eyes lingered on Charles as his eyes said everything he couldn’t with your father in the car. 

“He’s not pressing charges but there may be some questions if anyone caught the fight on camera. You might want to give your PR team a heads up.”

It took a moment to realise where you were and why the car had stopped outside the venue where the party was still in full swing. Drunken revellers could be heard behind the velvet curtain hanging over the door and your father handed his keys over to Charles with a shake. “Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning, no scratches.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles promised with a nod before getting out.

“You’re trusting him with your Pista?”

“I trust him with you, the car I can replace.”

You surprised him with another hug as your door opened, your voice thick with emotion as you said, “thank you.”

“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly. “I can make up the sofa bed.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll want to get out of my bed tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You stepped out and Charles closed the door, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to your father’s favourite car. “He doesn’t even let me drive this, you know.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t support Ferrari,” Charles teased as you buckled yourself in.

“I support it now.”

“What changed your mind?”

You dared to look at him and met his green eyes. “You.”

—

“Awww, she called her little puppy,” Dev taunted as he spotted Charles walking towards him.

Charles chuckled, but it held no humour and his smile was dark. You had never seen that look in his eye and your thighs clenched in response. “At least she will still call me. You just lost the best thing you never deserved.”

“Well you can have the frigid bitch, good luck getting her to put out though. Fucking cocktease.” The snort Dev made was cut off by the fist that crashed into his nose and then the both of them were going to the floor, grappling and twisting until Kimi darted into the fray and grabbed Charles.

“Go, she’s at home,” Kimi ordered as he pushed Charles back the way he came. “I’ve got it from here, kid.”

The video looped back to the start and you watched it twice more before determining you were fucked. It hit you like a train, the pressure slamming into your chest as you realised you were in love with Charles. No one had ever stood up for you like that, or taken a punch for you or risked their career. But he had.

You stayed cocooned in your blankets for most of the morning, watching the video footage from the night before and it became your new favourite binge worthy entertainment. It would probably be classed as insanity if anyone knew you had become addicted to it, but it was only the fact someone knocked at your door that you placed your phone down.

“Charles? I’m getting a little déjà-vu here,” you commented as you opened the door and found him sweating.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he blurted out. “Please.”

Your brows shot up at the outburst and you checked the student halls were empty before pulling him into your room. “Uh, you do realise who my father is, right?”

“I do, thank you for your concern,” he chuckled. “I was actually just with him. I wanted his permission to ask you on a date.”

“Well that explains why it looks like you’ve been running for your life.” You looked at your door expecting to see it kicked in. “Was he chasing you?”

“What? No, I wasn’t running. Fuck,” he groaned as he ran his hands over his jeans to dry his clammy palms. “I was just nervous about asking you out. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I will.”

“Answer the question or go out with me?”

“I will go out with you,” you clarified with a laugh.

Relieved, he took a seat at the edge of your bed and sighed happily. “I have been waiting years to ask.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded before flopping himself down comfortably and you dropped down beside him. “Your dad scared me,” he admitted as he took your hand in his.

“But not anymore.”

Charles smiled and it was one so similar to the video that was still playing on loop. He seemed to recognise the muffled sound coming from the blanket at the same time you remembered it was there and fished it out. “You’ve seen it.”

“Once or twice,” you lied. “I see why you’re not afraid anymore. That’s one hell of a right hook.”

“Oh no I am definitely still afraid of Kimi,” he corrected as he rolled on his side to face you. “But I am done watching you date assholes when I know exactly how you deserve to be treated. I want to give you the world, if you’ll let me.”

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction