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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

as if

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie taunts reader daily, but… she kinda likes it? just never does anything about it. not until she has to tutor him, anyway.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 7,901 words

content/warnings: swearing, some angst at the beginning kinda, mention of death (barb), SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, arguing, breeding kink, hate sex, brief masturbation mentions, mocking, teasing, anxiety kinda, spitting, invasion of privacy (eddie goes through her things), eddie’s a dirty lil pantie stealer and sniffer, y/n is a c*m sl*t, bulge kink(?), dacryphilia, groping, choking, daddy kink if you squint real hard, mentions of virginity (y/n is not a virgin), pet names (doll face, princess), degradation (use of slut). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i have to say tbh i don’t see eddie ever being a bully so this is technically like an au!eddie?…but also… uhhhh very hot. makes my brain wiggle with heat waves so here we are. hope you like it! <3

part two - part three

As if.

It’s a simple statement, really, and you meant no harm when you said it. It was just something to be said… that didn’t mean he didn’t hear it though.

That also didn’t mean it didn’t tick him off.

You were surprisingly pretty to be in the geek group, but in the cruel and tyrannical world of high school girls..? Alas, no amount of lip gloss or cute skirts could free you of the fact that you were smart. Not only smart, but a geek. A nerd—who was shy around most—and you got along with nearly all of the teachers because of how well-behaved and intelligent you were. And, on occasion—although you always tried your best to not come off this way—a bit of a know-it-all.

That was the final nail in your coffin, really. Correcting Carol Perkins in American History in front of everyone back in your freshman year. (Her sophomore year and already irritable about having to take a freshman course 2 years in a row). You meant well, but she had it out for you ever since. The tyrant, as it was, made it entirely impossible for you to make your way up the food chain.

So in your sophomore year of high school, back in Autumn of ‘83, you were among the peasants just like him—even as a senior (for the first time). He took a quiet interest in you. You were cute and soft-spoken. You were a sophomore, though, and the fact that you were 15 at the time made the 17 year old scrunch up his nose whenever he remembered. He could still look, though, right? There was no harm in that…

Nancy and Barb took notice of it all pretty quickly. The way that the senior would scan over your outfits everyday. The way that he might’ve smirked a little if you had to bend over to pick something up, simply staring at your behind rather than coming over to get your things for you. The pair would exchange glances that you were adorably unaware of, over his attention that you were also so endearingly oblivious to. One day, they finally burst over it in the hallway, and he overheard.

“I think a senior likes you.” Nancy teased, gripping her Geometry textbook to her chest.

“What?” You had let out a slight laugh, digging through you locker. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Barb interjected. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart? Observant?”

You were all wide-eyed over that, pouty lips opening and then closing as you struggled to find your words before finally landing on a frustrated huff and a simple “Shut up.”

“He stares at you all the time.” Nancy pushed with a teasing smile.

“Like you can talk.” You teased, slamming your locker shut before resting your back against it. “Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is totally all over you.” You smirked at the way her face instantly heated up.

“I- He- It’s not like that.” She insisted, completely flustered. And while Barb agreed with you, she wasn’t interested in letting you direct the conversation elsewhere.

“Besides he’s just a Junior. The guy who likes you is a Senior.” Nancy tacked on.

“Like there’s really that big of a difference?” You raised a brow.

“There is.” Barb scoffs.

“Well then if it’s such a huge deal… can’t you just tell me who it is?”

“You seriously don’t know?” Barb questioned and the ginger-brunette pair tilted their heads while they looked at you with a sort of exasperated disbelief. You just gave them that wide eyed look again and shrugged your shoulders.

Barb broke first with a scoff and a bright smile. “Eddie Munson. He stares at you all the time.”

Eddie Munson. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he was still a Senior. He was still attractive to you, and could still make an underclassmen blush if he gave them any attention simply because he was older and a little dangerous. He just didn’t show any interest in any of the other younger students, just a little curiosity towards you.

“Eddie Munson?” You had laughed a little, which made him furrow his brows as he listened in just around the corner of the hall at his own locker. You were being dismissive out of nerves, not out of any sort of malicious intent, but that’s not how he took your tone. After all, he was a cynical man.

“As if.”

After that he was a bit bitter towards you. Then he was a little mean. And then he was just plain cruel. He was an asshole. He was a bully.

Since his interest being pointed out to you, you occasionally glanced over at him to see if he really was staring. But he either acted like you didn’t exist, or whenever his gaze did meet yours the corners of his lips turned down and his brow frowned with disgust before looking elsewhere.

When Barb went missing, you and Nancy were temporarily joined at the hip in your efforts to figure out what happened. Then one day Nancy went cold on you. Started making excuses and hardly speaking to you otherwise. You didn’t understand, finding yourself completely alone as you scattered “Missing Person” posters all over Hawkins.

You had no idea what happened with Barb at the time and still had no clue what happened with your friendship with Nance to this very day. Maybe the loss was too much. Maybe Nancy couldn’t handle the reminder of your perfect trio. She was always closer to Barb than you. Maybe Barb missing and then turning up dead made it too difficult for her to face you. Maybe she was all caught up in two guys being completely obsessed with her, which admittedly made you a little jealous.

Soon enough you seemed to be completely off one another’s radars. It made high school even lonelier for you. You eventually found some new friends in other corners of the “Smart Kids” lunch table, but it was never like it was with Nancy and Barb.

So by the time he started getting a little mean, there wasn’t really anyone to protect you. Your new friends were skittish around the metalhead. Nance and Barb would’ve stood up for you once, but that support system was obliterated back in ‘83.

So when he shoved past you in the halls later in your sophomore year, no one gave it any thought. When he was pulling your hair in your Junior year then acting all innocent when you turned around to confront him, still no one cared. Now in your Senior year—and him in his third—whenever you thought he couldn’t be worse, he proved you wrong and did so with a devilish grin.

He pulled your hair. He tripped you. He stood behind you in line at lunch and would flip up the back of your skirt. He smacked your books out of your hands. He openly mocked you while leaning back in his chair at lunch with that smug look on his face. He mimicked your contributions in class under his breath, knowing you’d hear him and trip over your words. He snuck filthy messages into your locker that made your face burn with embarrassment and disgust—disgust for him and for the way his perverted words made your thighs press together. He would speed up whenever you were walking or biking home just to scare the shit out of you. He would take any opportunity to shove you or throw things at you or press his body up against yours in a derisive and vulgar manner—especially in gym class. He would “playfully” hump you from behind and nearly knock you over whenever you bent over and there was no teacher paying attention. Or spank you. Or pinch your ass.

He was horrible. Disgusting. Obnoxious. Crude. Vile. He made you go home with tears in your eyes most days, but the worst part was how much you liked the attention. You hated yourself for it. You wished you were running to the nearest adult to tell them every last thing he did to you. You wished you were standing up to him and calling him a disgusting pig in front of everyone which surely would’ve pulled out some “Ooo”s and maybe even some of the Seniors that hated him would’ve joined in. Maybe even had your back, even if it was temporary.

But you didn’t because by now when he pulled your hair, you had to refrain from whimpering or moaning. When he tripped you, you thought of the things he could do to you now you were already on your hands and knees. When he flipped up your skirt you always gasped and shoved him away, secretly hoping he’d do it again—even starting to wear only your cutest pairs of panties to school. When he smacked your books out of your hands, you actually liked that it was him causing you to bend over or get on your knees to collect your things again. When he decided to mock you from over at his spot at lunch, you got butterflies from the way he said your name and the way his dimples sunk into his cheeks. When he mimicked you in class, you tripped over your words because his voice and tangible presence got you all flustered and hot. When you got to your locker, you secretly hoped to see the torn off corner of some notebook page flutter onto the floor with the most obscene words. When he sped up to scare you, you thought about screaming something so bold at him that he would screech to a halt and reverse before telling you to get in his van, now.

You liked when he threw things at you like balled up paper to your cheek in class or a basketball to your side in gym. You liked when he shoved you or pressed against you because in his attempts to intimidate you with his touch and his proximity, it made your knees weak. You liked how he pinched your ass or gave it a little smack when you bent over and your teacher wasn’t looking. And you loved when he would thrust up against you whenever you were bent over and there was no teacher around at all, because his bulge pressed up against you (even while he was laughing devilishly) made you ache.

He was so utterly horrible to you, and yet when you found yourself grinding on your hand at night on top of your pink, white and yellow quilt—you were thinking about him and how mean he was. You were thinking about how mean he would be as he fucked you. Taunting you and teasing you and mocking you. You spasmed around your fingers and choked down your cries at the thought of him bullying your cunt.

It was all a fantasy, though. He never interacted with you longer than a few seconds, and was always with him in control. If you walked up to him and told him you wanted him to fuck you like the bully he was, he probably would’ve died laughing right before your eyes and told everyone he knew about your embarrassing lust for the guy who made your life a living hell. But now you were being cornered into spending time with him, and being faced with a real-life scenario where you were together made your palms sweat.

“I know he’s a difficult young man, but if you tutor him I’ll figure something out with the principal. Some sort of extra credit maybe.”

“There’s no one else that could tutor him?” You choked out, nerves on edge. Ms. O’Donnell gave you a sympathetic smile and shook her head.

“All busy.”

Busy, my ass you wanted to huff out. They were probably all avoiding him like the plague. O’Donnell was desperate to get his grade up and get him out of the damn school, which you didn’t blame her for, but god… why you?

“Okay…” You relented, a sad twitch for a smile when she sighed in relief and thanked you incessantly.

“I’ve already spoken to him about needing a tutor, I’ll let him know the good news, okay?”

You nodded with a meek “okay,” and tried to go on with the rest of your day as if you weren’t wracked with fear, excitement, concern over your excitement. You were on edge all day, and nearly jumped out of you seat when you were called to the office over the speakers about 5 minutes to the end of your last class. You swallowed anxiously, collecting your things and trying to ignore the “ooo”s over you being summoned to the principal’s office—assuming you were in trouble.

You trudged towards your destination, pausing when you spotted him slack in one of the chairs by the front desk that he frequented more than anyone else. You considered running in the opposite direction and making up some lie to Ms. O’Donnell the next day, but then Mrs. White beamed at you after happening to glance away from her clunky typewriter.

“Miss Y/L/N! Come on in, dear.” She spoke cheerfully in a way that went through you sideways. Eddie’s eyes shot up to you, smirking around the fingernail he was chewing at and clearly considering spitting it at you if Mrs. White hadn’t been paying attention. You toyed with the ends of your sleeves anxiously, listening to Mrs. White discuss the details Ms. O’Donnell had ready. What topics to go over (which was just about everything). How many times per week she wanted you to tutor him (at least once/week). The only thing left out was when and where.

“Oh that’s up to you two, hon.” She chirped. “Just compare your schedules.”

“It’s not in school? With a teacher around?” You questioned anxiously, but she was oblivious to your worries.

“Nope, no need for supervision. We like to give the tutors space from the teachers while they work with others, we find that the students that need help take to that better.”

“Sure do.” Eddie spoke up, and you nearly flinched at how close he sounded. You glanced over and he must’ve just gotten out of the hard plastic chair cause he was slightly leaned back to give his body a stretch causing his chest to puff out a little, his hands moving to rest by his hips as he tugged his jeans up.

“What? Scared of me ‘r somethin’?” He whispered playfully, a hand moving up to rest over his heart as he feigned offense before his act melted away to show his usual smirk. He winked at you, and you swallowed nervously as you looked back at Mrs. White again who was blissfully unaware of his malevolence.

“So here you go… those worksheets and… a time sheet.” The woman grinned as she placed the last paper on top before sliding everything over. “You just have to add the dates that you study together, and you both have to sign each time. Ms. O’Donnell said writing a quick synopsis of what you went over would be nice too, but not necessary. The most important thing is seeing a difference in Mr. Munson’s grades.”

“Sounds good to me, Pam.” Eddie smiled at Mrs. White whose sunny demeanor sunk into a more serious expression while you put the papers away neatly in one of your folders.

“What have we talked about, Mr. Munson? Use my first name again and you’ll find your butt in detention this Saturday for such disrespect. Again.”

He puts his hands up as if apologizing for his actions, but he was still grinning ear to ear. Mrs. White eyed him with a tight lipped scowl, then looked at you.

“Good luck.”

You were gonna need it.

The ride to your house in his rusty van was surprisingly quiet beyond his music. You were on edge which he enjoyed like always, but he was clearly saving the torment for when he was inside your home. You wished your parents were home, even if they were tucked away in another room, but they were both gone for the weekend to attend your Aunt’s wedding. Not that you’d let him know that.

“We’ll be studying in the dining room. And no funny business. My dad’s in his office and he doesn’t like being disturbed while he’s working.” You lied seamlessly, making your way over to the dining table, Eddie lazily sauntering along.

“Oo does daddy have a temper?” He teased in a whisper. “Gonna come out and spank you if you bother him too much?”

He gave you a mocking pout and your face scrunched up with irritation.

“Just sit so we can get this over with.”

“I’m sorry are you under the false impression that you’re in charge here, doll face?” He questioned, keeping his anger mostly disguised by his inquisitive tone.

“Well, I’m the tutor so-“ You scoff out, avoiding looking at him as you pulled all of your study materials from your bag.

“Yeah and that means something to me because…?” He drew out his last word as he spun on his heels and casually walked away.

“I- what-“ You sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“You know it’s awfully rude to have a guest and not give them a tour of the place.” He spoke casually, grabbing the ends of picture frames hanging on the walls to get a better look at them before letting them drop back again. You were hot on his heels, fixing every frame he left crooked. He paused at a picture of you from camp in a bikini with some of the friends you made that summer, smug and sucking at his teeth a little as he eyed the image of you.

“Real cute…still got it?” He looked over at you, his hair shifting over his shoulder as he eyed you. “Wanna model it for me? Make all this worth my while?”

Your cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“We have to study.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, and looks over to spot the staircase behind him. He slunk around the corner and made his way up the carpeted steps.

“Hey- hey! You’re not allowed up there!” You shout after him, rushing to follow after him. He was already on the second floor when he turned and shushed you.

“Don’t wanna make daddy angry, right? He’s hard at work if I’m remembering correctly.” He whispered with a joking concern for your father’s focus who wasn’t even here, and you worried he knew that. He continued on along the hallway and you stayed behind him, wishing there was something you could do to get him to stop. He opened doors along the way, inspecting the interior with a mild curiosity. The upstairs bathroom. Your parent’s room. The spare bedroom. Then-

“Ah, here we are.” Your bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Please get out of my room.” You pleaded, but he continued on his quest. He looked at the makeup on your vanity, toppling some of the products over like a careless cat before moving on. He toyed with any photos in your room, sniffed at the perfume bottles on your dresser.

“Eddie-“ You started, clenching your jaw as he found the perfume you wore the most often and sprayed some of it on the crotch of his jeans. Then he just kept a hold on it as he waltzed around your room, spraying it several times just to waste your favorite product.

“That’s rude.” You spoke up, your lips pouting slightly. He snickered at your comment, how you sounded like a wronged child.

“Aw well if you need to touch up your perfume at all, you know where to get it.” He grinned, pointing to his groin before continuing to go through your things. The concept was strange but still made you clench simply from the thought of having to rub at his bulge to get something you wanted. He didn’t waste that much of your fragrance, but the idea was still burning in your mind.

He muttered disapproving comments at the posters on your walls and the cassettes he rummaged through until he got bored. You were nervous about interfering even as he invaded your privacy, until he was opening your top drawer to go through your panties and bras.

“Hey! That’s too far!” You gasp, rushing over to slam the drawer closed again. He shoved you back and opened it again.

“Quit being so fucking uptight.”

“Quit going through things that don’t belong to you!” You talked back which was still surprising him every time you did, but certainly didn’t let it show.

“Yeah well quit pissing me off before I put you in your fucking place.” He seethes, giving you an angry warning look that felt like fire all over you. You wanted to cry, to tell him to stop being so mean to you, but it would be useless. You’d just end up feeling pathetic as he laughed over your misery. You just had to stand there and watch as he kept going through your underwear drawer.

“Ooh, cute. I don’t think I’ve seen these yet.” He clicked his tongue and blew out an impressed breath as he held up a black lacy number. “‘d love to leave some stains on these for you, doll face.”

“You’re disgusting.” You blurt out, but the thought of his cum spurting onto your new pair of panties made you feel warm. He smirked at your frustration, tucking the underwear into his pocket.

“Those are new!”

He shrugs, shoving the drawer closed again with enough careless force to knock over a picture frame perched on top. He doesn’t seem to care until he’s spinning around with his finger pointed at you and that wicked look on his face.

“You know what, though? You bring up a great point.” He tugs the lace from his pocket and holds it up to his nose before letting out a disappointed sigh. “Now that’s a problem. Still smell like whatever cutesy store you got ‘em from.”

You have a moment of hope that he’s trying to be nice and provide an opportunity to give them back to you, even if he’s going about it in a dirty way. But that doesn’t last long, even when he’s tossing them back to you.

“Why don’t you put ‘m on for me, huh? Then when you give ‘em to me on my way out I’ll have proof of how fucking wet I get you.” He spoke so smoothly as he got closer to you, that it almost blanketed the filth of his words as something soft or even sweet.

“As if.” You scoff out in a huff, and there’s a fury to his gaze that you don’t understand.

“Yeah… as if.” He murmurs darkly, getting closer to you. You swallow nervously and take a step back. “Cause fuck me, right? I’m just some good-for-nothing asshole who you wouldn’t give the time of day. Not a priss like you.”

“I-I’m not a-“

“Oh dad!” He’s suddenly shouting at the top of his lungs in a sing-song manner, his body whipped around to face your doorway, and your eyes go wide.

“Stop-“

“Hey! I just wanna meet Mr. Y/L/N! Spending time with your lovely daughter!” He spoke with a passionate respect that you knew was coming from a hateful place. He had gone to your doorframe and was listening for any kind of response. A verbal acknowledgement. The sound of steps or creaking floorboards to tell him there was actually going to be someone to confront him.

His grin became devious as he went to the steps again. “Hello?” He calls, dragging out that last vowel.

“Will you quit it!” You hiss, tears prickling at your eyes now at the thought of him realizing you were all alone. Just you and him. And that you had lied to him.

He was turning around, sure now that the only people in this house were you and him. His dimples were pushing into his cheeks again as he sucked at his teeth, approaching you at the doorway to your bedroom like a cocky killer. The kind that you saw in horror movies that knew they had their prey cornered and could have some fun with it.

Out of nerves and a need to keep a barrier between the two of you, you took a quick step back and went to slam your door shut so you could lock it, but he got there in time to stop in with an outstretched arm. He pushed it open so harshly that you were sure there would be a dent in your wall where the doorknob was forced into it.

God, you couldn’t stand the way he looked right now. So proud. So smug. That shit-eating grin that told you he knew he was winning. That fury from before still lingering. He noticed the gloss to your eyes and tuts as a mocking pout reaches his lips.

“Upset about somethin’, doll? Someone got you all worked up?”

You huff out your nose, your lips screwed into a frown and your eyes still stinging with unshed tears.

“You’re so… so… mean! I hate you!” You shout, and without even realizing it you had stomped your foot at your last statement. It makes him pause, his expression unreadable for a moment as he considers everything until it all lands on amusement. He crosses his arms over his chest, grin wild and his hair flowing with him as he tilts his head with intrigue.

“Did you just stomp your foot at me, princess?” He teases, and your face feels so hot you wonder if he can see the flush of pink even through your foundation. He can. You refuse to answer him, fighting back the urge to fully cry in front of him. He’s getting closer though until he’s brushing up against you and looking down at you. God, he’s so warm.

“Aw… such a sensitive girl. Look at you.” He murmurs as he continues backing you two up until you’re pressed against the wall, one of those posters he disapproved of crinkling against your hair. He’s making fun of you like always but there’s a softness around the edges of his words. Blurred by a desire to do just about anything to you. He reaches his hand up to drag the pad of his thumb over your pouty lower lip before bringing his hand down to grasp you by your chin.

“Bet your pussy’s just as responsive as the rest of ya, huh?” He whispers as he makes you look up at him. Your nostrils flare momentarily and you keep looking up at him but you still won’t speak and you still won’t let those tears fall.

“I bet your cunt is just as weepy. All hot and wet when I’m fucking you into shape.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to refrain from whimpering or letting your lips part for a soft sigh. Anything that would confirm how badly you want him to figure out just how right he is. But then his anger flares back up as he’s gripping your jaw now, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable.

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He demands in a low voice with a sort of growl to it that makes your knees weak. You part your lips as you consider answering him like you’re told, and he raises his brows while waiting. Then, in a brazen defiance, you spit in his face instead.

He’s so solid it’s almost like he doesn’t care. Not a flinch or a crack in his demeanor. Then he’s moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and gripping onto it enough that you gasp.

“I’ve been spat on my whole fucking life, you think that’s gonna make a difference here, princess? Think that’s gonna make me respect you? Think you’re brave?”

Your hands reach up to rest over his on your neck, a mewl vibrating from the back of your throat. He leans in closer to your face, your lips parting wider as he tightens his grip.

“It just makes me think you’re stupid.” He finishes before spitting directly into your open mouth. He’s releasing you from his grip right after, wiping your saliva from his cheek while you catch your breath. A soft moan escapes you before you can keep it at bay and his inflated ego is tangible. He’s eyeing you with a sort of amazed intrigue that pulls him back to you, his arms lifting to place his hands on the wall on either side of your head.

“You like it, don’t you?” He laughs and you shake your head furiously, but he isn’t buying it. “You could’ve gotten my ass suspended—hell, even expelled—ages ago. And yet…?”

“I just felt bad that you’re such a fucking idiot.“

“Dirty girl.” He hisses inward through his teeth as if burned by your words, but you were just egging him on.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He wondered in a soft tone, hand back to your jaw as you stayed quiet. “Will you kiss daddy with that mouth?” He added with a lazy grin, exuding dominance and arrogance.

You became a little slack jawed at the implication, and he was on you. Hand still on your jaw, he pressed his lips to yours. You feigned protest at first with a few kicks and smacks, but then he had your wrists pinned against the wall and you sunk into the kiss. He kept you pinned for a few moments, until he was sure you were relaxed. He dropped his hands down to completely engulf your waist in his arms, and keep you pressed against him. The kiss was filthy with anger-fueled lust and slips of moans on your end and grunts from his.

“I hate you.” You whispered in between kisses, his hands moving to grip your ass now.

“Yeah you do.” He chuckled proudly against your lips before beginning to trail his lips down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands settled on his muscular back as he sucked and bit at your neck, messy hair tickling you. More sounds slipped from you with no attempt to hold them back, a teary whimper hanging on your lips after he bit down on your neck hard enough to pull a yelp from you.

“Gonna mark you all up…” He muttered against your skin, making your head swirl.

“Gonna have you walking into school and have everyone know who you belong to.” He pulled back now, breathless and his full lips all pink with attention. His eyes were dark with lust, and it all made you whimper. The sound made him laugh in disbelief.

“Yeah? Such a slut. Bet you can’t wait to walk in with my hickeys all over you. Might even fuck you in the back of my van beforehand. Make you go to class full of my cum.”

You almost can’t believe him or yourself as you nod your head dumbly with a desperate pout. He groans at the sight and pulls you to him again, his lips back on yours as his hands reach down to hook under your thighs and lift you up. You’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, a soft cry escaping when he starts grinding against you. He’s so hard and feels so pressed into his jeans, you’re both afraid and alight at the thought of just how big he probably is.

Eddie made his way over towards your bed until his legs made contact with your bed frame. He pulled away from the kiss to drop you on the bed carelessly. You lifted your torso up by digging your elbows back into your mattress, legs bent up at the knee and parted for him while you watched him undo his belt. He noticed you staring, and his gaze traveled along your form. Your knit sweater. Your pleated skirt.

“Take that shit off.” He said with a slight jut of his chin in the direction of your top, hands paused at the waist of his jeans and boxers. You hesitated at first, mostly at his hesitation to pull down his bottoms, but also out of nerves that your body wouldn’t be good enough. He made fun of you for just about everything. Surely he would tease you for that too.

“Did I fucking stutter?” His voice rose just a touch, his expression showing his impatience. At that your eyes went a bit wide again, and you lifted your sweater over your head and then the t-shirt you had on underneath. His hand was under his undone jeans, palming himself through his boxers as he looked over your naked torso.

“Bra too.” He murmured, and your nerves subsided from the way he looked at you. It was all hunger and lust and some impatience, but that was common. But no mockery. He wasn’t gearing up to make fun of your body cause he’s been waiting to see it. It was even better than he imagined, and he stopped a groan in his throat when you unclasped your bra and put it off to the side.

“Fuck…” He sighed out, squeezing his hard cock in his fist. You arched your back, which he initially enjoyed, until he realized your hand was moving to unzip the back of your skirt.

“Hey.” His harsh tone broke through, his free hand slapping your thigh. “Did I say take the skirt off?”

Your lips parted, and he jerked his head forward with a wide, frustrated gaze. It was as if he was saying “Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

He rolled his eyes as you shook your head no, and moved your hands away. He muttered under his breath and settled himself between your legs before deciding you weren’t close enough. His hands grasped your thighs to pull you closer, a surprised giggle bubbling in your chest from the action. He didn’t acknowledge it because he was trying to not let it show that it made him want to smirk. Just like when you get all teary-eyed. Or stomp your feet. Or finally get enough nerve to talk back. Even getting a giggle out of you made him smug, despite the fact that he had only ever seemed to enjoy making you miserable.

Eddie flips your skirt up onto your stomach, licking his lips at the sight of the light blue cotton panties he had already seen in the lunch line today. He finally tugged his jeans and boxers down below his balls, and started pumping his dick in his hand. Your nerves lit up at the sight of it—thick and with a bit of a curve to it. You wanted to see more of him, but the likelihood of that was slim to none. He enjoyed the control he had in this relationship, and that meant he liked having you almost completely naked in front of him while he was practically still dressed. He smirked as pre-cum beaded up on his tip and let it drip onto the fabric of your underwear. He dipped down to drag his tip along your covered slit to make a mess of your panties with his pre-cum. You inhaled sharply at the feeling, biting the inside of your lip whenever he nudged your clit.

“I like these panties…” You complained, knowing how much better it would be for him to ruin a pair of underwear you love.

“Aw…” He tutted, leaning over you as he mimicked the pout on your lips. “Don’t tell me that cause then I might have to cum all over them. ‘N I thought you wanted it inside.”

You mewled again, nodding your head which he mimicked too. The little shake of your head, the sound you made.

“Such a whiny, needy girl.” He said as if he cared. He hooked a finger under your panties and tugged at them, fighting the fabric over your legs one handed before holding them up to his nose. His eyes were trained on the sight of your sopping pussy as he breathed in, his cock twitching in his fist. He cursed under his breath, only pulling the fisted cloth away to stuff into his back pocket. His now free hand moved forward to drag his fingers through your slit, proud to feel how soaked and puffy you were already.

“You a virgin, doll?” He purred, tilting his head with a sickeningly sweet grin, the curled corners of his lips devilish. It was saccharine and mean. He figured you’d say yes because no one at school seemed to want you, but then you shook your head.

You lost your virginity at that summer camp you were at in the picture he was ogling earlier. It was awkward and felt strange, and you didn’t have much experience beyond that, but you weren’t a virgin. You thought he’d like you better this way anyways, already ready for him to fuck, but it ticked him off.

“No?” He asked, pushing two thick fingers into your cunt and making you gasp. The pressure on that sweet spot right at your entrance was buzzing with pleasure, but it still ached a little. “Guess you’re the little slut I always thought you were, hm?”

He was pushing his fingers in deep and curling them up into that spongy spot that made you whine and your thighs tremble.

“Who is he?” Eddie urged, his expression back to the irritation you were familiar with. You weren’t answering, all of your focus on his thick fingers and the rings that adorned them pinching the edge of your entrance.

“Who. Is. He?” He repeated, moving his face a bit closer to yours in bursts with every word, his head tilting to the left then to the right then back to the left to punctuate his words. He was slowing it down for you like you were dumb, and his fingers stopped moving—all of this making you huff.

“No one-“ You whine hopelessly, and he was starting to pull his hand away but you shot yours out to grip his wrist and keep his fingers deep between your legs. “No one, no one important.” You continued. “It was at summer camp, he’s not even from here. Please-“ you nearly sobbed, and it was enough to make the man groan as he leaned over you.

“Oh… please what, doll face?” He murmured, hand that had just been wrapped around his dick sinking the mattress down beside your head.

“Please- please don’t stop.” You whimper softly and he smiles sweetly down at you while pulling his hand away anyways. It was just for a second, enough to make you want to cry, but then he was plunging them back into your fluttering hole again. He added a third finger, barely giving you even enough time to enjoy the first two, the stretch making your lips part a little.

“God, you’re desperate.” He snorted, his hand angling a bit differently to let his thumb catch your clit. He watched with pride as your head tilted back and your back arched. Your thighs kept twitching and your walls were clamping down around his fingers more and more—he could tell you were close.

“Eddie…” You drawled, breath catching as your body braced itself for the mind-altering pleasure of your orgasm, but just as you approached the top—he pulled his hand away. You let out a distressed cry that made him laugh. He cooed at you, his hand that had been pumping his cock moving to rest on your cheek. Knowing where it had been made it even better, made it filthier. It made you wonder how many times he had just touched his dick before touching you.

“That’s for letting some random loser fuck you.” He whispered after leaning down so close that his nose was occasionally brushing against yours.

“‘m sorry…” You whine, tears of pleasure and pain having already slid down from your eyes and back towards your ears—leaving your hair damp and cold.

“You’re sorry, what?” He urged, nudging his tip against your folds.

“I’m sorry I let someone else take my virginity.” You were a blubbering mess, teary-eyed and needy.

“You’re gonna make up for it, though, right?” He purred, his tip already pressing into you and you nodded enthusiastically with a cry, your hips twitching forward.

“That’s my girl.”

Your lips parted, your lower lip quivering when he pushed into you until his hips were flush with your ass. You let out a sort of choked whimper and he groaned.

“Fuck you’re tight…” He sighed with content, sliding back before sinking back in until his tip was kissing your cervix. “Not even a virgin and I’m still gonna have to work to split this cunt open, huh?”

He was grinning again over that, over the grip your walls had on him from such a foreign stretch. It ached in the best way possible except for the occasional thrust that pinched and made you yelp out a small “ow.”

“S-so big… you’re so big…” You babble, your mind fuzzy. Your pupils were all blown out and you watched him fuck into you like it was the best dream you ever had. You eventually tilt your head back, letting out a happy hum as your hips push outward to feel him as deeply and as harshly as possible. He mimicked the sounds you made and the expressions you made from his thick cock hitting all the right places and stretching you enough that you knew you were going to be sore. All day tomorrow you were going to get brief pangs of aching that would remind you of how full you were of Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was all you could focus on, and you didn’t even realize you had been whimpering his name over and over under your breath until he made fun of you for it.

“Fuck you.” You huffed defensively, only for his amusement to bolster.

“Ha!” He cackled right in your face as you looked up at him with glossy eyes, pink cheeks and pouty lips. “Already are, sweetheart.”

Soon enough your sounds annoyed him though, especially the more demanding they got. Harder. Faster. Slower. More. Please. So he flipped you over onto your stomach and had his hand on your head to press your cheek into the mattress as he mounted you again—all with a casual “God, just shut up.”

At this new angle he was driving into you with a force that reverberated throughout your whole body every time he slammed into your cervix or that gushy part of you. You felt dizzy and breathless, every stroke of his cock against your ridged walls shooting off sparks. After being so close just from his hand to now, you were steadily approaching an orgasm again—just praying he’d let you keep it this time. He must’ve noticed because his free hand was reaching down to rub your clit. Your eyelids fluttered, a sob being muffled by the comforter you were biting down on. The sound of skin smacking, the tired springs of your bed squeaking, Eddie’s panting and grunting, the chain of his wallet clinking every now and then, the wet and pornographic sound of his cock plunging in and out of your pussy—it all seemed so loud for a second and then felt muffled the next as you came undone around him. You moaned out his name, whimpering cries on the tail end. You could feel your walls fluttering around him, clamping down and then blossoming back open then clamping down again in a mind-swirling rhythm.

“That’s a good girl…” He purred in a way that might’ve been too sweet from him if it wasn’t laced with a condescending tone. “Gonna cum in you, ‘kay?”

“Uh-huh-“ You moan, body aching as he picks up the pace again, fingers tangled in your hair with a painful grip. You can’t see him, but his head is tilted back completely blissed out as he fucks into you. You felt amazing, even better than he imagined which was pretty damn astonishing considering the pedestal he already had your pussy on in his imagination. He was so close, and a brief thought of getting you pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. He was mean. So fucking mean. That was the most devious thing he could do. Fill you up and make you all round with his kid.

“Shit-“ He pants out. “Gonna fill you up, babe.”

“Please-“ You beg, pulling an incredulous chuckle from him.

“Such a good girl… always take everything I give her.” He breathes out, leaning down to trap your body between him and your bed, his hand moving your hair away from your face. “Takes everything I give her at school, and she’s gonna take everything I give her in her bed, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, please-“ You sob, gasping out with the next few sharp thrusts against you until there was this warm feeling blooming inside you as he groaned against your back. He gave a few more thrusts after cumming inside, letting out happy puffs of air. You remembered how content that guy was when he unloaded into his condom inside you in camp. That blissful look on his face before he pecked your lips then lied next to you. Eddie didn’t bother with a condom, didn’t press a little peck to your lips and he wasn’t so quick to pull out either. When you squirmed a little he shifted so he was pushed up deeper into you, pulling a gasp from you which made him smirk against your skin.

Eventually he leaned up to bite your shoulder and then he slid out of you. You were still a little out of it, purring out a whiny hum as you nuzzled your quilt. Your legs were still spread and slightly bent up while you laid there on your stomach, and as he adjusted his softening dick back into his boxers he saw his cum slowly started to seep out of you and onto your comforter. Ever the gentleman, once his pants were zipped back up and his belt was buckled he landed his palm on your ass cheek and turned you over as you huffed over the action.

“See you Monday.”

“But we… we have to…” You fought to find your words through the haze. Study. You had to study.

“Bye, doll face!” He called out as he made his way downstairs.

You pouted a little, wanting to beg him to come back and stay with you. Maybe even go another round, but you were so spent that you just laid there.

When you got your energy back enough to force you to get up, you went to pee and clean yourself up before heading downstairs. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you made your way over to your backpack and you spotted the writing on the time sheet. A smile tugged at your lips. Instead of the date he wrote his phone number, and for the synopsis of today’s tutoring session he wrote “sex ed” with a winky face, and then signed where he was supposed to.

God, you were so fucked. And you were going to need a new time sheet.

#eddie munson smut #mean!eddie munson #bully!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut

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shiny-jr · 2 months

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Hi! I noticed that your requests were open and I love the way you write Malleus so I was hoping you would do yandere malleus x reader. where the reader knows twisted wonderland is a game (but not imposter au pls) and after they got isekia'd are trying to stop the overblots from happening and malleus is just terrified for them. Idk just an idea I've had for awhile but never found a fanfic like lol. Obviously it's totally fine if you don't want to do it or if I accidentally broke a rule. Anyway remember to drink some water and take a break if needed! Have a amazing rest of your day/night!!

Warning: Yandere (not really, not at all). Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Malleus Draconia.

Summary: MC sees affection meters and it's not good.

Note: These are mainly thoughts and random words my mind spewed out.

How did one claim victory at a game? Well, it entirely depended on the game, the mechanics and the options. It should've been impossible to lose a mobile game that was primarily composed of the gacha mechanism and visual novels.

When you suddenly found yourself in the series of twisted villains in a prestigious school of magic, you found that it was much more complex than it appeared on screen. Especially when only you could see these small bars occasionally floating above people's heads. Bars which you recognized as affection meters, nearly all of them stagnant at a dull gray 0% when you first arrived. This was the hurdle blocking your way to an easy victory. Because how else were you to escape the game, other than complete it?

Situations became messier, when you didn't have a dialogue options between two mere choices. Add making good impressions and keeping a character's favor, to the list of quests alongside avoiding death by inky overblotted characters. By some miracle, you had increased the affection of the characters you met and interacted with to a healthy 5% or 10%, sometimes more. At any cost you wished to avoid getting in the negatives, because you did not want to find out what would happen then.

Sometimes, the numbers would drop dangerously close to zero, mainly when an overblot was occuring. Never had you realized how the visual novel failed spectacularly at portraying the utter horror of the overblotted in all their wicked glory. The black inky darkness leaking from them like tears or blood with those crazed unhinged looks in their eyes–– was the stuff of pure nightmares.

And yet the one whose overblot you had been dreading the most, the dorm leader of Diasomnia, was surprisingly docile as you dealt with others. However, you knew even when conversing with him, that you would one day witness him overblot and look like some ethereal but deadly fallen angel. So mentally you prepared yourself, while taking on the task of keeping up appearances.

Malleus' affection meter, was a good 20% and a friendly pink shade, quite the accomplishment you were proud of, considering the majority of the cast wasn't even at 15%. The Draconia heir was certainly someone you never wanted to see reach below zero, so you did your absolute best to appeal to him, even if he was quite intimidating at first with the way he stoically watched you complain about the least of your worries, homework and classes.

By the time you spoke to him about your troubles with the Ramshackle dorm and Azul, during what you knew was the Octavinelle arc, the prince's affection had sprouted to a 22%. When you went into more detail of the potential loss you could face, it went to 23%.

The next time you saw him, you were weary and antsy since witnessing Azul's break-down. If the blot of his tears had the magic to gather, it would've been enough to drown, you were sure of it. Even by that maniac look in his eyes, you're sure he would've purposely drowned you if he got close enough.

Throughout that charlatan's chapter, his affection meter had slowly been rising, dropping during the overblot like the tides only to rise once again by the end to a good 45%. This was good!

But no matter how much you may have pondered, strategized, or try to predict each next action, you could've never guessed that the next time you saw Malleus after Azul's overblot, his expression taut with concern, his affection meter had made a jump to 55% and turned red. This entire time you had been avoiding the negatives, but you never once worried of the dangers and implications a red affection meter above 50% would mean for you. Or heaven forbid, anything close to 100%.

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #yandere malleus draconia

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emphistic · 1 month

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Sukuna Headcanons

a/n: this is from the same universe in my Boy Nextdoor Series, in this drabble yuuji is sukuna's baby brother, i mightve gotten a bit carried away while writing this

@starlets-things PS: idk if you wanted me to tag you in a part two of "Buttface", or just another part of my Boy Nextdoor Series (example: being part of a tag list), pls lmk though

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK

(REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

These are mostly pre-relationship hcs (post-relationship hcs are towards the end of this post)

Neighbor!Sukuna who hangs out at your house constantly, whether it be for studying, playing a game, or having your weekly movie night, he's there almost 24/7

Neighbor!Sukuna who would always force you to partner up with him whenever a group project was assigned; he always played it off as "I'm just using you to get a good grade" — which is a total lie if you haven't caught on yet

Neighbor!Sukuna who discovered his love for whenever you played with his hair when you pushed him into the pool and had to blow-dry his hair as recompense

Neighbor!Sukuna who sometimes forgets that his friends were supposed to come over when you were already at his house

Neighbor!Sukuna who constantly teases you for the height difference between you and him

Neighbor!Sukuna who always walks you to class, even if it means being late to his [own classes]

Neighbor!Sukuna who, without a doubt, hates your friends, like absolutely despises them — this is because he doesn't like the fact that they take your attention away from him

Neighbor!Sukuna who has a hate and love relationship whenever you come over to babysit his brother when he's busy at basketball practice or something — he loves having you over at his house, but he hates that he has to miss seeing your smile and hearing your voice

Neighbor!Sukuna who never listens during class because he's always staring at you

You turned your head around to be faced with a surprised Sukuna. "Hey. Stop staring at me, Freak."

Sukuna would always roll his eyes at that, denying the accusation, but you knew the truth, though — and so did your whole class, maybe even the whole school too, your teachers included

Neighbor!Sukuna who gets on your nerves on purpose because he is obsessed, utterly infatuated with the cute face you make whenever you're mad

He thinks you're adorable when you're upset, especially when the cause is him

Neighbor!Sukuna who sometimes makes you a little too angry, resulting in detention for the both of you — however, he doesn't mind the extra time he gets to spend with you

Post-establishedrelationship hcs:

Neighbor!Sukuna who always shuts you up with a kiss whenever he thinks you talk too much (he is a little mean, yes)

Neighbor!Sukuna who can't stand when other people are talking to you

Neighbor!Sukuna who always has to be touching you one way or another — whether that be a hand around your shoulder, hand on your waist, or even your hand wrapped around his bicep/arm, sometimes he doesn't even realize he has a hand on you, it's just become instinct now

Neighbor!Sukuna who kicks the back of your knee when he wants you to stop talking to someone, and talk to him instead

Neighbor!Sukuna who forces you to wear his jersey whenever he has a game; he loves seeing his last name on your back — he always points you out in a crowd to his teammates

"See that pretty girl over there? Yeah, that's mine."

Neighbor!Sukuna who can't resist slapping your ass whenever you walk past; it's become a natural instinct at this point

Neighbor!Sukuna who is actually super clingy, but he'll never admit that; he'll spam you with nonstop calls and texts just to ignore you when you do eventually respond

Neighbor!Sukuna who can't fall asleep without you beside him in bed

Neighbor!Sukuna who loves when you kiss him on the cheek — he doesn't even know why, he just thinks it feels more intimate than an actual kiss on the lips

Neighbor!Sukuna who always carries your bag

Neighbor!Sukuna who rarely gets sick, but sometimes gets sick on purpose just to have you take care of him

Neighbor!Sukuna who would always kiss you, even if you were sick

Neighbor!Sukuna who pretends not to pay your guys' dinner bill but actually sneaks the money into your purse after you go to sleep

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna headcanons #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #sukuna fluff #this is so ooc but its adorable so whatever

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golden-barnes · 2 years

Text

Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad. {wc: 2.2k}

Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure but not that much, Karen parent being annoying, bucky is a fool but amaya is gonna fixed it.

a/n: I've been sitting on this for months but I had to step back from this account bc of everything. thankfully I finished this before my electricity went puff but not my best job. pls have mercy bc I'm rusty.

Part 2

Bucky knew there weren’t many male first-grade teachers. But honestly, it was his dream job. He was teaching the country's future and helping them become better people.

Also, 6-year-olds love him, especially with his fantasy land classroom he forced Steve to help decorate. Bucky loved being a teacher, and he loved his kids. Relatively easy to get up every day at 6 am when you love your job.

That being said, he knows he shouldn’t have a favorite student. So it’s basically written in the teacher’s rule book.

But Amaya was undoubtedly his favorite of his unruly kids. She was very spirited. Amaya loved helping out her classmates and talking to them. She was just the best student he had ever had.

She is amusing. Every day she comes to him with a story about her mom. Unfortunately, Bucky hadn't met her yet because she was busy with work. Still, he interacted with Amaya’s second contact, Natasha.

At this point, Bucky feels like he knows her. How she likes tulips. Her favorite color is pink, which is Amaya’s favorite, but that’s a funny coincidence. He knows that Amaya and her mom go to the museum every week on the day they have special events for kids. Amaya’s favorite exhibit is the one about mythical creatures.

“Momma likes the one with the paintings. She likes the one with the man who gives the girl a flower.” Amaya tells Bucky. Amaya always goes to Bucky’s desk after finishing her classwork because if she doesn’t, she distracts her classmates. Or give her classmates the answers, so this is the only way to keep her entertained. She always takes this time to draw something for Bucky to hang on his wall of drawings.

“Oh, Mister Bucky! Momma is going to come to pick me up today.” Bucky cursed mentally, completely forgetting today was parent-teacher conference.

Talking to 6-year-olds was a lot easier than talking to adults. Especially when you are telling parents that their kids are having problems. The worst part of the job, honestly. If Bucky could just teach his kids, send letters to the parents, and never interact with them, he would.

“Going to meet the elusive Miss (Y/N)?” Steve, his best friend, asked. Because of budget cuts, Steve was currently the art teacher for the entire school. Did he like it? Probably not having the kindergarteners put glitter in his hair, but he enjoyed a challenge.

“Apparently,” Bucky mumbled, opening his lunch. Just a ham and cheese sandwich because he was running late.

“She finally showing up to a conference?” Sam asked, heating up his lunch. Sam was the history teacher for the 4th and 5th graders. He was also a pain in Bucky’s ass, but he decided not to think about it and focused on his incoming stomach ache.

Fuck, now Bucky had to clean his classroom and prepare everything. What if one of those Karen parents shows up and starts complaining about stupid things? About how his classroom is Lord of the Rings theme and how that's bad for kids? Maybe about how he’s a male teacher? He is already spiraling.

“Oh, you are talking about Amaya’s mom? I met her when I was Amaya’s kindergarten teacher. She’s really nice and - “ Wanda started talking but was interrupted by her twin brother Pietro, the gym teacher.

“She is also smoking hot. Like ultimate Milf in this whole school. ” He comments, which makes Bucky feel even worse because how will he talk with a pretty girl? He hasn’t done that since college.

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother and sat down next to Steve to eat her lunch.

“You’ll be great though, Barnes. She’s really nice, and you are a great teacher, so you won’t have any problems with her.” Wanda reassures her coworker. Bucky takes a deep breath and takes another bite off his sandwich.

“And I still believe my son should be seated in the front.” Mrs. Robinson complained, which she had been doing for the past hour and a half. Going past the hour dialogue they are supposed to be having. But since Amaya’s mom is running late.

“Mrs. Robinson, I understand, but some kids in the classroom require specific accommodations. Because of that, the entire front row is taken. So I can’t sit Tommy in the front. “ Bucky explained for the 10th time. Mrs. Robinson just rolled her eyes and huffed.

Before she could complain again, someone knocked on the door. A woman in formal and professional clothing stepped into the classroom. Amaya popped into the classroom with the brightest smile.

“Mister Bucky! I brought Momma!” She screamed excitedly. Amaya’s mom tried to quiet her, but from Bucky’s experience, Amaya is impossible to corral.

“Well, Mrs. Robinson, my 4 o'clock is here.” Bucky said nervously, trying to politely kick out Mrs. Robinson and her big-ass attitude.

“We could discuss this further in another parent-teacher conference.” It took everything for Bucky not to roll his eyes. Fucking self-observed parents think their children are the only ones that matter, Bucky thinks to himself.

“Sorry for my tardiness; I got held up at work.” Amaya’s mom apologizes. Woah, she really is pretty, Bucky thinks.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” Bucky says, trying to catch his breath.

“Please call me (Y/N).” She smiled sweetly at Bucky. Bucky gulped.

“Let me get to the point; Amaya is a fantastic student. One of the best. She is above her group’s reading level. She writes pretty clearly for her age. No complaints from me; whatever you are doing at home is workin’.” Bucky explained, (Y/N) smiling at her daughter, who was too entertained with Bucky’s snowball on his desk.

“Thank you, but I can’t take that much credit. Maya absolutely adores you.” Bucky blushes at her praise.

“She’s a good kid; it’s easy to teach kids like her.” Bucky praised Amaya, who was surprisingly quiet. Which would scare Bucky because if there’s one thing he learned from teaching first graders is that quiet means trouble. But he dismissed it because she wouldn’t do anything wild with her mom right next to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for everything. With getting a new job and having to provide for my family, you’ve literally given me so much peace.” (Y/N) leaned in closer.

“If I am being honest, I was worried about ‘Maya’s performance at school. “ She whispered, but Bucky gave her a reassuring smile.

“Amaya, could you please give these papers to Mr. Rogers?” Amaya nodded and grabbed the papers Bucky had handed her. Then, Bucky sent a text to Steve telling him to keep Amaya out of his classroom to talk to her mom.

“I haven’t noticed a difference in her behavior if that makes you feel any better,” Bucky reassured her. She sighed.

“I am worried about her. Ever since she was born, her dad has been in and out of her life. Now he has disappeared for good. Amaya has been acting like it doesn’t bother her, but no first grader should hide their feelings.” She confesses. Bucky wants to do two things. 1) kick Amaya’s father for being a piece of shit and abandoning such a precious child and her mom. And 2) himself for getting excited by hearing that (Y/N) is single. He can already hear his mother chastising him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that (Y/N).” Bucky said earnestly. She just shook her head.

“It’s okay. Any advice for me?” She said in a joking tone, trying to alleviate the tension. Bucky lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Just keep being there. In my experience, being present and making the child feel like they have a support system is the best way to help them during this difficult time.” Bucky smiled at her.

“Thank you. See you on Monday?” (Y/N) said, getting up from her chair.

“Yes. Definitely.” Bucky felt his heart beating at a faster pace.

This school year was definitely going to be interesting. So Bucky thinks, watching Y/N walking out of his classroom.

What Bucky doesn’t know is that Amaya plans to make life more enjoyable. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she heard Auntie Tasha’s voice and decided to say hi.

“Nat, you could’ve warned me, you know!” (Y/N) explained. Natasha laughed, handing her best friend a glass of wine.

“He is hot, isn't he?” Natasha grins. Amaya looked at her mom, who had a goofy smile. She has never seen her mom with a smile like that.

“Ridiculously hot. And his eyes? Nat, his eyes are just so gray. I almost spilled my entire life story right there and then.” (Y/N) groans. Natasha just laughs.

“It should be illegal to have a first-grade teacher look that hot.” (Y/N) added, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Just wait till you see him in casual Fridays. That man looks excellent in a Henley. “ Natasha joked, but that seemed to disturb (Y/N) even more. “Look out ‘Maya you might have a new daddy.”

What auntie Tasha said made Amaya think. Mister Bucky was her favorite teacher, and she wished her momma would be happy. Them together would mean that she would have Mister Bucky around forever, and Momma would be happy and have a goofy smile like that forever.

That’s when Operation get Mr. Bucky and Momma together was born.

Every day after finishing her classwork, Amaya would go to Bucky’s desk and talk to him. Most of the things she said were little seeds to push him to get close to her mom.

Today was different; Amaya’s patience was thinning. A week passed, and every day when her mom would pick her up, she saw the googly eyes her mom and Mister Bucky were giving each other. It’s time for the big guns, Amaya thought.

“Mister Bucky, do you have a dad?” Buck was shocked at Amaya’s question.

“Yes, I do.” Amaya sighed dramatically after hearing Bucky’s answer.

“I don’t… I wish I knew what that was like.” Bucky’s heart broke hearing that. Amaya had her head down, but Bucky couldn’t see her smirk.

“You will one day. I promise.” Bucky knew he shouldn’t say that but wanted to uplift her and give her hope.

“Hey, Mister Bucky, maybe you could be my dad!” Amaya said, doing a complete 180 in her demeanor. Bucky almost spits out his coffee, and he starts to cough. But unfortunately, he fell right into Amaya’s trap.

“I don’t know about that, Amaya,” Amaya smirks.

“But Mister Bucky, momma already likes you. You would be a great dad.” Was it embarrassing for Bucky that his 6-year-old student was trying to hook him up with her mom? Maybe but hearing that said mom liked him did give him a bit of an ego.

“Really?” Amaya nodded enthusiastically.

“She said that she really likes your eyes.” Amaya admitted. Bucky knew he shouldn’t be asking these questions. If Sam knew, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Is there anything else she said?” Bucky asked, acting casually as if a 6-year-old was gonna read his body language. However, Amaya is too smart for her own good.

“I heard her telling Auntie Jen that she liked it when you wear red shirts.” Bucky made a note to buy more red shirts after school.

“Is your mom going to pick you up today?” Bucky asked; Amaya nodded.

“She said we were going to the mall today,” Amaya explained. She could feel her plan working, but who knows? Grown-ups were weird.

Bucky’s heart needs to catch a break. That being said, seeing (Y/N) every afternoon, his poor heart won't be getting any. Especially when she came in with her lawyer suits. It was like a punch in the gut.

But what really hit him like a punch in the gut was what Amaya said when her mom came to pick her up.

She grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards her mom, who was waiting outside the classroom.

“Momma, Bucky said he would be my daddy.” Amaya said with the biggest grin. Bucky choked on his own saliva and started coughing. While (Y/N) just started laughing.

“Did he now?” (Y/N) asked her daughter, that was excited that her plan “worked.”

“I- uhm. I didn’t say that she took it out of context. But, I mean- I” Bucky’s ramble was interrupted by (Y/N).

“It’s okay, Mr. Barnes. I know how Amaya can be. Don’t worry.” Bucky sighed out of relief.

“Mommaaaaa…” Amaya whined; her mom just rolled her eyes.

“Yes, ‘Maya?” (Y/N) asked in a snarky tone. Amaya signaled to her to lean down. Amaya whispered something to her. (Y/N) giggled with her daughter.

“Mr. Barnes, would you like to go out for coffee someday?” (Y/N) asked, Amaya still giggling behind her mom.

“I would love to.” Bucky said, which caused Amaya to do a little victory dance in the back. As if nobody could see her. (Y/N) turned around and laughed at her daughter’s antics. She pulled something out of her jacket, a piece of paper.

“I have to go, Mr. Barnes. Sorry for my little troublemaker.”She said, handing him the piece of paper with her personal phone number. Bucky was confused.

“What is this for?” Bucky asked, utterly confused about what this meant.

“For whenever you would like to get that cup of coffee.” She told him, grabbing Amaya’s hand and walking towards his card.

Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. He might admit that Amaya was his favorite student, even if she played matchmaker.

He looked down at the card. Oh, he is gonna call.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #imagine bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

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leonasimp · 1 year

Text

❥ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦!

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: all dorm members x crush reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: slightly suggestive on leona's part, not proofread

𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚: i have homecoming tuesday so i decided to do it with the twst! plus reader's pronouns aren't stated!

After losing another yearly tournament with RSA, the headmage and staff had decided to throw a homecoming dance!

This being your first NRC homecoming, you wondered how great it'll be.

Walking through the hallways to go back to your dorm, you're oblivious to what the twst boys have in store.

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬:

he would probably ask you to be his homecoming date in the rose garden

will give you a single red rose

his face will be as red as the rose

i think this would be his first school dance because he was homeschooled

at homecoming, he would be blushing the whole time and uses his signature spell on anyone (ace) who teases him

he's really good at slow dancing!

while being your date, he also supervises to make sure no one is breaking rules

i feel like he'll work up the courage and kiss your knuckles

"Thank you for being my date to the dance, Prefect. This is both our first dance so I hope this will be a great experience for the both of us."

𝐀𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚:

he'd probably ask as soon as he knows about it

wants to do it before deuce

he will blush if you actually are willing then would be smug about it

at homecoming, he'll look really formal

laughs at couples yet acts coupley towards you

there's never a moment where you aren't on the dance floor either dancing crazily to songs or embarrassingly trying to slow dance

teases you a lot during it although deep down, he's shy.

you guy will probably tell the dj to play an inappropriate song LMAO

riddle won't be happy!

"ew, yuck! look at those losers over there, all sucking each other's faces. HA, that's hil-...WHAT- i never even tried to kiss you tonight! pfffttttttt."

𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞:

he'd be a blushing mess!

he'd accidentally confess his feelings too :0

mans asked his mom for help and will end up getting you a bouquet of flowers

at homecoming, he's so awkward and tense but it's cute

he's also a gentleman and will willingly beat up anyone who tries to steal his date away

he will be so shy while slow dancing too, he just knows that ace is somewhere laughing and filming him

you'll definitely will have to take the lead

pls don't laugh if he steps on your foot, he's trying :(

i think by the time the dance ends, he'll give you a little kiss on the forehead

100% calls his mom and tells her EVERYTHING

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝:

will 100% film himself asking you and your reaction

i feel like he'll be standing with a huge cringe poster that has a pun line to ask you to homecoming!

he'll help you with your dress/suit and getting ready. you guys are matching

his magicam will be FILLED with videos and pictures of the dance with 98% of them being you.

you'll never be bored at all the whole time and you'll have so much confidence with him!

slow dancing will be comfortable and nice yet he'll probably be a little shy

"WOAH! Look at my amazing date, go prefect! #dancingprefect #nrchomecoming #caycaysdate."

𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫:

i think he'd be really cringe about it

like he'll say a dad joke and ask you to the homecoming LMAO

during homecoming, he's a gentleman

he'll even pay for yummy snacks and drinks

probably a secret dancer, i think he'll dance pretty good

he'll crack jokes and he'll laugh if you fall while dancing but then help you up

the slow dances good? it'll probably be so romantic then he'll crack a dad joke---

"my dad jokes aren't that bad. these dance jokes really get you in the rhythm..hahaha that was the last one. yes! i promise."

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫:

probably wouldn't ask you to be his date until you're at the dance. like he'll be sleeping outside the gymnasium and get jealous at some dudes trying to dance with you or ruggie will make him do it

mans will look so fine like damn

he's great at dancing, esp slow dancing

i wonder if he'll hold you close to his chest while you dance

100% a tease the whole time and will definitely kiss your face or hand

he'll be smug with that mf smirk

will show you off to everyone

ruggie will tease him and you, probably will film to get blackmail

by the end of your night, you guys will sneak off to the botanical garden and cuddle or more :0 <3

"no one'll notice if ya ditch, cmon herbivore. let loose, will ya? it ain't nice to reject a prince. "

𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢:

he'll get you a bouquet of freshly picked dandelions. they don't look REALLY pretty but it's the thought that counts :(<3

he'll play it off cool while asking you but is freaking out

during homecoming, he's probably wearing one of leona's suits or one of his own which probably has a few holes in it but he looks very good

you guys will always be near the food and you'll probably have to be on look out while ruggie steals snacks

i bet ruggie is a really good dancer but when it comes to slow dancing, he isn't all that good

he'll be shy and might step on your feet LMAO but he's cute so it's okay

"Oi, mc! come stand guard while i grab these slices of pizza for us!"

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥:

i feel like he'll ask you and play it off as him not wanting you to be the only one without a date but he just really wants to go with you

he'll be wicked shy asking you and during homecoming but will play it cool, esp in front of the first years

his tail will never stop wagging like he'll be such a happy bby

i think he may be good at slow dancing

he'll growl at anyone who looks at you badly or hungrily too so yay

"hey, wanna go to the homecoming? the others seem to have found dates so i didn't want you to be alone."

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨:

he'll be panicking to ask you out. before he can ask you out, floyd will probably say something about him wanting you to be his homecoming date

during homecoming, he'll look very clean and formal yet he'll be panicking. dw, he'll loosen up throughout the night

slow dances will be good, i feel like he'll be MARVELOUS at slow dancing

he will NOT let you waste your money or his on the snacks and drinks there. instead, he'll make you guys go to the mostro lounge and have stuff there

"oh prefect, why spend your money on these things when you can get free luxury at the mostro lounge?"

𝐉𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡:

he'll get your favorite snack and ask you out

a huge smile will be his face while he asks and at the homecoming

he'll be such a gentleman the whole time

100% will call you things like darling, love, etc.

he's a good slower dancer and will caress your back and HAUHDBDHDO

i bet he'll give you a little smooch the forehead just to see you get flustered

you guys probably sneaked to the bathroom and ate mushrooms (good or bad ones, you decide)

"fufu, you're quite adorable when you blush, darling."

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡:

once he heard about the dance, you were already his date. you got no choice cuz mans will cling onto you

he's the life of the party so you'll never be bored the whole time

why do i feel like he'll show up with an animal print suit?

he'll be clinging onto you the whole time

if he has mood swings, just do a goofy dance and give him kisses then he'll be fine

if you attempt to slow dance, it's just floyd picking you up and swaying you.

"shrimpy~! i love this song! let's go back to the dance floor!...nono! food can wait, we gotta dance!"

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐀𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦:

he'll have jamil help him through a huge party to ask you

you guys will have such a fun time but always remember that jamil is watching

he'll be so excited over the littlest things

sm compliments and he'll probably give you some jewelry to go with your dress/suit

slow dancing is so cute with him. he doesn't really know how to do it but every time you guys mess up, you both will burst out in laughter.

"mc this is amazing! are you having fun? im having fun! yay, what should we do next?"

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫:

kalim would 100% help him ask you out whenever that'll be him accidentally saying something or forcing you two to go together!

you'd have to remind him that he is supposed to relax and not look after kalim

he'll make sure you drink and eat enough

he's a great dancer so try and keep up with him LMAO

he's great at slow dancing but will blush obv

he'll be smiling too awhh

mans will 100% appreciate that you were able to make him relax for a few hours

"thank you mc for tonight. i don't normally relax like this so i appreciate it. you're a wonderful date."

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭:

he'll probably give you a whole thing of roses and shit then ask you out

he's a gentleman yass

now..there's no doubt that vil looks better than you. although he helped you get ready and everything, he still looks better. you just gotta deal with it

you guy will probably be the most popular date that night

he'll make sure you guys dont consume too much sugar

dancing with him is fun and you'll even get some dance tips and critics

slow dancing, he'll 100% take the lead and teach you

rook will be crying at how beautiful you guys are

"perfect! you're a natural already but just remember to keep your head up and be confident, prefect."

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭:

mans will go ALL out for asking. he'll stalk you and gain intel on your favorite stuff, write a love poem, and all that

when he sees you, non stop compliments. i think he'll even go far as to crying

he'll be the perfect gentleman and will always hold + kiss your hand

on the dance floor, he'll always be holding onto you and dancing

slow dancing, he's great! like it's really shocking at how good he is

"oui tricker! oh, you look so marvelous. this beauty is so overwhelming. look at me weep in your presence of beauty."

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫:

he'll be so shy while asking you but will act manly

probably will carve a heart out an apple

he'll look all pretty cuz vil dressed him up but once out of vil's side, he'll fix it up to his liking

he'll talk in his country accent with you

he's wild on the dance floor esp with cotton eye joe

slow dancing, he's so nervous and will act goofy about it but when vil glances at him, he'll be so serious about it

"pfftt, this is how y'all snobby rich folk dance? oh no, he's lookin' at us."

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝:

you're gonna be the one asking him out with the help of ortho

if you manage to convince him, you're gonna have to help him get ready

at the dance, he'll be so shy and scared but probably after some monster drinks, he'll be fine

you guys will probably sit all the way in the back of the bleachers and play games

if you manage to slow dance, his hair will turn pink as you both sway back and worth

"a-ahahah- d-d..do we have to be with the normies?"

𝐎𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 (𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜):

he'll probably find you sitting alone and ask you if he could accompany you

you can teach him how to dance and slow dance

he'll say you're pretty and proceed to try and make you dance with idia HELP

"mc! you look so pretty but you're sitting by yourself! would you like to try dancing? idia put a new code to make me dance good."

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚:

he'll ask lilia for help on trying to ask you. on one of your walks, he'll shyly ask you and will be so happy when you do. he'll tell lilia all about it when he gets back

you guys will be the most popular couple and it'll be a little overwhelming but great

he doesn't really know a lot of dances but when it comes to slow dancing, well, he is almost fae king. you'll take the whole dance floor away but also good luck with dancing cuz he's tall!

you'll probably end up leaving and going stargazing

he gives you little smooches on the forehead

"haha, child of man, stop giggling. im trying to give you a blessing!..no, im not just giving you a "smooch" on the forehead."

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞:

lilia will probably go the traditional route and get you some roses and ask you out formally

he's old so he knows a lot of dances but it's funny to watch and teach him modern dances from today

he's very great at slow dancing, he has had practice. will probably compete with malleus and his date for slow dancing

"fufu~ am i rocking it, like the kids say?"

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫:

he'll ask malleus and lilia how to ask you but will regret it cuz they'll tease him

i hope the loud music will keep him awake!

he's decent at dancing and is pretty great at slow dancing cuz he dances with his animal friends!

he's the number 1 gentleman for the night

he'll only blush when malleus and lilia tease him

"father, stop! mc is my date, we're just friends! no no! ah, please be quiet..ahh"

𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐙𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭:

im not sure how he'll be your date but you'll probably ask him to dance and you guys'll dance battle HELP

he'll see you worthy and will only be with you as long as the young master is in his sight

he'll laugh WICKED LOUD if you fall or step on his foot

if you're a malleus simp then that's good cuz that'll probably be your whole conversation

he wont seem like it but he's actually really happy to have you as a date

"you human! you seem rather decent in the midst of the dance battle, let us be partners at this dance."

4K notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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just-another-author-i-guess · 1 year

Note

Judd smut in Y/n's car? 😈

JUDD SMUT IN Y/N’S CAR !!!

Tags: fem! Reader, porn without plot, well I mean they talk like a little before they fuck, driving under the influence?, okay literally don’t do that pls idk why they did it in this fic, being low key inappropriate in front of kids, more weed smoking 🫶, judd has a HUGE HORSE COCK, he also degrades Y/n quite a bit, also like semi public sex??, it’s literally in a car, and once again very unprotected sex, PLEASE WRAP IT!!

Summary: they fuck in Y/n’s car after Judd got his taken away lmfao

Author’s note: SORRY this took me so long to write for some reason,, I hate school so much oml 😡 I was originally going to finish and post this yesterday but like then I got a bunch of unsolicited dick pics and I got scared and didn’t feel like writing smut anymore 🧍🏻🏃🏻‍♀️ anyways,, I’m back today and I’m fine, just traumatized. I love being a woman fr 💩

Judd smut in Y/n’s car

Word count; 3,9K

(smut under the cut)

Judd took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling most of it through his nose but having the decency to turn his head slightly and exhaling the rest through the barely opened window.

He flicked the burned tip out the window as well; cinder falling down and gathering in the cracks of where the window sat in the door.

“You drive like a fucking grandma— drive faster,” He instructed.

You didn’t turn your head from the road. “I’m actually driving exactly what the speed limit allows. Fuck off. “ You grumbled.

The two of you were on the way back from one of Judd’s deals, which you were almost late to because Judd decided to leave 10 minutes behind schedule, forgetting you had to drive and refused to go too far over the speed limit. The deal itself had been pretty uninteresting; you sat in the car and watched as Judd handed the guy a plastic back and he handed your boyfriend the money.

He got his car hijacked (parentsjacked) two weeks ago, because he got caught lighting an old building on fire. You were there too, actually, too drunk and stoned to care in the moment; but because Judd could be a pretty good boyfriend at times he covered up for you.

“Yeah. Whatever. I need at least one of us to have a car.” He said, when you asked him about it.

Immediately after, you had been prompted to Judd’s personal Uber. Not to mention he had to hide most of his,, not legal substances in the trunk of your car, hence why you were now even more adamant on following traffic rules as to not get pulled over by the cops.

(Or found out by your mom, who already wasn’t a very big fan of your boyfriend)

His raccoons had also made themselves at home in your backseat, at the moment the two of you were alone in the car but often there would be a couple of them napping in the back.

Judd grumbled something in response that you didn’t quite hear, but you retorted; “Shut the fuck up. Why can’t you just act like a passenger princess, or something,”

He opened and closed his mouth, cigarette hanging on his lips. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

You smiled a little. “That’s what you are, babe. You’re my passenger princess,”

Blinking slowly, he put the cigarette out in the ashtray he had placed between the front seats and stared at you blankly. “What the hell are you talking about? You think I look like a princess?” He was baffled.

You suppressed a chuckle, and turned your head quickly to gauge his reaction. “I forgot you’re too edgy to use tiktok,” You murmured. When you opened it on your phone, he would sometimes stand behind you and glare at the screen over your shoulder, but that was all the exposure he’d had to the app.

Judd frowned. “Why don’t you pull over and I’ll show you who the real fucking princess is.” It was half a threat, but none that you took too seriously.

“Oh, yeah? You’d have to pay extra for that, Uber drivers don’t normally fuck their costumers.” You answered coyly, but he didn’t find your quip nearly as funny as you did. You turned back to the road, making sure you weren’t about to run into any middle schoolers as you neared Bridgeton Middle School. Judd didn’t say anything– but you felt his large hand slither up your leg, enclosing around your thigh and squeezing the fat there softly.

He looked out the window to his side, refusing to grant you attention while he continued to massage your thigh; and glaring as you pulled into the parking lot. Judd had convinced you to skip school that day, so you could drive him to his stupid deal and you could smoke and get McDonald’s after. The first part of his plan went without a hitch, until you got incredibly high-horny and you ended up fucking in the bathroom at McDonald’s as well. Unfortunately, you had to leave sooner than intended; in a daze and desperate to sober up before you went and picked Jessi up from school. Coincidentally Nick as well, since, you know, Judd's parents took his car.

You parked and turned to Judd, crawling half over to his seat and forcing him to look at you. His glare lessened as he stared at your grinning face so close to his; leaning in. You kissed him softly once, then twice, then three times, giggling and pulling away whenever he chased you. He growled and the hand on your thigh went to your waist, he pulled you in and was just about to kiss you properly, forcefully and roughly when a series of knocks came to your window.

It was Jessi and Nick. You averted your head and let Judd kiss your cheek instead, gently pushing him back as you sat back down in your seat. You motioned for the two to come in.

Jessi opened the door, and allowed Nick to crawl inside first. “It smells like weed and junkfood in here.” She commented, a slight question in her statement as she crawled in, too, and closed the door behind her.

You turned your body halfway in your seat, coming to face her. “Sure.” You ignored her comment. “Had a good day at school?”

Both her and Nick nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Can you help me with some maths-stuff later?” She asked and you wrinkled your nose; Maths was not something you were particularly good at, but you nodded and agreed to help her anyways.

Judd’s hand returned to your thigh and you glanced at him– he was staring blankly at the kids, but he met your eyes with raised eyebrows, indicating he wanted something from you. You hummed. “Hey, Jessi, how about hanging out at Nick’s house for a while?” You looked to Nick, who flushed slightly and nodded in agreement.

Jessi’s mouth tightened as she looked at Nick, and then you. She new that when you asked her that, you really meant; “Hey, Jessi, it would be more convenient for me to drive straight to Judd’s house so we can fuck.”

“C’mon Jessi, we can watch a movie or something,” Nick added hopefully. You smiled, a bit tightly as you looked at Jessi and she reluctantly uncrossed her arms and agreed. “Okay, fine. But can we do that stupid biology assignment together then, instead?”

Nick agreed happily, and the two quickly got a rather animated conversation started. You drove out of the parking lot, Judd’s hand increasing in height on your thigh till he was toying with the hem of your skirt. You flushed, gently pushing his hand down a couple times so Jessi and Nick wouldn’t see, but it ultimately was a losing battle.

The two’s conversation turned to background noise as you drove towards your destination, as fast as you could; now way faster than the speed limit allowed. Judd’s incessant caress of your thigh made your heart beat so much faster and your finger’s grip the steering wheel so much tighter— you could feel him staring hungrily at you the whole time too, seizing you up with that small twitch of his lips that meant he was going to fuck you till your legs were jelly.

‘Step on that goddamn speeder, sugar! Look how he’s eyeing you.. like a big, hungry wolf,’ Connie’s claws locked around the back of your seat, and she moaned when his nails slightly scratched at your fishnets; lifting them and making them slap against your thigh.

You gasped, and sent him a glare that bordered on a sultry pout. “I can’t,” you muttered to Connie. “I’ll actually run someone over if I go any faster,”

Your monstress shook the seat harder. ‘They won’t mind giving up their life for some sweet, sweet lovemaking baby~’ She purred and you glanced at her briefly, with a scandalised expression.

“I really don’t think you should be saying stuff like that,” You retorted, focused on evening out your breathing from the slow teasing of Judd’s warm hand. Then he leaned in, squeezing your thigh in a death grip and placed a long, slow kiss under your jaw

“You changed your mind about fucking your Uber costumer yet?” He drawled, deep voice dragging a whispering growl all the way up your spine.

You shivered. “I think I have,” you breathed back and felt him smile triumphantly against your neck.

He cackled darkly. “Good. You better drop the fucking attitude,” Then, he snapped your fishnets again, watching as thin, red lines appeared on your thigh.

Connie moaned loudly again, fanning her hands in front of her face before dramatically laying down on the floor of the car, between the front and back seats.

“Ew. Can you two not?” That time it was Nick speaking, arms crossed over his chest.

Jessi nodded in agreement; her gaze was locked on where Judd was touching your thigh, burning into you. Your boyfriend in question slowly retreated his hand, half turning in his seat to glare dissatisfied at your two passengers.

Nick shifted uncomfortably and whatever insult he had died on his tongue. “What? Are you fucking jealous or something?” He sneered.

The younger shrugged and looked away. “No.”

Judd grunted, gravely and deeply. “It’s not my fault you can’t get your little prick wet,” He wiggled his pinky finger for emphasis.

You failed to hold back a giggle and gently slapped his arm. “Don’t tell thirteen-year-olds to have sex, you ass,” You scolded, halfheartedly through and smiled as you came to a stop in front of the birch house.

“Okay, get out you two!” You called over your shoulder. “We’ll be right in— I’m just gonna park.” You bluffed, and didn’t miss the way Jessi rolled her eyes at you as she slammed the car door behind her.

Connie rose from the floor to sit in the middle seat in the back. ‘Yeah, park Judd’s dick right in your pussy!’ She drawled, making obscene gestures with her hands.

Judd was quick to point you to a nearby parking spot, concealed a bit by a willow tree with low-hanging branches. As soon as you were parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and Judd was reaching for you.

He pulled you to him by your waist— settling you down over his lap, straddling him. You whimpered as you felt him against you, already straining in his pants. He grabbed greedy handfuls of your ass with one hand, having the other settle on the back of your neck and pulling your hair. He held your head in an iron grip, making sure you wouldn’t avoid his kiss this time around.

Then, he kissed you. Roughly, deeply, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly. You mewled as he bit your lower lip, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers gently pulling on the short hairs at the back of his head.

You were already moving your hips, without thinking about it and he wasted no time in aiding you; thrusting upwards while holding your hips down and helping you rock back and forth.

You were already quite sensitive from your earlier rough fuck in the McDonald’s bathroom, your clit swelled and started twitching almost instantly. The rough drag of denim on your panties was almost too much, but the sloshing of warmth in your lower belly kept you going— rutting yourself harder against him.

He moved from your lips, you let out a soft, whiny sigh. “You wanted it that bad, huh? You’re already so fuck-drunk,” He commented, that wicked smile pulling at his lips. He squeezed your asscheek hard. “Up.” He instructed, and shakily, you lifted yourself up to stand on your knees instead of sitting on him.

You held his shoulders for support, definitely not expecting him to bring both his hands under your skirt and roughly ripping your fishnets apart right under your pussy. He let them rip all the way down your thighs and you looked at him wide-eyed.

“I’ll get you new ones, baby.” He grinned, a bit coyly as he pushed your panties aside. His cold fingers gently brushed your folds and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about your ruined tights. Your breathing hitched and you desperately bucked your hips, trying to get him to touch you further.

His other hand returned to your hip, to hold it in place and keep you from rutting yourself against his fingers. He gave a warning growl, brows drawing together as he concentrated on the task at hand. He teased your folds apart with his pointer, feeling how warm and wet you already were. You were pulsing, almost, starting to clench before his fingers even entered.

“Judd—“ You moaned. “Do— do something.” You pleaded with him.

Connie was going crazy behind you as well, both her and Maury were sitting in the backseat contributing to an animated conversation. Your monstress shook Maury by the shoulders, yelling at him to get Judd to do anything.

‘C’mon! Fist her already!’ Maury roared, kicking the seat you and Judd were sitting on.

Your boyfriend inhaled sharply, pressing his thumb to your swollen bud— forcing a breathy, drawn out whine out of you. He retaliated by pressing down harder, slowly moving his thumb in a circle that had you desperately bucking into his hand.

He could feel your warmth leaking, wetness gathering and threatening to fall before he finally, finally gave in and shoved a finger into you. He looked at you, drinking in your expression as he burrowed one, long finger into your cunt.

Connie cheered and you cried out Judd’s name. He made a ‘come hither’ motion, slightly scratching deep within your walls right where you needed him. He chuckled, darkly as you clenched around his finger.

“Want one more?” He asked— pressing down on your clit deliberately right as you were about to answer.

You nodded your head, burying your face in his shoulder. “Mhm! Judd— please!” You wiggled your hips in emphasis.

“Good girl.” He praised you, adding a second finger as promised. He pumped them for a little while, relishing in the moans you tried to conceal in his neck and grunting at the occasional bites you left.

Then, he suddenly stopped moving, but not withdrawing his fingers. You whined pathetically in protest. “Relax, slut.” He said. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,”

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately you were bouncing up and down on his hand; trying to bring them as far into your pussy as possible. You clawed at Judd’s shirt, pulling the neckline down so you could properly bite him and conceal most of your whiny moans.

He groaned, ripping his head back and allowing you more access to ravage his neck. You could feel yourself dripping, warm liquid gathering in Judd’s palm and running down his forearm. He pressed your clit harder, feeling your cunt clench tightly around his fingers— his cock ached at the thought of feeling your little pussy around him again.

The car filled with loud squelching sounds, every time you rose and fell back on his fingers. Your pace fastened in time with Judd’s assault on your clit and you cried out; “Please—please, more! Judd, please!”

“Yeah?” He drawled and you lifted your head from his neck slightly to nod your head. Then, he curled his fingers and touched a spot that had you seeing stars. You cried out, loudly, as his fingers began thrusting into you violently. Along with your combined forces, you moving your hips frantically and him rolling your clit with his thumb and scissoring his long fingers inside your pussy, you reached the edge quickly.

Judd sneered. “You gonna cum?” He knew the answer already, could feel it in the way your little pussy throbbed and clenched around his fingers.

Your thighs burned from your rapid movement, shaking as liquid flames consumed your belly. “S’good, s’good— yes,” you breathed, clawing at Judd’s chest.

He bend his fingers inside you again, breathing into your ear in his nice, deep voice. “Come on my fingers, pretty girl. C’mon.”

Again, you definitely did not need to be told twice. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you fell apart with a loud cry of your boyfriends name. He continued finger fucking you through your orgasm, until you were even puffier and so sensitive that you were shying away from his hands.

He grinned gleefully. “Good fucking girl,” he praised you, rubbing your clit in slow circles again, before finally pulling out and allowing you to rest on his knees.

You sat, feeling your own wetness drip underneath you as you tried to catch your breath— Judd however, wasted no time, unbuckling his pants and pulling his fat cock out.

You swallowed at the sight, how fucking hard he was and your pussy clenched again— as if it wasn’t already sore and abused. Subconsciously, you rutted your hips a bit forward, grinding on his knee as you watched him stroke himself. He hissed, hand tightly fisting the base of his cock and making its way to his leaking head; you timed your movements with his stroking.

“C’mere.” He grunted, hands leaving his swollen cock in favour of grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him.

On instinct, you reached forwards and grabbed his dick, standing on your knees again so you could sink down on him. You only managed to get the head in, before one of his large hands wrapped around your wrists; stopping you.

“You take what I give you, slut. Pull shit like that again and I’ll have you on your knees instead, got it?” He growled, his other hand restraining your hip in a death grip that was sure to leave marks on your after— long, purple finger prints.

Though the thought of sucking him off wasn’t terrible, your pussy ached so pathetically and you knew the only thing that would satisfy you was Judd’s cock rearranging your guts. So you whined, but nodded and let him guide you back.

He leaned the seat back a little, Maury yelped and moved away from his place behind you to make space as Judd leaned back. He lifted his hips up, emphasising what he wanted from you.

You reached out a shaky hand, closing it around his base and moving up and down just like he had before. He groaned, teeth clenching as you smeared his pre-cum from top to bottom, massaging him to the best of your ability. Still, you couldn’t ignore the harsh clenching of your hole as he kept you empty. You slowly started grinding against his thigh again, hoping he’d let you.

“Judd..” You sniffled, eyes close to filling with tears. “I need your cock inside me, please.”

You could almost feel Judd’s dick hardened in your grip, and he growled and sat up a little straighter. “Jeez. You whine like a bitch in heat,” He commented, rather smugly.

He beckoned you with his fingers again, and you raised yourself right over his cock but waited to sit down. Judd hummed in approval, guiding his cock with one hand and you with the other, till the head was making its way inside you.

You sighed, relieved, trying to relax your throbbing pussy so Judd could fit. He groaned. “You’re so.. fucking tight, relax.” He said, as he forced his way further inside you.

When he finally bottomed out, you moaned, loudly. He didn’t move right away, so again you took matters into your own hands and started softly rocking your hips.

He grabbed your hand, placing it over your belly to feel the bulge his cock had created inside you. “Feel that, baby? You’re so full, aren’t you?”

You barely registered the question, burying your face in his neck again to hide the way your whole expression screwed up in pleasure. “Mhm.. s’big, s’full.” You slurred.

Then, Judd started moving, bouncing you in his lap like a cocksleeve while you wailed into his shoulder. The stretch was almost unbearable, you felt him bruising your cervix each time he moved— the fit was so snug you could feel every ridge and vain on him.

He lost himself in the feeling of your warm, soft pussy, having tuned Maury out a long time ago he fucked you mercilessly, entirely focused on reaching his own end. He lifted his hips off the seat to pound into you from below— you could feel him in your belly, your clit scraping over his lower stomach every time he moved.

It was too much— you were already close to reaching your end, clenching so tightly around Judd that he cursed and could barely move.

“Feel good, you little slut?” He grunted, blunt nails digging into your sides.

You nodded desperately. “Good.” He said. “Then cum for me again, you’re so close, right? I can feel your little pussy clenching around my dick so tightly, god, you’re such a fucking whore.”

You kinda wanted to say something back, but with his rough thrusts and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and crossed; you couldn’t really deny him.

The air in the car felt electric as you came for a second time, bursting and feeling a flush of warm liquid spill from you and cover Judd’s cock. He groaned as you creamed, warm little hole sucking him in and fighting to keep him there. His breathing went erratic, and he bounced you harder, faster, to chase his own orgasm.

“Fuck! Shit, you’re so tight,” He growled through clenched teeth, fucking you so hard the car shook and he was sure to leave bruises. Your legs had gone numb by the time he took your hand again, placing it back on your belly right in time with his release.

His cock throbbed and he came. Hard. Thick ropes of warm cum filled you, stuffing you so full you could feel your belly swell even further under yours and Judd’s combined hands.

He leaned in and bit down on your neck, keeping his own noises as quiet as possible but making sure to leave your neck swollen and blue. You moaned softly as he bit you, not having the energy to shy away from the borderline painful overstimulation.

When he came down, you collapsed into his chest— breathing heavily. You sat like that for a while, the car’s windows had been fogged up and the only thing you could hear were your combined breathing.

‘Atta girl!’ Connie slithered around you, patting you on the head. You just mumbled incoherently in response, still too sex drunk to function.

Maury did the same, ruffling Judd’s hair as he leaned his head back against the seat and praising him— all of which Judd ignored.

“You’ll have to carry me back.” You muttered, after a long while.

Judd chuckled hoarsely, moving you a bit to pull out of you and tug himself back in his jeans. “Fuck no.”

You slapped his chest, gently, and pulled yourself up to look at him directly. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Then I did a good fucking job.” He snarked, leaning in and kissing your temple.

Well. It wasn’t like the two of you needed to be somewhere, relaxing in your car for a bit actually did seem like a pretty good option— and so that’s what you did.

God,, why am I horny for a fucking cartoon character wth 💀✋

Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

#big mouth #judd birch #judd birch x reader #headcannons #big mouth x reader #judd birch smut #smut #Judd is so pretty omg

1K notes · View notes

abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

4 19 33 48

Dom g!p wanda x fem!reader

Pls

Disobedience

Pairings: Wanda maximoff x reader

Word count: 1595

Warnings: mentions of stoner Wanda, smut, Wanda has a dick, blowjobs, overstimulation, Dom/sub, mommy kink, think that’s all

Summary: When you arrive home late, breaking Wanda’s rule, she had to punish you

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Here you stood, staring at yourself in the mirror as you finished up the final touches to your makeup. You couldn’t lie, you looked good. A tight and silky red cloth laid over your body, it didn’t do a great job at covering your cleavage, but you loved it.

“Wanda! Can you help me put this necklace on?” You yelled out, the woman walked out of the bathroom and stopped in her tracks, staring at you with her lip in between her teeth. Her eyes landed upon your ass, moving closer to give it a harsh squeeze. You gasped, slapping her lightly but sternly on the shoulder. Her mouth landed on your neck, leaving love bites that made you hum in content. Her hand trailed under the fabric, grasping your inner thigh tightly.

“No panties? Is it my birthday or something?.” You moaned quietly when her fingers found themselves between your wet folds, rubbing gentle circles against your clit.

“Is this all for me?”

“No, it’s for my friend's birthday, the one I’ve been telling you about for the past week.” She paused, looking at you through the mirror and resting her head on top of yours. Her digits didn’t leave their spot, your juices coating her fingertips.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I forgot. I can go get dressed-” You cut her off before she could finish, shushing her with a finger to her lips.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to go. It might be best, you know how my friends feel about you.” You said, a hint of guilt in your tone. She sighed, it was obvious your friends weren’t the biggest fans of her, they didn’t like your dynamic. Wanda had always been known for her notorious acts, smoking weed, partying, drinking, just being a normal college student. You and your friends were different though. Student councils, the debate team, you were basically known as the goodie two shoes of the school. You never got in trouble, and if you did, it was because of Wanda. She often convinced you to skip class, party, basically do anything she wanted. You could never say no to that beautiful face of hers.

“You’re not going out dressed like that, at least not when I’m not there.” The way she spoke could’ve made you fall to your knees on the spot, but you weren’t in the mood for her games, you wanted to go to this party.

“Wanda, this is my best friend's party, I have to go! Look, I promise I’ll text you every hour so you know I’m safe. Besides, all of us are boring, we’re just going to have a few drinks and talk for a while.”

“But I don’t want you to leave, can’t you just stay home? With your girlfriend? I’m gonna be all lonely without you, baby.” She pouted, hoping you’d finally give in. You grabbed her hand, taking her digit covered in your slick up to your mouth. Your lips wrapped around it, your eyes fluttering shut as your muffled moan rang loudly in her ears. A popping sound could be heard as you let go, staring at her with doey eyes.

“Hmm, no.” You swayed your hips lightly as you left the room, saying one last goodbye before closing the door behind you.

It was nearing midnight when you finally got home, you promised Wanda you would be home by 11:00, you were fucked. You tiptoed over to your room, taking your heels off at the front door to limit the noise. Suddenly, a light turned on, illuminating the dark room.

“11:56,” She exaggerated each letter with a small pause. “I thought I told you to be home before eleven o’clock? Did I not?” You nervously chuckled, staring at the woman with some sort of hope she’d have remorse on you.

“Now, you deliberately broke my rules, and to top it all off, I see a photo of you sitting on that birthday chick's lap? Did she fuck you? Hm? Fucking tell me!” You shook your head faster than you thought was possible, gulping down your fears before speaking.

“N-no, she didn’t. We just wanted to take a photo, it was nothing more!” She got closer to you, something you didn’t know was possible, and wrapped her hand around your neck still littered with her marks.

“I bet you wanted her to though, didn’t you? You wanted that annoying mouth of hers all over you, over my cunt?” Her free hand went under your dress, cupping your heat like earlier.

“Did you not wear any panties for her? Or for me? Tell me baby, who owns you?” She whispered hotly against your lips, you had to fight the urge to lean in and capture yours together.

“You do, you own me Wanda.” She hummed, a large smirk taking over her face.

“And who owns this cunt? Who’s pussy is this?”

“You do! You own me Wanda, every part of me!” She nodded, wetting her lips as she stared down at you with hunger in her eyes. She gripped your arm and yanked you forwards, causing you to almost fall on the couch behind you.

“Strip. Now.” Were the only words that fell out of her mouth.

“But-” She cut you off, clearly tired of your bullshit.

“No! I gave you an order, you follow it. God, you really are trying to piss me off tonight, aren’t you.” Giving in, you did what she asked, staring directly at her as you removed your clothes. The dress was slowly peeled off, revealing your nude body. She eyed you up and down without shame, walking forward to place her hands on your hips.

“Fuck, still so damn sexy. You have no idea what you do to me baby, you make mommy so fucking hard.” She let out a small moan, placing your hand on her crotch where you found a large imprint.

“You feel that? That’s all from you, baby.” Your legs folded as you dropped to your knees, surprising the woman. Your fingers undid her pants, pulling them down as you looked at her with innocent eyes. Her boxers were revealed as you licked over the bulge ever so lightly, beating her at her own game.

“Mm, sweetheart, I need you to suck me off. Need your sweet little mouth.” Her head was shot back, the pleasure consuming her. The last piece of clothing was thrown to the small pile next to her, your hand wrapping itself around her almost immediately.

“Mommy, look at me when I jerk you off, look at your angel.” You pleaded. She looked down at you, using her palm to slap you on the cheek before stroking the now shaded red skin.

“Don’t tell me what to do, honey. I’ll watch you if I feel like it.” Apologizes left your mouth, your hand still continuing its motions. She replaced your palm with her own, slapping her throbbing length against your lips. You opened them slowly, letting the tip enter your mouth. Her pre-cum hit your tastebuds instantly, causing you to moan around her. She smiled devilishly before holding both sides of your head in her hands, making you bob up and down. Your own digits trailed up her legs, leaving goosebumps behind. Your fingertips tapped her balls lightly, grasping them in your hands as to cause her more pleasure. She couldn’t help herself, she forced your head further down on her cock, hitting the back of your throat as you gagged. Tears escaped your eyes at the feeling, no matter how many times you took her, you still found it difficult to deepthroat her.

“Shit! That’s it, gag on my fucking dick, cry for me you little bitch.” She loved the fact that you struggled to swallow all of her, it turned her on more than she could ever admit. Knowing that she was the biggest you’ve ever had, it just did things to her.

“You gonna soak my cock with your tears? You filthy whore, can’t even suck dick without mommy’s help.” You nodded around her, your eyes fluttering shut as her tip rammed against the back of your throat repeatedly.

She didn’t stop until she released, filling your mouth up with cum. And now, your legs were spread on the couch as she ate you out for the third time, not letting up even when you finished multiple times. You were overstimulated, she knew that too. And she loved it.

“Mommy!” You screamed as you came once more, panting heavily as you collapsed. Wanda let you relax for a moment, making you think you were finally done until her hands started prying you open once more. You whined, not ready to do this again.

“Mommy, no. I’m too sore!” She only laughed, she fucking laughed.

“Oh baby, you know I’m not stopping until you squirt in my mouth. Now, be a good girl and spread your legs for me, I won’t ask again.” You slowly complied, watching the territorial gaze she gave you before she dove back into your weeping cunt.

“Good girl, now shut your pretty ass up before I gag you.” Your eyes shut, her tongue running through your folds like an expert. You looked over to your side, seeing the small jar of weed she planned on smoking with you. If you just followed her rules, listened to her, you wouldn’t be here, your leg over her shoulder as she fucked you dumb. You wished you stayed home. But at the same time, you’re so fucking happy you went.

#wanda maximoff smut #wanda smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda my beloved #wanda fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wanda maximilf #wanda x you #wanda x gn!reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader smut #anon ask #anon request

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sailoryooons · 3 months

Text

Spider Web | JHS | (m)

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Hoseok x human!reader (afab)

☾ Summary: Playing games with vampires is a bad idea. Playing with Spiders is worse.

☾ Word Count: 1,976

☾ Genre: Supernatural, Predator/Prey, Established Relationship, Smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Predator/prey dynamics, intense feelings of fear, reader is navigating a maze while unable to see at all, Hoseok taunting reader, minor injuries, explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, biting, dom/sub dynamics, subspace, feeling fear during sex, reader being both afraid and aroused and just going with it, implied relationship of some manner.

☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024

☾ A/N: This might not be for everyone, but this is for me. This is not only self-indulgent but it was so fun to write. The third roll for the 100 Drabble Challenge was number 46 - Predator/Prey and I had the opportunity to do something that surprised me - write a piece of a universe that I’ve wanted to write since I was in middle school. You heard that right - I have an entire outline/idea of a dystopian vampire novel where vampires rule and humans live under them with a complex political structure and rebel human groups and class war etc. that I have wanted to write since middle school and when I rolled this tonight… I was like what if I just use that world. In that world there are vampire guards call The Web that are broken up into three categories: Spiders, Widows and Venoms and they all have different purposes. In this case, Hobi is a Spider :) I’ve considered turning it into a fic so… let me know if you’re interested odigjdoigjdofgij

A/N 2: This is unedited and I wrote it in roughly an hour pls excuse the errors etc. I will look back over it in the morning and fix them okay soifjsoigj

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout,” a voice echoes. Your heart slams in your chest as you press your fingers against the sides of the wall, trying to feel your way through the maze. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

You should be used to the dark. Your life has revolved around the dark from the moment you took your first breath. Born in the dead of night during the hour of the predator. As a kid, you didn’t quite understand the hour of the predator. All you knew was that it meant to stay inside and not leave the building no matter what.

When you were older, you learned that walls and locks do not keep out predators. The notion that they keep their hunt to a single hour of the night is ridiculous. Now you know that vampires only let people think that they’re safe outside of that single hour of every night.

Like everything in the city, it is an illusion.

Inhaling shakily, you try to calm your breathing. The thud of your pulse in your neck and the rattling of your heart in your ribcage is a dead giveaway to this predator. Fear puts you on a razor's edge. A tingling sensation skitters along your skin like static as you keep one hand against the wall and the other in front of you, each step careful.

You can’t see in the darkness of the maze. He can.

The disadvantage isn’t far. He’s better than you at most things: sight, smell, speed, strength - sadism, to be sure. But still, you’ve managed to evade him for far longer than he would like, and despite his taunting, you know it’s irritating him.

You smile. For vampires, most things are prey. For Spiders, all things are.

“Perhaps we should change the lyrics of the song,” Hoseok calls. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. He sounds only a few rows over, making you quicken your steps. You’re barefoot and the ground is cold, making you shiver as you go. “The Spider doesn’t get washed out, but the little human does.”

The hand reaching in front of you hits the wall. You inhale and turn left, letting your right hand skim the corner and press against the new wall. You’ve hit a dead end twice and lost your sense of direction, but Hoseok hasn’t caught up yet.

The thought makes you grin. You’re better at these games than you used to be, and you’re able to make faster decisions now. You also have managed to learn a thing or two about vampires. Somewhere, your socks and shoes are sitting in other corners. You’ve also dropped a jacket, making the entire maze smell like you.

“Ah, the mouse has left a shoe for me.”

Your heart beats faster. You only dropped that shoe moments ago, which means Hoseok is close. Too close. You’re not even sure what will happen if he wins - it’s always different.

“I hear your heart, Mouse.”

The momentary panic makes you walk into a wall, banging loudly. Hoseok laugh is carried down a maze hall, chilling your spine. You throat caution to the wind, breaking into a run though you cannot see anything around you.

In the dark, colors and shapes taunt you, your imagination filling in the gaps for the things you cannot see. Running wild totally unable to see is a terrible idea, you could run into-

You slam into a wall and let out a pained sound. Pain shoots up your wrist and you whimper, cradling it to your hand. A hiss echoes behind you and you run again, bad hand tucked to your chest as Hoseok closes in.

“Yes!” he growls, glee in his dark voice. “Run, Mouse! I love it when you run!”

You hardly recognize his voice through the growl, bloodlust taking over. Your instincts perceive a wall and you jerk to the left, skidding as you go. A speck of light beckons you and you gasp, realizing you can see the way out of the maze. You never make it that far.

Without hesitation, you take off at a full sprint, the soles of your feet slapping against concrete, your heart pumping in your chest. Just a little further, almost there.

Hoseok snarls behind you and you scream, a primal fear exploding inside of you as your instincts sense the danger behind you, all other thoughts and feelings blotted out by the sheer force of terror.

A force crashes into you, taking you down. You squeeze your eyes shut, jarred and waiting for the harsh impact of the concrete. It doesn’t come, instead softened by the blow of falling into Hoseok as he twists, taking the brunt of the impact.

You’re dizzy, world spinning as the adrenaline tingles in your veins, your entire body feeling like it’s on pins and needles. In the dim light of the concrete building, you make out the shape of Hoseok under you. It doesn’t last long, the vampire rolling and pinning you with an ironclad grip to the floor.

A cry slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. It riles him up, Hoseok pressing in on you. He smells like rosewood and lavender, making your eyes flutter as Hoseok pulls your head backward against the old concrete, your skull digging in painfully as he noses your pulse.

“You lose, Mouse.”

Hoseok’s voice rasps against your throat. Fear-laced pleasure blooms in your stomach. Where his mouth ghosts against your sweaty skin feels good, his words buzzing through you as his lips skim your neck toward your jaw.

You don’t dare move - can’t move. This is the part that you don’t understand, but don’t have to. Your body thrums with the innate terror of death. Adrenaline pumps through your system, parts of your brain screaming and alerting your organs that you’re in danger.

But there’s another part of your brain that goes fuzzy when you feel Hoseok’s fangs drag against your jaw. You can’t make out his features in the barely-there light of the building, but you catch the silver flash of predator's eyes when he glances up at you.

Once upon a time that gaze made you nearly soil yourself in horror. Now the wetness between your legs is entirely different, caused by the hell your nervous system goes through as it straddles fear and desire.

“I smell you,” Hoseok breathes. His tongue snakes out to taste your salty skin and you can’t help the sound that comes out of your throat. It is equal parts a whimper as it is a moan. His lips are pressed against your cheekbone as one of his hands skims down your body. “You almost made it out this time.”

The ability to verbalize anything is lost on you. You can only squirm underneath his touch, sparking to life like cut livewires. A violent shiver wracks through your body as Hoseok presses his hands between your legs, causing a pulse of want to unfurl.

You want more. You want none of it. You want both.

“Next time try dropping your panties,” he whispers, pressing hard, painful kisses toward your ear. He bites your earlobe sharply at the same time he presses your clothed cunt, plain and pleasure dancing together. “That would certainly do it.”

“Never thought of that.”

Hoseok’s hand ventures up and grabs the waistband of your pants, pulling on them with a loud rip. It’s almost drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

Your limbs start to shake in excitement as Hoseok catches your mouth with his. The kiss is sudden and demanding, completely inescapable. You kiss him back, drowning in the flurry of sensations hammering down on you, scrambling your thoughts, destroying your feelings.

It’s always like this. He’s always able to do this. Hoseok has made an art of building you up and cutting you open, scattering every thought to the wind as he hunts you and beds you. Here with him you might not be safe, but at least you don’t think about being out there and being unsafe.

This spider web you weave with Hoseok is high stakes, high reward. At least here if he kills you, you’ll be smiling. Out there when you die, no one will care.

Hoseok’s fingers hook your underwear to the side and pull. Cold air hits your hot, weeping hunt and you wiggle under him, trapped under his oppressive weight. He half growls, half purs as his fingers swipe up your sticky folds, avoiding your clit where all the pressure feels trapped.

You kick your feet under him, pressing up. You want more. Need more. The more he gives you, the more you feel the high of whatever this is between you. Hoseok knows this and gives in, playing nice as his fingers dip into your clenching hole to collect wetness before drifting back up, circling your clit.

A sound that is barely human escapes you. Hoseok has you pinned firmly underneath him as he starts to play. He carefully drags his fingers up and down, tracing your tightening entrance before drifting back up to apply pressure on your bundle of nerves.

“Little mouse is desperate tonight,” Hoseok pants. When he speaks, you can feel the sharp drag of his fangs on your cheek. “I bet you wanted to be caught.”

You shake your head no and he laughs, sinking a finger into your waiting heat. A strangled moan escapes you. Everything is on fire and you feel your cunt clench around his fingers. The concrete beneath you is too hot, Hoseok is too firm, his fangs on your skin are too sharp, you’re half afraid and half aroused - it all turns you into a mess, your mind tiptoeing on the edge of a blade between two nameless abysses.

Hoseok thrusts his fingers up into you at an angle, pushing against that spot that makes you teeter dangerously. Your nails dig into your palms, leaving bloody crescents as Hoseok fucks you expertly with his fingers, drawing you to the edge of madness as he does it.

Just as you think you’re about to tip one way or the other and plunge into darkness, Hoseok presses his mouth against yours, words slurred as he mumbles, “Ask.”

“Please.” Your words are slurred against his mouth, your breath hot and sticky. “Please let me. I need it. I - Hoseok - please.”

His pace quickens. His thumb presses on your clit, wiggling. You feel it coming like a spool spinning thread, going and going and going until the spindle snaps and the thread comes unwound, spilling into his hand with a scream.

Your ears ring. Your mind blanks. Your body goes so taught that it's only option is to go limp. You are vaguely aware that you’re gasping for air - you feel it more than you see it. You melt into the ground, unaware of anything but the static in your veins and the rush of air through your lungs.

In out. In out. In out. In out.

You drift in the abyss. You’re unsure which one you fell into. Here, you are weightless and calm.

In out. In out. In out.

Nothing can hurt you here. There is no such thing as pain. There is only absolutely nothing but your breath and the buzzing on your skin.

In out. In out. In out.

Eventually it wears off. Hoseok is still a firm weight against you, an anchor pulling you back. Your thoughts are syrup-slow and dizzy when you lift your too-heavy head to look at him. You cannot make out his features, but you get the sense he’s smiling.

“Did you think we were done?” he rasps, a laugh in his voice. “You’ve only just fallen into the spiderweb, Mouse.”

#hobi smut #hoseok smut #j hope smut #bts smut #hobi fic #hobi fanfic #hoseok fic #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #vampire hobi #bts fanfic #hoseok x you #100 drabble challenge #okay but like trying to do j hope hobi hoseok tags is wild please why must i name him thrice

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kiss-theggoat · 4 months

Note

billy loomis x stu macher x reader

hi hun! could u do something where billy loomis and stu macher find out reader is like them? but reader is like, cold, calm, and manipulative?

anything but smut pls <3

thank you! have a cool day :)

A/N: You got it babes 🫶🏻 Hope you like!

Three’s A Crowd

Billy and Stu x F!Reader

Word Count: 800

Summary: After discussing the murder of Casey Becker, Billy and Stu think they’ve found someone who might be committed to their cause.

TW: Canon typical violence

You sighed as you plopped down on the concrete beside Sydney and Tatum, sitting between the two couples. Randy was ranting about something or other, like usual, but you couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. To be honest, all this fuss with the murders was…annoying. You’d been pulled out of class twice to be “checked on” which is a nice way of saying interviewed, and offered grief counseling from some girl who’s been rude to you since middle school.

Now, all anyone can talk about is Casey and Shane. You’d hoped that sitting next to your friends would give you a break, but alas, Randy was spewing some shit about movies and rules and killing. You rolled your eyes and picked up the small bag of chips from your bag, tearing it open.

“Did they ask you guys if you liked to hunt?” Stu asked, looking towards Billy and Randy, who both nodded their heads.

“They didn’t ask us if we liked to hunt.” Tatum pointed out, shrugging her shoulders. Which was true. None of the girls were asked any questions pertaining to the death of Casey or Shane, just where they were and if they’d like grief counseling, while the boys were looked at more carefully. Which, you thought, was pretty offensive.

Stu laughed, popping a grape into his mouth “Because a girl couldn’t have killed them.”

“Wrong.” You said frankly, voice monotone, chip crunching between your teeth.

Everyone looked towards you, Stu and Randy with the usual misogynistic mansplain face on. “I heard they were gutted. A girl couldn’t do that.” Stu stated, and Randy immediately followed up, “And most serial killers are men.”

“First off all, Randy, a killer has to rack up three kills to be labeled a serial killer. And second of all, Stu, women can, and have, kill people like that.”

Billy sat up onto his palms, now paying more attention to the way you spoke.

“Oh yeah? Give me an example.”

You scoffed, crumpling your now empty chip bag and shoving it into the pocket of your backpack. “Are you stupid? Have you ever heard of… I don’t know, Elizabeth Bathory? One of the first women to be accused of serial killing. She’d capture virgins from the village, torture them, then bathe in their blood. She believed it kept her young.”

“Yeah, accused. And she used servants.” Randy rebutted, giving you a cocky smile.

“Okay… Aileen Wuornos.”

“Just shot her victims, never gutted them.”

“Randy, I’m not arguing if a woman could gut someone or not. Don’t be an idiot, of course a woman could. I’m saying that women are just as capable of being killers. What about Juana Barraza? Killed like…50 innocent elderly people. Just because she didn’t gut them doesn’t mean she is a better person.”

Stu nodded a little bit, eating another grape before speaking. “I guess you’re right.”

You looked over to Sydney, seeing how uncomfortable she was, which made you feel a little guilty but you’d been walking in eggshells around her for a year. You shifted a little bit and leaned back against your hands, sighing. “Doesn’t matter anyway. They won’t catch who did it.”

Billy finally chimed in. “Why do you say that?”

“I heard a couple cops saying they found no evidence at the scene. Like a ghost killed them.” You said nonchalantly, causing Billy to look over to Stu. They made eye contact for a moment, but nobody caught it.

Billy watched you carefully. It seemed like you couldn’t care less about Casey being killed…and that interested him. The bell rang, and everyone stood and disbursed, except for Billy and Stu.

Stu leaned over, whispering into Billy’s ear. “She doesn’t care at all dude…this is awesome.” He was giddy. Billy knew Stu’s always had the hots for you, and this caused him to roll his eyes just a bit. But he couldn’t lie…this excited him too.

“Don't get your hopes up, Stu…”

“You think she’d help us?”

Billy turned to stare at him for a moment…maybe you would.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #ghostface #ghostface fanfiction #billy loomis x y/n #stu macher x reader

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driaswrld · 6 months

Text

ultraviolence — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 3k

summary : suguru coming home was supposed to make things better. but, it's as if everything is going wrong again.

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : pls read this and this first ty!! LORE DUMP 🤭 mostly from sugu n toru's pov dealing with their new life and the twins along with jujutsu society. reader is trying to be the mediator as always and shoko is the best ofc. just the one where everyone has an existential crisis. (part one of two hopefully)

other : I PROMISE YOU'LL GET FLUFF SOON 😭 mentions of alcohol, blood, smoking obvi, idk why i named this ultraviolence lmao (shit hits the fan in the next tsr im js trying to be kind i promise!)

comment to be added to the tsr taglist!

current cassette : pretty when you cry - lana del rey

You come home to a house colder than you left it.

There’s a small comfort in the droplets of water that splatter against the wooden floor when you hang your jacket up, having remembered the way the girls beamed up at you only an hour ago as you walked them to school.

The twins were adamant to hold your hands, Mimiko blushing the whole time and Nanako poking fun at it, promising to hold your hand everyday until they became big girls.

Big girls that would only need you to hold their hand halfway — the same way Suguru only walks you and Satoru halfway to the school before heading back.

But the sliver of a chill that reverberates through your bones doesn’t resemble the comfort of a morning’s soft rain drizzle.

“You can’t just dismiss the issue like this, Satoru!”

“Where’s my own will, huh? Can’t I just do this?”

“This isn’t about you.”

You hear everything for a moment, muffled shouts and grumbles from the bathroom.

“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear, haven't you?”

Then you hear nothing at all.

The investigation launched on the ninth day in December.

Suguru had all but been home for a week and then some, settling into the shoddy apartment you and Satoru called home between missions and meetings with Yaga and the higher ups.

It took half a day to move his old things out of the dormitory building, most of what really mattered was already sitting in the hall closet untouched, kept the way Suguru would’ve wanted it.

It was after he rifled through the closet in search of a fresh set of clothes did he realize, he had been mourned.

You and Satoru had mourned him like a mother would a child, like a womb stretched to make space, only to bleed.

His clothes smelled more like the both of you than it did him.

The fourth day, Suguru spent the night hunched over the balcony, smoking a silver blue parliament with Shoko while you and Satoru attended a hearing with the higher ups.

A necessary audience, they defined over the cryptic email.

Shoko described it as a means to an end, Satoru was still the strongest and you were his voice. The meeting was all but a farce to keep you two in check — but Suguru read it clearly for what it was.

A threat.

“He’ll be clan head,” Suguru murmured between plumes of smoke. “They won’t let him turn it down any longer, especially with me around.”

At this, Shoko chuckled, sucking in a sharp breath.

“You think he’ll do it this time?” She asked, somewhere between knowing and not knowing.

The higher ups want Satoru under their thumbs — not that you’d so much as let them come close — that much is evident. But it’s become a lose to win situation.

The guarantee that Suguru and the girls would remain untouched and hidden under the condition that he follows their rules, does it their way, doesn’t ask, doesn’t so much as breathe a word or commit an action using his own strength outside their command—

“Satoru as a lap dog?” Suguru laughs a little.

He just can’t picture it.

What he can picture though is the Six Eyes user backed into a corner, with no other choice but to concede. Then again, Satoru’s never been submissive to authority, no matter the setting.

A beat of silence passes over him and Shoko, and she knows what he’s thinking before he says it, yet she doesn’t caution him otherwise nor does she blame the nicotine.

“He could kill them.” Suguru says, “It wouldn’t take him long.”

The seventh day, Suguru stands in the middle of one of the many engawa corridors of Jujutsu High, dressed like a teenage dropout, teeth sinking into the inside of his cheeks until crimson stains his tongue.

You told him last night while cuddled into his side, Satoru’s head on his chest, “Walk away from it the right way, Suguru.”

And admittedly, he was going to laugh a little, kiss your cheek and maybe lull you back to sleep and ease your worries.

I don’t resent you,

for the path you chose.

As long as you swear,

yours and ours will converge.

“Geto, what is this?”

Suguru looks down at the sealed envelope he passed to Yaga seconds ago, the word resignation printed in bold atop the sealed flaps.

If he intends to kill himself, he should at least do it the way you asked him to.

He owes you that much.

Suguru never thought of himself to have been in a position where he could live past twenty ; he thought he was lucky Satoru even let him live to see the first snow, even if it was from the bittersweet solitude of the bed you three shared.

“I’ll graduate first,” Suguru says, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.

For the sake of saving face he took a total of ten missions after his sentence was pardoned.

Five to prove he wasn't a liability to the Jujutsu world, two to hover by your side – he hadn't realized post traumatic stress could manifest in the need for more physical attachment – and three to see up close just how much Satoru had on his shoulders now.

To see just how different Satoru had become because of him.

“And then?” Yaga asks it like a cruel joke that only he and Suguru know.

People are talking. People have been talking.

Suguru Geto the defect. Suguru Geto the cancer of the strongest. Suguru Geto the curse. Suguru Geto—

“Maybe I’ll die of old age.”

I pray death finds me

under you two

in our bed.

If not,

kill me yourselves.

There’s meaning in that too.

That same afternoon, brandished with what should be newfound freedom – Suguru Geto. Not the sorcerer, not the curse, not the man – he drinks himself sick until he blacks out on the sofa.

Alcohol is cheap at Shinanoya, it’s been that way since he was sixteen and idle in the summer of ‘06, coaxed by Satoru into printing fake IDs, blacking out on the floor of your dorm room and waking up to throw up, just to blackout again.

Suguru took the train back and passed his stop two times.

Two times he thought of two different outcomes and two different destinations.

First, he’d go back to Jujutsu High and take the resignation back from Yaga before he signed it.

He’d call your cellphone, tell you how he's had a change of heart, whisper into the line : “We should celebrate. Me, you and Satoru.”

But you’d know it was a lie.

He still has twisted dreams of waking up in a gas station bathroom in a pool of blood that isn't his own.

Dreams that don't frighten him at all.

Second, it came to him the moment he considered actually getting off at his stop and going back to the apartment.

He’d let the train take him to Shibuya, stand in the middle of the crossing and scream.

People would look at him weird, others would walk by.

And the first monkey to reach out and offer him help, he’d—

“Suguru?”

He wakes with a startle, eyes bloodshot and half lidded.

“Name—” he opens his mouth, half empty vodka bottle tilted over and soaking the carpet. Satoru comes through the door a moment later, leading the twins to the kitchen to set their half eaten bentos down.

A shiver runs down his spine when he glances at the clock above the mantle. 12:53pm.

“School ended half day,” you say to him. Satoru doesn't so much as glance at Suguru when he steps back in to take the plastic bags of takeout from your hands. “They called but you didn't—”

Suguru's already sitting up, fishing through his pockets for his phone and clicking at the buttons.

Two missed calls from Mimiko and Nanako’s school.

Two missed calls from their homeroom teacher, Ms. Aiko.

Four missed calls from you.

One voicemail from Satoru.

“I'm so— shit,” Suguru sets the bottle of alcohol upright, pressing a palm to the carpet to find it damp.

His skin is hot, he feels like a mess, no doubt he looks like a mess with the way you're already kneeling beside him to screw the bottle shut. “I’m so sorry, I didn't— everything with the letter and then the train got delayed—”

“Suguru.” Satoru speaks for the first time, looks at him for the first time – behind bandaged eyes. “Sober up by tomorrow, yeah?”

Your head flits around to give Satoru a stare, as if to ask if that's all he has to say right now. But Suguru’s fingers enclose around your wrist, it’s okay, I was the one at fault.

“Satoru—”

“Just do this one thing right, please.”

The twins’ school dismissed half day due to heavy snow this early in the month. Suguru, listed as the girls’ primary guardian, gets the calls first.

He doesn't pick up.

Your work line rings next, and it goes to voicemail.

In between exorcising a special grade in Shinjuku, you don't hear it ring.

As the devil would have it made and done, Satoru’s line rings while he's at the school. Loud.

“Gojo-san!” The lady from the admin office knocks on the door twice, and is met with silence. The phone rings again, but this time it's the main line. The office extension.

The one he’s been using since he put in his teaching application.

The phone clatters against the desk in robust vibrations, Limitless almost bending the coily cord to nothingness.

The meeting room of four higher ups and two members of the Gojo clan watch him intently, scrutinizing him, waiting.

Beyond his better judgment, Satoru tells himself it's just you, calling to ask if you should bring back kikufuku or just the udon.

Or it's Suguru, who’s confused and can't find one of his things in the apartment and needs some guidance.

Satoru's not a pious person. But he wishes he’d have prayed the moment the call went to the answer machine.

“Good day, Mr. Gojo! I’m calling regarding the girls. School’s been dismissed half day today on account of the weather but Mr. Geto nor Ms. Name are picking up.”

“I’m hoping this reaches you soon so the girls can have a ride home. Thankyou! Stay warm!”

The eighth day, you wake to the smell of jasmine and hot oil. Four messages from Yaga, one email attached, forwarded to Satoru : Adoption fraud.

“—he hates me.” Suguru mumbles, shirtless and damn near cowering from your gaze, flipping the omelet in the frying pan, two steps away to avoid the oil splatter.

“Don't say that so casually,” you shake your head, shutting the fridge door, setting a carton of milk on the counter. “It's not like you believe that.”

Suguru flips the omelet with one hand on the pan handle, the other flicking the carton open and turning it to his head in a quick gulp.

He doesn't confirm it.

“Suguru—” you smack his arm and take the milk, turning away to rummage through the pantry for the pancake mix.

“I know.”

No, Suguru.

You don't know.

"I try to be patient," Suguru says quietly, shaking his head. "I know we're not sixteen and that this and then are two different things—” He turns the flame down, refusing to look over at you.

“Nobody's asking you to be perfect,” you cut him off, pancake mix forgotten on the counter. “You made a mistake, it happens—”

The higher ups are already breathing down Satoru’s neck about the twins now that they've been found out. It's an uphill battle in the Jujutsu world, your phone won't stop ringing.

Whether it's Yaga proposing damage control to have you and Satoru set apart on missions or another higher up waiting for you to slip up and beg for help, beg to be in their debt.

“I owe you better,” Suguru whispers, more to himself than to you.

He’s never been the type to ask for help or beg for forgiveness or cower at someone's heels. But you saved him — by putting your life on the line and in turn making Satoru cover it up — and he hates himself for it.

I wish

you would've

just let me stay dead.

“Because that's what I deserve? Better?”

Suguru gets the call from Shoko the next day.

December 9, 2007.

A formal investigation is announced into the involvement of [name] [name] in the case of Suguru Geto’s defection and pardon — alleged charge : fabrication of evidence.

Satoru makes his mind up the same day, sends the twins to stay at the dorms with Shoko for the weekend and brings you and Suguru with him to the Gojo estate.

“I can feel your eyes,” you whisper, seated cross legged on the tatami floor, nursing a cup of tea in your cupped palm.

You've never liked the Gojo estate. Not in winter at least, not when it's like this.

Satoru has his back turned to you, fingering the loose cloth of white bandages covering his eyes, almost hesitant. He recalls his mother's words to him from a few hours ago.

You look tired, Satoru. You're never tired.

There’s an unspoken thing residing here between both your energies and it becomes unbearably evident.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs, slipping the baby blue haori off his shoulders, draping it over the edge of the bed. “Just the cold getting to me 's all.”

Loose and darkened strands of hair lay on the silk sheets where Suguru sat moments ago. Satoru holds his breath.

My lover’s hair is splitting at the ends, tearing apart at the seams just like me.

I pray you don’t notice.

“Is he okay?”

You set the ceramic cup down on the table, turning your head to glance over at Satoru, who despite himself, wears his emotions like a cardigan knit tight between his brows.

“Why won’t you just ask him, ‘toru?”

He thinks he hates you. He hates not being more like you.

With the way you say these things so easily.

Maybe it’s the deep rooted thrum of Suguru’s cursed energy in his veins, or the bitter taste on his tongue when he wakes in the middle of the night just to see if he’s still here—

Maybe it’s that voice in the back of his head, the instinct pounding on the walls of his heart, telling him this is only for a while, it won’t last.

“You can’t lie to me.” Satoru reasons, bending his knees and folding his body next to yours, wrapping and unwrapping the length of cloth around his fingers over and over again. “But he can.”

Or maybe it’s the way he knows even if Suguru lied to him again, said it was okay, said that he’d stay, said that he’d let you and Satoru be selfish for once and keep him here, keep him tethered to this existence he loathes so much—

“Satoru…”

—he’d believe him.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” He sighs, near breathless.

You lift your hands to cup either side of his face, hooking your thumbs under the pale cloth, unraveling and unraveling and unraveling.

How many more layers?

How many more walls?

How many—

“His energy is restless.” Satoru could find other words to describe it, the aura, the shape of Suguru’s soul, his scent, his being, his whole existence. Something only you could understand.

“It’s pouring into me, and I can’t— I pretend I don’t feel it, that I don’t know that he’s…”

Different.

Suguru is different now, he wants to say.

Suguru’s unhappy with me, unhappy with us.

I can’t give him what he needs.

I was too selfish to have asked him to stay. You were too selfish in saving him.

We were too selfish. Do you think he hates me for it? Do you think he wishes he were—

“He loves you.” You tug on the cloth, let it fall and pool in endless strands around his neck. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

Satoru’s eyes are dim, bleaky sapphire and cerulean staring back at you.

Don’t look at them, look at me, look inside me, my eyes are lying, that’s not how I feel—

“He loves you too,” he says it like a confession, a secret. Love can’t be enough, can it?

Love never stopped Suguru from leaving the first two times.

Love never stopped Satoru from waking up so many nights with tears running down his neck, from where you cried for Suguru in your dreams.

Love never stopped Satoru from not being strong enough to bend the world and stretch it to fit Suguru inside.

Why should you love him whom hates the world so?

Satoru lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, body slumped over yours and breath shaky.

Loving Suguru came as easy as breathing if not easier.

He’d spend nights curled in his bed at the dorms, clicking through photos he’d taken of you three, back then, when it wasn’t anything yet but still everything to him.

“Yaga-sensei, please pair me with someone else!”

“Hah!? We not good enough for you anymore, name?”

“Satoru, name, don’t yell so early in the morning…”

And even from the first mission, when Suguru’s hair was shorter and you hadn’t quite figured out how to control your technique.

When Satoru had to save you from plummeting to your death after you sliced a curse open just for grabbing Suguru and yanking him by his hair.

Satoru thinks, maybe, he came into this world loving you two.

Because he loves me more than all the world.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispers into your neck, full of conviction.

He’s never not the strongest, except maybe when he’s here, in these moments. “I’ll protect the both of you.”

Let me do this one thing,

just this once.

Let me be the one

who holds us together.

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

tsr taglist :

@wishmemel @draecys @pearlvalley @cookielovesbook-akie @astral-hydromancy @celestair @/midnightbluehorizons @plaggi @blue-blossomss

#★ DRIASWRLD #tsr ⭐️#jujutsu kaisen #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto #gojo x geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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muddyorbsblr · 5 months

Text

all will be alright in time [rtc what if…?]

'relinquish the crown' masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki makes a realization about his role of keeping watch over the timelines when a branch slips from his grasp | sequel to 'bigger than the whole sky'

Pairing: Loki (God of Stories/Time) x Reader

Word Count: 6k [pls prep some drinkies & snacks before going in]

Warnings: 18+ | angst with a happy ending; some steamy moments at the end; this is the RTC universe so…themes of incest if you squint (he's adopted but still…); Loki S2 finale spoilers [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: no prior reading of RTC is required but reading 'bigger than the whole sky' is kind of required…

Dick-tionary: steamy moments (but no outright smut) starts at "We'll need it, my love." and ends at "Happy anniversary, my love"

Time moved differently from where Loki sat, in his throne beyond space and time. It was as if he was simultaneously between two ticks of the clock and experiencing every moment to ever happen in every multiversal timeline all at once. He wouldn't be able to tell if two seconds or two millennia had passed since he bid you farewell.

All he knew was the routine he established. The one that functioned as his own form of a personal clock.

First he would choose one of the timelines at random, monitoring for any threats that could potentially be beyond the capabilities of that world's defenders. More often than not an iteration of Thor would be among that group, so he would check on the blond oaf as well.

In the timelines where his brother mourned him, he would send a snake or a black cat his way. The god's way to send a message. I miss you, too, Brother.

Then he would check on you within that timeline. He found that in a few of those lives you were not in league with his brother, but rather one of the innocents, living your life in a constant state of elevated awareness, anxiously waiting for the next invasion and preparing accordingly. In those lives, you found love with an echo of him. A hotel night manager. A decommissioned military tracker. Even a prince in some timelines. And in a few occasions, an actor.

After that he would check on your timeline. His final stop on his personal clock. Every time a slight anxiety would wash over him, wondering what he would find when he saw you this time.

The first few moons worth of visits he found you in bed, curled into a ball and clutching his pillow. You'd cried yourself to sleep, the disquiet showing on your features even in your slumbering state. You grieved long past what was customary in Asgard, seemingly returning to your wardrobe set in onyx fabric when in truth if one looked close enough it was truly set in the deepest emerald.

Grieving for the living. What a peculiar concept that ruled both your lives.

It was only after a year that you'd begun to re-integrate yourself into Asgard's society, most of your steps fumbling and truly only powering through with the support and occasional aid of your family, mainly Sif and Frigga. You'd made amends with Thor and Odin, apologizing for your behavior while you were under the effects of the spell that locked away your memories, telling them what you could of yours and Loki's story when you became ready.

Lately you'd been working on restructuring some lessons within the school curriculum, assuring that the information was kept up to date and refining where necessary. It gave the god a semblance of peace knowing that there was something that could finally occupy your mind that somewhat gave you some form of satisfaction.

With every cycle he checked on you the longest. Stayed with you until you were fast asleep.

After two years you visited Midgard, blending among the denizens of a town that still reverently worshipped the gods of Asgard and stayed with Loki's altar for a fortnight. You spoke with him as if he was right there in the sanctuary standing beside you, your hand still instinctively twitching to reach for his even after all the time that had passed.

Your last day on Midgard you placed an offering at the altar. Loki could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a good few moments once he caught sight of the gold wedding band laying atop the offering plate. "Husband, I know not if you can see or hear me, but I wanted you to have this. It's a Midgardian tradition, I know, but it's one that I was always quite fond of. To wear something on ourselves that could serve as a symbol of our love. Our fealty to one another. Had I not been under the spell's influence during our wedding I would have chosen to include this in our ceremony. This is the closest I will ever get to giving this to you, but I wanted you to have it regardless."

You placed your hands onto the altar, the god's air catching at the back of his throat and tears welling up in his eyes once he saw the matching gold band around your finger.

"I love you and I miss you desperately and always, my darling husband." You pressed your lips to the black and gold marble altar before walking away, keeping your head down to shield your tears.

It was possible that you'd assumed that the ring, similar to all other offerings on his and the neighboring altars, would either be swiped by a nameless faceless passerby or cleared away throughout the periodic tidying of the sanctuary. That it wouldn't even have crossed your mind that the moment that no eyes were on his altar, he'd conjured the ring over to him, and it was now worn on his finger for him to look upon fondly as he checked on you, pressing his lips to the gold band once you'd tucked yourself into bed for the night, hoping that somehow you would feel the message he was sending you through space and time.

Goodnight, little Princess. I shall see you again tomorrow.

In the years that had passed, you continued to work on various texts, constantly revising on parchments and going back and forth in the library you held in your chambers, still so careful not to disturb Loki's side of the shelves that housed his journals and textbooks. The work had kept your mind occupied, and the people that surrounded you offered pleasant enough company that from an outsider's perspective, you seemed almost as lively as you once were.

They couldn't see that your smile never reached your eyes. They never heard the clipped quality of your laughter or how you would cut it short, the slight wince in your features as if you were admonishing yourself for granting yourself the permission to laugh. And the way that you would start playing with your wedding band straight after.

When he checked on you during what would have been the tenth anniversary of your wedding day, he found you once again curled up in your bed, shaking and screaming into a pillow as sobs wracked your body.

He couldn't help himself. He reached out to you, a breeze blowing through and ruffling your hair in a gentle caress despite all the closed windows and doors in your chambers. You immediately stilled your movements afterward, clutching your pillow tighter against yourself.

"I'm sorry, husband," you spoke into the quiet. "It hurts monumentally worse today."

For the first time in what felt like eons, he was unable to fight the urge of his hand twitching and reaching for yours. And his heart dropped as he felt a branch slip from his grasp.

"No," he hissed in a panic, already moving away from his throne to start chasing after it before the light inside of it began to fade and the branch would die.

Only it didn't. The green glow emanating from the branch remained as vibrant as it was when it was within Loki's grasp. It didn't even move too far away that he'd been able to return it to his hand after a few strides, as if nothing had happened.

"What--"

"I need to be honest, God of Time," a voice spoke from the void. "I was hoping you'd come to this realization a bit sooner."

"Who's out there?!" he yelled out, already conjuring duplicates of himself to be at the ready in case he would need to fight. "Show yourself, intruder."

First a pair of white glowing orbs materialized a mere few feet from where you once were the day that Loki last saw you. And then a body that resembled that of monks on Midgard, in robes that vaguely resembled the ones that he also wore, only set in different colors.

"There is no need to be alarmed, son of Odin. I pose no threat to you. I am the Watcher. I monitor all events within the multiverse, and I have been keeping an eye on how you have been adjusting to your new responsibility as the savior of the timelines."

"How did you get here?" He hadn't done away with his duplicates yet. Each of them were still poised to attack if this Watcher was lying and threatened the safety of the timelines. Any timeline.

"I was made aware of another set of eyes watching over the multiverse once you ascended your throne," the Watcher explained. "This plane is unreachable to most beings within these universes that we watch over, that is true. I am here and I can reach you because I live in the same plane. Think of it as a different room within a house."

"What realization did you speak of earlier?" He made the decision to move the topic along, his question about the branch not dying despite slipping from his fingers truly being the most pressing matter.

"You created a tree," the Watcher answered simply. "In its infancy, like any living thing, it requires a great amount of care. Do you agree?"

Why was this person speaking to him as if he were a child? "Yes, of course, but this doesn't explain what--"

"After it has been given enough time and care, however," he continued, not allowing the god to finish his sentence. "Would you also agree that it would not require as close of a supervision? Once a tree has grown to a certain size, on Earth or Asgard or any other realm, it requires less frequent tending to. It draws most of its energy, its nutrients, its life…from its foundation. The roots have become strong enough to support the rest of the tree, for the most part."

"I…I believe I'm beginning to see your point."

"You've created a tree," he repeated. "And its roots have taken form. They have strengthened. Now I know quite well how you are when spoonfed your answers, so I will leave the rest of this lesson for you to discover on your own. Be well, God of Time."

With that, the Watcher disappeared, once again leaving Loki on his lonesome. The lesson still not fully learned and due a good deal of experimentation.

He started with one branch in each hand, letting them slip from his grasp and observing how they behaved. When there was no visible change and he'd realized that he couldn't feel any loss of life within those two branches, he released another pair. And another. And another.

Suddenly the lesson became crystal clear. He need not keep such vigilant watch on the timelines any longer. Much like a tree, it can be left to grow and flourish on its own, needing only the occasional visit to fortify and further nourish its foundation.

He could step down from this throne removed from time and space. He could end his isolation.

He could come home. To you.

It took a good long while, it could have been minutes or it could have been years, seeing as he constantly reinforced each branch with enough of his magic before setting them free. But finally his hands were empty, and the cape that had refashioned itself to hold more timelines roamed free as well.

He took a few moments to re-familiarize himself with his range of motion, bending and stretching in various positions to ensure that there were no sore points in his body. After that, it didn't take him long to decide on his next course of action.

Before he opened up a portal to his destination, he reinforced the foundation of the tree one last time, hopefully putting enough of a buffer that it would be a good long while before he would need to return.

Hopefully when he did, he would not be walking through the portal alone.

Once he was satisfied with the tree's reinforcements, and he could see that each branch was still existing safely and peacefully in its own place within the multiverse, he conjured a portal. Leading to the familiar corridors of Asgard's palace.

He'd forgotten what it felt like to have the sun on his face, to hear the footsteps of Asgard's people echoing throughout the halls. The sudden onslaught to his senses nearly disoriented him, but he persisted, striding down the hall and barely noticing how the people he passed began to look upon him and whisper words along the lines of Is that him? He's returned? Must we alert someone?

Soon enough he'd arrived at the doors to your chambers, nearly stumbling on his own feet because he couldn't move through the doors fast enough. "Y/N?" he called out, hoping that perhaps he'd arrived at an early enough hour of the day that you were still inside, preparing yourself for your duties ahead.

When enough time had passed with no answer, he accepted that he would have to embark on a search throughout the palace to find you.

"Before I have the guards take you, I expect you to explain yourself," a familiar aged voice pierced the silence of the room. "Who are you and why are you in the princess' marital cham--Loki?"

He turned and he was face to face with Odin, pure shock and a mixture of other expressions he'd never seen on the Allfather coloring his face. His mouth hung open, as if unable to find any words for what he was seeing.

"Hello, Father," Loki began, not entirely sure of what he could say after all the time that had passed. Before he could try and find any words, however, the Allfather's next action stunned him to complete silence.

He bent the knee, bowing his head to the ground.

"Come now, Father, this truly is unnecessary, there were times I've been gone for much longer," he attempted to joke, the tone coming out unnaturally, seeing as it had been eons since he'd actually spoken to anyone other than the Watcher.

Of course a tiny part of him relished in this moment, however. The Allfather bowed to no one. At least he thought…

"Y/N has kept us apprised of what you'd done, my son," he spoke, rising to his feet. "Of what you'd sacrificed to not only save the Nine Realms, but beyond our time, beyond our universe. She has worked tirelessly to ensure that all realms within her reach know the tale of your heroism. That they know you for who you truly are."

Odin motioned for him to look upon the parchments on your desk, illustrations depicting what you'd called "The Heart of Yggdrasil" on a handful of them.

"Children on Asgard and Midgard, and all realms in between, ask her what you are the god of now," Odin began to explain. "She tells them all that you are more than a god now. That you are the best of us. For those who cannot grasp such a large concept she named you the Keeper of Time. For the rest she named you the Savior of the Multiverse."

Loki found it near impossible to breathe trying to process the information, trying to understand that all this time the parchments that you'd been working on had been to tell one specific story. His story.

"She makes me seem some sort of hero," he said in awe.

"From the tales she has told, it is very much deserved." The Allfather clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving a squeeze as if making sure that he was truly there. "I'm proud of you, my son. We should have a ceremony to celebrate your return, and to anoint you your new titles. You have been greatly missed, by your family, by the people, but by no one more than Y/N."

There were no words he could muster to respond adequately other than, "Where is she? Where can I find my wife?"

Odin righted his stance, motioning toward the door. "I suggest trying the training fields. Thor does his best to keep her occupied so her mind won't wander too far. I suspect he will make more of an effort today considering--"

"Today marks a decade since our wedding," Loki finished, his heart constricting at the thought of you struggling to not even think of today, to keep yourself distracted until the last possible moment that you would have to be alone in your chambers, once again sobbing like he had seen you this morning. He began to step toward the corridor. "Thank you, Father."

Do not worry, my darling Y/N. You need not shed any more tears over our separation. Once I find you and have you in my embrace I will never let you go again.

When he made his way to the training gardens he was once again met with a pang of disappointment to find nobody there. Your sparring session with Thor must have reached its conclusion.

Still he attempted to call out to you. "Y/N? Little Princess?"

Again you did not answer, but Loki was met with another familiar voice. "Brother?"

He turned toward the direction of the voice, greeting Thor with a tentative smile, once again trying his hand at his former playful, mischievous tone. "Hello, Brother. Did you miss me?"

Once the blond god had made his way over he only responded by clapping both hands on his shoulders. "Y/N told us of your fate. How is this possible?"

"When last I saw her she stubbornly told me that there had to be another way," he explained, words getting caught in the lump in his throat. "I should have listened to my wife."

"She has been completely beside herself today," Thor offered, looking away the second his eyes began to fill with tears. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "It is agonizing seeing her like this, especially after she'd been doing so well the last few years. But today…today has taken its toll on her. More than she would ever admit, at least to me." He gave his brother's shoulders a light squeeze, not too dissimilar from how their father did a few moments ago. "Your return is the best possible gift you can give her today. Welcome back, Brother."

"Where can I find her?" Loki's tone had grown a touch desperate, his desire to find you and finally hold you again physically making his muscles ache. "Father told me to look here…"

"The armory," his brother finally answered. "She told me she would be there checking on the quality of the wooden swords for the young soldiers in training and that she wishes to be left alone, but I think she would be more than happy to make an exception for you."

He broke into a run, haphazardly thanking his brother before letting his feet carry him to the armory as fast as they could manage. The sound of your voice softly singing a familiar tune that brought him back to the days leading up to the festival for the Autumnal Equinox mere months before you two had become betrothed.

How shamefully oblivious he was back then to the fact that you'd been singing this while thinking of him. So consumed in his own efforts to hide away his affection for fear that you would find him so abominable that he had been unable to see that you had been doing exactly the same.

When he finally looked through the open door of the armory, it was as if he'd forgotten how to breathe, seeing how the light from the window hit your features just so that you seemed an angel. A forlorn angel with puffy eyes and a crease between your brows as you willed yourself to keep focused on the task at hand.

My darling wife.

"No weapons for you today, dear Daughter," your father declared before plucking away your dagger from your hand and placing it down on a nearby bench. "Your mind is far too pre-occupied I cannot in good conscience allow you to spar with anything that could harm either of us."

Instead of sparring as you normally did, him with varying weapons while you stayed your course with your daggers, he tested your defenses. You knew quite well why he'd chosen to spar like this today. It was to keep your mind reactive, your reflexes sharp, and dissuade your mind from thinking of much else in the process.

But ultimately after a few rounds of him too easily breaking through your defenses of crossed arms weakly attempting to push back, he stopped. "Daughter, are you sure you wish to train today? I truly would understand if you wish to--"

"To what, Father?" you interjected, a slight sneer pulling at your upper lip. "To stay in the kitchens and gorge myself with every little cake and pastry I lay my sights on? To see how many pitchers of wine I could consume before I stumble into my chambers and fall asleep?"

"Y/N I simply meant--"

"Look, Father, I'm already sad. On any given day. There is nothing to gain in changing my routine today in a way that would make me any sadder. Today is simply another day, much like the day before and the day after." Your voice choked on your own words, as if your white lies were so potent your own body was recoiling against it. "I will be alright."

Those words tasted the most bitter on your tongue. No, you wouldn't be alright. You hadn't been alright for quite some time.

The sound of Halley's steps bounding toward where you and your father were standing did not alleviate your souring mood any. "Princess! Princess ohh have you heard--"

"Shall I take a guess, my friend?" She excitedly nodded her head telling you to continue. "Fandral and Narda have returned from their betrothal ceremonies across the Realms and they've revealed that they eloped. Probably in Vanaheim. Or even Alfheim."

Her smile dropped, concern coloring her features. "Y/N do you truly not know who has returned to us?"

You shook your head stubbornly. "Halley, much as I am elated for our friend I cannot bring myself to smile and put today out of my mind. Please, do go and send my congratulations to both of them when you see them later in the day but…I'm afraid that I will simply be poor company to keep today."

The words were near impossible to utter through the lump in your throat, a slight hiccup escaping you and making you step away from both of them.

"Princess, if you would please--"

"I will be in the armory," you spoke dismissively. "Ensuring that the wooden swords are still safe to be used. I would appreciate it if I were to be left alone for the remainder of the day."

Thor knew there were no words that could bring you comfort this day in particular, so all he could do was respect your wishes. "I shall have the staff bring your dinner to the armory then."

You gave both him and Halley a single nod before you strode down the corridors toward the armory, sloppily wiping at the fat tears rolling down your cheeks with the sleeve of your dress. Normally you were able to put up a brave enough front so that your friends and family would not have to be so concerned for your well-being, but today…today was nearly impossible to maintain that facade.

Too many thoughts plagued you today of how your hours could have been spent celebrating with your husband; you felt as if the sun was cruel to pull you from those blissful dreams where Loki was by your side and you got to celebrate a decade together like you were meant to. The dreams had felt so real, much like the first times you'd dreamt of your beloved when salacious images overtook your subconscious. So real that when you were ripped from them you couldn't hold back the tears that wracked your body.

And things were only made worse when you felt the breeze in your chambers. The windows were closed, and as were the doors. There should be no wind coming in to your bed chambers, and by that logic you knew exactly what had caused the anomaly.

And guilt overcame you knowing that you'd given your husband enough cause for concern crying in bed the way you were so early in the day that he reached out. The gentle caresses of the breeze that should not be possible ruffling your hair as if trying to tuck it behind your ear the way he used to.

He had enough on his mind keeping watch of all the timelines, he should not be burdened further by witnessing your grieving.

You hadn't felt him at all since that exchange, and for the most part you were grateful for it. The memory of his words the last time you saw each other worsened your guilt. I can't hold you. I couldn't watch you break like this and do nothing.

Perhaps it was better that he look away.

You made your way to the rack that held the wooden swords, lightly running a finger across the dulled blades and immediately finding a dented spot that formed a sharp corner. "That won't do…" you muttered, pulling up a stool and grabbing some sanding paper from a nearby drawer to start filing away and dull the weapon once more.

Absentmindedly you'd begun to start humming an old tune you once sang in the music room, back then trying to express your frustration over finding yourself falling in love with Loki.

I'd let you ruin the rest of my life

How was it that somehow the words rang truer now that you were his wife compared to back then when you were still in the midst of falling?

The sound of another humming along to the tune had you sitting up with your back ramrod straight and alert. "I said I wished to be alone why is everyone so insistent on--" You turned around to berate the unwelcome visitor, only for your words to die off in a rather unbecoming sound in the back of your throat as you saw the figure at the door.

"Hello, little Princess."

"Oh Norns, this is it," you muttered to yourself. "I've finally lost my grip on reality. Hallucinating my husband in the middle of the day and I haven't even had a single sip of wine." You promptly put away the wooden sword and disposed of the sanding paper. "Perhaps I'd inhaled too much of the wood dust and now it's having a bizarre effect on me--"

Your words were cut short feeling a hand curve around your waist, a body walking up behind you and pressing against your back. "I promise you, my love, this is no hallucination…" The air around you became near impossible to breathe as his arm wrapped around your waist, working his free hand up to put your hair over your shoulder and expose the back of your neck.

"Why does this feel so real?" you questioned breathily when your illusion had pressed his lips to the back of your neck, kissing a path to your ear, your voice thinning to the point you could barely utter the words. "Is this Valhalla?"

"No, my darling," he mumbled against your hear, his exhale warming your skin. He turned you around in his arms, placing your hands over his shoulders. "I truly am here. With you."

Tears began to blur your eyes as you tentatively touched your hand to his hair, the air leaving your lungs once he turned his head to kiss a trail from your palm to the inside of your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours.

You shook your head at him, refusing to accept what was right in front of you. "Loki I said no more illusions, don't do this to me," you pleaded, already starting to step back from him.

He had his arms around you, pulling you back into his embrace the second you moved even a fraction of an inch away from him. "This is no illusion, little Princess, I swear to you." He brought your hands back up to his lips, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

Before you could utter a word in question, he grabbed the back of your neck and captured your lips in a desperate kiss, his other arm wrapping around you to lift you off the ground and set you down on the now empty wooden desk. You whimpered against him when his hands began to roam your body, grasping frantically at whatever was within his reach to press you harder against him.

You felt the sting of hot tears behind your eyes as you held on to him just as tight, feeling the skin straining and stretching over your knuckles with how hard you grasped at his back. If this was real, you would not allow him to slip from your fingers so easily.

Not like last time.

This time when you pulled away he was still there. You both were. "How is this possible?" you breathed out, your stubborn mind finally beginning to relent and accept that perhaps he truly was here, that this was no illusion cast by your husband to calm you some on what should be such an auspicious day for both of you. You rested your head on his shoulder, tears once again starting to fall down your cheeks. "How are you here?"

"I was wrong, little Princess. There was another way. It took a good deal of time for the solution to be plausible, but I finally found another way."

Neither of you moved from your spot, him stroking your hair and pressing a kiss to the top of your head whenever you sniffled, as he told you about how he'd seen you in your state just this morning and how the branch slipped from his hold. About the other being on that plane of existence called The Watcher leading him to the discovery that a strong enough foundation had finally been built. That now it would only need the occasional visit from him to ensure that its foundation was continually strengthened.

And finally about how the first thing he thought of once he was fully freed from the branches of the timelines was coming home and finding you.

You sat quiet for a good few moments, allowing his words to sink in before you spoke again. "Does this mean…you're staying?" you managed to choke out before a fresh wave of tears begun to fall from your eyes.

"Yes, my love," he whispered into your hair, pressing a tender kiss to the same spot before tilting your head to look up at him, wiping your tears away. "I'm home."

He pressed his lips to yours once more, smiling against your lips when you threw your arms around his neck. He tightened his hold on you, breathing out a slight chuckle when you yelped at the feeling of the table disappearing from under you. When you opened your eyes, you were suddenly in your bed chambers, your husband carrying you across the room in his arms.

"That's…new…" you mumbled against his lips when he kissed you again.

"Eons have passed for me since last we saw each other in our chambers, my darling wife," he whispered into your skin, placing a soft lingering kiss below your ear before laying you down on the bed, your back settling into the soft mattress. "And yet through all that time my body, my heart, only ever craved to have you with me again."

Your heart felt as if it could burst at any moment. After all the time that had passed, it felt completely foreign to you, finally feeling as if you were no longer simply dragging yourself through life. There was no longer a void in your life in the shape of your beloved.

The visions of what your new future could hold now that he had returned overwhelmed you, rendering you unable to do much of anything other than pull him down to you so you could kiss him again, sighing into his mouth when he pressed his weight onto the bed and proceeded to deepen your kiss.

"In that time, little Princess, let's just say my abilities have…evolved. And in mastering them all, I've often thought about how I might use those abilities in this very room. Once we'd reunited and your memories have all been freed."

A small gasp escaped you as you watched a wave of his magic washed over the entirety of your chambers, a slight barrier appearing by the windows and doors before visibly fading into nothing. "Silencing enchantment?" you queried, unable to help the smile that stretched across your face.

"We'll need it, my love." With a small twitch of his fingers, both his robes and your dress dissolved into nothing, baring your bodies to each other. "Oh how I've missed this," he rasped, a thrill shooting through you as you watched him rake his eyes across your body before licking his lips. "How I've missed you."

"Husband," you whined, squirming under his gaze, the undeniable affection and desire shining in his eyes stealing all the breath from your lungs. "I've missed you."

Loki leaned down to hover over you, lips tracing along the bridge of your nose before proceeding to press featherlight kisses all over your face, letting out a shuddering groan when skin met skin, your chests pressed together as you trailed your fingertips down the length of his arm. Once you reached his hand, lacing your fingers between his, tears began to well in your eyes again as the gold band around his ring caught the light.

"You got the ring," you said in wonder, your breath coming out like a bewildered chuckle as he brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss along the backs of your fingers.

"Of course I did. For so long it was the only thing that brought me a sense of comfort, every time I looked upon it, it was almost as if I could feel you with me." He released your hand, leaning back down to capture your lips in a slow, languorous kiss. "And now I finally do."

You moaned against his lips as his hand wrapped around your knee, hooking your leg around him as he proceeded to roll his hips into yours.

"I know we should probably announce my return," he said in a teasing tone. "But I haven't even the slightest urge at the moment to do anything other than…reunite with my darling wife." He smirked against your lips as you whimpered desperately at the feel of him lining himself up at your entrance. "The only thing I plan on keeping for the foreseeable future is the love of my life, on our marital bed. Any and all forms of clothing forbidden."

"I have no objections to that," you said back breathlessly. "Happy anniversary, husband."

"Happy anniversary, my love."

One day, centuries after your reunion, Loki helped you into a set of robes that seemed more suitable for lounging than anything else before conjuring up a portal that led back to the tree. He would have to be there for a while, tending to the branching timelines and ensuring that they would all stand on their own for a good long while after he would once again leave them to grow and flourish on their own.

"I want you to come with me, darling. We could make an adventure of it."

He didn't need to ask twice. You would go to the ends of the world with him.

He held your hand firmly in his as he led you through the portal toward the solitary throne he once occupied, giving you a soft smile as you discovered the changes he made to the space before he went home to you all those years ago.

There were now two thrones at the heart of the tree.

A/N: I had to make it better I couldn't just leave my precious blorbos in pain even if this is an alternate universe 🥺🥺 And I just had to add that little bit of Odin bending the knee as a treat 🫡

Here's the song that gave me most of the vibe for this story:

And here's the song that Y/N was singing in the armory:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #loki angst #loki laufeyson angst #muddyorbs writes #Spotify

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thecuriousquest · 9 months

Note

AIZAWA HAVING A YOUNGER SISTER FIC PLS ❤️❤️

Hell on Earth

Platonic!Yandere Aizawa x Little Sister Reader

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, intimidation, controlling behavior, murder

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

“Hand me your phone,” Aizawa demands with his palm out.

“What? Why?” Your brows furrow in anger and shock from his sudden order.

Shouta does this all the time to you, and it’s completely annoying. He’s always sticking his nose in your business. This week, your parents asked him to watch you while they’re out of town since you need to go to school. That means you have to live under the strict eye of one Shouta Aizawa for an entire week.

“Because you’ve been on it all day, and I want to make sure you’re not doing anything inappropriate. If you don’t want to lose it entirely, you’ll hand it over.”

Brushing your fingers through your locks, you declare, “You’re not my freaking dad, Shouta. Buzz off.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. Chuckling slightly, he removes his capture weapon from around his neck and binds you with it. He pulls you towards him, and you sail through the air until you come face to face with your pissed off older brother. Gulping, you begin to rethink your attitude as his raven hair floats about while his eyes shine like scarlet stars.

“Excuse me? Would you like to repeat that, young lady?”

You shake your head as your lower lip pokes out.

“Listen closely because I’m only going to say this once. Me not being your father is irrelevant. You’re living under my roof for a week. It would be in your best interest to follow my rules and obey when I tell you to do something. If you’re trying to hide something from me, I have the means to find out what it is. Are you going to hand over your phone?”

The only response you can manage is a nod. With cheeks heated up from his intimidation tactic, he lets you down as he deactivates his quirk. Once the capture weapon is placed back around his neck, he sticks his hand out for your phone once more.

Reluctantly, you give it to him. He spends a few minutes scrolling through your phone before he glares at you.

“Who’s Makoto, and why is there a heart beside his name?”

Your face feels even hotter than before. “Oh, um…he’s my boyfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend? You’re too young to be dating. Does Mom and Dad know about this?”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look away from Aizawa. “Not really.”

“That’s what I thought. You’re not allowed to be dating at this age. You-”

“Oh, screw you, Shouta! I can date whoever the hell I want. I’m sixteen years old!”

“Don’t be so disrespectful. You’re just a little kid. You have no idea how awful the boys your age can be. As your big brother, it’s my job to look out for you. If I even so much as hear that you’re talking to him, you’ll be punished.” He pockets your phone and gives you a look of disappointment. Tiredly, he tells you to go to your room.

You stomp to the guest room of his apartment and slam the door shut. Sitting down on the bed, you scream into your pillow and cry.

———

Breakfast is stressful. You thought staying here was going to be fun, but so far, you’ve been scolded, had your phone taken away, and banished to the guest bedroom for the night.

“Shouta, when can I have my phone back?” You ask bravely with a piece of toast in your hand.

“I’m hanging onto it until Mom and Dad get back. I’ll give it to them, and they can decide when to give it back to you.”

A whine almost escapes your mouth. You never whine, but you can’t help the foot stomp that follows what he just told you. “It’s my phone though!”

Sipping his coffee, he shakes his head. “No, our parents pay for your phone. They bought it for you, and they pay the monthly bill. It’s not your phone, and you’ve shown me that you’re not mature enough to handle the responsibility of having a phone.”

“But my friends are texting me!”

“You can talk to them at school like a normal person and explain why you had your phone taken from you.”

Crossing your arms with a sudden burst of defiance, you blurt out, “Yeah, I’ll just tell them that my brother is being an unreasonable asshole and lives to make my life hell on earth.”

Setting his mug down none too gently, he glares at you. “Congratulations. You just got yourself grounded for a week as well. Come home right after school.”

Standing up from the table, you grab your book bag and storm out of the room. “I hate you, Shouta!” You slam the apartment door behind you and leave for school.

———

It hurts your heart entirely when you see someone hit Makoto with their car and drive off. You run over to him and kneel beside him on the ground. Your fingers try to find his pulse, but there’s nothing beating against your fingertips.

“Help him!” You scream at the people staring.

They’re using their phones to record the event, but nobody is making a call.

“Someone, help! Please, someone!” You hug Makoto’s body close to your chest and weep into his blood soaked hair.

You would do it yourself, but you don’t have your phone right now.

There are sirens in the distance, but you don’t really hear them. You don’t register them until someone is pulling Makoto’s body from you. You touch his hand for the last time as you watch EMTs place him on a stretcher.

There are policemen asking you questions, but you can barely hear them. Your attention is fixed on one thing and one thing only: your boyfriend’s body being put in the back of a vehicle.

———

Shouta finds you in a seat at the hospital. You’re crying your eyes out as Makoto has just been reported dead. They couldn’t do anything to save him.

He walks over to you and places a hand on your arm. “Bug, what happened? What’s going on?”

“M-Mak-Makoto! He’s dead!” You instantly fall apart, breaking down in sobs as you lean against him for solace.

Your brother wraps his arms around you in return. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. He was too young. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Someone just hit him and kept going! How could they do something like that?”

“People out there will do really horrible things sometimes. I’m going to keep you safe, though. I promise.”

He’s happy that your face is glued to his chest because, right now, he doesn’t want you to see the smile curling on his lips. It’s a smile that he can’t help. So what if he had to wipe the earth of Makoto? Shouta is going to sleep well tonight knowing that the temptation of your former boyfriend is no longer an issue. He’s just so elated to have his baby sister back to himself.

#my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #triggering content #triggering themes #shouta aizawa #mha shouta #bnha aizawa #aizawa sensei #yandere brother #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere aizawa #yandere aizawa headcanons #platonic yandere aizawa #yandere eraserhead

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heartpascal · 1 year

Note

Re: drabbles, my favorite stories are I’ll be brave, so far from it, and all my faith but I don’t have any scenarios off the top of my head 🤨 a drabble à la the crooked kind would be so fun to read!!

but honestly anything and everything you put out, I will read. I eat it up every time.

▹— pre-outbreak!joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: drabble from the crooked kind universe! • the time joel realised what your home life is like.

▹— a/n: my first ever drabble pls go easy on me D: (also if you have any situations you’d like written for this universe or others just send in a request!)

▹— warnings: abusive & neglectful family, almost father figure joel, sarah is your best friend, mention of argument with parents

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Perhaps, he thinks now, Joel should have been suspicious of what you and Sarah had been hiding the third time you were sleeping over during the week. After all, most parents had a no-school-nights rule, and you were always quite skittish around him when he asked you questions. You also never responded well to him asking to speak to your parents, insisting that he didn’t.

But in his defence, he didn’t have a no-school-nights rule, so he figured that maybe, your parents didn’t either. It wasn’t a terrible assumption to make, although he’d given up on speaking to your parents pretty easily.

You and Sarah always got up on time for school, and you didn’t cause much trouble. Besides stocking up on some of your preferred snacks, you hadn’t had much of an impact on the Miller household, you actually blended in so well that it was like you were always there.

It was on the now sixth time of you staying at the Miller residence during the week that Joel was really starting to get suspicious. Over the course of the past three weeks, you had spent days and nights at his and Sarah’s, without so much of a word from your parents. Joel knew that he wouldn’t be all too happy if his daughter was out of the house for so long, but what could he do? Hell, even Sarah got defensive over him trying to talk about your parents.

The seventh time, he couldn’t keep quiet.

“Hey, kids?” He called up the stairs, having seen your shoes stored away neatly by the door. It was usually around dinner that Sarah begged for you to be allowed to stay the night, and that time was fast approaching. Joel figured it was best to nip this in the bud.

“What is it, dad?” Sarah yelled back, and Joel rolled his eyes at the attitude she was already showing. He resisted the urge to do that annoying parent thing, where they just didn’t answer your reply after they yelled you first.

“Come on down here, the both of you!” He responded after a moment of hesitation, hearing the vague sound of the two of you sharing hushed whispers. Joel moved on into the living room when he heard the steps coming down the hallway, the two of you finally descending the stairs when he had taken a seat on the sofa.

Sarah looked nervous, though you looked far more so, with trembling hands that you wrapped tightly around the straps of your backpack, already worn on your back. “Dad?” Sarah asked, after he hadn’t spoken for more than a moment of the two girls standing in the room.

Joel sighed, nodding his head to the couch and waiting for you both to sit down before he spoke again. “Listen, I think we need to have a talk.” He began, frowning when Sarah immediately cut him off from saying anything else.

“Dad, are you being serious?” She asked, eyes wide and defensive, and her sudden alarm wasn’t improving your nerves, either, and you were looking more anxious by the second. The last thing you wanted was for Sarah to get into trouble for you. “You’re being unreasonable! She needs to stay over here—”

Joel decided to play at Sarah’s own game, holding a stern look on his face as he cut her off. “Sarah, that’s enough. I ain’t said a word, just yet, calm yourself down.” He told her, not liking the frown she held on her expression. Joel turned his gaze to you, softening his expression when you shrunk under his gaze. “Now you two listen to me, alright? I don’t mind you stayin’ here. Can stay as many nights as you please, but god, kiddo, are your parents really alright with that?”

Sarah moved as if she was going to jump in, save you from speaking, but Joel fixed her with the strict dad-look, and she sat back, looking towards you with an apologetic gaze.

“Yeah, they’re—they don’t mind it, one bit. But I can go back, I don’t mean to be overstayin’ my welcome.” You rambled on, giving Sarah an urgent look as she opened her mouth to oppose your words, causing her to move her glare over to her dad.

“And the reason you have to stay here?” Joel asked after a moment, almost hesitantly. But if there was something more going on, he had to know about it. He was the parent here, and it was his job to look after the people under his roof.

You practically withered under the combination of his look and his question, clutching your bag straps tightly, like you were ready to head off with a moment’s notice.

“It’s nothin’, Mr. Miller, we just like hangin’ over here. Your place is much nicer than mine, right Sarah?” You looked to her pleadingly, and Joel��s suspicion only grew when Sarah nodded painfully quickly, confirming your words.

He didn’t believe you, not for a second, but decided to let the two of you off the hook.

It was the eighth time that Joel knew.

He felt sick to his stomach for not picking up on it before, for not actively trying to find out what was wrong when he knew something wasn’t quite right. For a moment, he also became angry with his own daughter, for not telling him.

The incessant knocking on the door came late that night, and given it was close to 9PM and dark out, Joel wondered who the hell would be coming to his house. It couldn’t have been Tommy — he would never knock, so Joel truly had no idea.

When he opened the door, he certainly didn’t expect to be met with you, backpack slung over your shoulders, your eyes squinting through the rain that was coming down heavy.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You greeted, shakily, and he didn’t miss the tremor in your tone as he ushered you inside out of the cold rain. You tried not to look too nervous under his scrutiny, tried to remain brave and nonchalant as he closed the door after you. “I’m really sorry, but could I stay over here tonight?” You asked him then, and Joel could’ve sworn he heard his own heart break at your voice.

“Jesus Christ,” He said, eyes wide as he took you in, soaked to the bone, your eyes shining with something that wasn’t from the weather. “Of course you can, kiddo, c’mon, let’s get you dried off.”

Whilst you took your shoes off, aiming not to traipse wet footsteps all throughout their house, Joel shouted up to Sarah to bring some towels. She didn’t hesitate given the urgency in his tone.

“What happened?” Sarah asked desperately as Joel took the towels from her hands to wrap them around you as you shivered, turning to look at Sarah with a nervous smile.

Joel didn’t miss the way you nervously looked in his direction, and busied himself taking the school bag from your hand and placing it down in the hallway. “Just got into a fight with my parents, ‘s’all.” You said, clearly downplaying whatever had gone on in your household. Joel’s attention was caught, that was for certain, and now he regretted every letting you go back to your own house, especially when you so often looked reluctant to leave.

Sarah looked towards Joel, much like you had, before she turned back to you, where you held the towel around your shoulders tighter. “Was it about you stayin’ over?”

You shook your head. “No, didn’t make my bed this morning.” You told her, not seeing the way Joel’s face fell. He couldn’t imagine telling Sarah off for something so badly that she left home late evening, in the pouring rain, let alone over an unmade bed.

“Kiddo,” Joel sighed, placing a hand against your shoulder, a look of slight anguish on his expression. “The two of you should’ve told me what was really goin’ on. You could’ve stayed as long as you liked.”

You frowned, your eyes still teary as you looked at your best friend’s dad, “Didn’t wanna keep botherin’ you.”

“You’re not a bother,” He said firmly, “Now c’mon, let’s get you into some dry clothes. You eaten?” At the shake of your head, his frown deepened further, but he nodded. “Then we’ll get you some food, alright?”

He let Sarah take you upstairs, off to borrow some spare clothes, and he cooked whilst you changed, just hearing the faint sounds of your quiet conversation with Sarah. He felt bad, not being the greatest cook, but he figured even shitty pre-packaged macaroni cheese would be alright with you. In fact, he often found that when you and Sarah had sleepovers, his supply of mac n’ cheese depleted.

You sat on the couch when Joel brought you a bowl of macaroni cheese, something unsettled in your eyes, but you smiled faintly at him.

“Now, you listen to me, alright? Anythin’ happens, and I mean anything, you can come here. Don’t even need to ask.” He said to you firmly, pretending he didn’t see the wobble to your lip that you hid behind your bowl.

“Thanks, dad.” Sarah said softly, responding for you, because she knew you better than you knew yourself. She sat between you and her dad, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“‘Course. But hey, if you’re gonna be stayin’ more often, you drink coffee in the morning?” Joel asked, bringing some lightness back to the conversation, his chosen topic coaxing a snicker from you as Sarah groaned, sick of her dad’s coffee addiction.

“That stuff’s gonna give you a heart attack, you know.” She said matter-of-factly, raising her eyebrows at her dad.

“Milk and two sugars,” You responded, the tremble in your voice replaced with a tinge of amusement, and Joel laughed with you at the sigh of annoyance Sarah let out.

— taglist: @auggiesolovey, @just-kaylaa, @evyiione, @lemonlaides, @fariylixie0915, @erensloveinterest, @dazedshoon, @faceache111, @randomhoex, @canpillowscry, @sleepygraves, @pedropascalsrealgf, @star-wars-lover, @coolchick333, @soobsdior, @ilybbg, @rvjaa

please let me know if you want your tag added/removed !!!

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller x reader #joel miller platonic #father figure joel miller #sarah miller tlou #joel miller drabble #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #heartpascal drabbles

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