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#it feels like all i ever do these days is classwork

steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

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see where the night goes

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'only one bed' rated m wc: 867 cw: some borderline somnophilia-esque behavior? tags: forced proximity, unintentional cuddling, idiots to lovers, love confessions, implied sexual content

🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️

The full sized bed was covered in the ugliest plaid sheets Steve had ever seen, which was saying something since his own bed had been covered in ugly plaid sheets.

It looked like it would fall apart if Steve sat on it, let alone lay down on it.

"Bad news first or good news first?" Eddie asked as he walked into the room.

"There's more bad news? The broken down van and the storm knocking out the power everywhere but this inn isn't bad enough?" Steve responded, putting his hands on his hips as he watched Eddie sit on the bed.

Huh. Looked like it would manage to hold at least some weight, then.

"There's no other bed."

Steve shook his head.

"That's a joke."

"Nope," Eddie popped his lips together. "I did check the bathroom though and there's a decent shower with actual hot water, so. A win's a win?"

Steve groaned.

"Dude, this bed is not big enough for both of us," Steve gestured to the bed Eddie was sitting on. "It doesn't even look big enough for you."

"Sure it is. I slept in a twin until I was nearly 18. This will be like a California King!"

Steve knew he was trying to make light of the situation.

The van breaking down four hours from home on a night when the worst storm Indiana has seen in years decided to come through was only the beginning.

Eddie had lost his wallet somewhere between the van and his walk to a payphone, which meant he had to walk all the way back to the van without having called anyone. He was soaked and cold despite the air around them being relatively warm. By the time he got back to the van, someone had stopped to check on Steve, who had been panicking about Eddie getting lost. When they finally got towed to a repair shop, the mechanic told them he wouldn't be able to look at it until the morning and that from the sounds of it, they'd need to replace a handful of parts that were more money than either of them had with them.

A weekend trip to visit Robin at college had turned into an expensive nightmare.

And now, they would be sharing a very tiny bed.

Eddie and Steve had been closer lately, especially since Robin's classwork had made it impossible for her to visit much. But sharing a full sized bed?

"Well, guess I'll go shower. Maybe it'll help me feel less like everything is falling apart," Steve sighed.

"Okay, Eeyore."

Steve rolled his eyes, but ignored him.

They got ready for bed like they were dreading it, and maybe they were.

They both got into the bed, laying on their sides facing away from each other, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from the other.

The rain pelted the roof, and lightning flashed in the distance, but it seemed like the storm was almost past.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Sorry about tonight."

"Nothing you could do, Eds."

He felt Eddie shift, but they still weren't touching.

"I guess. Still sorry though."

"Yeah, me too."

Sleep fell over them, the exhaustion of the day hitting them hard as soon as their bodies were horizontal.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Steve was sweating, which wasn't completely unusual, but definitely rare when he hadn't woken up screaming from a nightmare.

He had something, no, someone, in his arms.

Eddie.

He was curled around Eddie entirely, his arms around him, his hard dick pressing into his ass.

Eddie was still asleep, breathing softly, chest rising and falling slowly.

Steve needed to wake him up, or at least get up so he could put some space between them until his dick calmed down.

But just as he went to pull his arm away, Eddie turned around in his arms and smiled in his sleep.

And then his eyes fluttered open.

His smile faded.

"Sorry, let me-" As Eddie started to pull away, Steve tightened his arms.

"A minute."

Steve sometimes said he needed a minute like this when the kids were all yelling about things he didn't quite understand or when Robin had been rambling on for too long.

Sometimes, when he and Eddie were just hanging out, he would say it like he just had too much going on in his brain.

Like now.

Steve was looking at Eddie, really looking.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I might love you."

Eddie blinked back at him, mouth agape.

"You think you might?" His voice was quiet, hesitant.

"Yeah."

"And this is...because of us sleeping in bed together or...?"

"No. It's because when we have a shitty day that could turn into another shitty day tomorrow, I'm still just happy to be with you for it. I didn't...I guess it didn't really hit until now," Steve admitted.

Eddie gulped.

"And you think that's...love?"

"I think that's part of it. I also think I'd like to kiss you."

Eddie let out a small breath, shaky as Steve pulled him flush against his front.

"You would?"

"If that's okay."

"Is that all?" Eddie smirked, obviously implying that he could feel Steve's dick against his thigh.

"We'll see where else the night goes."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #only one bed

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shotosjupiter · 2 years

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HOW THEY ASK YOU OUT + KARASUNO

synopsis + warnings: gn!reader + fluff. how the karasuno folks ask you out <3

— DAICHI asks you outright. it took nearly every ounce of courage he possessed to ask you the question, but he had done it. eyes desperately searching yours, his hands reach out to hesitantly hold yours. it was right before volleyball practice, the school day ending for regular students. he had ran from the gym to your last class of the day and then with his hands on his knees, panting, he asked, "will... you please... go out with me?" he had asked in between breaths. he was left even more breathless when he heard your eager yes as a response.

— SUGAWARA presents you with flowers and his brightest grin. he didn't want to ask you empty-handed and he figured white carnations (they represent pure love, he checked) couldn't go wrong. stuttering just the slightest bit, he asks if you'll accompany him as his date to the local museum. he's sweating just a bit (a lot actually) as he nervously awaits your answer. you stare at the flowers for a bit and then look back up at him. his cheeks turn red and he can't help but bring you (and the flowers) into a tight, crushing hug when you say yes.

— ASAHI slides you a note in the middle of class. will you go out with me? is written out neatly across some spare notebook paper. you lift your head up to look at asahi, only for him to already be staring at you. he quickly turns his head down to his classwork, the tips of his ears bright red. his leg bounces up and down as he awaits an answer. you smile and hastily write yes i would love to with a doodle of heart and slide the note back to asahi's desk. you watch as his pen drops and he turns back in his seat to look at you, a grin spread across his face. you smile back and wave, your face heating up at the ecstatic expression across his face.

— NISHINOYA leans his arm against your locker as he pops the question casually. externally, he seems like the vision of cool-headed. he's asking the person of his dreams out, no sweat. internally? he is bouncing off the walls, screaming, nervous as hell, but praying to every entity above that you say yes. it took all of tanaka's energy to get noya enough swagger to ask you out at all. he looks up to you, eager for a response. when he sees you smile and nod to his question, he lets out a breath and then pumps his fist in the air in rejoice of victory. "you won't regret this, y/n!"

— TANAKA invites you to one of karasuno's games. he decides that if they win, then he'll ask you out. 'lo and behold, they do win. you make your down from the bleachers, eager to congratulate him when he runs to you, crushing you in a tight hug despite the sweat clinging to his skin. high on the adrenaline from the game and winning, he blurts out the question with no other thoughts on his mind other than wanting to be yours, "can you please go out with me?" he thinks that he earned two wins in a day when you say yes.

— KIYOKO asks you beneath the tree in the yard of the school. it was lunchtime, and she had made a bento for you and her to share. it was spring time and there were flower petals floating around in the wind. taking a deep breath, kiyoko turns around to face you and promptly asks you the question with her face slowly turning a shade of pink. the lunch she made you lays in your lap as you quickly grasp her hands and leave a kiss on her cheek. "yes of course i'll go out with you kiyoko,"

— YACHI sends you a text. it's the coward's way of asking, she knows. but you give her butterflies and make her nervous all around and this is the only way she could ever confess her feelings. she types it out in the cutest manner, y/n! i like you (; ω ; ) will you consider going out with me? she turns her on and off every thirty seconds to see if you've responded yet, and jumps off her seat, yelling cheers as she receives the reciprocation of her adoration.

— HINATA didn't know how to display his endearment towards you in any other way than the one he knew best: volleyball. he insists that suga pretend that he's practicing sets with him outside, conveniently next to where you sit during lunch. the ball manages to 'accidentally' be thrown right next to you. flinching, you grasp the ball to throw it back at the boys only to the (extremely messy) handwriting scrawled across the ball in a striking black shade: Y/N, GO OUT WITH ME PLEASE! hinata stands a tad bit in the distance, hands cupped around his mouth as he yells, "what do you say, y/n?"

— KAGEYAMA is a man of little words except when it comes to you. does he vocalize those words? absolutely not. you make him nervous as shit. he starts stuttering, words stumbling over the others, his mind running a mile a minute. however, one day after practice he falls into an easy conversation with you - stuttering only ever once a few sentences, he finds himself speaking words he never thought he would utter aloud. sweat is clinging to his back and neck (from practice or from being around you, he doesn't know) as he confesses just how much he likes you, his words coming easy for once.

— TSUKISHIMA is a secret romantic. he walks home with you, the two of you sharing a pair of earbuds as one of his playlists blares into your ears. you hum to the tune of a familiar song, and then promptly turn your head to tsukishima. not fast enough to have the earbud fall off your ear but with enough force for tsukishima to get his head out of his thoughts and turn to look at you, a question in his eyes. you grant him a small smile and nudge him, "do you think you could send me this playlist? i like it."

a slight blush blooms across his cheeks as he nods in response to your question. this was the playlist he made with the thought of all you made him feel and the idea of confessing to you one day. the fact that you liked it reassured him that maybe (just maybe) he had luck with you in the future.

— YAMAGUCHI fiddles his fingers as he holds out a bento full of all your favorite sweets. a note is written atop it, but you pay no attention to it as yamaguchi stammers out, "i like you. i like you so much. so take these please, even if you don't like me back." wringing his fingers, he brings up his head back up to look at you; he's met with a sweet surprise when you lay a quick kiss on his cheek and accept his confession.

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wonbin-truther · 13 days

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i will

bf! mark x reader - 715 words

hurt/comfort , non idol au

"its always you" mark whispers, hands cupping your cheeks as if you were made of glass as tears fell from his eyes.

it seemed like everything had been going wrong recently. your car had broken down, you misplaced your house keys, you and your best friend got into an argument, and other things that had been building up as the days continued. you could feel yourself slipping into the dark hole you had once pulled yourself out of by the skin of your teeth.

everything boiled over today. first you overslept, curled up in your boyfriends arms so comfortably you missed all your alarms. you showed up to class 15 min late, causing the professor to kick you out. next, you had studied weeks for an exam worth 75% of your grade and failed it horribly. the final thing was your car breaking down for the 3rd time, leaving you to walk back to your small apartment.

you could already feel tears picking your eyes as you kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto the couch. the pounding headache making it hard to gain the strength to get up and finish the housework and classwork that had to get done. you sighed, pushing yourself up to take care of the pilled up responsibilities.

at some point into your now 4 hour studying session your boyfriend mark let himself into your place. "hey babe?" his voice rang through the silence. you didnt respond, focused on the math problem that had your head in your hands. you heard the footsteps get louder as he found his way to your room, pushing open the door. he walked over to your place at the desk and kissed the top of your head. he knew better to interrupt when you were focused.

it had now been 7 hours since you started studying. mark noted how you havent moved from that position despite him trying to get you to eat and drink water for the last 3 hours he was there. he stood up from your bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"babe dont you think its time for a break"

"not now"

"lets just get dinner quickly"

everything was starting to bubble over and you could feel the stress getting to you. without thinking you yelled out, "jesus fucking christ mark leave me alone!" you didnt have time to realize what you said until mark let go of you, walking out the door wordlessly. you let the tears fall down your face as you buried your face in your hands. to add on top of the shitty weak, you can put losing your boyfriend.

little did you know mark hadn't gone very far, standing just outside your room so he could take a breather. he heard your muffled sobs and spun on his heel, pushing open your door and making his way to your shaking figure. he turned your chair around so that he had room to kneel in front of you, moving your hands out of your face so he could get a better look at you. you stared at him through wet eyelashes and jumped to hug him, knocking him to the floor and burying your face in his shoulder as you sobbed harder.

he held you close, rubbing circles into your back.

"my love its okay. what happened?" he spoke softly, holding you as close to himself as he could.

"i dont deserve you," he made out between your sobs.

"what do you mean?"

"you're too good for me. i dont deserve it"

his heart broke into a million pieces as he felt tears prick his eyes. he pulled you away from his shoulder, cupping your face in his hands. he left kisses all over your face, making you scrunch your nose and let out a small giggle as he continued to pepper them around your face. as he pulled away, you caught a tear slip down his cheek.

"why are you crying?" you stared at him, placing your hands over his.

"i hate when you cry. you deserve more than the universe could ever give you. it'll always be you my pretty girl," he left a gentle kiss on your lips and you happily kissed back. he pulled away and rubbed the stray tears from your cheeks.

"cuddle and watch a movie?" you asked

"whatever my girl wants to do"

a/n not proofread so idk if theres mistakes here 😭

#mark lee #mark #nct dream imagines #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #mark lee nct #mark lee nct 127 #mark lee nct dream #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct 127 #nct

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unadulterated-syd · 1 year

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remus lupin x reader

🌙 dancing in the moonlight 🌙 Remus: apple pie by Lizzy Mcalpine

i went off topic but u guys love me

warnings -> james and sirius are dicks but they mean well ! , none i'm kidding <3 unedited !! might not even make sense im struggling ^_^

nothing ever felt truly right to you, you worried a lot about the future, whilst also never enough.

you could never answer their questions, "what will you do after hogwarts?" you always felt embarrassed when you lacked a reply, lacked something meaningful like others.

teachers, nurses, officials— it all felt pointless to you.

or when they asked what'd happened to the last person you'd dated, or perhaps when you'd get engaged, even celebrity crushes never lasted. your mind could never settle on someone, or something.

nowadays you warned anyone you met, anyone at all. you'd made excuses, maybe you couldn't handle being tied down, maybe you'd never make for a loving parent. who knew.

it wasn't different for remus. not at first.

—

"this seat taken?" he hummed, sitting in the seat before you could even answer. truth be told the library was silent, as long as he kept quite the seat was his.

"i guess now it is." you retorted, eyes never leaving the book in front of you. you weren't necessarily indulged in the guide, but you did need to get your classwork done and this was the first step.

his eyes seemed to linger on you, you could feel it. like he was analysizing you, as if he didn't quite understand something about you. but it really made you rather uneasy.

"you're in my defense against the dark arts class, aren't you? the one with the loud mouth?"

"excuse me?" you looked at him, he gave you a questioned look as if he failed to see the problem with his remark. but, it hadn't even been the right person he was thinking about.

"always saying shitty jokes in class? expecting people to laugh? if that doesn't ring a bell—"

"we're not in the same class. i'm a friend of lily's, if you find me familiar. now please keep your remarks to yourself, i'm rather busy. it is the library."

he seemed a bit suprise by the outburst you portrayed, however he simply stared. almost in awe, most people ignored his remarks or simply moved on— mostly on account of his pranking reputation.

he left after awhile, only to tell his friends of what happened. james and sirius agreeing that their next target ought to be you, without remus' permission, and without telling peter— who was known to be a fowl liar.

the idea was to call it a revenge plan, with no real ill intent involved. truth be told, no one was really upset with you for telling remus off, the boys, including remus, likely would have taken your side.

however, any chance to prank someone was taken, and quickly. even if they often took it too far.

—

that day was no different, walking down a long corridor on your way to potions class. you never liked the dungeons of the castle, but you were more than willing to venture there for an a.

you happened to have this class with sirius, james, and lily. james had almost ratted himself out to lily, therefore the seat next to her was open— sirius having forced him to sit with him.

days with lily at your side were always the best days, potions class went by easily with the talented red head. plus homework was always made better with her.

"hey." you greeted, pulling out the stool and sitting in it.

"boy am i glad to see you," she began, a glare shooting james' way, "watch out for those two, they're acting weird. asked me where you sit the other day."

your gaze followed her glare, focusing on the two boys who were holding back snickers. you sighed, remembering the run in with remus the other day.

"i accidentally snapped at lupin the other day, i didn't think he'd take it to heart or anything."

she shrugged, promising she'd try to talk them out of it before the lecture began.

lily walked you to your next class, knowing the boys wouldn't try anything with her at your side. but, she couldn't do much else till the end of the day.

the day seemed to drag on, worried that at any moment you'd turn purple and fly to the moon— an exaggeration, maybe, but it was still as terrifying as that.

with the marauders boys you never knew— any moment you could have a mob of angry people thinking you disliked a particular band, or perhaps a proffesor would make you beg for forgiveness for something you hadn't done.

it wasn't until you stood covered in red and gold paint as people pointed and laughed, that you knew what your fate was. you wanted to shrink into yourself and never face anyone again.

even your housemates— friends, albeit everyone but lily and remus himself were laughing. with lily in shock, it forced remus to be the first to act. he was at your side within an instant, a glare shot straight at his friends who no longer found the ordeal funny.

he pulled you from the audience's eyes, forced to comply with no other hope you allowed him to. you could feel the anger flustering in your chest, you wanted to smack his pretty face. push him down, maybe even kick him while he's down.

"here." he slid his robes off, helping you pull yours off. luckily, you'd had the buttons done at the front, unintentionally shielding the dress shirt and slacks underneath them. you stared at the robes he extened to you, it didn't make much sense.

"why are you doing this? haven't you had your fun, lupin." his name sounded like poison on your tongue, if you'd been looking at him you would've seen his proper wince. he knew it looked bad for him, but explaining himself over helping you would have made everything worse.

"i really do mean well." he sighed, still extending the robes to you, having thrown yours to the side. "i had nothing to do with that, my pranks are much more.. organized."

he only continued when you threw him a glare, he was digging a hole. "i didn't mean for them to do this, really. you don't have to believe me, but at least take these and then you can be on your way."

your face softened after moments of silence, as much as you hated to admit it he was right. his prank would've ruined you, whilst theirs simply put a damper on your day. he was offering you robes because he was sympathetic to you, he didn't feel you deserved that.

you took the robes, looking at him, "thanks." you paused, there was a funny feeling settling in your chest. unfamiliar, yet you could identify it. the feeling of security, safety, possibly the idea of a future.

even if you could've walked away, you found yourself looking back at him, "are you my classmate, the loud mouth?"

—

req from -> @loving-and-dreaming

remus tags -> @loser-fics @diorgirl444 @doyouknowwhoyouare13

marauders tags -> @withastrangerheart

#remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n

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littledemondani · 1 year

Note

imagine jason beinn mean to yn in front of eddie, normally he wouldn’t care but it’s the fact he poked fun at yn for liking something nerdy

first of all, i'm so sorry this took me months to get out. fell into a bad depression, got writer's block, haven't been able to get back into the swing of things. not sure how i feel about it, but i love this idea so much i had to get it out.

warnings: fem!reader, jason and reader are in a relationship, cheating, slight angst (tho not entirely sure if it qualifies but whatever) jason is a dickhead, eddie being protective

word count: 1k

series masterlist

jason approached your at your locker to walk you to your math class. usually, you perk up when you see him, a smile so big it reaches your eyes as you throw your arms around him. but lately you haven't been as excited to see him. the past few days you've had your nose stuck in a book, reading it whenever you had free time. before class, at lunch, after you've finished your classwork, even the times jason has called you to tell you goodnight before bedtime.

he can't say he's particularly surprised at the fact you cut the world out when you read. it's a thing you've always done, even before the two of you took your relationship to the next level. but it is something that he wishes you could put down every once in a while. especially when he's around.

you don't pick your head up at the sound of his 'hey babe. ready to go?' you grab your backpack off of the ground, sling it over your shoulder, and walk off.

jason mumbles an, 'okay then' and speeds up a little to catch up with you. the silence is awkward, something jason isn't used to, and it makes him uneasy, his patience literally teetering on the edge.

"what are you reading?" he asks, hoping it engages some reaction out of you.

"the fellowship of the ring," you respond, eyes never leaving the page.

he has no idea what you're talking about. even though you've explained to him before, multiple times actually, that the lord of the rings series is your absolute favorite and you can reread it over and over without ever getting bored.

"is that some romance novel or something?" he inquires.

that causes you to slam the book closed, turning your head to look up at him with furrowed brows.

"what?" he scoffs, genuinely confused by your reaction.

"you're really asking me that?" you deadpan. "i've told you before the lord of the rings is a fantasy novel. god, do you even listen to me when i talk about the things i like?"

jason is taken aback by your sudden change in attitude. though the slight concern he felt doesn't last very long and is replaced by anger and a need to lash out back at you to save his ego.

"i would if the stuff you were into wasn't so fucking weird," he counters, glaring at you in an attempt to make you seem small.

it works.

your resolve crumbles down. despite knowing deep down that jason felt this exact way, you never expected it to hurt as much as it does to hear him say it out loud. your eyes well with unshed tears, chest tightening and feeling as if it's closing in on itself, breaths growing a little heavier. your mind is blank, unable to come up with a response to give him.

"do you have any idea the type of crap the guys give me because of you?" he shouts, not caring that you're both in the middle of the hallway with a bunch of students scrambling to get to class on time. "they wonder what i'm even doing dating a girl like you. call you a freak. it's fucking embarrassing."

the tears stream down your face, staining your skin with black from your mascara. you can't even bother to look at him anymore, glancing down at your scuffed up converse.

a million emotions are hitting you all at once - anger, sadness, shame, disappointment are all at the forefront. you sniffle, rubbing the tears away with the wrist of your jacket.

"sorry," you say softly. "i'm sorry you can-."

"hey!" a voice from behind jason shouts. "i always knew you were a piece of shit, but picking on your girlfriend is a new low, carver. even for you."

eddie stares daggers at jason. he knows firsthand how cruel jason can be, having been on the receiving end of his bullying more times than he can count on both hands, but never did he think jason would turn that hatred onto you.

and he wasn't going to just stand by and let that happen.

"stay the fuck out of it, munson," jason warns through gritted teeth. "this doesn't concern you."

"see, that's where you're wrong," eddie counters, moving to step in between you and jason. "it absolutely does concern me. you think i'm gonna let you get away with treating her like that? what, because she has different interests than you? get the fuck over yourself."

"eddie," you plead, pulling on his jacket sleeve in order to get his attention. "it's okay, really, just drop it. please?"

curious eyes watch the situation unfolding before them, but neither of you seem to care or notice.

"i'm not gonna tell you again," jason seethes, stepping closer to eddie as he does so. "fuck off."

"or else what?" eddie smirks. "whatcha gonna do, carver? hit me?"

the final bell rings and that seems to snap jason back to the present. he scoffs a little, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulders. "nah," he responds, shaking his head. "you're not fucking worth it."

he walks off in the opposite direction of your class to head to his own, not so much as saying a word to you or even acknowledging your presence.

you let go of a shaky breath, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat.

"you okay?" eddie asks, making sure jason was completely gone before brushing his thumb along your cheek tenderly.

"you didn't have to do that," you say.

"'course i did," he replies, giving you a soft smile. "no one talks to my girl that way."

butterflies erupt in your stomach and you can't help but chuckle. "yeah, well, thanks."

"anytime," eddie winks at you.

he holds his arm out for you to grab hold of, which you happily do, and walks you the rest of the way to your class.

"i really thought you were gonna hit him," you say, glancing a look at his face.

"shit, i almost did," he confesses. "how awesome would that have been?"

"okay calm down," you giggle, waiting for him as he opens the classroom door for you.

"what? it would've been!"

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst

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pochipop · 2 years

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＃BNHA !! ♡ — CONFESSING TO YOU.

#. synopsis! — they confess to you after realizing how hard they've fallen following your killer performance at the ua sports festival .

#. characters! —bakugo, kaminari, todoroki .

#. warnings! — none .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. part I! — you can find the prerequisite fic: here .

𖦹. ━ BAKUGO !!

Classwork has really gotten interesting lately. Not because you and your peers are reading anything special, —but because the physical aspects have been amplified in order to prepare for the future. At the start of it all, you weren't sure UA was a good fit for you, nonetheless that Class 1A was a suitable starting point. But you quickly fell into the swing of things, and you fought hard to make a name for yourself in spite of any obstacles. As you built your confidence, a certain hot-tempered someone took notice, although he's hard pressed to admit it.

Even now with this haphazard plan jumbling around in his brain, he's not so sure this is the right way to go about things. But Bakugo knows that if he doesn't do it now, he might never do it at all. And if he's being honest, that part might frazzle him more than the thought of rejection. At the very least, he thinks you should know that. . . That he feels something for you, whatever the hell you wanna call it. He's tired of keeping it inside. Katsuki, of all people, is anything but used to shying away from his opinions, —and this one has been plaguing him for way too long.

"Hey, y/n!" He calls over to you.

You follow through with the punch you're landing on the training bag before turning to him.

"Yeah?" You ask, arms dropping to your side with a distant ache.

It's so commonplace by now that your brain hardly registers anything at all.

"We need to talk," Bakugo states, leaving little room for questions.

You can't say you're devoid of nerves, but he's been quite nice to you recently, so they've tempered off quite a lot. When you think back on it, you don't really know if he was ever mean to you personally. For the most part, he's always been. . . Nice? It's a word you struggle to connect with him due to his aggressive personality, but it seems to be the one that suits this scenario the best. His kindness has never been overt, but asking to spar with you might just be the biggest compliment someone like Bakugo can give. It means he sees you as someone capable of challenging him, and considering he thinks quite highly of himself, that's saying quite a bit.

"Oh?" You tilt your head to the side in confusion, "Is everything okay?"

His cheeks puff out for a moment or two before he responds.

Ah. . . That was cute.

"I don't really know how to say it," he acknowledges, "so just. . . Just listen until I'm done."

The please he tacks on softly at the end is almost too soft for you to hear. You'd even call it desperate.

"Your performance at the Sports Festival was. . ." He pauses, searching for the right words.

"It was really good," Katsuki settles.

Now that he's thinking about it critically, it was there that he solidified his feelings, whether passively or otherwise. It was there that he felt his heart swell with pride for you, —much to his own bewilderment. He felt prouder of you than he did of himself, despite having won the entire thing. When he thinks back on that day, he feels slivers of anger, but the memories of watching you dominate in the first round from the bleachers really set him on fire. It soothes that ball of complete and utter rage inside of him, if only for a moment. It tempers him out for the first time in a long while, eases that ache inside that he tries his best to stuff down and ignore.

An ache that derives from his secret worry that he might never be enough.

"Oh, you think so?" You smile softly, and he feels himself melt a little, lips pulling upward before he can think twice about it.

"That means a lot, especially coming from the one who won the whole thing," you add.

"Winning isn't everything," he replies quickly.

Too quickly to filter his sentiments. Winning has always been important to him, —it's established him as a top contender for all areas of his life. It's been the thing he's fallen back on time and time again. No matter what anyone has ever said, Katsuki is a winner. He's the best.

But even when he wins, something inside always yearns for more. And sometimes it's more than he fears he could ever achieve. More than he could ever be.

"I didn't think you'd say something like that," you acknowledge, "—but I agree. And not just because I lost."

"It's still important to win, of course," he attempts to fix the mask that's slipped, —even now,— "but you did well, even if you lost. And that's good too."

"But not good enough?" You muse, half jokingly.

It goes over his head, to say the least.

"It's good enough," Bakugo says, tone low and firm.

It carries his characteristic bluntness, but lacks the aggression. There's something there that you can't quite place. . . Something you're not sure you're at liberty to ask about, not that you'd really know how in the first place.

"You're good enough."

His words take you aback. It's unlike him to say something so seemingly sentimental. Even so, you're left to wonder if he was saying that to you because he wanted you to say it back. Maybe he was talking to himself here as well.

Before you have the chance to say anything, he speaks again.

"I like you. I don't really know why, so don't go asking for details, —I just do. There's probably a lot of reasons, but I don't know how to say them, so just take it for what it is."

Take me for what I am. For what I'm yet to be as well.

You pause for a few seconds to process everything that's been thrown at you. You know you can't leave him hanging here, especially not after that. On the surface, you like Bakugo. He's a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but he's got his own ways of expressing gratitude and caring for those around him. He's got his own way of giving people compliments, —and he's way outside of his comfort zone right now. That much is obvious.

"Are you hungry?" You ask him, smiling gently.

He looks confused, but simply answers in spite of it.

"Kind of."

"Let's go get some dinner together, then," you suggest. "My treat."

He doesn't really get it, but if you're asking to spend time with him he figures that's not a rejection. Dinner together will give the both of you time to talk, —time to learn more about each other. After that, maybe those disjointed feelings of his will piece themselves together a little more.

Until then, you'll just enjoy his company. He's not a bad conversationalist once you get to know him.

𖦹. ━ KAMINARI !!

Kaminari is a wreck. The closer he gets to you, the more his heart pounds, and he's convinced himself that you can hear it no matter the physical distance between the two of you. These feelings are scary and they make him want to run away from it all, so far that he loses sight of them somewhere.

He asks Mina for advice, but that doesn't quite go as planned. She tries to take over, —tells him he should throw some kind of party and convince you to come so he can ask you to dance with him when a slow song plays.

"Then you'll confess, and by the time you do, y/n will have totally already fallen for you!"

Denki's not so sure about that. He's also nowhere near confident enough in his own dancing abilities to hinge his entire plan on them. Not to mention the fact that, while he can be oblivious to things, he caught on quickly enough that Mina just really wanted a reason to throw a party.

Count Kaminari out for that idea.

He turns to the internet next: a place of vast ideas. He considers buying you chocolate in one of those big, fancy, heart-shaped boxes; but Valentine's Day has already passed for the year, making those much harder to come by. Not to mention that he was far too nervous to ask about your preferences, —because what if you immediately realized what he was planning on doing? What if you rejected him right there before he really had the chance to properly confess?

Kaminari doubts you'd do anything of the sort, and even if you did, he knows it would be put gently, but his fear of humiliation wins out on that one.

No big, elaborate party to slow dance at. And no chocolate.

Flowers then? Everyone likes flowers, right? Everyone except for Bakugo, maybe, Denki notes. That might not even be true, but he has a certain hunch, —not that he plans on asking his easily agitated friend about that anytime soon.

Still, Kaminari ventures to the nearest flower shop one afternoon and asks one of the workers there for some help. They give him a variety of options: —red roses are classic, but in recent years, people have been giving their loved ones roses in their favorite colors instead. The yellow ones are bright and pretty, but the blue ones seem so elegant and refined. And that's simply one type of flower alone! There's tulips, which seem a little more playful but are still beautiful and smell so sweet, peonies, daisies that range in sunset colors, even sunflowers. . .

In the end, he leaves with nothing, feeling lost and confused. He considers other options over the following days as well.

Maybe he could have Sato bake you something? But what if he picks the wrong flavor, just like with the chocolate?

Scratch that, —maybe a teddy bear will do the trick! But what if you'd prefer something different, like a rabbit, or even a unicorn.

No teddy bear. Jewelry? Something handmade? Fancy skincare products?

By the end of the week, Denki has a trashcan full of crumpled papers, all discarded ideas that he found something wrong with. If only he put this much effort into his school assignments. . .

A comment from some random person on an anonymous message board is the one to seal the deal. When he asks what he should do, they respond by telling him "not to be a chicken, just do it lol."

Just do it?

Somehow he'd never really considered that as an option. . .

You're shocked to find a note slipped inside your desk on Monday morning. It doesn't have a name, but it asks you to meet the author of it at a park nearby after school, —in the little garden city officials planted a few springs ago, and now pay people to upkeep in the warmer months. You do as asked, but are cautious. It's daytime, there are many people around, and you have your cellphone on you just in case of an emergency. Better to be safe than sorry!

"Kaminari?" You question upon your arrival.

The poor boy nearly trips over himself spinning around toward you. He'd expected you to come from the other direction. . .

"Y/n, —hi," he manages to say without fumbling for words. "Nice day, huh?"

"Um, yeah! I heard it was supposed to rain, but I'm glad it didn't. I'd have gotten soaked on the way here, —I completely forgot my umbrella back at the dorms," you admit.

I didn't even consider the weather, he thinks. Ugh.

"Anyway, were you the one that wrote this?" You ask, holding up the note between two of your fingers.

"Yeah," he nods, nervousness practically seeping from every pore on his body. "I. . . I have something to tell you, and I didn't know where else we could go, so I thought this might be the best bet."

And I wrote the note because I was still worried about rejection, and wanted to hold onto the idea that it could work for just a while longer.

"Well, I'm all ears," you say softly.

His heart is pumping so loud he's afraid it might burst, but he forces his lips apart to speak.

"I have feelings for you," Denki says, catching you by surprise.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

His edges soften when you crack a bashful smile.

"Yeah," you nod, "I'd like that."

He's too elated by your response to grieve all the hours he spent contemplating it. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until it all came spilling out in a relieved sigh.

Thank you, anonymous message board user!

"Oh! And before I forget, —what do you think about all these flowers?"

𖦹. ━ TODOROKI !!

Overall, Todoroki considers himself to be someone who has pretty good control over his emotions. Sure, that might stem from his rough childhood where he was forced to swallow down his feelings to please others, —but in the end, he's learned to regulate himself quite well, for better or worse.

Even so, you've spun him out. He's floundering, despite hiding it like a master magician. He can keep all of it locked away inside, push it down until it's almost out of sight and out of mind, but it creeps back up to the forefront every chance it gets. It's keeping him awake. And he's almost ashamed to admit it, as someone who's been fairly soured on the idea of "true love," —whatever that's supposed to feel like. He acknowledges that he's both young and inexperienced, but can't shake the thought of you.

Shoto doesn't want to let anyone down. Not even those he's come to resent. After all his hard work, he thinks it would likely be a waste to give it all up now. . . But is that really what would happen if he acknowledged his own feelings? Is the forming of bonds really something that makes you weaker?

Or is that just another residual piece of his father talking from inside him?

"Todoroki," Midoriya nudges the split-haired boy, bringing him out of his thoughts.

He blinks himself back to reality.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"Y/n's looking for you," Izuku repeats, "not sure why though."

"Oh. . . Okay, thanks," Shoto stands, "—where should I go?"

"School gates, probably!"

Todoroki thanks his friend again before rushing off. He's not sure why he's going so fast, it's not like he won't have the opportunity to speak with you at another point if he happens to miss you this time, but. . .

The truth is that he wants to see you. He wants to test things. He wants to pull away from whatever strings his father still holds over him. Shoto would rather hand them over to you.

"Todoroki!" You call out as soon as you see him, "there you are!"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm a little out of it today," he admits. "Do you need something?"

"Nothing in particular," you shake your head, "I just wanna talk, is all. You seem a little. . . Dejected lately."

You noticed? Nobody else had, as far as he was aware. If they had, they hadn't brought it to his attention, nonetheless taken the time to speak with him about it. He's almost ashamed to have let you see him in that state, —but more than that, he's glad someone has cared enough to ask.

The Sports Festival was hard for him; not because he lost, but because he was forced to reconcile with many different aspects of himself that he wasn't sure he was ready to face so adamantly. Still, he gets the feeling that whatever he says, you won't judge him for it, and definitely won't repeat it to anyone.

"I've had a lot on my mind since the Sports Festival," he sighs. "I don't know that I'm ready to get into it, even with myself."

"You don't have to," you assure him quickly. "Even if you never tell me anything, that's okay. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. I also. . . Just wanted to make sure you knew that I'd be here if you ever need someone to talk to."

To act on these feelings. . . Would that be wrong?

Todoroki smiles softly.

Bonds. . . Can also make you stronger, I believe.

"I appreciate that," he tells you. "Really. The way you care for people is admirable. I think it's one of the reasons I like you so much."

I am allowed to be honest with my feelings.

That takes you by surprise.

"Speaking of that, since school is over. . . Would you like to go get ice cream, or something? Just the two of us?"

This is not a sign of weakness.

"Y-Yeah!" You nod quickly, heart skipping a beat. "I know a place just a few minutes away!"

"Great," Shoto nods, relishing in the warm feeling that bubbles up from inside. "Lead the way."

This is a sign of strength.

594 notes · View notes

mollymauk-teafleak · 1 year

Text

you can set my broken bones and i know cpr

I’ve been mentioning this fic for so long its not even funny but it’s finally here! What I imagine their first time to be like, as intense and messy as they are. As always this is dedicated to and comes with huge thanks to my wonderful gf @hangsters!

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3 if you liked this!

-----

What's your problem, Kazansky?

Tom is trying to work out the answer to that question when, all of a sudden, it walks through the door.

-----

What’s your problem, Kazansky?

It was a hell of a question.

Tom didn’t think Maverick had meant much by it, he was just riling him up, business as usual. Snapping and nipping at each other the way they always seemed to when they were forced into close proximity, testing each other’s limits, finding out where the boundaries were. Normal amongst guys like them, the best of the best, bold, young men used to defying the laws of physics as a day job.

But Maverick and Iceman found those boundaries just so they could break them. That wasn’t normal.

It was locker room posturing but when Maverick had said that, Tom’s brain had apparently seized it with both hands, eagerly replaying it over and over to drive him mad. What’s your problem, Kazansky?

Not just the words but the way Maverick said it, his hair slick with sweat and eyes sparking with leftover adrenaline, the collar of his too large flight suit turned up in a way that made Tom want to take a fistful of it. Just round and round in his brain as he tried to focus on his classwork, as he tried to distract himself by working out, as he tried to do anything but think about Pete Mitchell.

It was a hell of a question but at least Tom had answered honestly. Kind of. He wasn’t sure he could lie to Maverick, just take evasive action.

What’s your problem, Kazansky?

You’re everyone’s problem.

Maverick was everyone’s problem, he hadn’t lied, the guy was going to get someone killed one of these days. It was only that Tom probably had a slightly different problem than the rest of them. A different kind of crash and burn was waiting for him the more time he spent thinking about Maverick, goddamn Maverick with that smile and those eyes and that way of looking at Ice’s walls and knowing exactly where the cracks were.

Because Maverick had been honest too. He was dangerous. More dangerous on the ground than he ever could be in the air, at least to Tom. Up there, he knew how to fly right, keep it perfect and seamless to throw off cowboys like Maverick.

But down here, Tom was trapped. Trapped with that fucking crooked smile and his own traitorous brain that didn’t know when to let go of something that was going to ruin him, that refused to learn lessons he’d already had beaten into him.

What’s your problem, Kazansky?

It was a hell of a fucking question.

Being at Top Gun was a lot like being in high school, in a very depressing way.

Tom was back to fighting to prove he was the best, back to his unhealthy studying schedule, back to measuring his self worth on a scoreboard. Back to spending all hours at the gym to try and wear himself out too much to think about another guy.

It really was exhausting to realise how little ground he’d covered since then.

Slider wasn’t happy with him, it had been obvious on his face, when Tom tried to lightly, casually, shrug and say he wasn’t feeling home just yet, he’d stay and work out a little longer, trying to make it sound as though the thought had just occurred to him. Slider knew him far too well to be fooled, his face had fallen into the frown that Ice assumed he must use with his daughters when they tried to tell him they had no idea who’d tracked mud through the house or who’d scribbled in crayon on the walls.

He’d thought for a moment his RIO would dig his heels in, get stubborn the way he only ever did when Ice was doing this to himself. But he’d just sighed and shrugged and muttered something about making sure Tom paced himself, leaving him to it. Leaving Tom feeling absurdly guilty, of course, but he’d find a way to make it up to him.

Making sure he didn’t get kicked out of the Navy and leave him without a pilot would be a start.

So Tom headed down to the gym as the windows were filling with the orange glow of sunset. Breathing easily the way he only could in an empty room, he kicked the treadmill into a setting most people would wince at and lost himself in the act of running. It had always felt good, Tom letting his heart thunder in his chest and his pulse roar through his ears, his muscles burning and his lungs fighting in his chest. He’d spent so many evenings like this when he was younger, just running along the beach without caring where he was going or worrying about saving energy for getting back home. It had been the only way for Tom to satisfy his restless anxiety, at least until he’d learned to fly.

He’d never truly been able to run from the things chasing him. The shouting at home, the slamming doors and fists against the walls, the tension at school, the constant fear of anyone finding out. All those followed him, no matter how fast he ran, even now he was supposed to have outgrown it all.

But it was nice to believe it, for a little while.

At least until it tipped over from pain Tom could bear into pain he couldn’t. Regretfully, he thumbed the button until he dialled down from a headlong sprint to a rapid walk, panting heavily, eventually no longer at risk of hurling on his own trainers, just trembling and gasping and blinking sweat out of his eyes.

There was one blissful moment of silence or at least what passed for silence while blood was scorching through his ears and his heart was throwing itself against his ribs.

Just one though.

“What the hell is your problem, Kazansky?”

This had to be some kind of nightmare, Tom thought numbly. There was no other explanation for why the very man he’d come here to get away from would be standing there right now, towel in hand, eyebrow cocked in a way that was inherently punchable. It had to be a nightmare, on par with the classic turning up late for an exam you didn’t study for or appearing in the middle of the assembly hall naked. God help him, he really was back in high school.

“You trying to kill yourself or something? Jesus Christ…” Maverick scowled, as if he had any right to an opinion on what Tom did with his spare time, “If you’d tripped, that pretty face of yours would have been smeared about a mile across the floor.”

Tom swallowed hard and steeled himself, even as his skin burned and chest heaved and sweat ran in sheets down his face. Maverick was always doing that. Moving in close. Letting his eyes wander. Stretching and flexing when he knew Tom was looking. That pretty face of yours.

Tom had always had guys getting up in his face, that was being in the Navy, that was being a fighter pilot. But this part was new, this part was all Pete Mitchell. Those little jabs that could just be posturing, could just be Maverick’s own tastes, the ones that had been obvious to Tom since he’d first set eyes on the man.

But could so easily be a less than subtle I know. I know exactly what you’re thinking, Tom Kazanksy.

That was the part Tom had no clue how to deal with. That was where the crash and burn was waiting.

So he did what had been working for him so far, what he’d done when Maverick had given him that smile from across the briefing room and when he’d bared those teeth and got nose to nose with him in the locker room, trying to make the Iceman flinch. Tom just set his jaw, didn’t move a muscle in the direction Maverick wanted him and smiled like this was all amusing rather than terrifying.

“Sweet of you to care, Mitchell, but I’m fine,” he turned away from him to kick the treadmill up into a light jog, keeping him out of sight to make things easier, “What are you doing here? Sure there’s a small army of girls at the O Club wondering why there’s no overcompensating shortass doing bad karaoke in their faces.”

He heard Maverick give an exaggerated wince and sigh, “Damn…and here I was trying to make you proud, Ice. I thought good little pilots stayed up all night to make sure they were the best…”

“Realised you couldn’t keep up with me on nice white teeth and charm alone, huh?” Tom gritted his teeth and thumbed the button to take the speed up higher, ignoring the protesting burn in his chest.

He couldn’t see the way Maverick’s eyes crinkled and his grin turned crooked as he laughed but Tom’s turncoat brain filled it in for him anyway.

“Guess not…you really think my teeth are nice?”

Tom’s face burned for a reason other than the punishing pace of his feet, “Yeah. A pretty nice target.”

“There it is,” he laughed again, a highly irritating ease to it like this really was just fun for him.

Maverick slung his towel over the frame of the machine next to Tom. Of course, with the entire rest of the gym completely empty. What would be the point otherwise?Tom wanted to ask what the hell he was doing here. He wanted to ask where Goose was, at least he was a good, affable buffer. He wanted to turn heel and run away. But all of those were different degrees of letting Mitchell win so he just focused on breathing and running, on trying to believe that every heavy step would take him further away from this problem.

“God, you’re doing it again. Kazansky, if you wanna compare dicks with me, we can just go into the showers and get it over with, you don’t need to give yourself a freaking coronary.”

Maybe it was the mention of dicks- something a certain part of Tom’s brain was already doing way too much thinking about with Maverick in those gym shorts- or maybe it was because Maverick had missed but still hit far too close for comfort. Whatever the reason, those words shot right through a chink in the armour and Tom found himself snapping and throwing his fellow pilot a glare.

“Why do you care?”

Maverick arched his eyebrows, like he was just as surprised as Tom at the slip, “Aren’t you the one who told me we’re on the same side?”

“But you don’t care about that,” Tom panted, hating how weak he sounded, trying to speak as he ran.

“Well. Maybe I’m having too much fun with some actual competition,” Maverick quirked his shoulders, “Believe whatever you want, just be careful. Cracking your head open on a fucking treadmill would be a really dumb death for a fighter pilot.”

Figuring out why this was infuriating him so much more than the smug grins and raised fists would probably take more soul searching and therapy than Tom would ever have time for.

“I don’t need Pete Mitchell of all people telling me to be careful,” he growled, turning the speed up just to be an asshole.

Maverick rolled his eyes, “Kazansky, it’s just us here. I mean, for God’s sake…”

That’s what’s worrying me. So Tom clicked his teeth closed and focused his eyes ahead, resolving to pretend this conversation had ended despite all social cues. Whatever was coming at the end of Maverick’s exasperation, if anything even was, he didn’t want to know. He wouldn’t allow himself. The only thing he was allowed to do was run.

And then even that was taken away from him. Because his left foot suddenly caught on the edge of his right sneaker, because suddenly he was lurching forward with no way to stop himself or right himself, because suddenly there was no time to even make a noise or even brace for the pain.

Because suddenly a hand was slamming on the stop button and a surprisingly strong arm was wrapping around his chest and holding fast like the harness in his plane. The track halted and that solid arm was enough that Tom could jerk his foot out and catch himself. It felt like his stomach kept moving though, slamming sickeningly into the bottom of his feet with the realisation of just how close he’d come to a nose dive onto what was essentially a belt sander.

And the realisation that it was Maverick holding him upright.

“Fuck,” there was a fair amount of surprise on the other pilot’s face. His finger was still on the stop button and his arm was still around Tom, “Didn’t I say you were being a moron?”

Tom jerked back like the touch was burning him, so sharply that he nearly went sprawling all over again, “Don’t.”

Maverick frowned, “Don’t? Don’t what, don’t keep you from giving yourself a concussion? Jesus, Kazansky-”

“Why do you do that?” Tom wheezed, trying to get his breath so he could sound less like a pouty child, “You hardly ever use my callsign except when you’re making fun of me. It’s fucking infuriating.”

He wasn’t exactly going to recover from that so Tom just stalked off towards the showers. He’d run circles around his bedroom if he had to, so long as it wasn’t where Pete Mitchell was. Though the man himself seemed determined to make that harder, at his heels like one of those little dogs that just wanted to keep snapping at you, whether it was winning or not.

“What, you want me to call you Iceman? You sound like a Batman villain and not one of the interesting ones,” Maverick was bristling, though Tom couldn’t see why and had no desire to find out.

“What I want is for you to get out of my face, Maverick,” Ice scowled, pulling his sweat soaked shirt up over his head, training his eyes on the locker in front of him, trying to turn the other pilot into a buzzing irritation in the corners of his eye, something small and dismissable.

“For helping you? See, this is what I don’t understand about you,” Maverick squared his shoulders, Tom only knowing because he felt the wary prickle it sent down his spine, “When I’m an ass, you play the game and you bite back. But when I actually try to be nice…I don’t get you.”

“And why do you care about getting me?” Tom asked before realising with a wave of sickening panic that he wasn’t supposed to want that question answered.

That panic made him turn, looking to end whatever this was and head to the showers to probably do something embarrassing about it. But of course that brought him nose to chest with Maverick. Tom expected anger, he expected that smug, crooked grin, he expected gritted teeth and challenge.

But Pete Mitchell just looked uncertain. Not a look Tom had ever expected to see on that face but it suited his features better than it really should.

“Because…because it’s just us here?” he said. Like that was all there was to it. “So…so what's your problem, Kazansky?”

Tom swallowed hard, “You’re dangerous.”

Maverick’s mouth twitched, “And you’re smug.”

“You’re cocky,” Tom took a step forward, bringing them closer.

Maverick lifted his chin, “You’ve got a stick up your ass the length of my arm.”

“And…” Tom took a deep breath, though it didn’t do much to slow his heart, “And this is never going to work out, Mitchell.”

Of all things, Maverick laughed, his eyes so bright it looked like a fever. The way they’d looked when he’d first asked him that hell of a question, when he’d gotten right up in Tom’s face and turned the callsign that was his armour into a joke. The way they probably looked when Mav threw back the throttle in his plane and pulled off some insane, probably illegal manoeuvre that by all rights should have got him confined to quarters or slammed into the ground at mach two. Except this time his hand was outstretched and he was asking Tom to come with him.

“How do you know if you never try?” Maverick cocked his head and grinned.

Tom gritted his teeth, letting go of the last scrap of self control, “God damn you, Mitchell.”

He grasped the shorter pilot by the shoulders and kissed him hard enough to bruise.

Part of him, despite it all, was still expecting Maverick to flinch back in disgust, to shove him back and look at him the way all the other guys had, like there was a world of difference between them and him. Even if it had been them who’d pushed him onto his knees in the first place.

But Maverick only grinned into the kiss, like this was a triumph, gasping, “Forget God. I was kinda hoping you’d have the honour of damning me, Kazansky.”

“Showers,” Tom said firmly, giving Maverick a shove in that direction.

They were alone here, as far as they could tell, but there was no sense in being stupid. Guys like them didn’t survive by being stupid. Plus Tom knew he probably stank. So he yanked Maverick down to the stall furthest from the door and turned the water on high, looking to fill the small, tiled space with the sound of drumming water and some forgiving steam. But he was close enough to hear Maverick undressing behind him, fabric dropping to the floor, dog tags rattling lightly, movements urgent and shameless.

It wasn’t as if Tom hadn’t seen Maverick without his clothes on before, if you were in someone’s squad, you’d see their dick and that was just the way the Navy went. But the way the guy was just tossing his gym shirt and shorts aside like they were just dressing down after a hop, like there was nothing unusual about this. Like this had all been inevitable. Like he’d been thinking about Tom as much as Tom had been thinking about him.

Except Maverick hadn’t been torturing himself over it. Maverick had just gotten in his face and done something about it.

That thought was knocked out of Tom’s head as he was shoved under the water, still wearing his shorts. Thankfully he’d been standing there like an idiot long enough that the old pipes had finally started sputtering out warm water. So at least he wasn’t freezing as Maverick span him and pressed his back against the cubicle wall.

“What are you…” Tom blinked in confusion, watching Maverick sink onto his knees.

Maverick’s eyes narrowed, “You’re not familiar with the concept of a blowjob, Kazansky? You sure looked like you knew what one was when you were eating ice cubes at me in the O Club.”

Tom huffed out an irritated breath, “I’m not familiar with guys pulling me into showers to give rather than get.”

He wasn’t sure why he said that. There was no reason to tell Maverick that his experiences in the navy had never moved much beyond his high school ones, quick flashes that were never worth the shame that rushed in as soon as they were over, men wanting very specific parts of Tom and disregarding everything else about him, like he was a carcass they were dividing up. They wanted his hands but told him not to speak so they wouldn't hear his deep voice. They wanted his willing mouth but closed their eyes. They wanted his trustworthy silence and not to meet their eye in the locker room the next day, they wanted him to know the very simple rules of this and stick to them. They were never hooking up with him, he was just a body for them to put whatever face or hands or voice they wanted over his own.

Tom wasn’t sure why he said that. And he wasn’t sure why it should be any different with Maverick.

But Maverick just gave a derisive snort and wrinkled his nose, “What kind of major league assholes have you been taking to bed?”

He pulled down Tom’s sodden shorts, grinning at the erection that nearly smacked him in the face, “Fuck. Good to know you’ve got something to back up that smug grin, huh?”

“I got plenty,” Tom bared his teeth at him, curving his body a little more so the shower spray broke against his back, shielding Maverick from it.

But droplets still hung heavy in his eyelashes and his hair, clinging to the dark strands and making them shine. Between that and the sharp angles, the glitter in his eyes, he could have been half obsidian, like if Tom reached down and touched him, he might cut his fingers. But he reached down anyway, rewarded by the soft touch of his cheek, feeling his smile in the sweep of his jaw. After the chaos in his brain a few seconds ago, there was something oddly still about this moment. The steady sureness of a decision made with no way to turn back.

“Sure…wanna see what I got?” Maverick smirked, before leaning in and licking up the underside of Tom’s cock.

He inhaled sharply, that line of foreign warmth burning its way along him, “Yes…”

Maverick’s delighted laugh was lower, rougher, cut short as he kissed up and down the considerable length of him, focusing on the head, that spot that made Tom’s vision blur. He toyed with him, something playful in how he warmed him up, in how he let his breath run hot along his skin, in how he got him wet and slick with spit. Like he wanted to hear something and knew he could tease it out of Tom.

And Tom wasn’t about to disappoint him.

“Oh god, please,” Tom moaned, his grip on Maverick’s hair tightening as the other pilot’s hands went wandering between his thighs, “Mav…”

“Something wrong, Kazansky?” he nearly purred, voice smug and breathy. His fingers were still moving.

“You know damn well what,” Tom growled, feeling every nerve in his body thrumming like an out of tune instrument, everything Maverick was doing so much, yet not enough.

“No, no, if you’ve got a critique, I wanna hear it…” Maverick was somehow finding a way to grin and run his teeth along his cock in one smooth motion, “You’ve never been shy about it with my flying.”

“Thats a completely different thing and you know- oh god, come the fuck on, Mitchell.”

With a bark of borderline evil laughter, Maverick finally gave Tom what he needed, taking everything he could into his mouth and wrapping a tight fist around what he couldn’t. After teasing him so effortlessly, he suddenly became too generous, using every trick in whatever book guys like them built up over the years. He hollowed his cheeks, he swirled his tongue, his free hand caressed Tom’s thighs in a way that relaxed those muscles for what had to be the first time in years. Tricks that Tom knew but probably couldn’t execute as well, not that he’d ever be admitting that to Maverick.

Though he felt like he was admitting enough, his body not releasing he had a reputation to uphold in this rivalry that was becoming something very hard to define right now. Tom found the pitch of his voice soaring and plummeting without warning, his head tipping back so the water ran down his face in sheets but he couldn’t make himself care. Almost like if he drowned here, it would be worth it.

The noises coming out of him, the sighs and moans and bitten off curses, he could feel himself wanting to be embarrassed by them, like a muscle reflex. But Maverick’s hands on his balls, his thumb running up his dick, his teasing teeth kept Tom rooted in place. The little voice in the back of his mind that always whispered to him in moments like this, telling him this could ruin everything, had shut up for once. It felt more like a fist drawn back than any real relief but right now, he’d take it.

Tom held out as long as he could, clinging to every single second, because god only knew what was going to happen when this ended. But with Maverick sucking him off with the same infuriating competence he flew with, with the same reckless abandon, he couldn’t even be completely certain how long it had been before he was at the edge.

“Mitchell…” he managed to turn the gasps and moans and growls pouring from him into something like words, “Mitchell.”

Maverick didn’t slow, eyes flashing up at him like a crooked finger. He only took Tom down deeper, as many inches as he could physically fit, relaxing his throat and inviting him in. Tom’s voice broke first, then the tension in him. The moment he hit the deck, everything closed down, lost to the heat that flooded into him and out of him.

The next thing he could really be certain of was a two beat tune of his ass hitting the tile then the back of his head hitting the wall. Maverick was still on his knees, under the spray now too without Tom to be his umbrella. He was grinning, catching the white that had spilled out of the corners of his mouth, lapping it off his fingers, cat like.

“See? Wasn’t that more fun than fighting?” he hummed, diamond droplets in his hair and on those enormous eyelashes.

He looked too beautiful for words.

Tom realised he hadn’t replied for too long, voice breaking as he tried to, “Does that mean we’re buddies now?”

“Fuck no,” Maverick’s eyes glittered, reflecting the falling water with amusement, “I didn’t say all that shit wasn’t fun. Just that this is more fun. God, I’ve been waiting ages to see if you’d punch me in the jaw or fuck me and I’m so glad you went this way, Ice.”

“Yeah, I was waiting to see how things would shake out too,” Tom shifted so he was more comfortable, resting his arms on his knees, “But, technically, I haven’t.”

“Haven’t what?” Maverick paused, folding his legs underneath himself.

“Fucked you. Your place or mine?” Tom felt the corners of his mouth lift.

Maverick brightened so easily, so simply, it was hard to look at. Like flying right into the sun.

“Thought you said this wasn’t going to work, Ice?”

Tom leaned forward, until their lips were brushing, a promise of the kiss he was going to give him.

“Who cares? Like you said, it’s fun.”

Tom knew what a bad idea this was. He knew exactly the size and shape of the pain that was waiting for him on the horizon of it all, how it would hit him with the force of a truck, how he’d probably never be able to run fast enough to get ahead of it.

But Tom couldn’t make himself care. He was more than happy to have Pete Mitchell be his problem.

#top gun #tg86 #icemav #iceman #tom kazansky #maverick #pete mitchell #smut #please reblog and comment!

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changenbirthenstein · 6 months

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Passing Grade

(TRANSFORMATION WARNING: Girl into Mermaid)

“What do you mean FAILING?!” I exclaimed, astonished.

If I was honest with myself, science had never really been my best topic. It had always seemed really cool, I’d WANTED to be good at it, but… even though I felt like I understood a lot of the classwork, I just couldn’t seem to do well on a single test, only getting a D at the highest.

Something always seemed odd with my papers, though. I could SWEAR I was getting the answers correct, but they always proved to be wildly off the mark, with no real explanation ever being given as to why it was wrong, or how I could have done better. I did well enough on in-class labs, but for some reason anything I had to turn in got totally panned.

I would have run it passed my classmates, but… well, I was somewhat isolated from most of my peers. I think it was because of my passion for studying aquatic life. There was so much fascinating life, in lakes and oceans, more than we had ever seen. So vastly different from everything that we knew on land, their experiences must be so different we couldn’t even hope to understand them.

But if I started talking about my interests, (and I didn’t have many beyond that…)I started getting excitable, talking too quickly for anyone to understand, I’d start getting flushed and breathless, and… everyone always starts laughing at me. So I stopped trying, stopped making the effort to make friends, immersing myself in my interests.

It was at times like this I regretted accepting my isolation. I couldn’t accept this grade, it would ruin everything. So I went to my teacher. Asked her what the problem was, if there was some way I could make up the grade. A smile so eager and vindictive met me that I was certain that I hadn’t failed for any honest reason, and this woman was entirely certain nobody would care if I told on them.

But what could I do? Just let myself fail? Even if I told my parents, or even the cops, they don’t have the power to change my grade. So, that weekend, I was in a sterile lab, naked and shivering, as all manner of unknown substances were injected into me, as my science teacher muttered incessantly. I could only assume it was her native language or something, whatever it was it definitely wasn’t English.

After it was over, I asked what, exactly, I was supposed to do. “Just let it all work its magic.” was the reply I got. “I’ll know if it worked by the end of the week. I’ll have those grades fixed for you by the time you come in Monday.”

Over the next week, I began to feel ill. Everything felt… wrong. At some point every part of me ached or felt out of sorts, and I began to get a strange, bloated feeling deep inside. That Friday, I began to get cramps, like I was having my period but… worse. Much worse.

I sat in science, biting my lip to stay silent as the pressure mounted and the squeezing, gripping pains mounted. Within minutes the woman who had forced me to help with her experiment had ordered quiet reading time, and called me out into the hall. Without a word, the science teacher gripped my arm, marching me through the school toward the pools.

Swimming season hadn’t begun, but there was always the chance some random people could walk through, as the pools were often used as shortcuts. Tugging me into the locker rooms, the wild-eyed scientist told me to strip, pulling out a two-piece bikini and helping me change into it.

It wouldn’t be the last time I felt exposed, humiliated, alarmed, or even the last time I would undergo an unexpected change before the day was over.

The cramps were getting so bad that I could barely stand when they came, and I could feel something pressing down impossibly hard. “It’s ok, all according to plan…” the manipulative scientist murmured soothingly, or at least in a manner she thought was soothing. Helping me stagger along as I panted, sweat running down my face, we neared the edge of the water.

Just before I reached the strangely inviting liquid, I let out a pained cry, another crushing pain overwhelming me. I felt something inside me give way, and suddenly a thick green goo began to run from between my legs, soaking my bikini and dripping down my thighs as I let out an agonized moan.

“What’s happening to me? I f-feel something…. Inside…” I begged, desperate to know what was going on, confused and scared as a bitter, salty scent began to permeate the air, the gooey substance oozing from my gender the source. “It’s… well, I didn’t want to upset you, but…” the woman who did this to me paused, taking a breath and gathering her thoughts as she started to help me into the pool.

“It’s… eggs. If I did this properly, if everything is working… You should have been gestating fish eggs. Or, well… a fish-like creature. It’s really quite fascinating, and knowing you I knew you would be thrilled to help, I just had to-“ “Ohhh there’s so much pressure!” I cried, as another contraction held me tight.

My cheeks burned with humiliation, tears welling in my eyes as I felt the need to bear down mounting. That explanation… all of this… I was pregnant. Even if my belly wasn’t very big, there was life inside me. I was here, in a bikini, about to give birth, with only this terrible woman to help. And worse, I was laying fish eggs. This was so much worse than I ever could have imagined, so much more shameful. I felt like I’d been sexually assaulted, my ability to create life being twisted to do something so abnormal, to give the gift of life to a bunch of animal babies.

I hung from the edge of the pool, resting in the shallow end, the water helping me feel lighter, making the contractions easier to deal with, even if they weren’t any less painful. “Just do what comes natural… you’re a girl, you were made to do this. And it’s not even like they’re proper babies… just eggs.” I opened my mouth to offer a scathing, bitter reply, only to let out a terrified cry as the first of my unwanted, inhuman children began to be born.

“It’s ok, just let them come… there’s nothing you can do to stop it now…” the deranged science teacher soothingly murmured, rubbing my back as my belly spasmed, the pressure within me spiking and the sensation of something pressing down on my cervix intensified. “I don’t want to do this, it huuurts!” I sobbed, the intensity of the sensations making this all the worse.

My teacher ignored that, instead telling me the one thing I wanted to hear least in the world. “Push. Push your babies out, come on, you can do it mommy…” Uttering another defeated groan, I held tight to the sides of the pool and bore down reflexively, opening my legs wide and feeling the first slimy egg slipping down my birth canal.

As it moved, a strange energy began to course through me. I’d felt it before, but nowhere close to this degree. “Something’s wrong! It… Nnngh… It’s my l-legs they’re… ahn!” “Shhh, don’t focus on that…” the treacherous woman cooed, continuing to run fingers along my spine. “The eggs. They need to be laid, for you AND for me. Everything else is secondary to that…”

I wanted more than anything to defy my teacher’s wishes, but the contractions wouldn’t stop, and my instincts left no room for argument. I felt my swollen feminine lips starting to bulge, the soft, goo-coated egg resting just behind my opening. My toes were curling, my legs were cramping, my knees and thighs burned and throbbed fiercely.

It was getting harder to hold my legs open, like somehow I couldn’t quite bend them as far as I used to be able to. My skin was burning and itching, and I could swear it looked like an odd rash was starting to appear beneath the water, spreading slowly over my flesh.

Then, once more, it was time to focus on laying the fish eggs that my professor had tricked me into gestating. I whimpered, feeling the lips of my girlhood bulging further, before slowly, painfully opening around the sticky, slimy membrane that made up my unwanted child’s shell.

My sensitive gender was sliding along my swim bottom, the sensation tingling up into my life-filled womb. It was a small pleasure in a world that felt tainted in every other way.

I could feel the fabric straining against my emerging offspring, pushing it back in as I stopped to rest. I had been so overwhelmed by my waters breaking, the sensations of labor and birth, I had completely forgotten to remove my bottoms. My cheeks burned as I realized I was going to lay this awful egg right into my clothing. But even as that sensation assaulted me, I was once more aware of the terrible wrongness coursing through my form, especially from the waist down.

My legs kept drifting closer together, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t force them apart. My feet were throbbing, cramping, my toes feeling like they weren’t just curling but… almost folding into my feet.

It was time to push, as the squeezing pain in my womb told me. I threw my head back, giving my all to getting this fish egg OUT of me. It was only the first of many, I could already feel the next one trying to squeeze through my cervix, but the one crowning was my main focus.

It slid forward as I struggled, my bottoms pressing further away from my body, the egg just firm enough to tug at the non-elastic fabric. And then… It was out. More greenish goo spurted from my sex and floated into the water, and my teacher hurriedly tugged at the string holding my bikini bottom in place, letting the egg float free as my clothes fell away, leaving me embarrassingly exposed.

“Hey, I wanted those, I don’t want anyone to see me…” I began, before realizing I was being ignored. The woman who tricked me into this was staring into the water, eyes latched on the small, luminescent ovum floating through the pool. Tears swam in her eyes. “I’ve done it… I’ve really done it… A real mermaid egg… I brought them back…”

“Wait…” I replied, stunned. “A mermaid? Like from the fairytales and stuff? That’s UNGH! Oh god the n-next one… nnnmmmph…” I went back to pushing, everything from my belly down pulsing with intense pain. Whatever was happening to my legs was getting worse, the weird rash looked like it was slowly spreading, and even my teenage slit was throbbing, feeling off. I tried to spread my toes as I pushed this time, hoping it would reduce the tight ache in my feet, but found I couldn’t. Indeed, they just seemed to curl tighter, become harder to move.

“Yes… a mermaid, just like the ones you’re thinking of. You’re not just carrying fish eggs dear, I’m using your body to form the eggs of human and fish DNA combined in a blend of science and something a touch less concrete. Just a dash of magic. I know, it’s hard to believe, but what else could have provided such perfect, flawless results?!”

This didn’t feel perfect and flawless. In fact, the more I thought about it… I looked down again, gasping in air after my latest birthing pain. That rash… the fact my legs were drifting closer together… And, now that I was looking down… my vagina. I could see it more easily that I should have been able to. Like it was shifting, moving up. I reached a hand down to my thigh, and gasped in horror.

I could feel them, under my flesh. The reason for the bizarre pattern appearing. Scales, resting just under my skin. And as once more I began to push, I could feel them pressing forward, starting to cut through their way out, little barely noticeable trails of crimson drifting from the wounds that formed as the textured coating at last started to make itself visible.

“No… nono, I’m a human girl, I don’t want this… please, do something, I don’t want to be a mermaid!” Panic built in my chest. I had to push again, but as I gave in to my feminine instincts I could feel the sensations within my legs intensifying. Pushing the mer-folk eggs from my body was causing the transformation to progress, but… there was no resisting, no denying my labor.

At this rate, I would be fully transformed in a matter of minutes.

“Help, please, I’m changing it huuurts…” I pleaded, feeling the next egg bulging as my vagina continued dragging along my body, gradually slipping forward and up. “You… oh my… you are, aren’t you?” my teacher asked excitedly, gently touching my trembling thighs as I struggled to pull them apart. “The magic part of the injections must be tampering with your DNA, making you a better host for them… Oh this is positively WONDERFUL!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “N-no! It’s not wonderful, it’s horrible and I don’t want it and OHHH IT HUUURTS!!!” Another labor cramp, another instinctual push, and even as I tried to open my legs wide, they continued inching closer together, until at last they touched.

Immediately, the muscles began to spasm and burn, unbearable cramps racing through my legs as intense heat flared where the skin was touching. The malicious woman let out an excited gasp as she saw what was happening as I trembled at the terrible sensation. “I can hardly believe it… you’re going to become… oh my word… This is fantastic!”

As the manipulative educator excitedly noted my changes in a notebook withdrawn from a pocket, tears welled up in my eyes, escaping as I endured the awful sensations of my forced birth mingling with my changes. My thighs pressed harder against one another, fusing painfully as my toes curled impossibly hard, my feet flaring up as they started to shrink away.

Meanwhile, my feminine lips throbbed as the next egg came to a full crown. I could feel my girlhood sliding along my body, twitching and pulsing as it changed form. I looked down as my clit started to ache fiercely. My gender was losing definition as it moved, my labia thinning, and my sensitive nub flaring up as it shrank away. I threw my head back, screaming as my molten bead flared, my nerves letting out potent distress signals before dissolving into nothing, my poor pleasure button vanishing entirely.

I looked down once more to see that my formerly human gender had become a nearly invisible slit on the front of my groin, only visible because it was bulging forward slightly, another egg ready to begin crowning. As I struggled to process such an intimate part of me having disappeared, my vagina having become a fish-like cloaca, the rest of my body continued to eagerly take on its new form without slowing.

I once more had to push, more scales pressing from my skin as my teacher “oooh”-d and “ahhh”-d my condition. I could feel my bones straining, buckling, snapping and then dissolving away as my feet continued to shrink and fold upon themselves, my lower legs fusing as well. My feminine opening had become so much smaller, and pushing out the mer-folk eggs was much more difficult that it had been moments ago. I had to arch my back, holding the sides of the pool tight in order to open myself wider, now unable to spread my legs to help my labor along.

Little green plates were covering most of what used to be my legs, now looking more like an almost shapeless mass below my waist. Around my aching slit were softer, lighter colored scales, almost like it was my underbelly or something. With a final terrible stab of pain the remains of my feet finished withdrawing into my tail, and the last few gaps filled out with searing heat.

I could feel it now. I was so close to being done. The knowledge terrified me. Somehow, I knew once the changes finished… that was it. There was no going back. I would be a mermaid for the rest of my life, never to walk or run or open myself for a cute boy or… I sobbed, wanting the pain to end, but knowing once it did my fate would be sealed.

Another potent contraction forced me to throw my head back, crying out as I pushed, another strange egg popping from my new gender ax two terrible points of pressure blossomed into existence. Deep down, I knew what it was. Scales covered my tail, my vagina had been changed into a cloacha, there was only one more detail I could think of that I was missing.

I bore down, shamefully giving in to my instincts, rewarded with another squishy object starting to crown, and the feeling of my tailfin starting to push out. I looked down, seeing the thin substance unfurling like some sort of sped-up footage of a flower. The nerves flared to life inside my fin as it spread open, swishing gracefully through the water as I reflexively began to hold myself in place with graceful swishing of my new inhuman limb.

It was over. I could feel it. I had a tail now, something so many little girls had longed for, that I had longed for, wanting to swim with the fish I had always been so passionate about. I would spend the rest of my life like this, a freak of nature, only able to exist in the water. I was thankful that I at least could still breathe, and that the chlorine in the pool wasn’t toxic to me like it was to a lot of other fish.

I was still dripping with sweat, now a bit thicker and stickier than it used to be, coating my skin slightly as another gripping cramp raced through me. I may have finished becoming a mermaid, but there were still eggs in my tainted womb that needed pushing out.

Then, the bell rang. Panic flared through the terrible woman’s eyes, and she quickly began scooping up eggs and my disgusting amniotic fluid, snapping some pictures on her phone and inching toward the door. “Wh… ngh… where are you going?! You can’t l-leave me here like thIIISSS OHHH!” I once more had to give into the need to give birth, but could still hear the manipulative fiend utter a hurried “yes, well… you know… you are a MARVEL of science, but… I didn’t realize the time, and I didn’t expect you to change like this… I simply couldn’t bring you with me, too much noise, too clumsy… Don’t worry, people use this place as a shortcut all the time. Someone will find you, I’m sure. I… uhm… I just have to… go…”

With that, I heard running steps, and the door closing. I bellowed in effort and defeat, as I heard more footsteps from the other side.

They came in as another egg crowned. Everyone recognized me, and then they saw my new horrible tail, saw the child I was trying to deliver, the green liquid seeping from my laboring slit. I was babbling in a shamed panic, begging someone to get help, to get these eggs out, to somehow bring my legs back. Then, only to please, please look away as I arched my tail, sobbing that they not watch as, slowly, painfully, my inhuman gender parted with another soft fish egg.

I felt the need to keep going, the contractions overlapping as the last internal changes cemented themselves within me. I spasmed as the ovum popped out of my feminine opening, only to feel another already opening me. And another. And another. End to end, a stream of newborn mer-people streaming from my corrupted, genetically altered womb as all of my former classmates watched. Some frozen in shock, others laughing and jeering, some seemingly jealous, and a few squirming, clearly excited at what was unfolding before them.

Before any teachers showed up, hundreds of students were gathered around, watching their formerly human classmate laying egg after egg and begging for help.

My life as a human was over. I was a freak, my dreams ruined, with no idea how I was even going to live from here on, let alone how I could be happy.

#transformation #tf #egg laying #girl ti mermaid

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summercourtship · 9 months

Text

stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter five: sanity in the honeymoon phase [part I]

masterpost | ao3 link

jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual content (oral sex fem receiving, PIV sex- JONATHAN AND READER HAVE SEX IN THIS ONE) | word count: 6011 words

DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.

chapter one

Somehow, the stars were out tonight, though only a few were able to beam brighter than the light pollution and smog. Perhaps they were actually distant planets, but you’d never learned how to tell the difference. No matter what they were, they looked so far away from where you stood on the sidewalk. Not at all like how they’d seemed to glitter on the night of the gala. No, these were just barely pinpricks of light, cold as they blinked down at you like they were watchful eyes, the rare spectators of Gotham. The moon was a cruel smile, grinning down at you like it was privy to something you had yet to find out about.

You scowled up at them before continuing on your walk. It was the rare night where you weren’t even walking home from work but instead trekking back from Gotham University’s library. You rarely did any of your work there but you’d been feeling pretty productive earlier that day and had little else going on, so you made the journey over. And you were happy to say that you got some good writing done- you did have other classwork to worry about, classes that had nothing to do with Dr. Jonathan Crane. Who, aside from your few conversations after his class, you hadn’t really interacted with since he took you home a few nights ago, though this time it was your own embarrassment that kept you from reaching out to him.

Needless to say, you were tired but in a good mood. The library was always practically empty, save for the cafe on the first floor and the few project rooms that were always booked by groups of people taking much more intensive classes than you ever seemed to take. Tonight had been no different- only a few students were in the designated quiet areas, and even then, two of them were just using the study stall to nap.

It was a productive night but now all you wanted to do was get back into your apartment and sleep.

You passed by a wide alleyway, the kind that led to a parking lot for the buildings on the street, stopping briefly to change the song playing in the one earbud hanging from your ear. From behind your phone screen, you caught the reflection of the moon in a puddle before you frowned at your shadow in the tiny sliver of light. As you finally found the song your brain was itching to hear, the hair on your arms stood on end, goosebumps rising over your skin as your world narrowed into a pinprick moment of focus.

You were being watched.

You had stopped by the mouth of the alleyway, peering into its dark depths as you prayed to whoever might be listening that you were just imagining the sensation of eyes crawling over your body, or that it was at least a harmless hermit perched in the alleyway for the night. But the longer the sensation continued, the more you doubted it was just a homeless person looking at you. You pulled the earbud from your ear, managing to barely catch it before it fell into the puddle, the cord swinging from your phone which was gripped in your now limp hand.

Keep it moving, your brain whispered, trying to move your legs away from the alley, you shouldn’t have stopped here. You shouldn’t even be out at this time of night, in this part of town. You know this.

But, though you were certainly frightened and your heart was threatening to break out of you with how aggressively it was beating in your chest, your curiosity was piqued, a rare surge of recklessness overtaking you as you decided to wait and see what would happen.

And for a moment, it seemed like nothing would. You were about to sigh and continue on your walk, ready to blame the events on a random bout of anxiety (which you had noticed were becoming more frequent but just chalked it up to stress from the semester), when there was a flicker of movement in the darkness.

A street lamp in the alleyway flickered on for a brief moment like a flash of lightning and you saw it, standing amongst the dumpsters and fire escapes, facing you. It’s eyes watching you.

No, not it. His.

The Scarecrow.

Gasping, you staggered backwards, eyes glued on the now dark void where you had seen him. The darkness became your enemy. Because now you couldn’t see him and instead could only imagine him slowly prowling closer to you. Taking calculated steps your way, able to see you in the light from the street that didn’t reach his position in the alley. He was at an advantage and you were a deer in the headlights. Frozen, fear rooting your feet to the cracked concrete beneath you.

But then the streetlamp flickered on once again and he was gone, his absence releasing you from whatever spell had kept you glued to the sidewalk. You didn’t think about what you did next, just spun on your heel and ran, rushing to the next corner as you forced deep breaths into your lungs.

Hands shaking, you pressed the button to change the crossing signal, bringing your phone close to your face.

Okay. So you just had an encounter with Gotham’s newest anonymous criminal... What do you do next? You’re a bit surprised that there wasn’t a handy online guide already for this kind of thing, but you were sadly on your own here.

But if there had been a friendly guide to villain encounters, you’re sure the first piece of advice would be to call the police but you hesitated.

The police certainly didn’t need to hear about you seeing him.

You were acutely aware of how often you encountered events that warranted a police presence, even if they rarely showed up or were even called.

Next option would be to… tell Batman? No, that’s not right. Firstly, you had no way to contact him. But more importantly, you didn’t even want Batman to show up now. You weren’t hurt, just frightened and more importantly you had someone you could call, someone to take this tension from your shoulders and offer you comfort. (Maybe, you think as you shakily dial your phone, you don't need Batman anymore. He’d saved you enough times already.)

Jonathan picked up on the third ring and you had to stutter out a quick, stilted greeting before you stopped, trying to figure out how to tell him exactly what just happened to you. But then the words just tumbled out, not refrained and barely audible over the city’s nightlife in the background.

“I saw him.”

He’s quiet but you know he’s listening, that he’d been able to hear what you’d said. That he was just waiting for you to continue, giving you the time you needed to collect your racing thoughts. Finally, you swallowed the lump of fear in your throat and whispered into the phone.

“The… Scarecrow.” In daylight, you might’ve laughed at how ridiculous it sounded coming from your mouth. But here, pressed against a corner street lamp as you waited for the crossing signal to change, the lamp flickering above you like a firefly in a jar, the title sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

You knew nothing about the masked man. But now, after seeing him and the effect he was able to have, you figured that he relished in the fear that he caused, that that was why he took the moniker he did.

Jonathan was quiet for a moment, and you tried to picture him in his apartment, or his office. Sitting at his desk, working his jaw as he did when he was trying to figure out what to say next.

“…did it frighten you?”

“Yes. But… I don’t know.” You almost chuckle in the silence that hangs between you, trying to figure out how to put into words the gut feeling you had. You worried your lip as you debated expressing your next thoughts, before deciding that it was important for Jonathan to hear, even if he ended up deciding that it made you insane to think. “I didn’t think he was going to hurt me, it didn’t feel like it.”

You can feel the question hanging in the air, the question that you would’ve asked someone if they’d just said that to you. How did you know?

But you didn’t know. You were just basing your assumption off of a brief gut instinct and the fact that he didn’t hurt you even though he certainly had ample opportunity in the moment where you had been frozen and waiting.

“Where are you?”

“I’m almost back at my apartment.” A bit of a lie. You were still at least seven blocks away, the crossing signals taking longer than usual due to the nighttime traffic. “I was studying at the library earlier.”

“I’ll come over.”

“For what?” You hadn’t even thought about the implication of him offering to come over when you asked. The idea of Jonathan in your apartment was so foreign it hadn’t even entered your mind. Sure, you’d had the odd fantasy of him there but those tended to be focused in other areas, not centered around a casual visit.

“If you don’t want someone with you right now-”

“No, I do!” You practically leapt into the street as the signal finally changed, cutting Jonathan off as you spoke. You wondered if he made the annoyed face he always did when he was interrupted. “Sorry, I’m just… frazzled over this, I guess.”

“I would expect nothing else right now.” You imagined he smiled when he said it, something comforting. You’ve never seen this imagined smile on his face but you liked to think you could figure out what it would look like if you really focused on it. “I’ll leave here in a minute to head down.”

If you had been listening closely to his side of the conversation, you would’ve noticed the typical city and traffic noises in the background, noises that indicated he was already outside during your conversation and not in his apartment or office. But you were barely listening to what he was saying, unable to focus on any sensory input for more than a few seconds at a time. Your nerves were frayed, your mind keyed up and over sensitive.

“Okay, cool. That’s cool. I’ll see you there.”

Slowly removing your phone from your ear, you pressed the button to hang up.

The same feeling from the alley, which had disappeared with the Scarecrow, had returned a few minutes after. The rest of your walk home was full of you constantly glancing behind yourself to ensure you weren’t being followed, unable to shake the feeling of predatory eyes on your body.

As you turned around a corner, a fat drop of water hit your cheek, signaling that the sky had, ultimately, decided it wanted to rain. One after the other, raindrops hit you and the ground, ensuring that by the time you got back to your apartment, you and your clothes were soaking wet, leaving puddles behind you as you trudged up the stairs.

Slamming your door behind you, you rushed into your room to change from your drenched clothes into comfortable, dry ones. The wet ones were thrown into your hamper with a squelch that you ignored as you tried to change as quickly as possible. You hadn’t forgotten that Jonathan was coming over and you didn’t want to be caught with your pants down.

With your new clothes on you walked into the living area, shaking your head and sighing as water droplets flew everywhere, the faint sound of them hitting random papers and the floor loud in the otherwise silent room. You were looking around, trying to figure out if you could somehow clean up your space quickly when a loud knock startled you back to the present moment.

Wrenching open the door like it weighed a ton, you stared at the man in front of you. Jonathan was still dressed like he did every weekday, minus his tie and jacket, leaving him with just his dress shirt on his torso, the sleeves rolled to his elbows exposing his forearms to your gaze. You noticed, then, that his shirt and pants were damp from the rain but his hair was bone dry.

You decided not to comment on it.

“Hi.” Your hands were still shaking but your voice was steady.

“Hello.”

“Thanks for coming over, you really didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” He took a step towards you, leaning against your doorframe, his arm placed over his head. You were crowded backwards against the door to your own apartment, which was sitting open behind you.

With a shaky breath, you stepped back, finally allowing him into your sanctuary and out of your personal bubble. You closed the door behind him, locking and sliding the deadbolt before tugging on the doorknob to make sure it was actually secure. The locks may be shitty, but you’d read somewhere that the smallest barrier can sometimes stop an attacker. You’re not sure how applicable it is here (it seemed to apply more to robbers and opportunistic killers). And what you were afraid of was someone following you and watching you and waiting until you fell asleep to break into your apartment specifically, but it was all you could do.

Lock and unlock and lock it again.

Satisfied that your door was as secure as it was going to get, you turned to look at Dr. Crane, who was watching your routine with the locks.

“You can replace the locks if you’re so nervous about them.” The unspoken I could help you hung in the air.

“That’s okay, the door is so shitty someone could easily kick it in.” Your attempt at nonchalance falls flat, your nerves still shot from earlier. It’s all you can do to keep your voice from wavering.

Jonathan nodded, turning to examine your apartment. And suddenly, you were hyper aware of everything you’d grown numb to over the two and a half years you’d been living there. The creaks in the floors, the cracks in the walls. The aforementioned shitty door. The way moisture had stained your windows and how the lights above your oven flickered ominously like they belonged in an old gas station. At least you decided to put away your clothes from your last load of laundry so they were no longer in a pile by the couch, thrown there to wait for folding. But there were plenty of other piles of clutter, papers and books and trinkets you had nowhere else to put. The odd card, too sentimental for you to throw out even though you never looked at them again after you received them.

“Um, so I was thinking I could make some… soup? Stew?” You move to the stovetop oven to avoid sitting in the awkward moment for any longer. “Tea?” You spin around, facing him again in your frantic quest to figure out an acceptable nourishment to offer him. “Would you like tea? I can make tea.”

“Alright.” He leaned against the counter, his tongue resting on his teeth as he observed you floundering in your natural environment.

“Great.” It’s more than the Batman ever stayed for. But mostly, you were grateful that he was letting you do this to distract yourself from the other events of the night. You faced the stove again and turned the knob for your designated kettle burner, smile fading when the oven simply click-click-clicked and the gas didn't light.

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath, deciding to try again and sighing when the result is the same. Nothing. “Well, fuck- sorry. I guess the oven’s out of commission for the moment.”

You’re occupied with trying to figure out why your gas isn’t working- did you forget to pay that bill this month?- that you almost miss what Jonathan says.

“I’ll order take-out.”

It took a moment for the words to sink into your brain, and when they did you spun towards him.

“No, you don’t have to-”

“Please. You’ve had a rough night, let me do this for you.”

Warily, you removed your hand from the oven knob. He does this a lot, you’ve realized. Insisting that you allow him to do things for you, to relinquish a fraction of your power to him. But he was right. It had been a rough night, and now that he mentioned it, you did have a hankering for anything but what was in your cabinets.

“What food are you thinking?”

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting at your cluttered kitchen table, Chinese take-out containers haphazardly scattered among the books and folders, placed on-top of and in-between the piles. Jonathan had looked like he was going to suggest cleaning the table off but seemed to realize that there were no other places for all that junk to go so he let it slide, instead helping you place the food around the clutter.

“I don’t know why these things keep happening to me.” You stabbed a piece of chicken with your fork, staring at it for a few seconds before popping it into your mouth.

“Like what?” Jonathan wasn’t eating. To be fair, you had headed out of the library at a time of night where most people were well into their first hour of sleep. He probably just wasn’t hungry at this time of night (though, now that you think of it, he rarely ate around you) and you, having just thought you were maybe going to die, were peckish.

“First it was the Riddler shit, you know. The funeral, Gotham Square Garden. I was there for both of them. Then I’m mugged. Then held hostage at the gala. Then this… it’s just-” you sighed, running a hand over your eyes- “-why has Gotham decided that I’m a victim?” You cut yourself off before you added why can’t I be a nobody like everyone else? Why have I been in harm’s way so often that Gotham’s premiere vigilante recognizes my face from saving me multiple times?

“Everything you just said happened within a year and a half. Gotham’s dangerous, you know this.” He smiled, in a way you were sure was meant to be reassuringly. But it fell flat, instead coming across as condescending. “Maybe you’re just unlucky.”

“Unlucky.” You repeated, stabbing another chicken slice, gesturing at him with your fork, “I’m starting to not believe in luck, I think this-” You swirled your fork around you, meaning everything that you had mentioned before, “-means something.”

“But what? If it means something, what does it mean?” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. You were well aware that he was indulging you, that he probably thought you just needed to get some sleep.

“That-” You put your fork down, leaning back in your chair, “-is something I need to figure out.”

You neglected to mention who was the connecting string between it all, with the exception of your Scarecrow encounter. Batman connected every event you’d witnessed or been victim of, either by design, like the Riddler’s crimes, or just by the fact that he was there when it happened, like the muggings.

“Some sort of destiny? That’s what you’re talking about?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, tilting your head at the tone his voice had taken.

“Are you talking to me right now as a psychiatrist or as my….” You trailed off, realizing you had no idea how you should refer to Jonathan. Boyfriend sounded stupid and too mundane and juvenile for a man like him. Lover was inaccurate, at least for the present moment. Friend was downplaying the fact that you had made-out with the man twice in the past week. Professor was… problematic, considering everything else. “Colleague.”

At least it was better than calling him your crush.

“Gotham has a way of making people feel more important than they are.”

“So I’m not important?”

“Not in the grand scheme of the universe, no.”

It shouldn’t sting. It was the truth, a fact of life. You weren’t important, especially not to a city like Gotham.

You stood up, blinking quickly to hide the fact that maybe some tears had sprung into your eyes. Mentally, you write them off as being a release from the stress of the night, not from his comment.

“Hey.” He stood up, crossing to you and grabbing your arms, holding you in front of him like you were a fragile bird that he’d grabbed from a cage. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just see people every day who think that their role in this city was bigger than it needed to be. I don’t want you to get wound up and do something reckless from assigning meaning to random events.”

“Right.” You softened against his grip, willing yourself to calm down.

“Let’s talk about something else, then?” He sat you back down, his hands lingering on your shoulders, moving to stand next to you, leaning against the table. You looked up at him as you absentmindedly picked at your thumb nail, not convinced of what he had tried to tell you but unwilling to argue about it.

But even though he suggested speaking about something different, he didn’t start up a new conversation. You sat in a tense silence before you spoke up.

“It’s weird.” The words escaped from your mouth. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times before trying again. “Having you here, I mean. My professor is in my apartment.”

He didn’t respond, obviously waiting for you to continue.

“I mean, I’ve thought about it before but it never seemed right-“

“You’ve thought about me in your apartment?”

“I-” You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Yeah, I have.”

For all the ways that you found to dance around topics when talking with him, it felt good to just be open and honest for once. You had nothing to lose, here. You already knew that he reciprocated your desire, that he knew exactly what you wanted from him. For once, you had no shame about admitting to him that you thought about him in that very specific way.

He gave you that wry, knowing smile that he had been throwing your way more and more often lately.

“And what was I doing in your apartment in these… imaginings?”

Quietly, you rose from your seat, trying to hide your nervous swallow by ducking your head against his chest.

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

With a gentle hand, he tipped your chin upwards to look at him.

You hadn’t kissed him since that night in his apartment, too afraid that the same anxiety you’d felt then would overcome you again. That, maybe, you weren’t meant to be kissed or touched after all.

But your kiss this time held none of those overwhelming feelings of dread. Even when Jonathan’s hands moved from your hips to your breasts, similar to how he had previously, all you could feel was the heavy pangs of desire building in your core. You pressed yourself against him, opening your mouth against his and gasping in his air.

His hands moved behind you, sliding down your body to your ass. Like the night of the gala, he lifted you up, but instead of placing you back on the table behind you (which was good because there was no room for you to sit comfortably on it) he began to carry you through your apartment. You wrapped your legs around his middle, keeping your arms around his neck and shoulders to steady yourself as he moved the two of you through your apartment.

Kicking open your bedroom door, he placed you down on your bed, keeping his lips on your own through the entire time. You pulled away from him for a breath, a string of saliva connecting your lips to each other after you parted.

“How did you know where my bedroom was?” Your voice was a whisper, deepened with lust. He kissed you again, quick, before answering.

“Your apartment isn’t that big.” He matched your tone, his voice soft. But you heard the hint of condescension laced through what he said but decided in that moment that you couldn’t care less. You would let him be condescending for the rest of your life if it meant you were able to keep his lips and hands on you like this.

His fingers danced around the hem of your jeans, toying with the button before undoing it swiftly. He didn’t ask you if you were okay with this, but it was another thing you brushed aside in favor of keeping his hands on you. Lifting your hips to aid him, he rolled the fabric down yours legs, moving with it to kneel at your feet. With your jeans tossed aside you were vulnerable to his hungry gaze, practically ravenous as his eyes swept up your bare legs to your underwear, to where your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked down, meeting his eyes as you did. Silently, you observed how he held your right leg in his hands, gazing up at you with such reverence that you should’ve had a halo. His own eyes were shrouded in darkness, only a few streams of light from the street coming in through the window. It was barely enough to illuminate the room, let alone show you all the small expressions that flitted across his face at any given moment. He was very good at hiding them, but you were becoming very good at reading them.

Still, you wished in that moment, more than any other moment you’d had before, that you could read his mind. Learn the truth for his behavior after the gala- because you still didn’t quite believe his story about being embarrassed. Find out what he wanted from you- was he going to fuck you right now and then ignore you for the rest of the semester? Was he going to string you along until summer and then leave you stranded? Or did he plan on actually romancing you, did he actually care about you? Was this just a physical attraction or did he like you?

His soft voice from between your legs broke you out of your downward spiral or uncertainty. You blinked down at him, shifting from the sudden pressure of his gaze.

“What are you thinking about?”

You debated whether you should tell him the truth or not. But you decided to bite the bullet and ask him, even though it might ruin the moment and make him leave.

“If I let you do… this with me, what happens next?”

He cocked his head to the side, like he didn’t know exactly what you were talking about. You sighed, resisting the urge to cross your legs, to block him out with your insecurities.

“Are you going to ignore me after you get what you want?”

“And what is it that you think I want?”

You paused, furrowing your eyebrows. He was kneeling between your naked legs, surely he meant to get lucky, or some variation of a similar vulgar expression?

“I didn’t come here to fuck you. You’ve had a stressful, scary night,” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, slowly traveling upwards until he reached your underwear, to the crease where your legs met your torso. “Let me help you forget.”

You think you forgot to respond.

If you did, it was probably incomprehensible because your sole intent was now watching as he hooked his fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear, as he began slowly dragging the fabric down your thighs, over your knees, and finally off of your body. They were tossed in the same direction as your jeans had been and were almost immediately forgotten about by both of you.

You stared at your discarded clothes, trying to ignore your racing heart, trying to hope it wasn’t loud enough that he could hear it, that it wasn’t so powerful that he could feel the reverberations against his fingertips on your hips.

With a gentle push, he spread your legs, and when you looked down you saw him smirking up at you, the blue of his eyes a thin ring around his pupil.

“I’ll help you forget.”

You started to respond but were cut off with a sharp gasp that escaped from your mouth as he licked a thin stripe up your cunt, his tongue hot against you. He tapped the muscle against your clit before he began eating you out in earnest, his mouth seemingly desperate to devour your essence whole.

Broken noises were leaving your mouth without you even realizing it, your chest heaving with how quickly you were gasping and trying to breath amidst the barrage of sensations- new sensations- that you were experiencing. Maybe you’d had a tangle or two in years past, but quick, meaningless fucks were nothing compared to this.

With each new pass over your clit, you twitched, your legs instinctively trying to close around his head. But he held your thighs apart with his hands, his grip strong enough that you knew you’d have bruises coloring your skin in the morning.

Holding you open for him, not allowing you to hide yourself.

Then he pressed a finger against your opening- you hadn’t even noticed him moving his hand off of your thigh- barely penetrating you, toying with your skin and gathering the combined wetness of your cunt and his mouth on his finger.

“So wet,” He murmured, muffled in between your legs, the vibrations of his voice against you sending a shock of pleasure up your spine. He flicked your clit with his tongue before bringing it into his mouth and sucking. With a cry, you clutched his feather-like hair in your fingers, drawing him closer to your core. His only response was to hum again- resulting in another sharp moan- and ramp up his enthusiasm, his finger back to toying with your entrance.

“Please,” You were cognizant of your babbling, though you’re not sure when your thoughts turned into spoken words. “Please, god, I need-”

You’re not even sure what exactly you were begging for, your mind empty except with thoughts for more, but he seemed to understand what you wanted and surfaced from between your legs for a moment to speak before diving back in, his mouth wet and glistening from his enthusiastic efforts.

“Go on.”

Then, he brought your clit into his mouth and with a final brush of his knuckle against your opening, you gasped, your head thrusting itself backwards against your bed. You were familiar with the sensation of your impending orgasm but this was so much more potent, so much more. With a final shuddering inhale, your body arched in on itself, your cunt clenching around nothing but the whisper of Jonathan’s knuckle inside of you. He continued to lap at your wetness, your oversensitive nerves screaming at you to stop the barrage of stimulation but you couldn’t do anything about it until he pulled away.

Rising from between your legs, he slid up your body until you were met eye to eye. He watched, his face impassive, as you tried to catch your breath, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. When you finally exhaled heavily for the last time, Jonathan captured your lips with his own, the taste of your own cunt overpowering on his lips.

You pulled away from him first, propping yourself back up and looking down his body to where his own arousal was evident.

“Do you want to-”

He took your lips again, effectively shutting you up as he pressed you backwards so you were laying down completely on the bed again, his body perched over yours. Your mind conjured up an image of a predator devouring its prey and a shiver ran through your body. It didn’t even cross your mind that that was the second time that night you’d felt like helpless prey, but for two completely different reasons.

The glittering noise of his belt buckled being undone drifted up to you, and you closed your eyes at the pressure of the head of his cock against your opening, taking a few deep breaths to calm your frantic heartbeat and prepare yourself for what was to come.

“Look at me.”

You opened your eyes and the moment you made eye contact with Jonathan, he began to slowly enter you, his cock splitting you open deliciously. The hand that he had placed beside your head was clenched tightly in the sheet, like it was all he could do to hold himself back from just bottoming out and fucking you ruthlessly. Part of you wished he would.

Quietly, you said his name. He stilled himself, forcing his eyes to focus on your own as they had slowly become more and more unfocused with each inch he sunk into you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice strained and quiet.

“Uh-huh,” You took a deep breath, “But don’t try to hold back for me. I can handle it.”

His hips stuttered, forcing another inch into your body, wrenching a sharp gasp from you. He stopped himself again, his blown out eyes searching your face.

“Are you sure?”

“I can handle it.” You repeated yourself, even though you weren’t actually sure that you could. Already, the tight pressure of his cock in you was overbearing and it wasn’t even fully sheathed inside of you yet.

But he didn’t ask for further clarification before he was pushing further into your wet heat, his lips parting at the all encompassing heat clenching on his length.

His hips flush against your core, he waited for a brief moment for you to adjust before he pulled out and immediately slammed back into you, setting a rough and almost punishing pace.

It was uncomfortable at first and you’re positive it read on your face, your eyebrows scrunched and eyes shut against the pain. But with each thrust into you, something else was added to the pain, a deep seated pleasure that you’d never felt with anyone else before.

Slowly, you began to move your hips along with him, moving up to meet his thrusts halfway. Your eyes slid closed before he delivered a small swat to your thigh, causing them to fly back open.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

He leaned down, and you thought he was going to kiss you but instead he placed his forehead on your own, maintaining eye contact with each thrust. His hand moved under your body to grip you by the back of the neck, lifting you up to gain better leverage on your body as he used you.

“Gonna, fuck, fill you up-” You gasped at the sudden change in his demeanor, clenching slightly at the idea of him finishing inside of you, marking you as his from the inside. He blinked down at you, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen and hungry, even hungrier than when he’d first laid you down. “Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod and whisper please.

He groaned against your neck as his hips stilled against yours, his cock nestled tightly in you as he came, spilling inside of you. At the warm sensation of his cock inside of your cunt and his wet mouth against your skin you whimpered.

Slowly he pulled out of you, his head still buried in the crook of your neck. You remained laying like that for a minute, catching your breath as you slowly came down from the high his body had created.

As you fell asleep, you could’ve sworn you heard Jonathan moving around in the darkness, but you blamed it on the rain outside your window.

part II

#stbotdi #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #this fic is so hard to tag over here bc not every relationship appears in each chapter lol #my writing #my fic #jonathan crane smut #there yall go

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anonymousbeefriendfanfics · 1 month

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Willow

Full Name: Willow

Pronouns: She/Her

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Willow was born in Sumeru with a thirst for knowledge and a love of animals. Her parents had to keep a close eye on her at all times because she would wander off to investigate anything vaguely animal-like that caught her eye. It's only natural that once she grew up, she would enter the Akademiya to research her life-long passion.

She met Tighnari while studying in the Amurta Darshan, and was almost immediately drawn to him. Though she was initially too shy to approach him, when she noticed that everyone else was talking to him and asking for his advice, she eventually summoned the courage to do so as well. He was very kind and helpful, and after a while, she slowly began to befriend him. They began to work together on much of their classwork, helping one another in their strong suits - Tighnari knowing nearly everything there is to know about plants and Willow knowing more animal facts than she knows what to do with.

During her time at the Akademiya, she chose to study Avidya Leopards, which were a relatively unknown species due to most researchers' fear of the predators. Willow began by going to well-known locations for the leopards to be, leaving them a gift of food. After keeping this up for several weeks, she began to drop the food off and retreat a safe distance before stopping to observe them instead of leaving entirely. The leopards grew more and more tolerant of her as time went on, eventually surprising her one day when she arrived with their food, as one of the big cats approached her. She froze in panic, dropping the plate of food at her feet, but the leopard ignored it, instead sniffing curiously at her before rubbing against her like an overgrown housecat. Ever since that day, that group of leopards treated her like one of their own, and it wasn't long before word spread about her, and other leopards she didn't know began to warily approach her as well. She not only gained the perfect research opportunity, and has published a large number of papers about the leopards, but she's gained lifelong friends. To this day, the leopards still approach her whenever she's out in the forest. The first time Tighnari happened to be accompanying her when this happened, the sudden arrival of leopards sent him up the nearest tree with his tail fluffed out twice as big as normal, and she still lovingly teases him about it.

After graduation, she and Tighnari both took a job in Gandharva Ville as Forest Watchers. They grew much closer after this, working and living in harmony, and it wasn't long before they began to develop feelings for one another. Willow ended up being the first to confess, gifting Tighnari a carefully-selected exotic flower known to symbolize love. His eyes lit up as he accepted it, and she listened patiently as he obliviously rambled about the plant, eventually cutting him off when he reached the part about the meaning of the plant. "I know. That's why I gave it to you," she said carefully, and the look of utter shock on his face is one she'll never forget - nor will she forget their first kiss shortly afterwards, awkward and clumsy but so very sweet.

Cyno and Tighnari met while the latter was still attending the Akademiya, and slowly grew to become friends, eventually leading to Willow meeting him as well. She was understandably nervous, coming face to face with the General Mahamatra, but Cyno attempted to ease her anxiety with a joke. She laughed, and every time he saw her after that, he would tell her another one, for she was one of the very few people who appreciated his jokes. After being friends for some time, the couple invited Cyno to date them, as they'd both developed a crush on him. He was initially hesitant, almost suspecting this to be a prank, but he agreed nonetheless. The three now live happily together, although Cyno is often away for his work.

#beefriends ocs #Willow #genshin impact #genshin impact oc

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munsoncurls · 2 years

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kiss the girl | E.M

based off of the song kiss the girl from the movie The Little Mermaid. i do not own the song. i do not own the gif. the photos of ariel are only for visuals!

eddie munson sat at the same lunch table every single day. by the window with his hellfire club. his usual seat was at the head of the table as if that seat was reserved for him and him only. from where he sat, he had the perfect view of who he thought was the most perfect girl his eyes had ever landed on. she had beautiful long red hair that was always tied back with a pastel blue silk bow. her outfits always ranged from pastel colored dresses and skirts to the occasional oversized sweatshirt and blue denim jeans. no matter what she wore, she managed to look breathtaking. each time eddie saw her, she was never without a book. every single day, she sat at an empty lunch table and read.

eddie admired the way that she found comfort in reading rather than socializing with other students. he knew she was the sweetest person to ever walk earth. they shared a few classes together and whenever eddie needed something, whether it was a pen or assistance with the classwork, she was always more than happy to help. eddie could have sworn she was a princess come to life. he knew that staring wasn’t something he should be doing, but, he just could not help himself. something about her had him whipped from the beginning. “if you like her so much, you should just ask her out already.” dustin’s voice pulled his gaze off of the girl.

eddie simply groaned and continued to munch on his pretzels. “yeah, and get rejected? no thank you” he mumbled loud enough for his club to hear. he huffed in frustration. “she might like you too, i’ve seen her looking over here a couple of times, believe it or not.” gareth mentioned. eddie’s heart immediately skipped a beat at those words but he didn’t want to believe it. “i seriously doubt that, man.” he said as he flicked a pretzel at gareth’s head. gareth simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. “dude, when you’re standing up giving us those stupid speeches, she’s over there staring at you. i’m just saying, maybe you’re wrong about how she feels. you should make a move before someone else does.” the boy shrugged.

eddie looked over at the red head. he smiled faintly at the sight of her with her nose stuck in a book. he inhaled a deep breath before rising from his seat and walking over to where she was sitting. the hellfire club watched their dungeon master closely, wanting to see how this would end. they genuinely hoped it would end well as eddie did need a girl in his life. eddie sat down beside her at her table. she looked up from her chapter book, her beautiful blue eyes staring into his brown ones. she gave him a sweet smile and he could immediately feel his heart rate increase. she hasn’t even said one word and she’s already making him nervous.

“i-um, hi” he smiled shyly. she closed the chapter books and gently rested her hands on the cover. “hi. eddie, right?” her soft voice asked. he was completely shocked that she even knew his name. he inhaled a breath. “y-yeah! um, i wanted to ask if you’d like to hang out sometime? i just think you’re really nice and r-really pretty and you’re the only girl who’s ever been nice to me and-“ he was rambling. she could tell he was nervous.

“eddie” she chuckled as she rested her hand on top of his. her hand was so soft and so warm. eddie swore his heart was doing all kinds of flips in his chest just from her touch. “i’d love to hang out with you. is after school good?” she asked.

eddie stared at her wide eyed. he couldn’t form the words to speak the moment that her hand touched his. all he could do was simply nod his head. “great! meet me in the parking lot!” she smiled as the school bell rang.

she gathered her belongings and waved goodbye to eddie who just sat there in surprise. he watched as she left the cafeteria with her chapter book in her arms. the hellfire club saw each and every moment. the minute she left, they ran over to eddie. “what happened?” mike asked.

eddie gulped. “we’re hanging out after school! you guys have to help me plan something!” he exclaimed. he wanted this to go well. he knew he couldn’t screw this up. by the time the end of the school day came, eddie found himself leaning against his van in the school parking lot. the minute she pushed through the school doors, his breath hitched up. she walked over to him with that same bubbly smile she always had. “hey! so, what do you wanna do?” she asked as he helped her into the passenger side.

“i actually have an idea you might like” he smiled as he got into the driver side and started the car. metallica instantly blaring causing her body to jolt. he stopped the music and instantly felt bad for scaring her. “sorry” he chuckled nervously.

she waved him off. “that’s okay” she laughed. she laughed. it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. eddie drove towards lovers lake. the car ride wasn’t awkward at all. he began to notice how talkative she was the more comfortable she became around him. and boy, did she have a lot to say. but eddie didn’t mind one bit. he liked hearing about whatever she had to say. when they arrived at lovers lake, he walked her over to the water where a small wooden rowboat was leaning against the grass.

“i thought we could sit out in the lake and just talk” he shrugged his shoulders. he watched as her eyes immediately lit up at his words. “yeah! let’s go” she spoke in excitement. he helped her into the boat before settling in himself before rowing them out to the middle of the lake. “i really like your hair, by the way” he complimented. he watched as her cheeks became flushed with a light pink color.

she played with the ends of her hair. “thank you” eddie smiled at her. god, she was so cute. once they got to the middle of the lake, eddie put the paddles down and let the boat float. the sun was setting and the sky was a beautiful orange color.

he stared at her, admiring her and her beautiful features. “so, how come you don’t see me as a freak like everyone else?” he asked, leaning back a bit. she shrugged her shoulders. “i’m not like everybody else. i actually really like you a lot” she blurted out. she immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. she absolutely did not mean for that to come out. eddie just smirked at her. he gently took her hands in his. “i have liked you ever since you first talked to me in o’donnells class” he admitted.

a wide smile spread across her face. “really?” she asked. he chuckled and nodded his head. “really.” he smiled. they stared into each other’s eyes as if they were admiring each other’s features. eddie remembered the advice that gareth gave him earlier. “take her to lovers lake and just kiss the girl” and that’s exactly what he planned to do. “can i kiss you?” eddie asked softly.

she nodded her head. “need to hear you say it, sweetheart” he spoke. her cheeks flushing with a light pink color at the nickname. she swore she could have fainted right then and there. “yes” she whispered loud enough to hear.

eddie’s hands met each side of her face as he pressed his lips against hers. the moment was perfect. the kind you would see in a cliche movie. but eddie didn’t mind and neither did she. he was just over the moon that he was finally kissing the girl of his dreams.

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fanfiction

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iamthecomet · 8 months

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It's hot here too, pool sounds fun! I spent most of Sunday at the lake floating around to cool off :)

I'm glad the library is chill and YAY GAY GRAPHIC NOVELS!!!

My day is meh. Tuesdays are my longest days class-wise. I have classes with very little break from 8am until 6pm, so they're really long days. I'm also just not really feeling super great today, dang chronic illness :( I'm looking forward to going back to my dorm, snuggling with my pupper, and maybe eating some dinner if I'm feeling up to it.

Other than class work, I've been hanging around on tumblr wayyy more than I have since like March (?) and I'm slowly trying to get back into talking to people on discord. The ghumblr server is a little much for me right now (way too many people, and I don't know most of them at this point), but the Sleep Token one is smaller still so I'm starting there.

I've started making some friends on campus this year too and have just generally been way happier than I've been in a very long time so that's been a nice change of pace (potentially the happiest I've ever been that I can remember). This time last year I was doing pretty bad mentally, so it's been kinda weird to go through the beginning of a college year in a good headspace.

It was so cold and rainy and miserable here that I didn't get to go into the pool at all in August. So, I'm really into the hot weather (for now, by tomorrow I'll be sick of it again).

I love floating around a lake though--honestly one of my favorite things. Tried to go kayaking/swimming yesterday but there was literally nowhere to park or unload the kayaks so we just...didn't do that. That's a super long day of classes. I'm sure it's exhausting. I hope it goes by quickly for you and you can get in bed and have a snack and have some pup cuddles. You deserve it. I hope tomorrow is a better day. I've been so happy to see you back on tumblr. I missed you while you were gone ♥. And I'm really happy to have you in my ask box again! The ghumblr can be overwhelming sometimes, and it has changed a LOT in the past few months so I totally get not starting there. It'll be there when and if you're ready. You have no idea how happy I am to hear that things are going well and you're in a good headspace and you're happier. That's so good. And new friends!? Even better. Honestly the hardest part of college is not the classwork, it's the people and dealing with your own bullshit in a way you've never had to before. So, I'm really glad that you are finding places where you fit, and that you are starting the year in such a good headspace!! You deserve to be happy and excited about where you are and what you're doing! ♥♥♥♥

#comet comments #fruits

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goodfully · 4 months

Text

ahh i havent really been using tumblr, mostly bc my first semester of grad school was overwhelming, but i have a lot on my mind right now that i feel like organizing and typing up hahaha

for certain reasons, i usually get overly anxious when the year ends and go crazy insane for the entire first month of the year.. but ive been so calm these days, im not actually sure if thats bc ive actually healed or if ive found good distractions. ive always been obsessed with at least appearing as if im put together, but ive been much more so this year than any other year... i hope ive been actually healing despite that tho hahaha

anyway! studying philosophy in grad school has been the most excitement ive ever felt! to be surrounded by so many thoughtful and inspiring ppl that i get to often talk to and listen to and learn from has been so wonderful. in the past months ive been esp obsessed with kants conception of perfection and god and goodness... im currently reading his "a new elucidation of the first principles of metaphysical cognition" and aaahh its just so exciting hahaha i really regret not studying philosophy for my undergrad degree and i worry i lack so much compared to my peers, but ive been enjoying every single class so far and am even more excited for my classes next semester!

ahh but having two part time jobs along with my classes and classwork has really made me so busy and exhausted... i quite dislike nyc in general as well, so that on top of everything else has just really made me become someone very antisocial and difficult to befriend and hang out with... im also stuck in the mindset that im just here to prioritize studying for two years and get the hell out of there, so my desire to make close friends (i socialize with my program mates superficially..) has been very low. im very much someone who wont speak/reach out unless spoken to/approached, and i didnt realize it was a such a huge problem until i received a wake up call from someone... so i think this year i need to work on being more aware of the relationships i have with other ppl in my life.

in general tho, i also just would like to be more aware of living in my body/physical self... less zoned out and stuck in my head, more going outside and moving around and cleaning up the spaces i use and ofc also being with others. i guess what i actually mean is that i want to have more faith in my being and actually love being... and these are just some things i can do to hopefully do that. i dont think i can be the kind of person i want to be that makes an actual difference/contribution in the world they live in if im not actually living/being in my body.

anyway i think thats all i have to say for now? i look forward to this upcoming year... continuing my studies in grad school and going back home to taiwan for the summer in between those two semesters. itll be so busy and difficult and exciting! i just get the feeling that its okay for me to have wishful thinking and high hopes for myself this year hahaha

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loversj0y · 9 months

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12, 16, 23 for ask game! <3

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

almost! once my first year in college, me and these two guys id known for like. maybe three weeks at that point? stayed up to watch the sunrise and then promptly had to go to zoom classes so i didnt sleep until like 10pm ish? so it was like 46hours and then i ended up sleeping through all of my classes the next day

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

pretty good, a bit nervous. tomorrow i start my classwork prep which is a bit nerve wracking bc i just changed to an english major so i feel very behind my gngdayfsh itll be fine

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

yes, i have 10

my ears match so i have three lobes and a helix on either side, and my septum + my left nostril :3

#kiss :3 #mar answers #mar’s lore

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jaimebluesq · 2 years

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WIP Wednesday 07/27

So... I started that WangSang roommates fic :D

~~~

...Lan Qiren cleared his throat, attracting everyone's attention.

“As you no doubt heard, there was a severe storm last night here in Cloud Recesses. Unfortunately, it has hit some parts of our sect grounds harder than others. As a result, there will be no classes today...”

He felt as if he could float on air. Nie Huaisang's mind immediately tuned out the rest of Lan Qiren's speech and began going through his options for things to do with his day – should he paint, go birdwatching, or simply head back to bed? The possibilities were endless, and for once, he was looking forward to the day ahead. Before he could decide on what to do, the crowd around him began breaking up, and despite the announcement of no class, most of the students seemed upset for some reason. He shrugged – if they missed classwork and assignments and boring lecture after boring lecture, then that was their problem. Nie Huaisang planned on taking full advantage of this opportunity for relaxation.

He returned to his dorm and sat on his bed, tapping the blanket with his fingers as he tried to decide on what to do. Despite his initial tiredness, the announcement had made him too excited to go back to sleep – though perhaps he would take a nap later in the day. Between painting and birdwatching, he finally decided on the latter – that way, if Lan Qiren changed his mind and called everyone back to class, Nie Huaisang would be nowhere near the area to hear the announcement. With that decided, he got up and began searching his room for a small birdcage, just in case he was able to catch one.

He was on his knees with his head under his bed when there was a knock at the door. He grimaced, wondering who it could be and what they wanted. He hadn't grown close to any of the students in attendance as most of them were more interested in learning and training, and all Nie Huaisang wanted to do was nap, paint, and have fun. Life was too short to waste it on things that didn't matter!

He reluctantly rose onto his feet and stumbled over to the door, surprised to see Lan Wangji himself on the other side, a bag over the shoulder of his immaculate robes, while his immaculate hair framed his immaculate face with its lack of emotional expression. If there was ever someone who looked like they were allergic to fun, that person was Lan Wangji.

But what was he doing at Nie Huaisang's door?

“Can I help you, Lan-er-gongzi?”

Lan Wangji didn't answer; he simply looked at Nie Huaisang as if he should know the answer.

“If you're here to inquire about my dorm, it weathered the storm fine last night. It was quite the light show, though.”

Lan Wangji's face shifted slightly, and Nie Huaisang had the distinct sense that he was not only being judged, but judged severely lacking... then again, that was a far too familiar sensation. “Did Uncle not explain?”

“About there being no classes?” He nodded. “I thought it was rather good news, but I know not everyone feels the same way.”

Something in Lan Wangji's expression made Nie Huaisang want to take a step backwards.

“My home was damaged,” he said simply. “I have been assigned here.”

Nie Huaisang's brow furrowed. “Here? What do you mean assigned here?”

Lan Wangji was apparently unwilling to wait for him to understand what he was saying – the boy pushed into the room past Nie Huaisang, who was left spluttering at how rude it was. So much for the Lan rules – there had to be something in the rules against forcing one's way into someone else's home, right?

“You didn't listen to the full announcement,” Lan Wangji concluded, but froze mid-way through the room, his eyes scanning from one end to the other. Aside from the cluttered second bed, there were rolls of parchment scattered all over the place, incense ashes spilled next to the bed, and at least three pairs of shoes that were left in different areas. Lan Wangji lifted a hand to his temple as if he were about to have a headache. “Visiting students have to share with us until our homes are fixed.”

And Lan Wangji had been assigned here - to his room, where he slept and ate and painted and read spring books and did other things. Nie Huaisang's shoulders drooped as the reality of the situation sunk in. “B-but, I-” Lan Wangji's head turned so that he could shoot Nie Huaisang a glare. He gulped. “I... wasn't expecting visitors, let alone a roommate.”

“Nevertheless, you have one.”

Perhaps he'd be able to talk to Lan Xichen and ask for an exception – he and Nie Mingjue were close, and the older boy often gave in when Nie Huaisang pleaded with him for attention or a gift (much to his brother's dismay). Until then, however... “Just give me a few moments to get the bed cleared up. I promise, it's not dirty, really, just cluttered.”

Lan Wangji strode forward and reached out a hand to grab the first item he saw on the bed, a book opened face-down with a familiar cover – Nie Huaisang jumped forward to take it from him before he could see the contents. “That's... personal reading. You wouldn't care for it.”

You'd have to have a personality and like to have fun for that.

TBC...

#wangsang #nie huaisang #lan wangji #omg they were roommates #odd couple vibes #wip wednesday

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