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01zfan · 3 months

Note

Can you please write something about like when reader and riize members are having fun and someone walks on them !!! Please :) I love your work so much>>

close enough | riize

boyfriend!riize x reader | 4.1k words

contains: sneaking around and unfortunately getting caught, semi public, members walking in, blowjobs (m. receiving), hand stuff, shower sex

shotaro

i talked about shotaro here

more under the cut

eunseok

it would be on the couch in the shared living room. everyone else had retired to their dorms after a movie night, leaving you and eunseok alone underneath a blanket. you two have been so well behaved the whole day, not subjecting anyone to your public displays of affection. neither of you let it go beyond hand holding or sharing a drink. now that it was just the two of you, you were both able to let it all out.

when eunseok heard the door to all the rooms close he instantly started kissing your knuckles and pulling your legs to rest across his lap. he still kept his eyes on the television, acting like he was paying attention to what was playing. eunseok is always a tease and this was no different, working his lips from your hand to your bicep to your shoulder and your neck. a century seemed to pass by before eunseok finally started kissing your lips.

eunseok and you would both be as quiet as possible, silently kissing while you moved closer to him. it would eventually be eunseok with his hand behind your back, his finger dipping underneath the waistband of your pants while the other rested on your calf. the pressure of his hand on your leg would change constantly, going from a grip to him lightly tracing shapes on your skin.

his hand on your calf slowly creeped up your leg and anticipation started bubbling over you. you casted one more glance to all the closed doors of the rooms in the dorm. the fact that there was only a wooden door separating the boys from seeing you like this excited you. it made you spread your legs on eunseok’s lap and further settle into him. he pulled away only for a second to reposition you, moving your body so he could kiss you without you having to strain your neck too much.

after readjusting he went right back to kissing you smiling against your lips when you pushed deeper into his mouth.

“what do you need?” eunseok whispered against your lips.

eunseok smiled when he pulled away from your lips, looking at you think about how you wanted him. you leaned back in, barely grazing your lips against his before casting your eyes upward at him.

“your fingers.” you whispered.

you were afraid your voice was too quiet, lost over the sound of eunseok taking off your pants underneath the blanket. eunseok heard you loud and clear though, his fingers instantly going to your clit. even though you two should be in a hurry just in case someone comes out of their room eunseok can’t stop himself from taking his time with you. he works you up by caressing your thighs and running the pad of his finger up and down your slit. he enjoyed making you high strung to the point that you couldn’t even focus on kissing him anymore. you’ve been reduced down to a whimpering mess, holding onto eunseok’s arm while he teases every part of you.

when he finally starts fingering you, he does it slowly too. eunseok likes to focus on the way you lean your head against his shoulder as your whines had turned into just sharp intakes of air. this only provokes eunseok further, using a knee to separate your legs. he picks up the pace and looks at you in his shoulder.

“i’m close.” you say to him.

eunseok nods and goes a little faster, feeling your body actively start to tense up as you subconsciously spread your legs further. you’re huffing beside him leaving cresent moon shapes in his arm when wonbin’s door opens.

you instantly close you hands on eunseok’s and he snaps his head backwards to see who it is. eunseok remains nonchalant, his eyes shifting to the television as if nothing happened. you are a different story, failing miserably at trying to hide your uneven breaths and the way your eyes are glazed over.

wonbin for a moment contemplates coming down to sit next to you guys but when he sees your lips and eunseok’s hand underneath the blanket he changes his mind, making a beeline for his room again.

when the door shuts you look at eunseok with wide eyes.

“do you think he saw?” you ask.

“should i go ask him?” eunseok jokes.

sungchan

with sungchan it would be late at night in the teams car. you guys were just coming back from a date and sungchan was able to convince staff to let him drive it for the night. the mood was set from the moment you left the restaurant. something about sungchan was just a little more touchy that usual, telling you how pretty you looked every other sentence.

he would be driving you to the dorms because he begged you to stay the night, saying how bad he wants to “cuddle”. this was a dance you two always did, both of you pretending like you wouldn’t be crammed in the backseat of the car the moment you got to the dorms. too many times you would come into the dorms after your car shenanigans, barely being able to hide what you were doing. no one really caught on, both of you were lucky that the lights in the apartment were usually off by the time you guys would get back.

sungchan would put the car in park and take the keys out of the ignition before turning to look at you. no words had to be said, all sungchan had to do was spread out his legs in the driver seat. the moment he flicked his head to tell you to come over you let him use his hands to guide your hips over the center console onto his lap.

sungchan would waste no time, helping your arms out of your dress as he kissed your lips slowly. each kiss was like he had never done it before, licking your lips and tilting your head so he could take you all in. sungchan had mastered getting your clothes off while kissing you, leaving the bottom half of your dress folded down while he moved to sucking on your neck. you had barely been able to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, leaving sungchan in his white a-shirt.

“so pretty” sungchan said looking at your chest.

“me or my bra?” you asked.

sungchan immediately snapped his head up to look at you, smiling once he saw the playful look on your face. he answered you by using his soft hands to bring you in for another kiss.

it would be you who pulled away the second time, looking down at sungchan. seeing your boyfriend from this angle above him made you feel heady, it made you feel in control. sungchan’s desperate hands on your hips also made you feel unstoppable.

“let’s go to the backseat?” you ask.

you couldn’t even finish your sentence before sungchan was helping you climb over the center console to get situated in the back. you took your time to get undressed, taking off your heels and pulling your dress down the rest of the way. sungchan got out of the car to walk to the backdoor, opening it impatiently.

time always felt like it was going quickly when you two could finally get alone time in this context, but sungchan would still take off your bra and panties with such care. he definitely also doesn’t even try to be sneaky about putting your crumpled pair of panties in the center conole for when you’re not with him.

“you little freak.” you said.

sungchan wouldn’t be bothered at all by your comment, he actually found himself smiling and getting a harder at the playful lift to your voice.

“you’re the one that wants me to fuck you in the backseat.” sungchan said matter-of-factly.

sungchan pushed your body down gently across the leather seats before taking off his belt. he’s so impatient he doesn’t even take the time to fully get undressed, his slacks and underwear resting mid-thigh as he slotted himself between your legs.

now it was sungchan looking down at you, watching clasp your hand over your mouth to stifle your whines. sungchan’s fingers you quickly, loving how the acoustics of the staff car amplify your whimpers.

“you ready?” sungchan asked you.

you were be reduced to only actions, nodding your head to let him know you need him. sungchan would bring his body all the way down until he was touching your chest, his undershirt sticking to your body as the temperature went up in the car.

while sungchan was fucking you in the company car, sohee remembered that he left something inside of it after their schedule. it truthfully wasn’t something he needed in the moment, but just the thought of not having it would’ve kept him up at night. so he asked anton to come outside with him so he could get it.

while the pair were making their way to the car, sungchan was thrusting into you with a force that shook the car. it brought him an insane amount of pride, looking up and seeing the windows of the car fog, seeing your hair stick to your forehead, the smell of sex filling his nose. you wish sungchan didn’t have his shirt on, so you could dig your nails into his skin, watch his face contort the same way yours was. instead you just opted to bringing sungchan’s chest to yours as close as possible, uncovering your mouth to moan and lick his ear.

“keep going,” you said. sungchan didn’t stop “i’m so close.”

“mhm” sungchan said.

his grip on your hips put bruises into your skin as a hand moved to your lower thigh to push it up. you were letting your head sway due to the pleasure when you caught a glimpse of the car window that was previously blocked by sungchan’s body. when you saw sohee and anton mouths agape you instantly seized around sungchan.

“oh my god!” you gasped.

sungchan who was lose in you came back to reality, eyes snapping wide thinking he might’ve hurt you.

“sohee and anton are out there!” you were practically screaming now, looking at the pairs shocked expression.

you pushed sungchan away while he whipped his body around, also caught off guard by the presence of his younger members. he would rush to pull up his pants, and give you his dress shirt to cover yourself up.

when sungchan would get out of the car he’d have to ironically scold the two for interrupting a private moment and staring. sohee and anton would look at eachother like “???” as if he’s not the one fucking in company property.

anton and sohee would get even the next day when the three of them are in the car on the way to a schedule. it would start with sohee sniffing aggressively and anton doing the same and they’re look to their managers before looking back at sungchan.

“does it smell kinda weird in here or is that just me?” anton would say with a gigantic smile on his face.

wonbin

wonbin had just come back from the gym when you were in the shower. you had complete free reign over the dorms, treating it like your playground when no one else was around. wonbin followed the sound of running water, giving you his secret knock so you knew it was him.

“come in.” you yelled over the running water.

wonbin came in and closed the door behind him. you peaked your head out from behind the open sliding door of the tub, motioning at the unlocked knob.

“it’s just me and you.” wonbin said.

you debated on telling him to lock the door again, not even wanting to risk it. but none of the guys were the type to come through without knocking anyways. so you let your body go underneath the water again, feeling the scalding hot water on your skin. the best part about the shower in the dorms is that it was hotter than the one at your apartment. you let your skin nearly burn underneath the hot water as you heard wonbin’s clothes hit the floor. you lathered your hair up with shampoo before putting yourself underneath the water.

you smiled hearing the sliding door of the shower open, and hearing wonbin step inside with you.

you heard the bottle of something open and close, then the feeling of wonbin rubbing his soapy hands over your body. you giggled while you finished washing the shampoo out of your hair.

“you just came in here to feel me up?” you asked.

you came out from under the shower head and wiped the water from your eyes. you looked at wonbin and reached past him to grab the shampoo bottle.

wonbin helped lather your body in soap while you tended to his hair, massaging the shampoo deep into his scalp. you had already been in there for quite some time, the pads of your fingers felt like prunes on the nap of wonbin’s neck. he didn’t care as you backed him underneath the shower head, helping the shampoo rinse from his hair.

it was usually playful when you and wonbin showered together, you guys helping eachother with your hair. it was like a mini spa day, turning around so wonbin could put conditioner in your head and then him turning around so you could do the same. most of the time it was strictly business, the two of you just focusing on getting clean and getting out. but there was something different in the way wonbin looked at your chest, watching the water run between the valley of your breast downwards. he couldn’t stop himself from bringing his lips to your nipple, sucking lighting on the skin. your hand instantly went to his hair, tugging on a handful of his conditioned strands.

wonbin felt the hot water run on him too, and he felt the palm of your hand press on his chest. wonbin let go of your nipple, letting the sound of him detaching bounce off the walls of the shower. he wasted no time going to the other one. water went into his mouth as he continued to suck on your doughy skin. he would rather drown than stop.

“keep going.” you said.

wonbin kept going, his hands traveling to your ass to slightly lift you. you arched your back more into his chest, and one of your hands pressed against the glass window to stabilize yourself.

it was you who pulled away from wonbin this time. you kissed him roughly, guiding him to stand behind you. you pressed both of your hands against the fogging glass of the door as wonbin understood what you needed. he grabbed his dick in his hand and pumped his length, guiding himself to your pussy. he leaned his body over to press his back against yours, biting on the skin of your shoulder.

when the door opened again, sohee came through the door. you instantly took your hands away from the glass of the door, moving backwards so sohee couldn’t see your naked figure. sohee was clearly out of it, under the impression that it was just wonbin in the shower and not you. he was lifted up his arms as he yawned, raising the toilet seat to pee.

inside the shower, you and wonbin exchanged a look of astonishment at sohee’s terrible observational skills.

“sohee” wonbin said over the sound of the shower.

sohee hummed as he continued with his morning routine. he even had to step over your discarded clothes to get to the toilet, you don’t know how he didn’t notice two different piles of clothes.

“can we have some privacy?” wonbin said.

the moment sohee heard ’we’ you could see his posture suddenly straighten and his eyes shoot wide open. his eyes went to the floor, finally seeing the two pairs of clothes laid out. sohee was out in such a rush he didn’t even both to wash his hands. when the door closed you and wonbin laughed, recounting the way sohee reacted.

sohee

sohee was with you in his room, laying on his bed. you guys were supposed to be taking a nap, you both agreed to it. but when you two somehow ended up alone one thing led to another. you decided to exercise all the self control you had left in your body to only gently peck sohee’s cheek. sohee escalated the quick pecks to chaste kisses on the lips, but then that turned into you sucking on his neck. you couldn’t help yourself when it came to sohee telling you breathlessly how good you were making him feel. you didn’t want to let your hand rest over the tent in his pants. you knew that if you touched him it would be game over, and you didn’t know how long you two would be alone. but when sohee guided you hand to rest on the tent in his pajama pants the little restraint you had left was out the window.

“we will be quick.” you said to sohee.

he nodded as you let your hand trail down his body, giving him enough space to push down his pants. that was one of the best parts about being with sohee, he was always ready to go in an instant.

you wanted to waste no time, grabbing sohee’s length in your hands and gently pumping him. he let his hands dip down the front of your shorts, going straight for your pussy. neither of you wanted to waste time, desperation driving both of your hands to go faster and deeper. it isn’t long before both of you are getting lost in eachother. sohee sticks his finger in your mouth and you suck on his digits. you see his eyes get all wide and he bends his fingers inside of you. both of you are laying side by side on his bed, almost like you two are in a race to see who can get the other off first. when you clench your hand, sohee knows he’s gonna lose.

“close.” sohee whispers to you.

you can barely say anything, just nodding and picking up the speed.

both of you are grateful you were only doing things with your hands. because if sohee had gotten you undressed like he really wanted to, neither of you would’ve been able to act like you were doing nothing when sungchan came through the door. immediately when light started peaking through the door frame and the door sohee took his hand out of your pants and pulled your hand out of his pants by your wrist.

sungchan looked at both of you, laying next to eachother on the bed with your chests heaving. sungchan would narrow his eyes and look to both of you, knowing that you know that he knows.

“there’s food outside if you want to join us.” sungchan would say suspiciously.

once the door closed you both would be letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. both of you would be pent up like crazy until you got the chance to be alone again.

anton

sneaking around with anton was equal parts exciting and terrifying. i can see anton being so nervous to the point that he wouldn’t even want to try anything if there was even a little chance of you two getting caught. but he was alone in a practice room late at night and you were on your way to come see him

anton instantly turned in his chair when he heard the door open. you came into the room and got settled immediately, setting down your bag and coat.

“missed me?” you asked.

your boyfriend would nod his head and smile, standing up to give you a big hug. seeing you come to him while in his hoodie did something to anton, causing a problem he knew only you would be able to fix. he was always sheepish to ask for anything pertaining to sex, only compunded further with the idea of getting caught. more often than not, anton would be relying on you to lead him through the motions and for you to initiate the intimacy. he would silently lead you to the couch and sit next to you. whatever music he was working on was completely forgotten as he gently squeezed your hand.

you started making a point to make anton ask for it. too often he would rely on actions, hoping you would catch his drift if he squeezed your hand enough or let his eyes stay on your lips. you had snuck through the building to come see him so the least he could do is tell you what he wants. so you let him continue to squeeze your hand and you just smiled at him coyly.

“we rarely get time alone…” anton’s voice trailed off as he motioned around the empty room.

“yeah,” you said “it’s nice.”

more silence. anton thought he would crumble from embarrassment if he had to drop another hint. you refused to give in, hand going to his leg to pinch the material of his gray sweatpants. anton watched you focus on the fabric, not looking at him until he used a large hand to tilt your head upwards.

anton kissed you first, to show you how desperate he truly was. he wasted no time pushing his tongue past your lips. anton paused kissing you only for a moment, just to see if you would kiss him back. it only took you a second to take the charge in kissing, like anton passed a figurative baton to you. a hand went to the nape of his neck to play with his hair while you led anton’s hand to rest over his crotch. you pulled away to watch him palm himself through his gray sweats, head leaning back to rest on the couch.

“what’d you call me here for?” you asked breathlessly.

anton kept his eyes closed while he continued to palm his hand. you watched his lips part in ecstasy before he licked his lips.

“i need you.” anton moaned.

he was so sensitive and pent up you’re sure that he would get off from just palming himself. you wanted to watch him cum in his pants, see his adam’s apple bob while he pressed his hand harder against his straining dick. your eyes went to the tent in his sweats, imagining his dick twitching in and trying to chase any stimulation. you wondered if it felt good feeling the cotton fabrics of his pants pressed against his length, if it felt better than your hand. you quickly felt yourself getting jealous of anton’s hand, that it was the one bringing him pleasure instead of you. he grabbed his dick over his pants, showing you the outline as he let out a tiny whimper. you took his hand off of his pants and put it on your shoulder while you got off the couch.

anton raised his head from the back of the couch to see you lowering yourself to slot between his legs. his face was already so flushed, lips red and plump from him biting them.

“you don’t have to.” anton said.

anton’s hand dug into your shoulder as you continued to situate yourself between his legs.

“i want to,” you said “just lift your hips for me a little bit.”

anton was such a good listener, lifting up his hips and pushing down his sweats just enough to free his dick. it slapped heavy against his lower stomach, the sight making you both suck in a breath.

you wrapped your hand around his length, loving how he pulsed in your hand. when you squeezed a little harder anton gasped a little louder, bucking his hips into your fist.

“fuck.” anton sighed.

he wanted to look at you but he couldn’t stop his head from leaning back against the couch again. he let his head sway to the side, so he could get a view of your hand pumping his length. you looked so small from this angle, the way you let his tip rest on your bottom lip.

“need it.” anton whispered.

before you could take him into your mouth, the door opened. anton was too caught up in you, not being able to pull himself out of your hand or pull his pants up before the person made their way in. anton’s reaction was a beat behind, the same dazed eyes he had looking at you made direct eye contact with shotaro as he came through the door. it took shotaro a moment to take the positions you and anton were in. both of their eyes widened at the same time and anton’s hand that was on your shoulder tapped you.

“please get out.” anton said once he came to.

you turned around to seeing the door shut, hearing shotaro apologize profusely on the other side while buried his face in his hands.

#requestz #shotaroz #eunseokz #sungchanz #wonbinz #soheez #antonz #01zfan: shotaro #01zfan: eunseok #01zfan: sungchan #01zfan: wonbin #01zfan: sohee #01zfan: anton #riize smut

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wesstars · 8 months

Text

sorry, baby x (i)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: you’re friends-with-benefits with wednesday (maybe a bit more on your part,) and you can’t help but push her buttons a little. wc: 5.2k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, light D/s dynamics, praise, boots, strap-on referred to as both ‘cock’ and ‘strap,’ crying, biting, denial, light choking, begging, reader shushing during sex, all that good stuff. a/n: i’m very rusty. please forgive me haha. title from killing eve. this iiissss inspired by/for someone, you know who you are ;) say hi if you find me!

read part two here!!

masterlist

The last class of the day was always the worst.

Even as the afternoon sun streamed in through the windows, casting the quiet classroom in a white gold glow, you could barely focus enough to remember what subject you were in. The instructor droned on about something or other—you were never the best at paying attention, relying on your subconscious and review session to get good grades. How could you listen when the lesson was just so boring, and you could steal the review from a certain Addams later on, anyway? You blinked slowly, trying to yawn discreetly. Calm was the atmosphere, as everyone was nearly falling asleep as the hour stretched on.

A note fluttered through the air to land gracefully in your lap.

Meet me after class.

Wednesday’s neat script, immediately recognized, made you grin, and you looked up. You spotted her, sitting next to Enid. Almost as if she could sense you looking, she spared a precious second from her notetaking to cut you a glare that could fell an army. You only laughed, covering your mouth to hopelessly hide your snicker.

The note had given you a bout of deja vu—it all started with a note, really. By virtue of you being Enid’s friend, you started in Wednesday’s peripheral circle, but you were always unafraid to confront her and eagerly prodded her to bicker with you. Enid would roll her eyes once the two of you would start again, but the way Wednesday’s neutral expression seemed to relax just a bit, made you think she didn’t mind as much.

The first time you gave her a friendly shove during a mock argument nearly had you apologizing, as she’d frozen as soon as your hand touched her shoulder. You didn’t want to actually cross her boundaries, but when she shoved you back, nearly pushing you into a bush, the ice was broken. Your friends now often had to give the two of you the wide berth as the arguments would escalate into shoving and chasing, and one time, almost a full out siege where you were to defend Jericho and Wednesday was to defend Nevermore.

All of the back and forth you two had was nearly as intense as you and Wednesday each were—she liked that about you. At least, that’s what you told yourself. She liked it enough to drop a note in your lap during class, some three months ago, asking you to meet her in an empty class “for warfare.” You had come with a knife hidden in your sleeve, but it ended up clattering to the floor as Wednesday pulled you in by your tie and bluntly asked you if she could kiss you. Before she could change her mind, you had kissed her hard enough for her own hidden knife to fall to the floor next to yours.

Wednesday Addams didn’t have friends. You, certainly, were not her friend, not in the way you touched her and not in the way she let you. Enid called you friends all the time, but she didn’t know about how Wednesday would pull you into a broom closet and push you down to your knees. You were sure that Wednesday would rather die than have a proper conversation about the… hooking up? late night meet ups? booty calls?? that the two of you were having. But you thought of her as your friend, and decidedly not anything more. You gave a lazy smile as you spotted Wednesday looking at you again. You knew why she had slipped you the note—the last time you’d been at her dorm room, rushing to give her an orgasm before Enid returned, you had stolen her favorite pair of Louboutin boots. You figured that the gods had given the two of you the same shoe size for a reason. No harm, no foul, right? Kicking your feet, you scuffed her shoes against the ground, knowing she could see them, knowing she could recognize them.

The sudden shuffling of books and scraping of chairs broke you out of your reverie. Class was dismissed, and you put away your supplies neatly, watching Wednesday leave first. She didn’t even look at you when she brushed past, but you knew she’d be waiting in the hallway outside. Sure enough, as you hitched your bag higher up on your shoulder, slipping your tie off, you spotted a head of raven dark hair amongst your classmates.

Wednesday looked at you evenly, ignoring all of the students filing out of the room. “You have what is mine.”

“Well, hello to you too,” you smiled brightly. Hearing her monotone voice always made your heart beat in technicolor, something chronic that you probably had to go to the infirmary for.

She only stared, eyebrows raising a centimeter. Turning to start towards the dorms, she waited for you to catch up to her before saying, “do not play dumber than you already are.”

You shrugged, wide eyed and used to her empty insults. “What do you mean? I’m innocent.”

“No one would ever accuse you of being innocent,” she shot back. “You are a thief, at best.”

“A thief?” You asked, in mock surprise. “What do you mean?”

She pointed down between the two of you, at the red-soled boots on your feet. “Give them back.”

You cackled, unable to keep up your façade any longer. “No.” You made a heart with your hands, winking at Wednesday through it.

Her hand collided, hard, with your wrist. Her grip was nearly painful, but you just smirked down at her. “I will only ask you once.” Her voice, still flat as usual, had a dangerous edge to it.

“Make me.” You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. You were selfish, always forcing Wednesday’s attention to you. Even though you knew you probably annoyed her to no end, you didn’t know how to stop. Of course, if she ever told you to stop—seriously, not by way of her customary glare—you would.

You only just had time to finish your thought before Wednesday nearly tore your arm out of its socket, dragging you across the grounds towards your dorm room. How such a small girl was so fast, you had no idea. Before you knew it, you were in front of your room, with Wednesday reaching into your pants pocket to take out your keys and push you inside.

As soon as the door shut, you could visibly see Wednesday relax, which was saying something. You drew her smaller frame closer, wrapping your arms around her waist. She turned her head to tuck it into your neck, letting out the smallest sigh. Feeling her hand come up to grab the hem of your shirt, you leaned back a little.

“Wednesday.” At your beckon, she unfolded herself from your neck to look up, eyes as dark as wood immediately on your lips.

“This is not forgiveness,” she told you.

You reached for her bag, dropping it and yours to the ground. “Mmm,” you hummed as you tilted your head down to kiss her, slowly, enjoying the burn in your stomach as she kissed you back. “Maybe you’ll forgive me later, after I’m done with you.” She pulled away, giving you an unimpressed look.

“Arrogance does not become you.”

You just laughed, taking off your jacket, leaving you in your shirt, slacks, and last but not least, Wednesday’s very important boots. Leaning into her space, you nosed along her neck, nipping playfully with sharp teeth. You felt her arms drop back to her sides. “We’ll see about that, Weds.”

This time, she pushed into you first, all soft lips and razor teeth on yours. You sunk down, somewhere in the lowest deep as you kissed her, but your bliss was short lived, broken by your hiss of pain as she bit down on your tongue. Her hands were cold on the back of your neck, trapping you close, and you had no complaints. “Boots. Now.”

“If you want them back so bad,” you muttered, ducking your head to leave a dark bruise on her collarbone, “take them yourself.”

Wednesday put both hands on your shoulders, a glint in her eye the only warning you get. She pushed you, hard, so the backs of your knees hit the bed and you landed on your ass.

“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, Weds,” you goaded, even as she grabbed you by your shirt collar.

“I’ll take your ankles off with those shoes,” she snapped lowly, but she let you kiss down her neck again, that pale column of skin too hard for you to resist. You took your time, leaving murky violet constellations, and with each mark that you sucked into her jawline, you heard her breathing grow shakier.

“Alright,” you said amusedly. “Take them off, then.” You bit down on that spot on her neck while pushing her shoulders down, and she gave surprisingly easily, landing with a thud on her knees.

“Do not go too far,” she hissed, trying to push you off, but you kept her there, her narrow shoulders bracketed by your legs. Her gesture was empty; you were confident that she would simply throw you off if she wanted. The many times you’d ended up tossed across the room showed as testament.

“Sure,” you agreed easily. Leaning in, you whispered, “can I take this off?” You thumbed the lapel of her jacket.

She nodded her assent, even though you could tell she was plotting a way to get you back. You went slow, leaning over her as you slid her jacket off, kissing the crown of her head.

“Very good,” you whispered into her hair, loosening her tie. Wednesday attempted to suppress her shiver at your words, but you felt it anyway. It gave you the courage to go to her shirt, sliding the buttons open hesitantly. She straightened her back, showing you her simple but elegant black bra, which was probably from some niche French designer and worth more than the boots you stole.

But the look on her face as you slid your hands slowly into that expensive bra was priceless: her eyes shut, eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit as her lips parted. You squeezed gently, letting out a small moan of your own. She was so soft, and—

“You’re so perfect, Wednesday,” you growled unevenly in her ear, your composure slipping just a fraction. You sealed your lips with hers and thumbed her nipples, licking up against her teeth as soon as she let you. Breaking apart from her for one unbearable second, you stuck your fingers in her mouth, coating them in saliva. The affronted look on her face disappeared quickly as you pinched her nipples again with sticky fingers, the whine she let out going straight through you like whiskey.

She shuffled closer, seemingly content on her knees despite her earlier protest. Her grip was tight on your thighs, bordering on blissfully painful. Wednesday was nearly pulling you off the bed with how hard she was yanking you in to kiss her, teeth clacking with yours. She sat back on her heels and grabbed your ankle.

“What’re you doing?” You rolled her nipple between your fingers. “Finally getting your—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale as she spread her legs, stocking covered knees sliding. She lifted your leg and planted your foot between her thighs, the heavy boot slamming into the ground. You raised an eyebrow, head swimming with the direction she was going.

Wednesday was a pretty picture in front of you, shirt open, chest flushed, skirt bunched up around her hips. Uncharacteristically demure, she leaned her cheek against your knee, palm sliding up your clothed calf.

“What?” She asked, her turn for faux innocence. “You said to do it yourself, did you not?” Wednesday shimmied forward, her chest up on your shin.

You felt her start to press up on the laces, something hot and slow, and your mouth went dry. Her knees spread more as she adjusted, her hand grabbing yours to place it on her cheek. She grabbed your belt loops, the pressure on your boot heavy. Just the mere idea of Wednesday’s pussy grinding against your—her—boots was something you could never imagine, but her shiver as she got settled made you nearly combust.

“You’re so needy, my girl…” the words slurred their way out of your mouth, likely more loving and adoring than you’d intended them to be.

“Looks like you’re the one fucking yourself,” she huffed out, a rare twisted grin gracing her face. Wednesday’s head tipped back again, a pleased little exhale falling from her lips as she pressed harder.

You cupped her jaw, pushing her shirt from her shoulder to bite, something possessive, with no inhibition, in you rising to the surface. “You do that to me, darling.”

You shift your boot closer to her, meeting her grinding circles, making her gasp and cry out your name. You were content to watch her like this, chasing her own high on you like some sinful temptation. With just the sound she was making, and her lip, bitten red, you knew she was getting her slick everywhere. Her breaths came harder with each time she pressed herself into the laces, her gentle rocking becoming more and more erratic. You almost wanted to see if she could cum like this, but as her eyes got hazier and her movements more erratic, you couldn’t help yourself.

“That's enough, Wednesday.” She barely has your clipped tone as a warning before you pull her off your boot, rough as you hoisted her up, but keeping your grip gentle.

“Come here.” Surprisingly, she did as you asked, throwing her clothes off with the air of a girl who knew what she wanted. You watched her, every inch she uncovered sending prickles of heat up your collar. Her panties, thin and damp, landed in your hand, and you knew she saw your jaw clenching when the corner of her mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles.

You tucked the thin fabric into your pocket and reached for her, her cool skin soothing the burn in your chest. You turned her around to tuck her into you, sitting on your lap. Manhandling her easily, you could feel her muscles, taut from fencing, under your palms. You hooked her knees over yours, and spread your legs. Unable to resist a smirk at her sharp inhale, you kissed up her neck, scraping your teeth against the shell of her ear.

“You look like magic,” you murmured. “So good for me, Wednesday, letting me spread you open like this,” you continued, tilting her head to lean it back on your shoulder.

“Consider yourself lucky,” she rasped out as you mapped your hands along her ribs, sliding them down her tense stomach to grip her thighs, thumbs rubbing circles.

With each circle, you pulled your hands higher, close enough to her pussy that your fingers were sticky from her inner thighs. “Oh, I am.”

You cupped her pussy, already feeling her wetness coating your fingers. Forcing her legs wider, you rubbed up and down, purposefully avoiding her warmest spots as your other hand skimmed up to her chest. But you never were able to keep yourself from Wednesday for very long, testing your own patience as much as hers.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and as you pushed a finger in, her hand shot up to grab the back of your neck with a quiet oh. You crooked your finger, her slick making it easy on you. Letting your palm graze her clit with every motion, you smiled as her hips lifted, searching for more friction.

You take your time, knowing that Wednesday’s pussy was the softest thing you’d ever touched, and it was likely to remain that way. Pushing another finger in, you made sure to grind your palm against her clit every time you curled your fingers. Her soft noises were enough to have you on your knees, and you would’ve, if she didn't sigh out your name, getting your attention. She squeezed your fingers, jaw tight enough to creak.

“What is it, Weds?”

“I…” Wednesday cut herself off with a whine as your fingers twisted, the high sound shooting straight through your stomach. You beckoned with your fingers, hard, and she keened in your ear.

“I need you to fill me up.”

Her words snapped something already delicate inside of you. You took your fingers out, smearing her slick all on her hips as you flip her over. If you had it your way, you would be able to see her face, but you knew this was her favorite position. You saw her swallow in anticipation as you stepped briefly away from the bed, kicking off those catalytic boots and rummaging under your bed for you and Wednesday’s box.

Everything in the box you kept meticulously clean, knowing Wednesday’s routine of cleanliness. It would only be Wednesday Addams, a contradiction in her black heart, that loved to be as messy in your bed as she was clean in hers. You picked a black strap, one that you two used frequently. Pulling it on and adjusting it, you get on your knees behind her. For a moment, you watched her, captivated by the sight in front of you, grasping her hips. She arched her back, getting comfortable, as if you weren’t already trying not to fold and just take her like a ship to water.

You pushed yourself up against Wednesday, hips flush to her ass, letting the silicone glide against her clit. To her credit, Wednesday’s breath only came out the slightest bit shaky, even as you guided her thighs apart with a knee. You hummed as she pushed herself up onto her forearms to rock back, head turned to look at you. Wednesday had to grind down past your strap for her pussy to touch your thigh, and you laughed lowly as she flushed with the action. She froze.

“What’s wrong?” You rubbed a hand over her lower back, ready to pull away if she gave even the slightest signal.

“Do you…” she swallows, eyes flicking from you to some distant spot in the corner of the room. “Do you not want me to do that?”

For a second, you couldn’t believe your ears. There was a rush of indignation on Wednesday’s behalf, that she could ever think you wouldn’t love her desperation. Then, the wave of understanding broke over you—Wednesday wanted your approval, over an action that was decidedly un-Wednesday-like, and the final flick of her nervous gaze towards you told you that this was important.

You grabbed her hips, hard enough to leave shadows that you hoped you’d see tomorrow. Anything physical, Wednesday would undoubtedly best you, but this was something you could hold your own on. You pushed her pussy down onto the strap, onto the rough fabric of your slacks.

“Why would I ever not want you to show me how much you want it, mmm?” Your question was a growl wrought with satisfaction and a winner’s unapologetic glee, and the effort you put into your tone was worth the way the tension vanished from Wednesday’s eyes. She rolled her hips again, her Addams confidence returning, letting you guide her into a smooth rhythm.

“Besides,” you leaned forward, one hand letting go to come down a hair's breadth from Wednesday's nose. You folded yourself over her body, your tight grip still controlling her hips. “I know you can’t cum like this.”

The whine came unbidden from Wednesday’s throat, high and breathy and perfect. Nevertheless, her hips and keening gasps followed your even rhythm, and you saw her grip on the pillow go white-knuckled.

“I’m pleased with you, my dear. I do love to watch you suffer.” At your words, sunk roughly into her ears like cannonballs on kindling, Wednesday moaned, loud, into the space between the two of you. You ignored the burning torch that her sounds dropped into your lower stomach, choosing to murmur: “you can take it, right?”

“I can take it,” Wednesday whispered back, almost mindlessly. “I can take you,” she continued. “I want it.”

You settle back on your heels, satisfied. The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was only to do with your physical exertion, and nothing with how you felt for the girl under you. I can take you, not I can take it, I want it, not I want you.

You pull your thigh from under her roughly, making her yelp. Reaching around her narrow hips, you trailed your fingers down from her belly button to her clit, rubbing small circles. “Ready?”

Wednesday nodded, another whimper escaping at your touch.

“I need you to tell me yes, Weds.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

You push in, slowly, giving her body plenty of time to adjust. She was still prepped from your fingers earlier, but you didn’t miss the chance to gather her wetness and smear it against her clit. Wednesday was taking deep breaths beneath you, just like how you taught her the first time you two had used a strap. The rush of endearment you felt for her at that memory was distracting, you decided, and you pushed it away.

You slowed yourself down as your hips were once again up against her ass, hands moving to squeeze her shoulders. You saw her eyes shut tightly, the corners growing shiny. Wednesday always needed a moment once you put the strap in, something you were happy to give her.

She was still inhaling deeply, thighs trembling. “It…”

“It what?”

Wednesday opened her eyes; they were brimming with tears, dark lashes sticky. “It hurts…”

Your body tensed, already about to pull away, but with a surprisingly strong twist, she forced herself back onto you. A whimper rose high from her throat, and you had to take a breath to keep yourself from flipping her around to kiss her right then.

“Hurts good,” she whispered. You close your eyes, near involuntarily. Fuck, this perfect, perfect, girl would ruin you, just as much as you wanted to ruin her. You lean forward, pressing your chest into her back, forearm across her shoulder blades to ground her.

“How does it hurt, love?”

“It’s—I’m full,” Wednesday gasped out, glossy eyes sliding shut as you shifted on your knees, cock shifting inside.

“It fills you up, huh?” You breathed into Wednesday’s ear.

She nodded.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” she said, almost immediately. Experimentally, she swiveled her own hips around, and it made her hiss and bite her lip. “You fill me up.”

You exhaled through your nose, resisting the urge to just grab Wednesday and slam your cock impossibly deeper. “And?”

“And it’s good,” Wednesday whined out. “Hurts good.”

The knot in your chest loosened, the tension in your body broken like a wave. Surely, it wasn’t healthy to hang onto Wednesday’s every word the way that you did. You pulled out almost all the way, and snapped your hips forward, hard, burying yourself into her.

“Good girl.”

Wednesday let out a breath that bordered on a moan, and you smirked to yourself. Maybe she was right, and the arrogance was getting to your head, but you couldn’t help it. You set on a steady pace, gently brushing one of her braids aside to grasp the back of her neck. You felt yourself slipping into it, drunk on the way she let you touch her, your world tunneling down to just Wednesday—everything was Wednesday.

Every time you pushed in, it was punctuated by her gasps, and you could feel her breathing start to grow uneven. It stirred up something innately protective in you, for Wednesday. Her shoulders were shaking, tension pulling her taut.

“Wednesday, baby,” a pet name she would only tolerate in her hazy, lust filled state, “I need you to breathe for me, alright?” You slowed down, following your intuition on what she needed.

Still flush to her back, you listened to her stuttering inhales, deeper but not enough for her to catch her breath. “Shhh,” you cooed low into her ear, covering her eyes, and taking her hand, still tight on the pillow. “Breathe, my love.” Inexplicably, Wednesday let go of the pillowcase and intertwined your fingers, squeezing your hand and your heart tightly. She listened to you, for once, slowing down and softening her breaths. You could feel her tears on your palm, and you shushed her again, pressing kisses on her temple where her hair stuck to her forehead.

“Alright?” You slid your hand away, watching her eyes carefully.

She nodded. Skimming your fingers along her cheekbone, you let the warmth in your heart for the smaller girl seep into your words.

“Just say the word, Wednesday, and we’re done.”

“No,” she murmured back. “If you stop now, I’ll throw you out the balcony.” Though she was out of breath, a sticky, flushed mess under you, you had no doubt she’d follow through on her threat. You smiled.

You pick up your rhythm again, this time covering her smaller body with yours again to suck hickies into the back of her neck. Your other hand brushed down between her thighs to rub her clit in circles—she was so wet that it was hard to keep up with your thrusts, but it was worth the choked cry that escaped from her throat as you hit that spot, her fingers tightening around yours.

Wednesday arched her back into you, burgundy lips bitten blood red right before your eyes. “Keep going,” she told you. You had no intention of stopping, watching a flush bloom on her neck as you kept up your ruthless pace.

But despite that, you wanted to take your time with her. Every time she would tense up, you would slow down, making it impossible for her to reach that peak you knew she wanted. You forced yourself to slow down on both her pussy and her clit, just as she was starting to shake, and in spite of herself, she cried out in frustration, a tear slipping free.

“Sorry, baby.” Your tone edged on cruel, desperately needing to see how much she could handle. “I know you can handle it, just for me, okay?” Strap still fully inside, you bent to kiss the juncture of her neck, lips and teeth leaving a bruise. Her skin was hot to your touch, even though your shirt. You bit down again, matching all of your other marks that graced her skin.

Wednesday whined again, inhibition cracking faster by the second. “Don’t stop…”

“Don’t stop what?” You asked, voice turned mocking. “Use your words.” You reached up to clasp the back of her neck, rubbing the tension out. “And be good.”

Her breath quickened, and she squeezed her eyes shut as another tear rolled through her mascara. “Don’t stop…”

“C’mon,” you cajoled, hand coming around her neck to squeeze her throat. “C’mon, my love.”

“Please… don’t stop fucking me.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and she mewled as you nuzzled your lips against her shoulder, your fingers starting up on her clit again.

A shiver shot up your spine, making you curl protectively around Wednesday, the hot burn of possessiveness, to mark her again, near unbearable.. “Anything you want, darling.” You slammed back into her, hard enough to push the both of you up the bed. One of her hands grasped at your forearm, pulling your grip from her neck. She wrapped your arm across her shoulders. Your breathing came hard, but you didn’t stop, each whine in your ear making your head spin. You had no idea how much time was passing, or if it was even night or day; your entire world was hazy and fuzzed with raven black.

“I’m—” Wednesday cut herself off, biting down on your arm for a moment, leaving a smear of lipstick.

You let out a noise that was more of a growl than anything. “Let me hear you, baby.”

She gasped when you pressed a hand to her lower stomach, briefly feeling the bulge there from your cock, before going back to her clit. You didn’t pause, each thrust pushing Wednesday closer to the edge. “Use your teeth,” she choked out, her cheeks flushing. “Now, please.”

You complied, eager. Scraping your canines down her ear, you stopped at a tender spot behind her pulse point, the skin already marred with purple and red. A sailor’s delight, you thought, a bit hysterically. You sank your teeth in, not holding back, knowing she wanted it. The effect was near immediate; her eyes slid shut, and her body tensed against yours, an unrestrained sob tumbling out from her lips. She reached for you, nails digging into your arm. Your hands shook, all of her tightening the coil in your stomach. Wednesday’s orgasm crashed down, and it shattered something in you, deep and addictive.

Far down in you, below what you were willing to admit, Wednesday’s unknowing grip on your heart tightened even more. You felt like you’d just jumped off your own edge, inevitable as the eternal separation of sun and moon.

“I came,” Wednesday’s voice was a ragged whisper, a ghost of her earlier whimpers ringing in your ears.

“You did, my love,” you shushed, gently sliding your cock out, catching Wednesday as she seemed to melt into the bedsheets with no support. You guided her into her back, relishing in the way she trustingly let you. Tucking the strap away to clean later, you massaged her thighs, thinking they’d be sore later. She seemed to be in a daze, dark eyes fogged with the afterglow. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara from her tears, and the rims of her eyes were a fuschia pink. You’d never seen anything more beautiful.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that her gaze behind her slow blinks as she watched you was just as possessive as you were. You did know better, you swore, but it didn’t stop you from nuzzling your face into her stomach, intoxicated on the smell of her arousal, delaying the clean-up for just a moment longer.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” You teased, unsure if she could even hear you. You smoothed her fringe off her forehead, already moving to sit up and get her a bottle of water. But before you could move, Wednesday’s hand grabbed your wrist with lighting speed, a shadow of the earlier afternoon.

She cracked an eye open, and though her eyes were shot red, there was a challenging shine, blade in moonlight, there. “Who says you’re done?”

reader: i fuck her good but i don’t think she likes me back :(

wednesday: if you don’t hold me right now i Will murder

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, or take from my work in any way without express permission. thank you!

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missroki · 2 months

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CUPID IS SO DUMB! ┊ GOJO SATORU

star dusted arrows are standard. they have the advantage of being blessed by the gods, unable to bend or warp unless you add just the right amount of pressure. the only downside is that they are too light in the hands, practically a figment of your imagination with how the shaft would leave no impression on your palm.

modern arrows have a more practical use, carbon made with hints of aluminum and soul fragments. they’re heavier, sturdier, made to withstand even the thickest of material. satoru has been using the same arrows for a millennia, so he finds himself befuddled to find that each one of his expertly crafted projectiles are snapping like wooden twigs.

either his bad eyesight has finally caught up to him, or you were simply unloveable.

you with your pretty smile and silly heart printed headband. you who had been shot easily by his arrow only a few days prior.

somehow, despite his best efforts, silly little you was still moving through your college campus with a scarlet red arrow lodged in your lower back; invisible to the perception of mortals but a bright beacon of satoru’s failure to any god who happened to pass by.

he can hear the scolding now, how a cupid couldn’t even shoot an arrow! he can see the disappointed gaze of venus as she stares down at her creation. what is a god if his will can be altered by a mere mortal? what sort of spell are you casting that makes every man reject the love satoru is desperately trying to bless them with?

sure, you were a bit quirky — but you were clearly beautiful. the fact that you had needed any intervention from a cupid at all is a mystery within itself. from what he could tell, you were kind and true; a brilliant orange blossom in a sea of weeds. someone that could rival aphrodite herself (though he of course would never say this out loud.)

according to suguru, the cupids were meant to just push you in the right direction. to give you humans that final nudge.

you have managed to turn a nudge into a full on tackle.

countless hours have been spent watching as you glide through your university, avoiding every man in your general vicinity. it’s not a woman you seek (satoru has tried to pair you with the roommate you seem to spend most of your time with) and he couldn’t possibly pair you with the fictional man that runs across your television. (you should really sit further away from the screen.)

any time he finds you close to anyone, he takes a chance. shot after shot and each arrow ricochets into the nearest bush or snaps as if the mere thought of the match was absurd. he doesn’t understand you!

never in all of these years has he heard of such a case. you were infuriatingly difficult. stubborn, even! how else could he explain your inability to match with anyone? you must be doing it on purpose at this point.

satoru sulks, letting his chin rest in the palm of his hand as he leans against a building ledge. he feels the leather strap of his quiver pressing into his bare chest, his white pants low on his hips.

if he knows your schedule, you should be arriving at your favorite coffee shop in no time. it’s valentine’s day, after all, and they had a delicious heart shaped donut ready and fresh for customers. all he’d have to do was wait. surely the ache in his wings would be worth it in the end!

he hears you before he sees you, the soft click of your shoes as they hurry down the sidewalk. you seem to be rushing, books tightly held to your chest and your hair in a simpler style than usual. you aren’t even wearing your signature heart patterned headband… on valentine’s day.

you’re clearly not yourself and something about the thought… upsets satoru. you should be cheerful in that annoying way you always are. what’s going on?

you’re looking down at your phone when a man leaves the coffee shop. what appears to be a hot chocolate rests firmly in his hand. he’s also not paying attention, looking in the opposite direction of you and blissfully unaware.

he’s attractive enough, bright pink hair and an equally stupid grin on his face. he looks like the type of guy that would match you well (if the pink aura surrounding him was anything to go by.) a prime candidate for love, the emotion oozing out of him in waves.

satoru perks up at this. anyone from a mile away could see what was about to occur. it was a prime moment in any cupid’s career, a turn of events so perfect that the stars seemed to align for this very purpose:

a meet cute.

depending on how hot that drink was, potentially a meet ugly!

the white haired angel positions his arrow in his bow, nocking the sharp point as he eyes his target. satoru lowers his chin, weight on the balls of his feet as he leans forward off of his heels.

you’re almost there now, only a few more steps until you are to meet the love of your life. the thought brings a small smirk to satoru’s face. finally, you’d be out of his hair. he wasn’t sure if he could watch you binge another reality tv show.

he takes in a deep breath. points, aims, and shoots.

the arrow lodges itself into the man’s arm, effectively causing him to drop his drink... on the dress shoes of someone else.

it sticks! or at least… he think it does?

the arrow in the man’s arm disappears as if it was merely a trick of the light and he sparks up a conversation with the hot chocolate victim. with the way this new darker haired man seems to be unphased, satoru assumes they are already acquainted.

if the kiss the pink haired man presses onto his cheek is anything to go by, all satoru managed to do was make their love stronger.

you on the other hand are still on your phone, typing away with that cursed point still sticking out of your lower back.

a red hot blush rushes to satoru’s face as he reaches for another arrow, anger rising deep in his stomach and lingering in his chest. you have managed to evade him again but this will be the last time!

he reaches into his quiver blindly, eyes focused only on you and your adorable face and pretty hair and stupid— ouch!

warmth quickly replaces the anger he felt in his chest, nervous fluttering forcing its way into his stomach. satoru quickly moves his hand away from his arrows, the smallest drop of blood blooming on his fingertip. with a shift of weight, he can tell instantly that another arrow has disappeared.

uh oh.

one glance down at the street and he can see the tension lift from your shoulders, your eyes flickering around until they lock onto his. the arrow in your back is gone, but satoru has seen that lovesick gaze many times before in training. he assumes that he wears the same one now.

his first day back on the job and he has already managed to break one of the main rules of cupidhood: don’t get pricked by your own arrow.

maybe suguru was on to something when he said to store arrows with the pointy side facing down?

you’re moving towards him now; quickly and with confusion riddled on your face. satoru won’t lie and say he doesn’t get it. one minute you’re experiencing the worst cramp of your life and the next, the pain is alleviated and a half-dressed man is staring at you from the top of an abandoned grocery store.

maybe he could call in sick.

do cupids get sick days? if so, satoru is sure he has plenty of PTO saved up to take the rest of the day off. maybe the effects of the arrows would wear off after some well deserved rest? perhaps you wouldn’t find a celestial being to be a good option for a romantic endeavor?

by the determined look in your features, that seems unlikely.

he can hear you stomp up the stairs of the building, the metal steps creaking with every press from your shoes. satoru finds himself growing nervous, a cold sweat lingering on his forehead and hands. the arrows must be having an effect on him already, because when you finally enter the rooftop, all he can think about is how underdressed he is for the occasion.

you are his perfect match, after all.

your hands rest on your hips, your eyes looking unreasonably lovesick. as satoru goes to explain himself, you interject.

“so are you like… cupid or something?” huh, you figured that out quicker than expected.

“well, i’m actually—“

“because if you are, you're… pretty bad at your job.” an apologetic look appears on your features, hands clasping together as you play with your fingers.

the white haired man lets out a scoff.

“for your information i’m a cupid. there’s like… thousands of us or something. if anyone should complain it’s me! trying to find you a match has been torture.”

your eyes brows furrow, your arms now moving to cross over your chest. you do that a lot, fidgeting. satoru imagines that you also feel the same heat that he does. it’s annoying, distracting.

there’s a twinkle in your eye, something close to teasing but not quite. “so you decided to just snatch me up for yourself? pretty drastic decision, no?”

“this,” his finger points at the space between you, “was an accident. i was trying to get you with that pink haired kid.”

“yuuji? he has a boyfriend, stupid.”

“cupid and yes, i know that now.”

“the heart eyes he was making at megumi wasn’t enough for you?”

“megu– isn’t that a girl name?”

“why are you even here?” you ask, deciding to ignore his comment for now.

satoru sighs, removing his quiver to show the arrows on his back. “i’m a cupid, remember? i’m helping humans fall in love for the holiday! you were on my list but…” he glances down at his finger. “there were complications.”

you nod slowly, a ghost of an arrow now lingering in your lower back. “so, what now? i’ve never exactly been with a cupid before.”

your companion hums, glancing down at the coffee shop across the street. “well i’ve never even spoken to a human before so, i think you’re at an advantage.”

it’s at this moment that your stomach rumbles, an embarrassingly loud sound that can’t be covered up by the sounds of people commuting around you.

“maybe…” you start, walking towards him. “we can grab a bite to eat?”

he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that eating isn’t necessary for his kind. “since i’m going to probably get fired anyway? sure. might as well.”

you smile and extend a hand to him. satoru takes it, though that same burning only gets worse, traveling up his arm and down the back of his neck.

“lead the way, little human.”

it was going to be a long day.

note: this was definitely supposed to be longer but no matter how hard i tried the words were not coming, lmao. hopefully y’all enjoy this little valentine’s day drabble anyway!

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes.#gojo x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x black reader #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x female reader #jjk x black reader #jjk fluff #cw blood

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myosotisa · 1 year

Text

i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it.

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myos ideas #vampire!Eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #myo4munson

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ryker-writes · 1 year

Note

No I’m sorry but if Azul was my sibling and he treated me like that he’d be dead to me. I would have torn into him the second he tried to get me to sign anything. Believing he’s above me and everyone else? No better the those who used to pick on him. I’d quite then and there and even after his overblot if he tried to call me his sibling I’d make it very clear that with the way he’s treated me at this point he’s just a cruel stranger with the same parents

Fair. A lot of people have actually said that they wouldn't forgive the boys after what they've done. The amount of people who've asked for this amazes me

For those who didn't see the first part, you can find it here

Request rules and Masterlists

Azul as a sibling (Broken relationship with no forgiveness)

Azul had been avoiding you for years now

it started when he became friends with the Leech twins

before then you had always been there for him

always defended him when others picked on him

but when he met the Leech twins, he didn't need you anymore

and he cast you aside

even when you both got into NRC, he didn't pay you much attention

but he made you work for him at the Mostro Lounge with all the worst jobs possible

while you worked for him, he barely ever interacted with you

the only times he did was to tell you not to call him brother

and then he wanted you to sign a contract

it said that you would work and do anything he wanted you too, and you could never tell anyone that you were related, you used to be close, or even give details of his childhood

in return you get some of the better jobs like actually dealing with customers and more discounts

there was no way you were signing that

the contract basically wanted you to become a slave to Azul and for slightly better jobs and a few extra bucks off the food you make?

not a chance

who does he think he is?

you two were family at one point but it's like he thinks he's so much better than you now

this was not the Azul you knew in the past

this was someone you've never met

enough was enough

you teared apart his contract and said

"If you don't want to be siblings that badly, then fine. We aren't siblings. I'm not going to sign some contract in order to be bossed around by someone who wants nothing to do with me. In fact, I quit. You're no better than those who used to bully you."

with that, you walked out

Azul was angry, but you didn't care

you didn't want anything to do with him

so you left Mostro Lounge and hung out elsewhere on campus

you made your own life and got friends who didn't associate you with Azul

then a few weeks later, there was talk of another student overblotting

it didn't take long for someone to mention who it was

of course Azul would overblot

it didn't matter much to you

but then you noticed Azul around you more often

he didn't say anything and was just "coincidentally" in the same place as you when you were

there would times when you would glance near him and see the panic set into him

Azul really wanted to say something but was too nervous and didn't know where to start

you didn't even give him the time

you never talked to him, and never even looked directly at him

until one day when you were having a disagreement with a classmate

Azul thought this would be the perfect time to step in and show that he still cares and even start a conversation

maybe you would even be grateful for his help

"Excuse me? It would be wise to watch what you say. After all, that's my sibling you're talking about."

how dare he

how dare he step in like everything was fine now and even try to "help" you like you couldn't help yourself

the classmate walks away and you're left with Azul who looks very proud of himself

until he looks at you and sees just how cold your expression is

"Listen to me Azul. I don't need your help, and we certainly aren't siblings. I used to defend you all the time and you returned the favor by pushing me away and trying to get me to serve you. You are not the Azul I used to know. You are just a cruel stranger that's taken up too much of my time."

he looked slightly stunned and then he avoided even looking at you

whatever

for how he's treated you for years, this is what he had coming

you weren't going to put yourself through that kind of pain again

so as you walked away from Azul and his life, you simply said

"You should be glad. After all, you never wanted to be my brother in the first place. You got what you wanted."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #twst azul x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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starzioo · 2 months

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓.

So I’m going to preface this by giving you literally the biggest angst warning that you could ever possibly have. I’ve been having a bad writers block and angst is literally the only thing I can write rn idk why. Even though I lowkey teared up while reading over this I hope you like it as much as I do lol.

5.1K WORDS

WARNINGS: HEAVY ANGST, CHARACTER DEATH, BLOOD.

Play this when you see the ♫ symbol.

You've never given much thought to how you would die. But dying in the place of someone else sounded pretty good.

You're sprinting down the corridors of Hogwarts, making any turn you could take that would maybe lead you to help. Your lungs felt tight, your air ways were burning. With spells being casted at you barely missing you by a hair each time. You fired back, but missed. The black haired woman running after you letting out vicious cackles with each spell. Your legs were becoming sore from the dodging and running, you wanted to just let your legs give out and let her take you life. This was torture. Running from your own mother. You had betrayed the Dark Lord, and now you had to pay the consequences.

Over the precious summer you had received your dark mark. You had been avoiding it. Your mother, Bellatrix Lestranged was locked up in Azkaban, or so you thought. Until the day you and Draco had returned to Malfoy manor from Hogwarts hoping to have a good summer. The second you and Draco had gotten out of the car Narcissa had you and him in a hug. A distraught look on her face. "The dark lord is here..." She said looking at the ground. You and Draco's once content faces now covered in confusion and worry, you share glances. "He would like to see you both." She took you and Draco by your hands, gently guiding you to the front doors of the manor. You all walk in frigid silence to the entrance of the study. Your breath had become shallow. You still hadn't seen him but you could feel his presence in the home. Narcissa gave your hands a light squeeze before the doors to the study opened. The Dark Lords disciple ushering you two in, leaving Narcissa in the hallway.

You and Draco stand in the middle of the study, hand in hand. Neither of you dared to say a word. You were looking at the ground, hoping for all of this to be a nightmare. Wanting this to just all go away with a blink of the eye. "My my, Y/n...my blood certainly does live within you." Bellatrix says stepping up to you dragging her wand down your jawline, practically forcing you to look at you. Your breath halts at the touch of her wand. Your eyes meet hers. You didn't dare to utter a word. Draco squeezes your hand. "As so does mine..." The Dark Lord says finally turning around in his chair. Your eyes immediately go back to the ground. "That is why you are both here today. As of today you will be my disciples. My spy's." His breathy dried voice says as he fiddles with his wand. Suddenly Bellatrix roughly grabs your arm and drags you infront of the Dark Lord. Your breath is still. You knew what was about to happen. There was no way you could've possibly prepared for this. There was no way you could've ever denied it. You turn your head to look at Draco who stands still, his eyes were glazed with tears looking back at you. Bellatrix grabs the hem of your sleeve and pulls it up to your elbow. Ripping your attention off Draco back to the lizard like man(?) sitting infront of you.

Without saying a word his wand presses deep into your arm. Within an instant you feel a burning sensation all down your arm. It was enough to make you drop to your knees. Tears started to flow down your face. Your face scrunched at the pain that was being inflicted on you. You tried to pull away out of the grasp of your mother. Only for her to pull harder and squeeze your wrist to the point of bruising. "Please! Let me go!" You cried. "Shut it!" Bellatrix yells cruelly. The sensation that ran through your arm felt like wildfire, as if your blood was poison, disintegrating your veins as it flowed. You let out a scream as the infliction was now at its peak. "Please! Make it stop!" You screamed trying to escape the woman's grasp, only to receive a forceful yank. Your screams filled the room until the pain finally subsided. Leaving your arm feeling as if you had been electrocuted.

Your eyes finally open, with tears streaming you look down at your arm. A sight you never wanted to see, the dark mark laid deep within your skin like a tattoo. Your breath was heavy, you turn to look at Draco, his eyes icy eyes now filled with fear. Bellatrix forces you to stand up so she can examine your arm. "Never refuse the Dark Lord like that again!" She yells into your face. "I'm sorry my lord." You say shakily, not daring to look him in his eyes. "You may go now." He says waving his hand. A strong man grabs you by your arm and takes out of the room shoving you into the hallway. A worried ridden Narcissa practically runs to you and embraces you. Her warm motherly hug induced the tears to flow out of your eyes again. Although Narcissa wasn't your biological mother she was more of a mother Bellatrix could've ever been. She cared for you like her own. You lean into her arms holding your now tattooed arm close to your chest. 'Shhhshhh.' She lightly lets out as you cry softly into her chest. Not a moment later you both hear Draco's cries from the study. You both freeze at the sound. You just tuck your head into Narcissa.

After you had both gotten your dark marks more and more death eaters seemed to fill the house. The fun filled summer that you had dreamed of was now a nightmare. A dark aroma had filled the house. You stayed in your room unless told to come out. The house elves bringing you dinner and always bringing you your mail. The death eaters that filled your home had made you uncomfortable and uneasy. The place you once felt most content and safe was now degraded to the house you merely slept in. Over the summer you and Draco had spent a lot of time together inside your rooms. Bonding over the trauma. You thought of Draco as a brother, and he thought of you as his sister. You two were close, growing up you were the only ones there for each other. And it had been that way until a charming Theodore Nott had gotten close with Draco. Draco had always had his group of friends at Hogwarts but he was different. As he and Draco grew closer he became more friendly to you. He was quite charming and flirty towards you but that's just the way he was. You thought he was like that with everyone till one night when you and Draco were in the common room reading he pointed out that Theo only acted like that towards you. That was in fourth year. After that you had started noticing all the little things he did for you. Walking you to class, carrying your books, plating food for you at dinner. All the little things you never noticed were now seen very clear. You and Theo had grown close as friends seeming to always be together. Over that summer you had wrote each other and at one point he had even asked you to travel to Rome with him. Of course you agreed. On that trip you had shared your first kiss, and since then you had been dating. 'Puppy love' Lucius called it, but you knew it was real.

The feelings that you and Theo shared with each other went way deeper and beyond than what anyone could see. What you two had was something only seen in movies. The unconditional and genuine connection between you two was something many people can only wish for. Time seemed to fly by with him, what felt like minutes would be hours. Just having him by your side was enough for you. Whether it was as a friend or boyfriend. You knew it was nothing short of real. You and Theo both yearned for nothing more than to spend every waking moment together. Never getting tired of each other.

You were now going into your sixth year at Hogwarts although surrounded by people that loved you, you've never felt more alone. Ever since being ridden with the dark mark you and Draco had secluded yourselves from the group. Even Theo. He knew about your new allegiance to the Dark Lord but what he didn't know was that you and Draco had received tasks to complete. While Draco had to fix a vanishing cabinet, you had to place Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius curse. You would then instruct her to place a girl, Katie Bell, under the Imperius curse aswell. Madam Rosmerta would then instruct Katie to take the Opal Necklace to Dumbledore. You knew Katie, she was a sweet Gryffindor she was quite smart and quite on her feet. She played quidditch, and she was in multiple of your classes all throughout your years at Hogwarts. Knowing that you would have to curse her made your heart ache. You never were actually friends with Katie but the gut wrenching thought of cursing her had made you nauseous.You've never used an unforgivable before. Never once. Nor had you ever thought about it. Seeing that Draco was having troubles with the vanishing cabinet you decided to postpone your task for as long as possible.

Your task was all that had been on your mind. The mere thought of doing such a cruel thing had been toying with your mind. If anyone found out how could anyone forgive you? Madam Rosmerta was a mother, she was a figure of welcome to Hogsmeade. Katie was someone's daughter, someone's sister. You can't imagine someone doing such a thing to Narcissa or Draco, so how could you? Those thoughts crowded your mind until the day came that Draco told you he had fixed the cabinet. Those words came crashing down on you like bricks. You knew it was time.

You had snuck into The Three Broomsticks through the back door. You waited until the absolute perfect time when Madam Rosmerta was in the back room grabbing something. You were tucked behind the door with your wand shaking in your hand. "Imperio" you uttered. Madam Rosmerta seemed to pause. Her body was still for a moment, she seemed robotic in a way. She turned around to see you. "Act as you would normally. Pretend you never saw me. Place this is the girls restroom for Katie Bell to find. Place Katie Bell underneath the Imperius curse and instruct her to take the box to Dumbledore. She will act as normal." You whisper looking into the woman's eyes. You hand her a box that was wrapped in a cover. "You will not open the box at any given moment." All she does is nod with her usual warm smile. You had been rehearsing those words for weeks. You swiftly made your way out of the back door. It was done. Your task had been completed. You back up into the cobblestone wall behind you. That same nauseating feeling came back. You couldn't believe what you had just done. Your task was supposed to be the very task that would lead to Dumbledores demise. You felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of you. No amount of words could describe the guilt that you felt at that moment.

You ran back to the castle to inform Draco that your task was done. Once you had got there you practically bursted into Draco's dorm. Your eyes were swelled with tears. He immediately stood from his chair with worry. "I-Draco. I did it." Your voice was small and shaky. He engulfed you in a hug. Draco was rarely ever seen hugging other people or showing any form of affection but with you it was different. He cared for you as if you were his little sister. You sunk into his comfort. "It had to be done Y/n..." he says as he tries to calm you. Your hands your covering your face you tucked into Draco. "What had to be done?" A familiar deep voice said from the doorway. You immediately turn around to see Theo standing with a worried expression. Your eyes were filled with tears and your face was blotched pink. Draco rests a reassuring hand on your arm, "It's nothing Nott." He says shortly. "No, It's not just nothing Draco. Y/n, what's wrong?" He says as he finally comes into the dorm room to talk to you. "Theo it doesn't concern you..." Draco says once again speaking for you.

Your eyes were trained on the ground, you couldn't bare to look Theo in the eyes after what you had done. "It concerns me if Y/n is standing here crying and not speaking! She's obviously shaken up." He says lightly raising his voice at Draco. "Y/n, talk to me, what's wrong?" Theo says gently grabbing your hands. His eyes glancing all around your face trying to read the situation. You knew you couldn't tell him. Even though Theo's father was a death eater the Dark Lord made it very clear that no one could know about you and Draco's tasks. You didn't even know how Theo would react to the fact that you had not only Imperiused one but two people. Your breath was trembling and so were your hands. Your eyes were looking everywhere else but at Theo, his eyes were doing the very opposite. "I-" You were about to speak but the words were caught on your tongue. No matter how badly you wanted to tell Theo you knew you couldn't. Telling him would only put him in danger. "I can't tell you...I'm sorry.." You say taking your hands out of Theo's grasp and quickly walking out of Draco's dorm.

You practically ran back down the halls to get to your dorm. Theo followed quickly behind. You had barely gotten into your dorm with Theo just seconds late. You closed the door quickly. You couldn't face him. The guilt you bared was too much. He banged on the door. "Y/n! Please just talk to me baby, I'm worried." He yelled from the other side. Your back faced the door and you slid down it. "Theo just go away." You said trying to fight off the burning sensation in your throat. "Y/n I'm not leaving till you talk to me. We've barely spoken in weeks. Please baby I'll fix whatever I did." He said pleadingly. "Theo it's not you. I just. It's just something I can't talk to you about, okay? It's for your own good that you stay as far away from this as possible." You cried. A sudden silence comes from Theo's side. "Is this about him?" His voice now serious. You immediately knew who Theo meant by 'him'. You stayed silent, you buried your face into your hands. "Y/n...Whatever this is. I need to know. Please just talk to me." He says trying the doorknob one more time. You take a deep breath and stand up.

You slowly open the door, Theo comes in and wraps his arms around your waist placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Now tell me what's wrong." He said walking to your bed and sitting down. You close the door and sit next to him. "Theo I can't tell you...I swore..." You voice breaks. His hand lays on your knee. "Y/n I already told you that I'm not leaving with you telling me." He says bluntly. "Theo I can't...you don't understand. I wish I could! I-" You instantly get cut off when Pansy enters your room.

"Y/n, you'll never guess what just happened to Katie Bell!" Pansy says frantically as she walks in. You froze. Your face completely drops hearing her name. What happened? What could've went wrong? Did she touch the necklace? Did it ever get to Dumbledore? Your mind is flooded as you just stare into nothing. Tears streaming down your face. "I-I-" Pansy just stands at the door utterly confused on the sight infront of her. "Pansy...You should go..." Theo says walking up to the door and slightly guides her out. "Y/n. Does this have to do with Katie?" Your eyes shot from where they were up to him. Hearing her name made you feel disgusted with yourself. Your mouth just fell agape trying to form words. "What happened to Katie?" "I...I don't know." Nothing should've happened to Katie. She should've just delivered the necklace to Dumbledore and that should've been it. If something happened to Katie then that meant your task wasn't fulfilled. "My task." You whisper, thinking aloud. "What task, Y/n? What did he tell you to do?!" He finally sits back down next to you. "He...I..I had to Imperio Madam Rosmerta and Katie..." You whisper. He fell silent. "What..." "Nothing was supposed to happen to Katie! I swear! I don't know what happened! I- She was supposed to give the necklace to Dumbledore!" Your head falls into your hands. "Y/n...are you talking about the opal necklace?" You just leaned into him hugging him, he reciprocated. "Y/n I need you to calm down so you can tell me what exactly happened." He says softly.

After about 10 minutes you had finally calmed down. Over those ten minutes you still hadn't fully built up the confidence to tell Theo exactly what you did. It didn't matter regardless because he was patient with you. Ofcourse he ended up comforting you, telling you there was no other choice. It was either you or her. You still hadn't figured out that Katie had been taken to St. Mungos. So the overwhelming guilt still hung over your head taunting you. Theo stayed with you for the rest of the day. You were filled with worry. Your task wasn't complete. But that wasn't the reason you were in the predicament you were in.

"Luna!" You shouted as you saw her fighting off two Death Eaters. Many people didn't like Luna because they thought she was weird and quite out of it. But you saw past that. She had such a kind soul. She was that one person that you knew would never judge you for anything. You two were friends you couldn't just stand back and let her die. "Expelliarmus!" You knocked one of the Death Eaters wands out of their hand. He immediately turned around. "Levioso!" You had picks up the man and slammed him into the wall. He was knocked out. You immediately run to Luna who was still fighting the Death Eater. He was firing unforgivable curses at her like it was nothing. "Bombarda!" The man was bombarded into the stone wall. "Luna are you okay?" You rushed to her. "Yes, I'm quite fine actually. Thank you." She said with her usual contentment but slightly out of breath. "Cmon we gotta go before they wake up." Although the men were knocked out it wouldn't be long before someone found them and woke them up. You and Luna run down the corridors trying to find someone to group with. That's when you saw it. Bellatrix was practically terrorizing a group of younger students who were hiding. She was yelling at them firing spells trying to get them to tell her where Harry Potter was. Why would they know? She knew they didn't know. She just wanted to traumatize as many students as she could. You weren't thinking. These were just kids? "Expelliarmus!" You casted at Bellatrix. She spun around like a mad woman. When she saw you with Luna behind you her face told you everything you needed to know. She was going to kill you.

You fired a couple offensive spells at her before taking off running. You were trying to lead her as far away from the 1st and 2nd years as possible. You left Luna with the kids, you knew they were in good hands.

All while you were running for your life Theo was running to find you. You had left him to go find Draco but obviously that never happened. He had got to Draco but now he needed to find you. You were his only concern. "Y/n!" He shouted as he looked for you.

"Y/n! You little slimy brat! You're a disgrace to the bloodline!" She yelled. "CRUCIO!" That's when it hit you. Your now limp body fell to the ground. Within a second every single nerve in your body was being tortured. Knives were being pierced into every inch of your skin. A blood curdling scream being let out from your throat. You felt fire in your veins. The woman cackled at the sight. You've never felt such pain in your life. "Please! Stop!" Your voice cracking. Your face contorted with the pain. The torturous stabbing didn't stop. You were loosing your breath. The white hot knives consumed every cell in your body. Your screams echoed and bounced off the walls of the corridor. She kneeled down next to your face. "It's what you deserve." She spat and stood. "Sectumsempra!" The woman yelled as she slashed her wand at you. The piercing stopped but was replaced with what felt like millions of tiny knives cutting into your skin. This time you actually bled.

Your screams continued as the woman looked down at you grimacing. You wanted to grab your wand and kill the woman. Your wand laid multiple feet from you, no matter how much you wanted to grab it you couldn't. Your body was limp as if someone tranquilized you. The woman smiled at you and began to walk away. "You were never a mother to me. You're gonna die today and after that you're going to rot." You managed to let out. She turned on her heels. "Oh no dear...only one of us is going to die today, and it's not gonna be me." She laughed. The echoes of someone calling your name had caught your attention. You saw him come around the corner, but only for a second before you blacked out.

♫

"Y/n, Y/n, baby, please, please, please. Wake up." A small shaky voice above you said. You felt tears dropping onto your face. Your eyes waveringly opened. Your vision was blurry, unable to focus. Your entirely limp body was in the hands of Theo. One of his arms around your back, his other hand was on your face. Draco stood behind him. His face covered in grief. You could've sworn this was a hallucination. Your hand lifted off the ground to touch his face. The connection made it real. You couldn't feel your body. Theo's eyes were glazing and an indescribable look rested deep within. "Y/n..." His shaky voice was laced with relief. Your eyes wondered down to your own body.

The once unstained white cotton shirt that fitted your body was washed red. A pool of wine colored liquid flooded the cold stone ground beneath you. You were choking on the air that filled your lungs. "Th..Theo" Your eyes let down a stream. "Please make it stop." Your voice croaked. An overwhelming amount of fear washed over your body. You've never thought about how you would die. You always thought after Hogwarts you would go on to bigger things with Theo. You always imagined getting married being a classic bride. A big white lacy dress with flowers and a veil. Walking down the aisle watching Theo shed a few tears with Lucius walking you down the aisle. After that you would've moved into Nott Manor. A few years later you would bare children. Every night you would tuck them in and read them stories. You would watch your kids grow up and one day send them off to Hogwarts to carry on the legacy. Watching them grow and prosper as young witches and wizards. After they run off and get married you and Theo would've moved to Italy together. To a home that overlooked the ocean side. Having a candlelit dinner together every night. You two would've grown old together in peace. Every dream of yours was now ripped away out of your grasp by no other than your own mother.

You had just been staring up at Theo. Your ears finally stopped ringing and you got pulled back into reality. He was now fully crying over you. You looked past Theo to see Draco who was sitting on the ground leaning his head against the wall. His once pale skin was now covered in blotches of red. His white button down was covered in your blood. "Draco..." Your small breathy voice whispered. All of his attention immediately went to you. Within a second he was beside Theo looking down at you. Cold tears that covered their eyes dripping down on to you. "Y/n don't go, please. You're the only sister i've ever had. Please" His voice sounded shattered. He held your hand tightly as if you were hanging on a cliff, his grasp being the only thing keeping you from falling. "I...I love you both, more than anything. Please don't ever forget that." You were slowly losing your breath. Your body held onto whatever air you could let it.

You were beginning to feel that cold sensation that everyone always talked about feeling before dying. Cloudiness filled your head you couldn't even form a coherent thought. Your eyes fluttered up at the both of them. "I love you both more than you would ever know." You felt your body getting weaker by the second. The pool beneath you only growing. You felt a liquid creep up your throat. You tasted the metallic. You wanted to speak. You wanted to tell them how much you loved them, and how you never wanted for this to happen. You wanted to take all your wrongs back. At first it came thick the metal tasting liquid swirled your tongue. Your breath was completely lost. No matter how hard your lungs fought for air the liquid just continued to fill them. The blood trickled down your lips. You took your last jagged breath. Draco’s grip on your hand tightened at the sight. Theo tucked his lips between his teeth. Your vision went completely blurry before going black. The hand that was being held by Draco going lifeless. Your life had slipped away from their grasp. “Y/n….” Theo’s voice croaked. His hand brushed through your hair. He knew it was coming and that it was inevitable. By the time they got to you there was no way to reverse it.

Your eyes that once held a sparkling looking now faded and blank. He sobbed as he watched the light fade away from your eyes. Your fragile cold body laid in his arms. He rested his head down onto your blood ridden chest. His mind was flooded with the soft memories of you. He couldn’t stand the thought of having to live the rest of his life without you. His mind recalled every second he spent with you. All the regrets he had filled his body. All the times he got mad at you or shunned you after a fight. All he wanted to do was to take those things back. He wanted to apologize and plead for your forgiveness. He wanted to tell you he loved you more than the world. He had told you that he would protect you with his life. He had failed. His body yearned for your warm touch, your smile, your soft voice that always told him how loved he was. After all the grief of losing his mother you were his cure. You were his escape from all the pain. The countless nights he cried into your chest, just as he did now. Except this time you weren’t hugging him. Or telling him that it’s okay. This time you couldn’t usher him with your soft words. He sobbed uncontrollably into your cold chest. No matter how much he wanted to stop he couldn’t.

Draco stared down at your cold eyes with an unseeing gaze. His hand still held your unresponsive one. You were his sister unbiological or not. All the anguish you experienced together is was held you two together. You were what helped him keep going all throughout his trauma. The loss of you played with his heart. His soul felt an immense lonely feeling. He lost himself along with you. You were his light in the darkness. You weren’t blood but your unwavering love and loyalty to him is what made you family. He closed his eyes as hard as he could hoping to wake up. Hoping to wake up in his bed to forget this. Wishing it was all just a cruel nightmare. So he could go walk to your dorm and give you a hug. He wanted nothing more than to speak to you one last time. To joke around and laugh together again. To sit in the common room and read together. To listen to you talk and ramble on about your date with Theo and how it went. The loss of you to him was losing a piece of his own life.

You had slipped away and took a piece of their souls with you.

==============

Hope you liked this piece. <3

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word-wytch · 1 year

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Don't Stand So Close To Me

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 1/? 3.5k Series Masterlist

✏︎ Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him.

Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, perv!eddie, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

A/N: I've poured my heart and soul into this one.

Fourth period English was the only class that Eddie Munson could seem to pay attention in, though not exactly to the lessons.

He propped his cheek against his knuckles as he watched you from the back of the classroom.

“See, everything is filtered through Holden’s limited first person narration, so we get really pure insight into how he sees the world, but we also have to take it with a grain of salt,” you said, delicate heels clicking against the tile floor as you paced back and forth. “We see what he pays attention to, and therefore what we ought to pay attention to as readers.”

Eddie’s eyes traced the curve of your waist, over the back of your tweed pencil skirt as you turned to place the chalk back on the ledge at the bottom of the board. It was hugging you in all the right places, as it did every time you wore it. His favorite.

“Alright let’s break out the quotes and notes assignment from chapter ten. Who would like to share their thoughts on a quote with the class?”

Your eyes scanned the room. Students shifted in their chairs in an awkward silence before a hand shot up in the front row.

“Nancy,” you smiled and gestured to her, “Take the floor.”

“Ok so one of the quotes I picked out was where he says ‘I damn near gave my kid sister Phoebe a buzz, though. I certainly felt like talking to her on the phone. Someone with sense and all.’ I think it’s really interesting that he says that she has sense,” said Nancy.

Eddie barely registered a word of what Nancy said. He was too transfixed on your shirt, the way the fabric parted at the buttons when you leaned in just the right way. Sometimes if he was lucky he could catch a flash of skin, a glimpse of delicate lace from your bra. It almost made him wish he would have picked a seat closer to the front of the class.

Nancy continued. “Right now he’s surrounded by very mature things at the hotel that he’s trying to make sense of and has really negative opinions about. He keeps thinking of his little sister though, and that’s always positive, so that’s in contrast to the rest of what’s going on.”

“Thank you, Nancy, that’s exactly right. A juxtaposition, very perceptive of you.”

Eddie shifted in his seat, feeling his pants start to tighten.

“Does anyone else have a quote they’d like to share their thoughts on with the class?”

Chairs creaked, a few legs scooted loudly against the floor in the restless silence. A sniffle.

“Come on, Nancy can’t carry this entire class.” You tapped your fingers on the desk behind you. “Well, I know she could but I’m not going to let her,” you said, giving her a little wink.

Still silence.

“Alright, fine.” You glanced around at the rows of averted eyes until yours settled on the young man in the leather jacket seated at the very back far right corner of the classroom. “Eddie,” you said with a gentle smile.

His dark eyes shot up, face flushing.

“Do you have any thoughts on what you read in chapter ten last night?”

Eddie licked his lips, casting his eyes downward in thought. “I uh,” his mouth was like cotton, “No I don’t really think I… understood the chapter,” he said, giving a sheepish grin. The soft pout of disappointment on your pretty lips made his stomach drop.

“I don’t think he can even read the chapter,” muttered the blonde athlete in the seat next to him.

“Jason,” you began, but Eddie didn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t think you can even read your girlfriend,” he said, to which the class awakened audibly.

Jason shot daggers at Eddie. “Why don’t you quit talking to her and find a girlfriend closer to your age, huh? There’s plenty at the senior home across the street.”

The class erupted in laughter.

“Stop it, both of you!” you shouted over the din. “The next person to make another sound has detention,” you said sternly. The class grew quiet again, allowing space for your voice to soften. “Eddie, please see me after class.”

“Oooh,” mocked Jason as he sat back and laughed.

“Jason, detention.”

“What? No!”

“I told you, the next person to speak has detention. I don’t make idle threats.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a satisfied grin as he watched you command the room.

“Please,” Jason begged, “It’s the last practice before the game tomorrow.”

“No. You can use your time in detention to work on practicing some self control.”

Jason huffed and shot Eddie another glare but Eddie’s eyes were fixed on his desk, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his face contorted. It took all of his strength to bite back a laugh.

You sighed and leaned back on your desk at the front of the classroom. “Now then,” you started, composing yourself, “I’ll be very curious to read all of your assigned journal entries from this chapter, since clearly so many of you have something to say.”

Chairs shifted. A cough.

“Alright, pass them forward,” you said, gesturing to the class.

The room was filled with the sound of sheets being torn from notebooks, binders opening, paper shuffling. The students passed the pages forward up the four rows and you walked by to collect them.

“Why don’t we spend the last fifteen minutes of class silently reading the book, hm? Then maybe tomorrow we might have something to talk about.”

You returned to sit at your desk with the papers as the students opened up their books.

Eddie dug his beat up copy of The Catcher in the Rye out of the mess of his backpack. The red, soft cover spine was beginning to peel away from abuse.

He opened it up to a random page and began to gloss over the words but none of them registered. His mind was too full of other images — the arch of your back, the way you toyed at your lips with your finger in thought, of what you would look like bent over that desk of yours with him on top of you.

Fifteen minutes passed like this. The bell rang.

Eddie waited in his seat as the other students filed out of the classroom, turning to bury the book in his backpack in an effort to avoid Jason, but it didn’t matter.

“Watch it, freak. I mean it, I’ve got my eyes on you,” said Jason, to which Eddie simply raised his eyebrows in mock fear.

After the last student left, Eddie slowly approached you, dragging his feet a little as he walked.

You swiped the last of the chalk from the board with the eraser, leaving a small cloud of dust as you turned to face him.

“Sorry for the outburst today.” The chain on his wrist rattled as he brought a hand to his chest, “I meant no disrespect,” he said earnestly. “Well, I did to Jason, but never to you.”

You returned a soft smile, “Thanks, I appreciate the apology even though I can see that you weren’t exactly the instigator.”

“Yeah, well, Jason, like any basic primate, seems to think that any male who comes within three feet of his mate is a threat.”

A snort escaped you. Basic primate.

Eddie’s eyes crinkled, his smile contagious. “Besides, Chrissy’s the one who came over to talk to me anyway.”

You sighed and shook your head, not really knowing what to say.

“Sorry, I know, I’ll stop.”

You gave him a gracious look and took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Eddie,” you started.

His mouth curved ever so slightly as he relished in the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“We’ve been in class for about a month now,” you began, “You haven’t turned in an assignment in the last two weeks.”

Eddie scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“Now I might be new to teaching here, but I know this isn’t your first time in this class, nor your second. Clearly there must be some part of you that wants to graduate, or else you would have just dropped out two years ago, right?” you asked, searching his eyes. “You don’t strike me as the sort of person who does anything they don’t want to do.”

Eddie smirked, “It’s only been a month and you already know me so well, miss.”

There was something about the way that he said it that brought a heat to your cheeks. You tucked your hair behind your ear in an attempt to hide it. “Well, what do you think we can do about this little conundrum then? I don’t want to see you fail.”

“I dunno, maybe I just… need a little help?” he said sheepishly.

You hummed, bringing a curved finger to your lips in thought. “I want to help you, but you have to be willing to put in some effort.”

“I know, I’ve been totally slacking. That’s on me. I can change that,” he said assuredly, “I promise.”

You smiled softly at his earnestness. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, I would be open to tutoring you. I have some time after school today if you want to stop by my classroom, we can come up with a game plan then.”

Eddie’s dark eyes widened at the suggestion, “I’d appreciate that very much, miss.”

You gave a nod, “Sure thing. I’ll see you after school then. I’ll be here.”

“See ya later,” he said, grabbing his well worn backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Oh, and,” he turned back toward you, closing the distance between you even further. His eyes lingered over your lips for a moment before meeting your gaze again, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you half whispered.

You turned toward your desk to gather the papers in as neat a pile as you could manage with the frayed edges left by spiral notebooks and placed them in your fourth period grading folder. The bell rang out again through the halls signaling lunch period. You grabbed your purse from under your desk and closed the classroom door behind you.

Walking through the halls of Hawkins High was like a strange recurring dream. Same drop ceiling, same tile floor. Same weird smell when you walked past the science room. The same cliques too — the jocks, the burnouts, the party animals. This time with less bell bottoms and fringe, more leg warmers and hairspray. Surprisingly little had changed.

You opened the door to the teacher’s lounge adjacent to the cafeteria. The wood paneled walls and old carpet were much less familiar to you than the hallways and classrooms you had spent countless hours in. It was strange to be on this side of things now.

“How’s your day going so far, sweetie?” chimed Ms. Click, putting the glass coffee pot back on the warmer.

“Oh, you know, just another day of pulling teeth from my class. I swear Nancy Wheeler was the only one who read the chapter last night.”

A swoon swept across the room. “Oh Nancy, she really is such a bright star isn’t she?” Ms. Click remarked, her voice sweet like table sugar. “You know she kind of reminds me of you when you were her age, doesn’t she, Doris?”

Doris O’Donnell hummed and pursed her lips with a little nod.

“Well, smarts-wise anyway. Boy I try not to pick favorites but you certainly were a pleasure to have in class. If I’m remembering right you were valedictorian, weren’t you?”

You offered a weak smile, “Yep, class of ’74.”

“’74? Goodness it hasn’t been that long has it? Gosh we sure are getting old aren’t we?” she called over to Ms. O’Donnell, the beads on her glasses chain rattling as she laughed, “Oh goodness I don’t mean you sweetie,” she said, putting her hand on yours reassuringly, “Heck if I didn’t know you I would have mistaken you for a student!”

“Thank you Ms. — I mean Peggy.” You grabbed a mug from the stack and turned it over in your hands. #1 Teacher. The matte apple and text printed on the front of it was fading with age. You filled it with coffee and and grabbed a small open milk carton sitting nearby, watching the cream swirl in the mug before taking a seat at one of the three round tables with plastic veneer to look like wood.

“Gosh, you know I don’t mean to pry, but with such a pretty face to match the good head on your shoulders I would have thought you’d have a different last name by now.”

You stared into your coffee, feeling the ghost of the ring on your finger. “Ah, yeah. Almost, but… it didn’t work out.”

“Oh — I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s um — it’s fine.”

“You know there’s plenty of lovely young bachelors at St. Michael’s, we’re having a potluck tonight if you want to come.”

It took all of your strength to hide a visible grimace. Sounds delightful. “No thanks, I can’t. I’ve offered to tutor a student after school today.”

“Who might that be?” asked Ms. Click.

“Eddie Munson.��

The whole room groaned.

Ms. O’Donnell cackled from her corner, her toad-like face contorting. “Good luck. I’ve been stuck with him for the last three years. Honestly I don’t know why he’s still in school. He’s too old to be here anymore if you ask me.”

Your eyes shot up from your coffee. “Well, he must have some desire to be here or otherwise he wouldn’t be. Isn’t it our duty as teachers to help students achieve milestones?”

Ms. O’Donnell huffed, “Oh yeah, he needs help alright. None that I can give him though.”

“I can imagine that help would be a difficult thing to offer while putting him down.”

She snorted, “Sure sweetie. Say some magic words of encouragement, that’ll do the trick. Hey, pick me up a little fairy dust too while you’re at it.”

Laughter rang out across the teachers lounge.

Your lips formed a hard line as you popped open the tupperware container which held your salad.

“Keep us posted, will you? We’re all dying to know how it goes.”

______

You could hear the lockers slamming shut as the din in the hallway began to die down, students filtering out with the last bell of the day. You flipped through the pile of notebook papers on your desk, making small notes on each one with a green pen before setting them onto the neat pile in front of you. You never liked to use red, too harsh.

There was a strange feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t seem to shake. You wondered if perhaps the chicken on your salad had sat in the fridge for a few days too many.

Your eyes shot up from your papers as you heard footsteps at the door. “Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie flashed you a smile and a little wave as he dragged a chair from the far corner of the room to the empty spot across from you and plunked himself down in it.

“How are you?” you asked.

“Oh, you know, just another day in suburban paradise.”

You chuckled dryly, “Yeah, you could say that again.”

Eddie fiddled with his rings, twisting them as he looked at you with those big dark eyes.

“So first off, let’s talk about the book we’re reading in class. Have you read any of it?”

“I did read the first few chapters, kind of lost interest though, sorry,” he admitted.

You nodded curtly. “The Catcher in the Rye seems to be a fairly polarizing book from my experience. Some students love it, others hate it. I myself am in the former camp, of course. I tend to find that most of the people who don’t like it just don’t quite understand it.”

Eddie gave a short puff of air through his nose. “I could say the same thing about most of the shit I’m interested in.”

You smiled sympathetically. “Is reading not really your thing?”

“Actually, contrary to the opinion of a certain primate, I do like to read.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Like what?”

“Fantasy mostly, The Lord of the Rings, really anything Tolkien writes. I’ve read those books a few times through actually,” he said, “Probably kind of stupid to read the same thing over and over when you could be reading other things, but — ”

“No, that’s not stupid at all! I’ve read them more than once too, actually.” Your eyes were sparkling. “They’re some of my favorites.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. “You? A geek? Never would have guessed.”

You smirked at him. You couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. “Actually incorporating world building with storytelling the way that Tolkien does is something I’ve always tried to emulate in my own writing.”

“Your own writing?” Eddie shifted in his chair, leaning in.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, glancing downward, wishing you could suck the words back into your mouth.

“You write books?”

“I… don’t know if you could quite call them books if they aren’t published, or totally finished but — I do like to write stories.”

Eddie’s eyes were enormous. “Can I read them? Oh please let me read them.”

The heat was back in your cheeks again. “Oh jeez, I don’t know, it’s been ages since I’ve even looked at them myself.”

Eddie leaned in even more, his elbows on the desk. “Come on,” his smile was so disarming, “What, you think I’m gonna like, judge you or something?”

You looked down at the papers you were grading and clicked the pen in your hand. “I don’t know, writing is such an oddly… personal thing.”

“Please? You know I’m like the last person to be passing judgement on something like that, right?”

You sighed. His eyes were big, and wet, and pleading and you cursed yourself for being stirred by them. “Ok, how about this, if you can get your grades up, get at least a B in one of your classes, I’ll let you read one of my stories.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear. “Challenge accepted.”

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you met his smile, “Whatever motivates you,” you said trying not to think too hard about the implications of the deal you just made. “You know, what I really want to talk about is the creative writing assignment you turned in the first week of class.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That bad, huh?”

“No! Actually not bad at all. Actually quite good. You’re very creative, Eddie.”

“Oh is that what they’re calling it these days?” he deflected.

“No, I’m serious. You’ve written stories before, haven’t you?”

“Well, I am the dungeon master for my DnD club.”

You squinted your eyes curiously at him.

“Oh! So basically, I come up with the plot of the story that they players are going to play. I create the world essentially, lead them through the story. Well, to some extent. The monsters are all from a guidebook but the plot is all me.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Creativity and leadership.”

Eddie chuckled and scratched the back of his head to distract from the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, well, doesn’t change the fact that I’m 20 years old and still in high school.”

“About that,” you started, “Why do you want to graduate? Maybe if you can identify the reason for reaching your goal, then you can find the motivation to work toward it. Besides wanting to read my stories anyway, like a personal reason.”

Eddie sat back in his chair for a moment, biting his lip in thought. “Uhh, maybe to prove all the assholes in this god forsaken purgatory wrong?”

You laughed, probably a bit too hard. “I think that’s an excellent reason.”

Eddie beamed. “See, I knew I liked you.”

You coyly returned his smile and fidgeted with the pen in your hand again. “Let’s figure out a day or two when we can meet weekly. Got any after school conflicts?”

“My band plays at the Hideout Tuesday nights, Fridays I’ve got Hellfire Club.”

“How about Mondays and Wednesdays then? Does that work for you?”

“Sure does.”

“Great, and I can help you with other classes too, to the best of my ability anyway. Show you how best to study, how to approach papers and essays — that sort of stuff.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said softly.

The feeling in your stomach was back again. “Me too.”

______

Thank you so much for reading, tons more to come! Comments and reblogs keep me going! 🙏

Tag list: @ooo-protean-ooo @toxicjayhoo @mermaidsandcats29 @jadequeen88 @msgexymunson @wroteclassicaly @inknopewetrust @storiesbyrhi @kissmyacdc @cherry-vamps @willgrahamspsycheval

There are some of you are on this list who I talked to about this months ago! Sorry it took me a while to get this up but I’ve spent the last month outlining this monstrosity. That’s mostly out of the way now so updates should be pretty regular, like once a week. 💕

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader #my writing #Eddie munson older reader

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sailorblossoms · 1 month

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Simon always wanted to put Baz first. Even before want was even a possibility, a part of him was always driven to do that.

His obsession with Baz is a big indicator of his feelings for him. Part of those feelings are a need to make sure Baz is an important part of his life.

When they're "enemies," Simon only knows how to interact with Baz in anger (the one emotion he's familiar with... romantic love, and perhaps love in general, alongside sexual desire are completely alien to him). If Simon isn't angry at Baz, if he's not picking fights with him, then "he has no way" to secure even an interaction with Baz. It's part of why is so difficult to even contemplate that Baz's life doesn't revolve around plotting against Simon, why he can't listen to Penny and let the idea go, and why he instantly changes his tune when Penny says Baz is his sworn enemy (instantly downplaying it, like it's not actually that serious, like Simon doesn't actually want to define his relationship with Baz as enemies for real, and if someone else says it, it might make it more true)

Simon doesn't know how to exist outside of roles and worldviews he has been told he should conform to for much of CO. He doesn't actually want Baz to be his enemy, but if Baz isn't plotting, then “he would have no reason” to be part of Simon’s story – he would merely be a background character, barely mentioned as a roommate who has no role in the story (and no place in Simon's life) and so Simon can't let that go. If he accepts Baz wasn’t plotting nearly as much as he says he is, that means Baz isn't thinking about him all that much. It means he doesn't have Baz's attention – he's not on Baz's mind as much Baz is on his (and I've noticed that, while I'm sure Simon's list of moments Baz pays him attention or pranks him or related is incomplete, it's not super long... Baz mentions Simon wouldn't let him breathe and when he does, he's still not leaving him alone, and Simon backing off is only momentarily. Meaning Baz didn't have to do much/plot much to get Simon's attention because he had it all the time).

Baz has been cast as the antagonist, so in order to have any place in the hero's life, he must plot. He must be antagonistic. And so the only way Simon knows how to prioritize Baz – because he wants Baz to be a priority in his life, because he's obsessed with him, because he's in love and so attracted it makes him shortcircuit – is to never shut up about Baz plotting... to the point it forces his best friend, who he spends most of his time with, to limit how much he can talk about Baz. Otherwise, they would rarely talk about anything else

#simon snow #baz pitch #simon snow trilogy #snowbaz #carry on #baz grimm pitch #baz x simon #simon x baz

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jaegeraether · 4 months

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 54)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (48) & Alexia Putellas x Character (14)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**5k. Split between YFN and Alexia's POV. Gentle reminder that Alexia refers to YFN as Blau (Blue in Catalan)**)

Seeing Lucy crying cut Alexia to her core. Brave, confident, happy Lucy. She watched from the other side of the room near Ridley’s own hospital bed. They’d tried to console her but they could only do so much. The rest would come when Blau woke.

The past day had been such a mix of emotions ranging from happiness when she and Lucy were up talking, to nerves when they’d gone to pick up Ridley, to complete and utter despair. Ridley was currently sitting in her hospital bed, still a little effected by the drugs after her surgery to realign the bones in her hand with screws and pins. She now wore a black cast though she didn’t seem too bothered over it as her attention was also on Lucy who was sitting in a chair beside Blau’s bed, holding her good hand, her forehead on it and her body shaking as she sobbed. She’d woken a few times but never for long, and never long enough that she’d remember it.

Alexia couldn’t leave if she wanted to. She couldn’t leave Lucy, not like that. Ridley must have sensed it because she didn’t usher her away or suggest she be somewhere else. One look and she knew why she needed to stay.

A nurse came in then and hesitated when she saw Lucy before she walked over to Ridley and Alexia.

“We just need one more signature from you, please,” she said softly in Catalan, holding a clipboard out for Ridley.

Alexia opened her mouth to answer but Ridley beat her to it. “Of course, thank you Paula.” She responded in surprisingly great Catalan as she took the pen with her left hand and signed the paper. Alexia couldn’t help but look. She was paying for all of the expenses for her and Blau.

“Again, if any other cost comes up for them, please come straight to me. Don’t involve them.”

Paula nodded with a sympathetic smile before she left. Ridley’s head leant back against her propped up bed as her attention turned to her friend, still waiting for her to properly wake.

“You speak Catalan?” Alexia asked in the language, genuinely impressed.

“Only a bit. It’s far from perfect,” she murmured, as if admitting a flaw. But it wasn’t. Alexia was always surprised by her. She didn’t compliment her Catalan, because Ridley didn’t need or want that. She knew how good she was. She turned her head towards Alexia, both looking for a distraction.

“Have you thought more on your favourite…favour?” Ah, there it was. Her limited vocabulary in Catalan. It was cute. Though, when she spoke, she only tended to speak what she was confident with which made her sound very fluent and natural. People would barely notice if it weren’t a long, complex discussion.

She thought on it. After Alexia had helped take her anger and calm her down, Ridley had felt in her debt. A favour owed, according to her. She always liked to be on the side of owning favours, not owing one, Alexia realised. Though she also knew she’d rarely ever take someone up on her charity.

“Not as of yet.”

“Ah, let me know when you do, please. Anything you want, just name it.” She said it without a care in the world, and Alexia truly did wonder just how rich she was.

“You’re going to stay by her side, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

“So you’re going to London?”

“It appears so.”

Alexia wondered how long she’d be gone for this time. Jonatan and the Barca management had fully approved that Lucy had time off to look after her, and her plan had been to take her back to London and look after her there while she prepped for the Olympic qualifiers. “When?”

“Lucy plans to get her back to London as soon as she can as her family are there and a few of Blue’s new friends. I was planning on going over at a similar time.”

“Work won’t be affected?”

Ridley gave her a smirk. “Not in most ways.”

Alexia tilted her head, pondering what she’d meant.

“And you?” She looked down at her knee. “How long are you not play?”

Alexia smiled at the mistake and Ridley’s return smile was serotonin straight to her heart. She loved hearing her speak her first language. It moved something in her so deeply.

“My knee is still painful. I won’t be playing anytime soon.”

“The rest of the year?”

She shook her head, unable to stop her own look of disappointment. Ridley watched those expressions cross her face as she tried to control them. She didn’t know why she bothered, she knew she could see straight through all of them. Perhaps it was just habit of her to hide her feelings.

“Why not go to London?”

“I…” she looked over at Lucy and Blau. “I don’t really know anyone in London.”

Ridley shrugged as she grabbed a green jelly from the bedside table and opened it with her teeth.

“You know Lucy. You know Blue. You know me. That’s all you need.” She took a mouthful with her spoon in her left hand like it was her dominant hand. “Besides, I tend to worry you’re too… confined… to Catalonia.” She teased.

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How so?”

“Everything you know is your home. Your family, friends, club, teammates, University, holidays.”

Something about Ridley knowing all of that stirred something in her. “I holiday in Ibiza.” She countered.

“Yes, which is a thirty-euro, one hour flight away.” She rolled her eyes as she finished her jelly, tossing it into the garbage can like a Basketball player. “You’re missing out on the world, la Reina.”

Alexia knew she was right, but she liked her comfort. She looked over at the couple again. That was one of the reasons why she respected Lucy so much, because she loved to live in the uncomfortable. She picked her life up and moved to the US, moved to Lyon, moved to Barcelona, learned the languages, made knew friends. She wondered how much she missed out on learning by sticking to the same type of play and same clubs.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Oh, I am.” She said it more nonchalant, but her expression was the tiniest bit challenging. “I have an apartment in London that you could use, if you like. There may be another person there from time to time but it’s large enough.”

She was inviting her to stay in her apartment? “We don’t know each other; you said it yourself.”

“You care for others, and that’s all I need to know about you. How you make others feel about themselves says a lot about you, Alexia.”

Alexia felt herself staring at her mouth as those words rolled off her tongue in Catalan. There was no mistake there. Alexia looked up and her eyes met Ridley’s. They were deep, calming, intelligent; their little dancing gold flecks teasing, even. She felt naked but not undressed, just appreciated. And seen. Like she didn’t need to say what she was thinking. She’d never experienced that with someone before in her life. Ridley reached out and Alexia didn’t move, she trusted her and already agreed with whatever would happen. Keeping their eye contact, Ridley used the fingertips of her good hand to ever so softly trace where her hand had been around Alexia’s throat. She hadn’t left marks, of course she hadn’t. Alexia’s eyes fluttered as she enjoyed the touch.

“I’d never hurt you,” she murmured.

“I know you wouldn’t,” she murmured back and felt her fingers disappear, already missing their touch. She was so gentle. The duality of Ridley was so fascinating to her.

“How?”

“Because you’re… soft.”

Ridley tilted her head as she’d said that. Alexia had made sure to say the last word extra gently.

“I’ve never been described as that before except...” She looked over at Blau.

“Then I guess she’s the only person who really knows you.”

Ridley turned back at those words. “And now you, it seems.”

They studied each other for a little longer when Ridley opened her mouth to speak but not before the door opened and a red faced, teary-eyed Jordan Nobbs entered the room.

YFN heard a low conversation in English from the other side of the room but her brain failed to comprehend it. It was more focussed on the sobbing coming from near YFN’s right hand. She looked down to see Lucy with her cheek on the back on her palm as she held it.

“Luce?”

Lucy’s head whipped up at the sound of her nickname and she stood, wiping her cheeks with the back of her free hand.

“Hey little one.”

YFN wondered what the time was and looked around to see exactly where she was, a little confused.

“You’re okay. We're in the hospital.” Lucy explained as she leaned over her.

In the hospital? Ah, so that was what the pain and partial numbness was. She looked up as her view was completely taken by Lucy. God, she was pretty.

“Why are you crying, Luce?”

She shook head. “Because…” Lucy looked down her body, covered in a blanket though YFN understood. She could feel the pain. “Do you remember what happened?”

She did when she asked that. Kristie, the man, the kicking and the hitting and the yelling. Ridley almost killing him. She looked past Lucy to the other bed where Ridley was sitting and watching her, now silent. Alexia was behind her sitting next to Jordan who were also both watching, seeming relieved that she was awake. She looked back at Lucy.

“Is Narla okay?”

Lucy gave an unbelieving chuckle. “Out of all of the questions, that’s your first?”

She gave a little smile and Lucy shook her head again. “Yes, she’s fine. Just got a little scared. Keira has her at the moment.”

“Good… and you’re okay?” Although weak, she reached up with the arm not giving her pain and cupped her cheek, using her thumb to wipe the tears from under her glasses. Lucy leant into her palm.

“I am now, little one.”

“How long…?”

“Just over a day.”

She gasped and then winced at the pain in her ribs.

“Take it easy, love. What do you need?”

“Um… a shower and food and… something for the pain. A lot for the pain.”

She nodded. “Okay, we’ll get you that.” She paused and she leant down. “I’m just so glad you’re awake.”

She kissed her gently and YFN melted into her warmth before she made a little groan and pulled away.

“I need to brush my teeth,” she murmured, as if Lucy should have known.

Lucy chuckled and rolled her eyes. YFN enjoyed seeing her happy and squeezed her hand before she looked back at the trio who were giving them space. Lucy noticed and stepped aside as they made their way over. Ridley was there first.

“Hey baby.”

“Hey Riddles.”

Ridley bent down and gave her a soft hug with a kiss on the cheek. She leant back and YFN saw her black cast as she inspected her jaw closely between her fingertips.

“Broken?”

“No… no just displaced. It’s back in now but pretty bruised. It’ll be sore for a while.”

“Like the rest of me.” She touched her cast. “Did you have surgery?”

Ridley nodded. “Went well. A few pins and screws for alignment. Nothing too fancy.”

She heard Lucy scoff and knew she was downplaying it. Typical Ridley.

“I’m going to get the doctor so we can get you checked before you shower.”

She went to move away before she bent down again.

“Missed you, Blue.”

“I have that effect on people.”

Ridley smirked and rolled her eyes before she left.

Jordan was next, her doe eyes all teary. She looked around her body from her arm in the sling to her bruised face and bruised ribs, wondering where she could hug. YFN lifted her good arm and Jordan gently pressed herself against her.

“Welcome to Spain, Dory.”

“I wished it were under better circumstances,” she sobbed. “I was so scared.”

“I’m sorry… I’m okay.” YFN kissed her temple as they hugged. “Thanks for coming.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

The door opened then and Ridley entered with a doctor.

“I want to hear all about your date after my shower, okay?”

Jordan nodded and stepped back.

Although she and Alexia weren’t so close yet, the Spaniard stepped forward and placed a kiss on either cheek and gave her a soft hug also.

“It is good to see you awake.”

“I heard you…” YFN whispered and watched Alexia wonder and then realise almost all at once. “Thank you for caring…”

Only they both knew she wasn’t just talking about for her, but for Ridley also.

Alexia nodded and stood back as the doctor approached her.

He started by doing some testing on her and follow up checks before he listed all of the breaks and wounds, and went through the surgeries in great English. She was embarrassed when he had to remove the catheter, though the trio left the room so she could have her privacy for that. The doctor offered to take his time before she attempted to stand as she wouldn’t be walking anyways. Her left knee was in a black brace that took up a the majority of her thigh and calf because of her patella fracture, and she couldn’t use crutches because her left arm was in a sling due to her broken collarbone, her left forearm and wrist in a cast to protect her other fractures. Her only mode of transport for weeks would be a wheelchair, hopping, or Lucy carrying her which was also difficult with her broken ribs.

She sighed, frustrated but forced herself to stand and put weight on her one good leg. God, it felt good to stand. She didn’t realise she’d become one with the bed, but after a few minutes, she just wanted to sit straight back down again.

He explained to her the rehabilitation process and what it would entail.

“We’ll be in London,” Lucy said to him.

YFN looked up at her. “We will?”

“I was thinking as soon as you can leave, we’ll get straight on a plane to London so I can look after you there. And you’ll have Jords and Katie and Caitlin and Kyra. Plus you’ll be closer to work. Not that you’ll be going, but it’s better than being two hours away…”

“You have leave?”

She nodded. “Alexia talked to management. I have leave for a few weeks and can take more depending on if you need me. I’ll be with you as long as you need, whether it's a few weeks, or a few months.”

YFN couldn’t help the smile creeping across her face and getting larger. She saw Lucy’s eyes dart to her dimples as she grinned back. Finally, a silver lining. Now they had time to be together. Definitely not ideal, but she’d take it.

“I like the sound of that.”

They turned back to the doctor.

“We’ll be in London,” Lucy repeated.

The doctor nodded and gave recommendations for rehabilitation facilities and doctors. He and Lucy spoke aftercare and all things treatment while she and Jordan were convincing Ridley to let them sign her cast. She eventually agreed.

“Okay, okay but nothing inappropriate for work, please.”

“You’re going to work?” Jordan asked.

“Most of the administration I can do with one hand.” She held out a silver sharpie and YFN rolled her eyes.

“You bought this because you knew I’d insist.”

“You know me, baby. Always prepared.”

“We’re not exactly talking contraception here, Riddles,” she teased.

“You’re almost as funny as me. Keep trying, though.”

YFN groaned and signed her cast.

*Thanks for saving me again, Romeo. I love you. x *

Ridley couldn’t help but grin at what she wrote. Jordan was next. And then Ridley extended the sharpie to Alexia who took it hesitantly.

She wrote something in Spanish or… possibly Catalan that YFN couldn't read but she saw Ridley approving, slowly nodding and then they shared a smile just meant for them.

The doctor left and Lucy returned.

“So, London?” YFN asked.

“Yeah, I think it’s best, and my family want to see you too. They’ll be overwhelmingly trying to support you and offer you anything and everything though, just warning you.”

“Sounds perfect. Is Narla coming?”

She nodded. “Of course! Not going anywhere without my girl. And if I’m out at the shops or something, you’ll have a friend.”

Thoughtful Lucy, as always.

“Good thinking, Luce. You can’t miss the qualifiers… have you spoken to Sarina?”

“Yep, right after Alexia helped Barca give me leave. She’s happy for me to have the week and more off but I’ll need to be in for training. I really don’t like the idea of leaving you alone though.”

“I’ll have Dory.”

She looked at Jordan who nodded.

“You were not… called to play?” Alexia asked, surprised.

Jordan shook her head. “Nah, Sarina doesn’t like the way I play. It’s okay, though. I’ll take the break and it’s good, now I can look after this one.”

“What are you going to do, Alexia?” Lucy asked.

“You’re not playing?” It was Jordan’s turn to sound surprised.

“No, my knee is… giving me problem. I won’t play for few weeks.”

“Why don’t you come over to London with us?” YFN asked and felt Lucy’s thumb stroke her hand supportively. Of course she’d ask her to come, she was always thinking of other people.

Alexia looked at Ridley. “It was suggest to me…”

Ridley gave her a smile. “You should come.”

“You’re coming too?!” YFN asked.

“You kidding, baby? Of course I’m coming. I’ll just work from London. If you need me, I’ll be close. And I will be checking up on you.”

YFN looked at the women around her and felt supported. “Thanks Riddles.”

“Welcome. Now, the doctor said you can leave in a few days. I booked you all a flight on the 22nd in the morning. First class and they’re aware of your… disability.”

“Gee, thanks.”

A cheeky Ridley grin. “Anytime. Just give me your email addresses and I’ll email your flight details through.”

“What do we owe you?” Lucy asked.

Ridley looked offended and Lucy dropped the subject.

She took their email addresses down before turning to Alexia. “And yours?”

“You… book me a ticket?”

“Of course.”

Alexia gave her a look as if to say ‘cocky’ and gave her email address, then looking on her phone as it buzzed.

YFN looked around her and only saw other people’s phones before she looked up at Lucy.

“My phone… is it still in the alleyway?”

“No, love. I have it. It broke so I bought you a new one.”

She pulled the new phone from her pocket and gave it to her.

“Wow, you really are marriage material.”

Lucy looked proud of herself.

“Don’t give her a bigger head!” Jordan scoffed.

“You don’t have ticket?” Alexia asked Ridley. “You said you bought ‘us’ ticket.”

Ridley studied her face before she spoke. “No, I don’t have a ticket. But I will see you there.”

“When?”

“A similar time, perhaps. Depends on work. Don’t worry, the apartment is big enough that you may not even see me there.”

“Understatement of the century,” YFN murmured. “You’re staying with Ridley?”

“My place only has two rooms and Jordan will be staying…” Lucy said.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Jordan suggested.

“Or we can all stop bickering and accept that I have the room and availability. Discussion over. Go shower, Blue, I can smell you from here.”

YFN smacked her with her good hand.

Lucy helped her hop to the bathroom and remove her clothes. It was long and painful process that she did with such care. She found herself naked in Lucy’s arms, just enjoying the feel of her as she leant into her clothed body. She went to turn around to the mirror and Lucy didn’t let her.

“Luce… I want to see.”

“I don’t think you should, little one.”

She pressed a kiss to her neck. “I need to see.”

Lucy sighed and helped her to turn around and look at her naked body in the mirror. She gasped and then winced at the pain. She was only small and felt like most of her body was covered in bandages, from her knee brace to her sling and arm cast. Her ribs we not bandaged and sported dark purple splotches that looked aggressive and dangerous. She was surprised it wasn’t bandaged. One of Lucy’s hands moved from her hips and lightly traced over the area she was looking at.

“Compression bandages won’t help, it’ll hinder your breathing. They have a square bandage splint for it that they’ll put on after the shower…”

She nodded as Lucy kissed her cheek.

Her eyes roamed further over the bruising and grazes that sported her knees, elbows, forearms and face. Her jaw was a similar shade of purple in the places she’d been hit, but at least it wasn’t broken, just sore.

“Are you okay, love?” Lucy asked softly in her ear.

She nodded as she finished assessing herself. “At least I don’t have a black eye.”

“Your ability to see the positive in everything is one of the reasons why I adore you so much.”

YFN smiled as Lucy’s lips trailed soft kisses down her neck and across her good shoulder. She swayed on her foot and leant back into her. Lucy. She’d have Lucy for the next few weeks, all to herself. She gave a little, satisfied moan.

“No sex in the shower we share… unless the invite is open?!” Ridley yelled from the other side of the door.

They both laughed, YFN only stopping because of the pain in her ribs.

“Can we shower now, Luce? I feel like a flamingo.”

The shower wasn’t really a shower. She couldn’t get the brace or cast wet so it was more like Lucy wetting a flannel and cleaning her down. It was better than nothing, though. Lucy was thorough and gentle and made sure she felt fresh and clean. She sat her on the sink while Lucy herself showered and YFN brushed her teeth while she watched, enjoying the view and not shy about showing it as she looked her up and down. Lucy winked at her and purposely went sexy with the body wash, she swore. As she got out and dried herself, Lucy came closer and YFN couldn’t help but stroke her finger down her abs. They were standing out more than usual, which meant…

“Luce, when was the last time you ate?”

Lucy pouted. “Maybe a snack when Alexia and I were waiting to go pick you up from the airport…”

“Lucia!”

“I was upset… I still am.”

“Ridley!”

“Already on it!”

“Will you eat now?”

“Now that you’re awake and making jokes?” She leant forward, her hand going either side of YFN on the sink as her towel dropped to the floor. Her lips met YFN’s teasingly. She couldn’t nibble them, because her lip was split, but she teased the Australian with her tongue and by slowly brushing her lips over her own in such a tantalising way. “Starved.” She whispered against her lips and YFN knew she wasn’t just talking about food.

She kissed her, her tongue licking her lips and although YFN had to keep her movements small to avoid pain, somehow she managed and moaned into her mouth.

“Oh my god, the door is fucking hollow!” Ridley yelled and they heard Jordan laughing in the back. Lucy kissed her for a few more seconds before pulling away.

“Jealously doesn’t suit you, Ridley.”

“She’s a walking bruise, Bronze. Put your dick away. Food is almost here.”

Alexia was texting Alba when the pair re-joined the room in comfy clothes and settled into a freshly made bed which Blau made Lucy join her in. Somehow with the wincing and bruising, they managed the fit next to each other. Ridley showered somehow with her cast and re-joined her bed just in time for the food to arrive.

“Is this what I think it is?” Blau asked.

Ridley gave her a wink. “The pizza we didn’t have? Yeah, baby.”

At first Alexia thought she’d ordered too much and then realised just how hungry they all were, but mainly Lucy. She went through almost two pizzas herself.

It was Alexia’s first time meeting Jordan and apparently Ridley’s also, but as expected, Ridley won her over with ease. They all spoke for a bit longer while they enjoyed their pizza, talking about London and all things football. Jordan was the first to leave. Lucy handed over her house keys.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone… ” Blau stressed.

“Keira’s coming over with Narla for the night to keep me company.”

“Oh! That’s cute.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her so it’ll be a nice little catch up.”

With hugs and goodbyes, she left and Blau and Lucy settled down for sleeping, Lucy’s arm around her carefully.

“Don’t roll on me please.”

“I’ll be too nervous to. I don’t think I’ll get any sleep.”

“No funny business, you two.” Ridley warned the couple.

She saw Blau roll her eyes. “Yes, because we’re going to fuck in front of company and when I have more broken bones than not.”

Ridley chuckled as she turned to Alexia.

“Are you staying?” She asked in Spanish. Alexia wondered if she’d be overstepping if she did, even though most of her ached to stay.

“I need to see my family before I go…”

Ridley nodded with an unreadable expression as she handed her a black fob and card.

“I will be back tomorrow… ” she assured her.

“Regardless. Here’s the key to the London apartment. And the address and codes are on the card. You have a driver picking you up from the airport.”

Alexia was surprised at her forwardness. She’d never had someone handling all of her issues before. It was relaxing and took some stress away of going to an English speaking country.

“Thank you.”

Ridley leaned back into the bed and closed her eyes as if it were nothing. “You’re welcome.”

Alexia stopped by to see Blau’s progress over the next two days. Ridley had been discharged the next day, though paid for the bed so no one would be in the room with them. Only Alexia knew that, though, because she’d seen the paperwork. She’d walked in on Lucy and Blau on a few video calls with family and friends, though Lucy always gave her time while Blau was busy ensuring everyone she was okay and that Lucy was looking after her.

It was difficult to tie things up in Spain because Ridley was right, she’d never really left and beyond that, she didn’t know how long she’d be gone for.

She packed her suitcase, said goodbye to her family and as soon as they were discharged, they were all headed to the airport. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Blau blushing as she was wheeled around in a wheelchair, though she, Jordan and Lucy thought it was funny. She comforted her on the drive, still not sure how she’d been so mentally resistant to the event that had occurred.

Lucy checked in Narla and their bags and then they made their way through security with ease because they were with a wheelchair. That encouraged Blau to be even more embarrassed as Lucy wheeled her through hundreds of people.

“You should be wheeling me,” Lucy comforted. “I’m the old one.”

Also due to the wheelchair, they were boarded before anyone else. It was great, though the aircraft had already been delayed by thirty minutes. Aboard they settled into their seats. They took up most of the first class front row from Jordan at the window next to Alexia and then Blau and Lucy on the far side.

As they were still boarding, Alexia was scrolling through the movies on screen when it froze as the Captain made an announcement.

“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for joining us on our flight today. Apologies for the delay, there was a slight maintenance issue that is now resolved. We’re just waiting on a departure slot and a few signatures, and we’ll be underway. Again, apologies for the delay and thank you for flying with us.”

He repeated the message in Spanish.

Alexia turned to Blau. “Do you know when Ridley comes?”

“Last I heard, she picked up a last minute job and knowing Ridley, that could be anywhere.”

Alexia nodded and turned her attention back to the screen in front of her. She was looking forward to more time with Ridley but wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t see her at all. It was Ridley, after all.

“Nervous flyer?” Jordan asked.

“No, it’s okay. I just don’t go to London unless for play really. How about you?”

“I get a little nervous. And then there’s a maintenance issue…”

“Oh, they say that all the time, we are okay.” Alexia gave her a reassuring smile. She turned back to her tv which froze again as another message came from the flight deck.

“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for your patience. My name is Jon Lopez and I’ll be your Captain for the flight today. Joining me in the cockpit will be your first officer, Isabel Rivera and we are honoured to be joined by an incredible Chief Pilot, and former fighter jet pilot as they conduct a standard flight review, so I assure you that you are in very, very capable hands up here. We are now fully boarded with our required signatures, just waiting on our favourite Chief Pilot and our departure slot which we’ll get in the next ten minutes.”

Blau scoffed and Alexia looked at her. “What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

She was confused and blamed her lack of English. She did that often; pretended to understand and just nod when she didn’t.

The Captain repeated in Spanish and Alexia saw Jordan shaking at the announcement. “Now they’re doing a flight review?!”

Alexia extended her hand to the small, trembling woman who took it and gripped on.

Not five minutes later the Chief Pilot stepped on board and took their hat off. Being in the front row meant they had the perfect view.

Now she understood Blau.

She’d know that smirk anywhere.

It was Ridley.

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seravphs · 11 months

Text

beating hearts promised to bared teeth — part one: “The God Finds A Familiar”

KITSUNE! GOJO x GOD! FEM READER; KAMISAMA HAJIMEMASHITA AU

When a kind stranger offers you his home because your gambling addict of a father can’t pay rent, you’re left in charge of a shrine - with a catch. Once you arrive at your new home, you learn a crucial fact that he conveniently left out. You’re the new god in charge, and his familiar, who now belongs to you, does not like you. What’s a new god to do, especially when she finds herself slowly falling for the fox spirit?

wc — 10k

tags — enemies to lovers, shoujo manga heroine type reader, Japanese mythology/yokai, age gap (1000 year old fox and high school girl), slowburn, cameo from Sukuna, Toji, and Nanami, cameo from original Kamisama Hajimemashita cast

part two — “The God Finds A Husband” (coming soon)

shoujo series masterlist

If your stomach growls any louder, you’ll scare off the squirrels fighting over the end of a baguette loaf by the park bench you’re sitting on.

You’re currently in the middle of what others might describe as very hard times. To be honest, your very hard times have been going on for a while now - they just culminated at this specific moment. Regardless, these days are only temporary. You’ve promised yourself that one day, you’ll be able to smile from the bottom of your heart.

It’s just that it was easier said than done when you weren’t homeless. Your father has never been the most reliable of men. You had to take over the household finances by the time you were eight, so you’ve always been accustomed to his lack of responsibility, but today really solidified his status in your mind as an absolutely useless, no good man. It’s unfathomable cruelty to have left his only daughter with no money, no relatives, and no home.

You don’t want to call it cruel. For all of his faults, you still love your father. And it’s because you love him that you know this wasn’t a cruel act. Cruelty is intentional. It’s malicious. It comes from a desire to hurt. Your father has never wanted to hurt you. It’s just a byproduct of his gambling addiction. You’re collateral damage in his quest for the jackpot that would solve all his problems.

You double over in agony at the renewed complaints from your stomach. At least you’ve gone from scaring mere squirrels to scaring passersby. That’s an upgrade, right?

One woman clutches her purse closer as she walks past you as briskly as possible. You get it, you look bad.

But there’s no use being resentful. Your father has been barely one step above a deadbeat all your life. At the very least, you’re used to fending for yourself. Your stomach growls again, but you’re determined to ignore it. You need a plan of action. One step after another, you’ll make it out of these troublesome times.

Before you can start to plot, a loud cry for help catches your attention. It sounds like someone else is in even more dire straits than you are, which is saying a lot.

The squirrels have long since scattered, run off not by the scary noises coming from your famished stomach, but a pack of dogs. Somehow, a man has climbed several feet into the tree next to the trash can, and now perched precariously in its branches. Below him, curious dogs tilt their heads and give cautious barks.

“Aw, hello there, cuties,” you coo, rubbing behind their ears. They yip at you enthusiastically. One sets to chasing his own tail around the tree. They seem friendly enough, but you suppose one can’t help their phobias. A little regretfully, you chase them off.

“Go on now,” you tell the last one, leading him away. He whines, but does as you say. What a good boy.

“Thank you,” says the stranger stranded in the tree. He slides down the trunk, face slowly regaining color. “I owe you my life.”

“It was nothing!” You smile, but he won’t let you brush off your good deed.

“You’re a good kid,” he nods approvingly. “Gotta reward that. Is there anything you want?”

A home.

Not just the house you shared with your father, but somewhere warm to return to. A person who waits to see you safely inside the threshold.

But you know a stranger can’t give you that, so you shake your head and smile. “Really, it was nothing. You don’t owe me anything.”

As if he had heard your inner monologue, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “A home, hm? I might be able to help with that.”

Before you can react, he leans in and kisses your forehead. Where his lips touched your skin feels faintly warm and tingly, almost like the sensation of your leg going numb, before you recoil from him in shock.

He presses a map into your hand and tells you, “Go to this address. Tell them Yaga sent you, and you’ll be welcomed with open arms.”

With that, he runs off.

What a strange man.

Well, you’ve had a strange life, taking care of your hopeless father and all. Perhaps these things really did happen. It wasn’t so impossible for strangers to appear out of nowhere and reward you for good deeds. Maybe all the fairytales your father had read to you back when he hadn’t been so terrible were true.

Or maybe that was the wishful thinking of an optimistically delusional girl who needed somewhere to stay desperately.

The address is located on the outskirts of town. Pushing deeper into foliage and closer to forest than civilization, you find the location you had been sent to.

It’s a shrine.

A run-down shrine, of all places.

Are you on a comedy show? Should you start checking for cameras?

Against your will, you feel your eyes grow hot. That was a cruel trick to play. He had gotten your hopes up for nothing.

It’s not just your eyes. Your entire body starts to feel warm. The world around you erupts into blue flame. Heat licks at your shins as you scramble towards safety, closer to the center of the circle that has formed around you.

When the flames suddenly leap, as if they’ll consume the entire sky, you scream and drop to your knees, covering your head like it’s a bomb threat. Two childish voices ring in your head, as clear and crisp as bells.

Welcome home, Yaga-sama.

It’s a shrine. There’s only one logical conclusion.

This is a haunting.

There’s only one safe path out of the ring of fire, and it’s towards the building you’ve now concluded is the site of paranormal activity. Between being actively burned alive or facing spirits though, you know which one you’ll choose.

Your frantic fingers fumble over the latch on the shrine’s red doors as the fire inches closer and closer until you can feel its heat on your back. Finally, you throw open the doors and all but launch yourself inside. The heat recedes, but the voices do not.

“Back already, Yaga?” A male voice drawls. “I thought your pilgrimage would’ve taken longer. After leaving me to maintain the shrine by myself for sixty years -“

You shriek as an enormous, clawed hand comes down towards your face. Your eyes squeeze shut, waiting for the end.

“I’m not Yaga,” you wail, hoping it will save you.

“You have a lot of nerve?” The voice finishes, more uncertainly than before. When you deem it safe to open your eyes once more, what stands before is a young man dressed in all white. White hair and blue eyes make for a staring constraint, but his coloring isn’t what’s strange about him.

It’s his clawed hands and the equally white fox tail behind him.

“Megumi, Tsumiki,” he says authoritatively. “This isn’t Yaga.”

A shining ball of fire comes forward, speaking in the little girl’s voice you heard earlier. “That can’t be right! Look, she has the mark of the god on her forehead.”

You touch your forehead, remembering the warm tingly sensation you had felt when that man kissed you. Feeling slightly delirious, you start to laugh, only to grow alarmed when you find you can’t stop. You’re growing out of breath from your near hysterical laughing, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes.

“Oh, great,” says the fox spirit. “She’s crazy.”

“She’s the one with the mark,” the other ball of fire, Megumi, says. “That means she’s the god whether you like it or not, Gojo.”

Tsumiki darts over to you, but halfway through her journey, she goes from fire to a little child just under 2 feet tall. She’s wearing a mask and plain blue yukata.

“We have to celebrate!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “Our god has finally returned!”

Gojo looks dismissively down on you. Your laughing fit is finally starting to die down, but he doesn’t seem impressed regardless. “What god? I won’t accept a little human girl as my master. She couldn’t handle the strength of a familiar like me.”

His condescension only makes you giggle harder. You can’t help it. Something about the fluffy fox ears protruding out of his head makes it hard to take him seriously.

“What strength?” You laugh in his face. “This shrine is so dilapidated, I doubt you’re anything special.”

Gojo looks away. “If she stays, I’m leaving. I won’t serve this kind of pathetic god.”

He disappears in a cloud of white smoke before Tsumiki can finish saying, “Don’t be like that!”

The will-o-wisp children introduce themselves to you as shrine spirits who look after the building. It takes a while, but by the time they kindly show you to the room where you’ll be staying, you can distinguish Tsumiki from Megumi by the differences in the masks they never take off.

Your room is simple and threadbare. The walls are paneled bamboo and the only furnishing is an old futon. Still, you’re grateful. It’s leagues better than sleeping in the woods, which is what you started this day fearing you would have to resort to. You’ve never been the type to complain, and you won’t start now, no matter how strange your life has gotten.

Fox spirits and will-o-wisp children don’t exist. They’re the stuff of myths. Maybe you’re just seeing things because you’re tired, you muse as you drift off to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning after a nice, long rest. The events of today will feel so far away, and you’ll be able to start over.

Or maybe you’re dead already, and you’re wandering in the Netherworld. Perhaps the reason you can see spirits is because you’re currently residing in their land. Your entire body seizes up as you jolt yourself back to wakefulness.

“Kamisama,” Tsumiki has crept back into your room. “Are you alright?”

You tell her to call you by her name. Calling you god just doesn’t feel right.

Gently, she nestles down by your pillow and puts her cold little hands on your forehead. Rather than shocking to your senses, it feels pleasant. When you were a little girl and got sick, your father used to let you stay home from school. He’d pack a towel with ice cubes and place it on your overheated forehead, staying up with you all night just to chat. It’s a good memory.

“It’ll be alright,” Tsumiki tells you in her gentle voice. “You’ll see.”

For spirits that supposedly take care of the shrine, you have a suspicion that Tsumiki and Megumi are pushing their work onto you when they brief you on your chores the next morning. It turns out godhood is a lot less summoning storms and a lot more doing yard work.

Tsumiki insists that keeping the shrine pure is important for keeping evil spirits away. For some reason, that means cleaning. When you ask about calling lightning or summoning lions, Megumi laughs at you.

“That’s Getou-sama’s job,” he says. “Your specialty is marriage. Yaga was very good at tying peoples’ fates together. You will be, too.”

He has more faith than you do in that regard. When it comes to chores, however, you’re more certain of your abilities. Busy work keeps the absurdity of your situation from sinking in, and you’re good at running the household from years of dealing with your father. You’re grateful for something to do. If you think about the past day too hard, you might break down into shocked laughter and never get back up.

Besides, even if you don’t feel particularly ready to be a god, Tsumiki and Megumi are letting you stay in the shrine. You have to earn your keep. Soon, you settle into the process of cleaning, letting the methodical, rhythmic nature of your movements erase any doubts in your mind. You think of nothing but the cooling sensation of the water when you dip your rag into the bucket and the clean, woody scent of the shrine as you scrub the wood.

“Ooh,” Tsumiki says approvingly when she appears. “It looks better already! Can you do the lawn next?”

Plucking weeds is notably less soothing than cleaning. With no gloves, you’re careful to avoid hurting yourself as you tug on spiky vines and knotted twigs, but it’s no use. Eventually, you lose focus and a sharp sting graces your finger. Blood drips down your hand. You hiss in pain.

A hand with white claws instead of nails grabs your wrist. You yelp in shock as Gojo brings your finger to his mouth and laps at the blood. It stains his lips slightly red. He worries at the cut with his tongue, making your wound ache. You try to pull back, but he holds on.

To your amazement, the cut closes before your eyes. You’re just about to thank him when he ruins the moment.

“You really are useless,” he says. “You can’t even pluck grass?”

You yank your hand out of his grip as hard as you can, sending yourself tumbling back against the grass. You hate how it must make yourself seem even more human in his eyes, a weak, fragile thing.

“Give up,” he says, and it’s almost gentle, the way his claws graze your chin as he holds your face in one hand. “You’re not suited to be a god.”

You turn away, unwilling to let him see any more of your vulnerability. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Suit yourself,” he says with a noise of annoyance. “Brats who run away from home aren’t my problem.”

“I didn’t run away!” You snap, whirling on him. “My dad was the one who ran! I don’t have anywhere else to go!”

But he’s gone.

At least Megumi and Tsumiki are nice to you. Megumi takes the bucket of weeds you deposit at the front door and whisks it somewhere out of your sight, while Tsumiki prepares a nice, hot bath for you. Exhausted, you collapse onto the bamboo floor spread eagle.

God, a voice murmurs in your head.

Not again. You don’t want any more spirits to deal with. When you raise your head, instead of another yokai, there’s an old woman standing in front of the shrine. Her head is bowed and her hands are clasped in prayer.

Please bless my daughter’s marriage so that she will enjoy a long and fruitful life with her partner.

Her voice is coming from some place inside your head. It resonates like a bell, ringing crisp and clear. You stretch out your hands wonderingly. You don’t look any different.

“You see?” Tsumiki says approvingly. “You’re a god.”’

But you don’t feel like one. You feel just like a normal person.

“A god needs a familiar.” You can’t see Megumi’s face behind his mask as he speaks, but you can imagine the solemn little boy he must be. “You need to bind Gojo to you.”

“How do I do that?”

“You have to kiss him.”

You wait for them to tell you they’re joking.

“What? I can’t kiss him! Is there-”

Megumi cuts in. “It’s just the traditional way to seal the contract. Don’t think too much of it.”

The fact that neither of them are bothered makes you feel like the ridiculous one for being off put by this, but you’re sure you’re not. Still, if you’re a god now, you have to put all of your mortal sensibilities aside. It’s like another culture, you tell yourself. Like how Europeans kiss each other on the cheek to say hello. Even if you can’t convince yourself, Megumi and Tsumiki are insistent.

You were so fired up just a second ago, but now your head is filled with doubts. If such a simple matter can sway you, are you really meant to be a god after all? Maybe Gojo is right. Maybe you should just leave.

“Please,” Tsumiki says. She looks distraught. “Don’t abandon us. Please don’t leave.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but his silence is enough.

“Okay,” you say, feeling defeated. “I’ll give it a shot.”

You’ve always been good at chores. If taming Gojo is just another part of your new job, it sounds like it's time to get serious.

“Take me to him.”

Megumi and Tsumiki balk.

“Right now?”

“Why not? The sooner I get it over with, the better, right?”

“He’s...indisposed at the moment,” Tsumiki says carefully.

“Indisposed? Is he sick?”

“Not quite,” Megumi says. He’s very expressive for a spirit. You can practically imagine him grimacing.

“Then it’s fine!”

You would soon come to regret your words.

Megumi and Tsumiki lead you out of the shrine. They show you where to find the path that can lead you to the land of spirits and demons. Your entire body rebels at the feeling of being in this other world, but at the same time, you feel at home here. The god and the girl that coexist inside of you are mutually repelled by and attracted to this place.

Even though you know Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t really children, or at least children in the way mortals think of them, you’re still concerned about letting them traipse around this dangerous place. However, they seem more used to this world than you are. That energy is better devoted to fending for yourself.

They lead you under bridges where the running water smells like flowers and women’s voices hiss in the babble of the current. Tree leaves rustle with hands that disappear into darkness. You follow them through dark alleyways lined with red paper blessings, and doorsteps encircled with salt. Eyes follow you, leaving your skin crawling.

You’re so focused on keeping your head down and staying out of danger that you almost don’t notice when they stop. You nearly run Megumi over.

“He’s inside here,” Tsumiki says.

Is it just you, or does she seem nervous?

The lanterns inside this establishment are turned down to a dimness that barely illuminates the corridors. Sweet smelling smoke writhes around your feet from some unknown source as you head deeper and deeper into the maze of hallways, following the pair of shrine spirits. You pass women wearing fox masks, dressed in luxurious kimonos. Their hair towers over their head in elaborate updos, held in place with beautiful pins inlaid with chartreuse and gold.

Megumi stops before a folding screen door. Like all things within this building, it’s beautiful. The silk screen is painted with images of flowers and more gruesome scenes as well, but somehow, it’s still breath-taking. A little like Gojo, in that regard.

You hear the voices of women behind the screen, flattering Gojo. The light of a single candle illuminates the dim room, imprinting his silhouette against it, as well as that of the two women with him. They’re draped over him, hands roaming his body as they purr their compliments. Your face burns with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” Megumi demands of Gojo. “How can you parade around the red-light district like this? You’re the familiar of a god, not some common demon! If Yaga knew, it’d break his poor heart.”

Behind the screen, Gojo merely brushes him off. “Yaga’s been replaced by some little human worm. Why should I care what he thinks now?”

“What about the shrine? Don’t you care about that, at least?” Tsumiki's voice is thick with reproach.

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I do,” he says. “Ha! You know what? Maybe I should thank that girl. Now that I’m free, I can do whatever I want.”

“Gojo-“

“I’ll can indulge in every little vice Yaga never allowed me to touch before. Who would want to be a familiar when I can have all of this?”

“Gojo, our god is here.”

“What?”

He leaps up and pushes the screen aside, coming face to face with you. He looks startled to see you, though you don’t see why he should care, since he so desires to lead a life of sin.

You look upon him with disgust. You might want a familiar, but you’re not so desperate you’d stoop as low as this. Gojo cares so little for anyone but himself. If you’re going to be a god, you’re going to do it right. You’ll pick a good familiar, one who will genuinely love the shrine as much as it deserves.

You turn and leave as he, half-clothed, frantically starts pulling on the outer layers of his kimono.

“Wait,” he calls after you. “Tsumiki! Megumi! Why would you bring her here?”

“She wanted to see you,” Megumi retorts.

“This isn’t the place for a human,” he says. “She’s going to get eaten!”

The faster Gojo follows you, the faster you run from him. By the time you’re out of what you’ve come to realize is a brothel, you’re sprinting. Your legs carry you right into someone else as your face slams against a broad, muscled chest.

“Oh,” says a voice above your head. “How pretty.”

A hand caresses your face. This spirit has tattoo marks across his face and body. More interestingly, he has multiple arms.

You’re frozen in place by fear as he brings his mouth closer and closer to your face. He’s close enough to kiss, but this is a spirit, which means he’s more likely to eat you.

“Be good for me now,” he purrs in your ear. “Fear makes flesh all the sweeter.”

Three of his six arms are consumed by fire. He pushes you away from him in favor of batting out the flame.

Gojo pulls you towards him, hiding you in the folds of his billowing kimono. You press your face against his shoulder, swallowing back the tears of fear from nearly being eaten. Somehow, he feels safe, even though he’s been nothing but antagonistic towards you. He feels almost protective as he shields your body with his, securing you under one arm.

“Scram,” he tells the other demon. “She’s mine, Sukuna.”

Sukuna rolls his pairs of eyes. “You weren’t with her when I caught her. She’s fair game.”

Fox fire flickers in Gojo’s hand. His white talons seem to elongate before your eyes.

“If you want to fight over her, then by all means,” he says with a dangerous smile. “But we both know I’d win.”

“Maybe later then,” Sukuna says, lazily as if Gojo isn’t threatening him. “Once I’ve eaten my fill.”

He stalks off into the night in search of more prey.

“This is why I told you to wait,” Gojo says, running his hand over his face. “You’re practically bait in this world. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

You nod, not trusting your voice, but he catches on anyways.

“Don’t cry,” he says, his face twisted in a grimace. “I won’t know what to do if you cry. Look, this is just your life now, okay? You’ll have to get used to it.”

On impulse, you press your face into his shoulder again, still sniffling. You want to be comforted, even though you know he won’t give it to you.

“Ugh,” he says, true to form. “Quit that.”

By the time you’ve calmed down, Gojo has already escorted you back to the shrine.

“Don’t come back,” he tells you.

Of course, you can’t listen to him. On your second night in the land of the dead and monsters, not only do you have to hide from beasts who would devour you the moment they found out what you were, you also have to hide from Gojo. You’re wearing a disguise, courtesy of Tsumiki and Megumi.

In your defense, it’s not like you want to be here. You need a familiar, and it’s clearly not going to be Gojo.

According to Tsumiki, Gojo’s the strongest, but there are other familiars who would be willing to serve you. They’re all in the Netherworld, however, and you have to find them before you can contract them.

You pull the curtain of the hat shielding your face a little closer around you as you peer at the faces surrounding you, trying to gauge who looks friendly. None of them do. You’ve been wandering around for hours, but not a single spirit has stood out to you.

In the end, you don’t find him. He finds you.

“A human god?” A hand grasps your wrist loosely. “That’s rare. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be here?”

The man in front of you looks normal by any standards - but you know better than to trust your gut in the netherworld. Still, he’s the closest thing to a human you’ve seen in a while. Surrounded by a maelstrom of monsters, he feels like the eye of the storm. There’s a quiet and a calm surrounding him, even as you walk among noderabo with withered, leathery skin and scaly yajo.

It’s not like he’s in his own little pocket of the world, you realize. He is. Everyone is purposefully giving him a wide berth.

“Who are you?”

“I asked first,” he says.

“You know who I am! You just said so - I’m the human god.”

His eyes rake over you. “So you are. But what are you doing here, girl?”

You throw his words back in his face obstinately. “You first.”

“I’m Toji.” That doesn’t tell you anything, but he’s clearly unwilling to divulge more. “Your turn.”

“I’m looking for a familiar.”

“What about your familiar? I heard that Gojo-sama isn’t keen on sharing.”

Somehow, the way he says Gojo-sama sounds derisive, even with the respectful honorific.

“He doesn’t want to be my familiar.”

The rejection stings coming out of your own mouth.

“Sounds like him. Haughty bastard, he couldn’t stand to serve a human girl, could he?”

“Yeah! He’s an asshole,” you say, feeling validated.

When Toji laughs, the scar over his lip tugs one side of his mouth down. You kind of like it. And he must be strong, just looking at him. He’s well muscled and covered in scars. Of course, there’s the little matter of the reverence everyone around you is offering him. Tsumiki and Megumi had told you to just go out and find one. Could it be that easy?

“Are you interested?”

He gives you a look of barely concealed amusement. “You’re funny, girl. I don’t think Gojo would like that very much, though.”

“I don’t care what Gojo thinks.”

“Oh, here he comes now. Don’t go running too far - you’ll worry him,” he says, slow and easy. His confidence is absurd - it reminds you of Gojo, actually. He must be strong. “If you’re really serious about wanting me as a familiar, why don’t you meet me here again in three days?”

“What are you doing?” Gojo snarls at you. His teeth match the rest of his fox physique. With wonder, you realize that his pearly canines are pointed beyond what’s normal. “I told you not to come back!”

“But- He-” You turn around to point Toji out, but he’s gone.

“Who?” Gojo says.

“He was right there!”

“You’re so annoying,” Gojo bites out. “I don’t care what happens to you, but if you die, Megumi and Tsumiki will cry, so stop wandering off on your own. You’re lucky you didn’t get devoured on the spot.”

He’s starting to get really irritating. You shove his hands off.

“You know it’s actually your fault I’m here, right? If you didn’t reject me, I wouldn’t have to scour the Netherworld for a familiar.”

Gojo scoffs. “My fault? Maybe you should take a look at yourself. If you were less weak, I wouldn’t have a problem serving you!”

“That’s- You’re impossible!” You splutter. “I can’t help being weak! I was born this way! Not everyone is so lucky to be born a kitsune, oh-so-great-Gojo-sama.”

“Enough,” he sighs. Taking you by your wrist, he forcibly drags you through the streets back in the direction you came.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!”

“Gojo!” Megumi’s reproving voice breaks the argument up before it can begin again.

He lets go of you almost guiltily, if you thought he could feel guilt.

“I’ll take her home,” Megumi says.

Gojo’s tail lashes behind him angrily, but Megumi doesn’t spare him a second glance as he ushers you away.

“Thank you,” you tell him in relief. “What are you doing here?”

“You were taking a long time,” he says. “Tsumiki and I were getting worried. Did you find anyone?”

You think of Toji. “No,” you say. “No one.”

The next day, while Megumi and Tsumiki dress you for your trip through the Netherworld again, Megumi presses three slips of white paper into your hands.

“We should’ve taught you this sooner,” he says. “One of the powers of a god is to transform objects. Whatever you write on this charm will become true - within the scope of your power. Be safe.”

Armed with your paper slips, you feel like a real god. Tsumiki pushes you out the door with a prayer for good luck, though you’re not sure you can grant prayers to yourself for yourself.

Outside the door, something whines by your feet.

“Gojo?”

Or is that a regular white fox?

It snaps its teeth at you.

Definitely Gojo.

“I don’t need an escort,” you tell him, making shooing motions at him with your hands. “Go away!”

He rolls over and yips at you, his tail wagging.

“I can’t understand you like this!”

“I said,” a cloud of smoke reveals him, mostly humanoid once again, except for his ears and tail. “I don’t want to do this either. It’s for Megumi and Tsumiki.”

Toji doesn’t seem to like him, so you don’t want to risk bringing him with you. Despite your best attempts to shake him, Gojo follows you as you retrace your steps back into the spirit world. You’re just starting to despair when you spot a bigger reason to be upset.

“Hello, delicious,” Sukuna says. “Ready for round two?”

Why does he look even more terrifying? Did he get bigger?

“Leave her alone,” Gojo says, almost bored. “It’s pathetic. You can only bully things weaker than you, huh?”

“I’m not afraid to fight you,” Sukuna tells him.

You’re panicking. They both look serious. You don’t want to be caught between these two forces of nature.

“You should be,” Gojo says, and steps in front of you. Over his shoulder, he tells you, “Run. You’re in my way.”

This is the chance you were waiting for.

Toji’s dressed differently when you find him again. Last night, he was wearing a casual black kimono. Tonight, he’s dressed in a tight fitting black shirt and loose white pants.

“You look nice,” you tell him, feeling anxious. Your mind keeps going back to Gojo. You’re sure he can hold his own, but you’re still worried for him. As you are, however, you’re of no help to him. The only way you’d be able to rescue him if he actually was in danger is by making a contract with a powerful familiar.

“It’s for work,” he says. “Follow me.”

“We can’t do it here?”

“Do you want to kiss me in front of everyone?” He shrugs and reaches for you. “I mean, I’m down if you are, but I figured-”

“No,” you squeak and dart away. “Privacy is good!”

He laughs. “You’re as funny as ever, huh? C’mere.”

Toji leads you off the beaten path and further into the woods. The only thing that keeps you from feeling more nervous is the moon shining overhead, illuminating your path. It feels almost like a friend is with you.

“Here is good,” Toji says, stopping at a clearing.

“It’s so pretty,” you breathe out, dazzled. This deep into the woods, fireflies are lighting your way. Beneath your feet, a springy bed of flowers and moss covers the floor.

“What can I say? I’m a romantic.”

“Yeah, right,” you laugh at him, but you draw closer. You think you could trust him. You think you could be partners with him.

Then Toji grabs you by the shoulders and dangles you off the edge of the clearing, over a steep drop you hadn’t noticed. The sharp cut off had been hidden by flowers, danger painted over with beauty.

“Sorry, kid,” Toji says. “No hard feelings, right?”

“Why?” You whisper. Gojo had been right.

“There’s a bounty on your head,” he says. “Getou has offered to grant the wish of anyone who kills you.”

His eyes turn wistful. “I have a kid. Haven’t seen him in years. You understand, right? It’s not personal.”

The fall is brutal. The wind whips tears into your eyes, if you weren’t already crying from the fear of falling to your death. You have to do something, anything. Above your head, something white flutters.

A dove?

Then another.

It’s one of the paper ofuda Megumi had given you before you left, caught in the updraft of you rushing down to earth. You snatch it out of the air. You can’t reach the pen in your pocket. With increasing desperation, you bite down on your finger hard enough to draw blood and trace the characters for a tree branch onto it. Holding it aloft, you pray.

Between your hands, wood solidifies. You’re clinging to a scrap of a twig sprouting from the rocky cliffside. Megumi’s words echo in your head - only within the scope of your power.

So this is it, huh?

That’s all there is of your godly strength.

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Gojo says. He has no problem balancing on the sheer cliff. His appearance is impeccable, completely unscathed from his fight with Sukuna. He perches like a bird, as comfortable as if he were standing on solid ground. “Do you need help?”

Thank god. He’s here to save you! You nod, turning teary eyes on him. You were wrong about him. Gojo really is a good guy, deep down.

“If you say, ‘Please save me, Gojo-sama, I was stupid.’ I’ll help you. Throw in some crying and begging, too.”

Your eyes dry up instantly. He’s a total bastard. You clutch onto the branch tighter. There’s no way you’ll give him the satisfaction of groveling for help.

Your resolve weakens when you hear the first snap.

“Time’s ticking,” Gojo calls in a sing-song voice. “What will it be?”

The harder you hold on, the more your flimsy branch breaks.

“Come on,” Gojo says. “It’s not that hard. It’s just seven little words. Isn’t that worth your life?”

“Go fuck yourself,” you tell him, and the branch finally snaps.

Falling for the second time is just as bad as the first time. The icy wind snatches at you like claws, tearing at your clothes.

To your surprise, Gojo leaps after you. He makes free-fall look elegant - surely a far cry from whatever you’re doing.

“Just say it,” he yells, within arm’s reach. He’s so close he could snag you by the shirt and haul you to safety, but you know he won’t. Not without getting what he wants. “Would you rather die than just apologize?”

You have an answer prepared.

His eyes widen in shock when you press your palms to his cheek, pull him closer, and kiss him.

You barely have time to register the taste of him, sake and something sweet, before the reality of falling to your death rushes in again.

“Gojo, save me!”

As if his body is piloted by someone else, Gojo catches you. For him, it’s a short leap back up to the top of the clearing, where Toji has disappeared.

You climb down from his hold once you’re certain you’re safe. You never thought you’d miss the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet this much, but at the moment, you’re willing to kiss the earth.

Gojo seems much worse off. He’s frozen in shock, muttering the same refrain to himself under his breath. “Me? Bound to her? Impossible.”

“Let’s go home,” you tell him. He doesn’t seem to get it until you tug him towards the path, and then he leads the way wordlessly. .

You wake to Megumi and Tsumiki weeping over you.

“I’m alright!”

They freeze, then burst into fresh tears.

“We thought you would never wake up! Your first time using ofuda must have been too much for you,” Megumi gets out through his sobs.

You feel sore all over. You can barely recall the events of the previous night, only that you kissed-

“Finally up?”

Gojo’s tapping his foot as he waits for you to get up. He looks furious. There’s an unmistakeable tick in his jaw that spells trouble for you.

It’s too early to deal with him. You duck back under the covers.

“Oh no you don’t,” he growls out as he seizes your wrist and bodily hauls you out of your warm cocoon of blankets. “You wanted to be a god, you’re going to be a god. It’s time for some training.”

You shiver pathetically in the cold morning air. If you had known helping a stranger would lead to be harassed by a fox spirit, you would’ve never done it in the first place.

“Try harder,” Gojo says at your sixth failed attempt to turn water into wine.

“It smells alcoholic,” Megumi offers loyally.

“I am trying!” You insist.

“Harder,” Gojo snarls.

The seventh attempt doesn’t change. Gojo throws up his arms and stalks out of the shrine, declaring the need to cool his head. Tsumiki frantically trails him, not trusting him to not attempt to run away again.

Megumi tries to assure you that you’re doing well, but honestly, you need to leave too. The shrine feels too stuffy. A change of scenery will do you good. Sitting alone in the woods just behind the shrine, you try to focus. Slowly, stacks of ofuda disappear from your hands as you paste them to trees, willing them to blossom. Wilt. Do anything, anything at all.

You’re out cold when Gojo finds you.

“Divine power takes time,” he says as he prepares dinner. “Use too many talismans at once and you’ll pass out.”

You drink a spoonful of soup morosely. “How do I get stronger?”

“You’ll get stronger if you grant prayers.”

Tsumiki perks up. “One just came in!”

“I already looked at it,” Gojo says dismissively. “Not that one.”

“Everyone’s wishes deserve to be looked at,” you argue.

Gojo scoffs, “Not this one.”

“Don’t be rude! A god can’t pick and choose.”

He tosses the prayer at you.

Morimoto Rika’s request touches your heart. She’s the spirit of a nearby lake - not just any spirit, as Megumi helpfully clarifies, but another owner of a shrine. A human boy visits her waters nightly. By the light of the moonlight, she fell in love with him, but she can’t meet him because they live in two separate worlds.

And to think that you would’ve never known to help her if Gojo had continued keeping this from you.

“This sounds like the perfect job for me,” you argue.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Yokai can’t fall in love with humans.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Aren’t you bound to do as I say? Take me to her.”

Against his will, Gojo summons what’s called a ‘night fog coach’. Only operable at night, as the name suggests, it’s a tall black carriage truly made for a god. You’re just wondering how Gojo expects you to climb aboard when he effortlessly lifts you by the waist.

“You’re the one who wanted to go meet her,” he sneers. “Chop-chop.”

Your supplicant looks like a fish if it were a girl. She has pale green skin and large, black eyes, with overly large teeth for her mouth. Black hair frames a heart shaped face. She’s cute, in her own monstrous way. And she’s desperately in love with a human boy.

Gojo helps you transform her into a human body and make her over into a normal teenage girl. For a prayer granted, it feels like nothing more than dressing your friend up for a date.

You’re even as nosy as you would be in that situation. It’s the first prayer you’ve ever granted. You know you shouldn’t, but you and Gojo watch the burgeoning romance from a distance. Of course, he’s completely disapproving, but you have high hopes for them - until Rika pulls out a ring.

Aren’t they moving a little too fast?

It only gets worse when Rika confesses that she’s been stalking him - sort of. Keeping tabs on him for his safety by following him around town is a little too close to the other, for your liking. Your head drops into your hands.

But Yuta takes it surprisingly well. A little too well, in fact. It only seems to infatuate him even more. You knew there were certain types of men out there who loved crazy, but you had never seen it in real life - until now.

Could this even be counted as a success?

You’re happy for Rika and Yuta, as happy as you can be for their twisted little union, but you’re just waiting for Gojo to bite your head off for bringing a (real) monster and a human together as soon as you get back home. At least they’re happy, you think ruefully. Worse things could happen. Your first union as a marriage god didn’t fail. In fact, of all people, Yuta seemed the most likely in the world to accept Rika as she was, human or not.

To your surprise, returning to the shrine, Gojo begrudgingly says, “You did well.”

Any warm feelings you have for him the next day are replaced when he barges into your room and demands you strip.

“You have guests,” he says. “Messengers from Toji-sama, the god of the wind.”

Your eyes grow wide. You hadn’t known Toji was a god. Come to think of it, did Gojo even know the reason why you had been falling from that cliff? You weren’t sure if he had come in time to see who had pushed you.

“What are you worried about? I’ll be at your side the whole time.”

You’ll tell him later. Right now, you have a serious matter to prepare for.

You tried not to discriminate on the basis of his master, but it’s not that at all. Toji’s familiar, Naoya, is simply annoying on his own terms.

“So you’re the new god of this ramshackle little shrine,” he sniffs. “God, it’s disgusting. How poor are you?”

“You must be the thirteenth familiar Toji’s owned. He goes through you like toys, doesn’t he? Of course you wouldn’t know that he used to live in worse conditions before. Deplorable.” Gojo laughs in his face.

Naoya grits his teeth. “I’m surprised your little human dared to show her face. I thought she’d be terrified after what Toji did to her. They’re such weak little things.”

Gojo looks at the other demon with a calm that worries you. As human as he is, there are moments when you can catch the monster lurking within. He’s like the sea, deceptively calm until you remember the threat of an unseen riptide.

“If you insult my master again,” he says carefully, enunciating every word like he’s stabbing at them with a knife, “I will take your head and deliver it to your master as a present.”

“Don’t tell me you’re happy to be serving a mortal girl,” Naoya laughs. “Not someone like you, Satoru. How the mighty have fallen.”

Gojo looks at him for a long moment, then he ignores him completely and walks to your side. The most painful part of Naoya’s digs at you is knowing he’s right. Gojo doesn’t like this. How could he? He went from being the strongest to being commanded by some powerless girl. Still, Gojo gazes at you with his inscrutable eyes. You can’t read him at all.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees next to you.

With a gentleness you can hardly bear, he lays his head in your lap, as gentle and docile as a puppy. His neck is bared as if for an executioner’s axe, the delicate pulse of his heart open to you. He closes his eyes. His breath is shallow. He stays there, and says no more.

“Oh, Satoru,” Naoya says in delight. “You really have become a tamed thing.”

With an uncertainty you’re trying to hide, you lift your hands to Gojo’s head. His hair is sinfully soft. You’re almost scared he’ll try to take your hands off for it, but when you start to gently pet his hair, he almost purrs. His eyes close, half-lidded in pleasure.

“I serve who I want to serve,” Gojo says. His tail lashes behind him. “Who are you to tell me my master is unworthy?”

Naoya shrugs, clearly disbelieving. “Sure, Satoru. Keep telling yourself that. I’m just here to deliver a gift.”

He tosses you a package wrapped carefully in beautiful, ornate wrapping paper. You’re sure it’s not Toji’s doing. He’s not the type.

As soon as he leaves, Gojo pushes himself away from you. It leaves you a little sorrowful, the speed with which he tries to get away. He only did it for your sake, you know. He wanted to protect your honor in front of Naoya because you’re his master. But it must have disgusted him, to get on his knees for a human, if he recoiled so fast.

“What did he mean, what Toji did to you?” Gojo asks over dinner.

You know instantly that you’ll only draw his ire if you try to play dumb.

“Toji pushed me off that cliff the day you found me.”

Gojo’s eyes darken. The next time Naoya returns, he promises you, he’d set his tail on fire. No one besmirches his master’s honor like that.

It’s about honor, of course. You’d be a fool to think otherwise.

Alone in your chambers, you unwrap the package Naoya gave you. It’s an incense burner, beautiful and silver. As apology presents go, it’s a decent one. You set it aside for use at a later time.

Naoya’s visit only makes Gojo’s training worse, but these days, you’ve grown used to him and his harsh words. The more that he yells at you for being weak, the more you can brush it off as Gojo just being Gojo. That only irritates him more, of course.

But nothing pisses him off as much as you claiming that you’re returning to school. Gojo thinks that you have no need for school as a god. There’s nothing the humans can teach you that he can’t.

In your eyes, Gojo is a kitsune. That means he’ll never understand a teenage girl’s heart. School isn’t about learning, it’s about the experience! You’ll never be in high school again - there are so many things you still haven’t experienced, like school trips. You only have one youth - you have to seize it in the moment!

Gojo isn’t convinced.

Like an overbearing parent, he nags you all day and night until finally, you strike a deal. He’ll let you go to school, but only as long as you cover up the god-mark on your head. Gojo is never one to make things easy for you. The hat he bestows you with is an ugly grandma print with faux fox ears. You’ll be the laughingstock of the school!

“It’s dangerous,” he says. “Who knows what wild beasts will be lurking about?”

“You’re the wild beast,” you say. “I can’t wear that!”

“I guess you can’t go to school then,” he sighs. “What a pity.”

It’s all for show, of course. You know what he’s really like. There’s no use in arguing - either you agree to his compromise or you stay here, stuck in the temple for the rest of your life. You’ll miss out on all the joys of youth, never growing old in your cloistered shrine. The thought is unbearable.

You snatch the hat from him in indignation. Putting it on before you leave the next day makes you cringe, but as long as you avoid mirrors, you can almost forget that it’s there - if not for your classmates staring at you. You can feel their judging eyes everywhere you go, and the whispers.

You can’t even say you don’t care - you do care. You only have one high school life, and Gojo is ruining it. During lunch, you escape into the bathroom to mope and avoid all of your classmates.

“Are you getting bullied?” Gojo’s voice is too bright and cheery for your dark mood right now. You can’t promise to remain calm if he stays here.

“This is the girl’s bathroom, Gojo.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m just worried about my master,” he says. “Well? How is it? Do you want to go home now?”

He’s lying. You know he’s not worried about you at all, but you should be used to it. You don’t know why it stings as much as it does.

You’re hurt even though you know this is just how Gojo is. Of course he’d be happy to see you miserable - he hadn’t even wanted you for a god in the first place. He’s bound to you by obligation, and nothing more. You had known from the start that he didn’t care about you, so why does it hurt that he won’t comfort you? It’s just like those nights in the demon world that seem so long ago now. He hasn’t changed at all.

Gojo isn’t as shocked by your outburst as he is by the tears slowly welling up in your eyes. He stands stunned as you rush out of him and back into the hallway.

Tsumiki appears next to him out of thin air, completely unimpressed.

“You did a terrible job on that one, Gojo.”

As if in a daze, he lifts his hand, where the crystal of one teardrop shines. He’d tried to reach for you at the last moment, but you were already gone. “I made her cry...”

Megumi appears next to Tsumiki, his face red. “What’s taking so long? Hurry up and leave! We’re in the girl’s bathroom!”

“Gojo was bullying our master,” Tsumiki announces.

“I wasn’t bullying her!”

“He made her cry.”

Gojo winces. “Okay, yeah. I did do that.”

Megumi kicks him in the leg, which amounts to almost nothing. “Take responsibility, then!”

When you return home, Gojo is waiting by the shrine door with an almost offensively polite smile on his face. “Let me take your coat, master.”

Him being kind gives you the creeps. You can’t help but feel like he’s planning something, especially when he shows you the lavish dinner he prepared for you with all of your favorites.

“What’s with the look?” He says, annoyed at your accusing eyes peering at him over your bowl. “I do something nice for you and this is how you treat me?”

“This is really just for me? No ulterior motives?”

“None,” he promises.

The smile that breaks over your face is like the sun through rain clouds - sudden, dramatic, and almost painfully bright after a period of gray skies.

“Thanks, Gojo!”

The look in his eyes is unreadable as he reaches to spoon more food onto your plate.

You don’t have anyone else in this world. Besides the shrine spirits, Gojo might be the only person in the world who will take care of you. For some reason, the thought doesn’t sting as much as it did this morning.

The second day of school starts with pouring rain, as if it’s a direct reaction to your foul mood earlier. Gojo pulls you back when you try to leave.

“It’s a bad omen,” he says. “Stay home with me today. I’ll worry about you if you go.”

Normally, such sweet words might bring a blush to your face, but you can read between the lines.

Stay home with me today so I can keep you out of trouble, you brat.

I’ll worry about you if you go because you’re weaker than a worm.

“Stop trying to keep me from going to school! I thought we got over this yesterday,” you huff. “I’m going to be late for the bus!”

You leave Gojo with a handful of air as you dart under his outstretched arm and out the door.

In school, all your classmates are listless.

You’ve never been so unhappy to not be the subject of attention. What is wrong with everyone? Even the teacher doesn’t reprimand anyone for sleeping in class, half-asleep herself. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to be caught in this spell of drowsiness, which insinuates paranormal origins.

As you’re sweeping the classroom after class, one of your classmates lets out a disgruntled noise.

“It’s a snake,” she says, not at all with the intonation of someone who’s just discovered a snake. Ami’s the type to go apoplectic at the sight of a fly, much less an actual snake, so you don’t pay much mind until you hear Kurama go, “Huh, she wasn’t kidding.”

There’s a little yellow snake in the classroom. In their stupor, none of your classmates seem to care all that much about it. They just continue going about their chores. You feel bad for it. It’s such a small, fragile little creature. In their state, they might accidentally end up crushing it.

With gentle murmurs of encouragement, you coax it into your hand. It’s surprisingly docile and twines itself readily around your wrist before you set it outside the window to be set free.

Gojo doesn’t praise you for your act of heroism on the behalf of his fellow yokai, as you remind him. You saved his compatriots! Where’s the gratitude?

He calls you a stupid little girl. “I don’t care about them, I care about you!”

Your face warms with embarrassment against your will even though you know he doesn’t mean it like that. Time and time again, Gojo has stressed that he will never see yokai and humans as even remotely on the same playing field, much less capable of being romantic partners.

“You’re my master,” he says. There’s your call back to reality. “Look at this mark on your wrist.”

It appears like a normal bruise to you, though you’re not sure how it could’ve happened. Your new snake friend was very gentle when he was coiled around your wrist. He must have been someone’s escaped pet. You hope he found his way back home.

Gojo’s mad. He’s enunciating every word.

“This is exactly why I have to keep such a close eye on you. That’s no ordinary bruise. That is an engagement mark. Care to explain to me how I left you alone for one second and you got yourself engaged to a divine beast?”

Your face pales. “Excuse me?”

“That snake is going to come and claim you as his bride.”

“As a bride?” Your head spins and you have to sit down. You’re too young to get married. You look up at Gojo, teary-eyed. You don’t want this.

“Stop making that face,” he snaps, pushing a hand over your face to hide it. “As if I would let that happen. The master of the Yaga shrine, my master, could never be wed to a mere snake.”

If Gojo says he won’t let it happen, you can put your faith in him. You breathe a little easier. As mean as he can be, Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t lying when they called him the best familiar. He’s the strongest and most capable person or rather, yokai, that you know. There’s not a single task you set for him that he hasn’t been able to complete.

It’s still raining when you go outside to practice your talisman making.

You find the weather quite pleasant, even though it’s a little damp. The chill in the air cuts through the muggy feeling of summer, and the raindrops cool your cheeks. When you turn your face up to the sky, you can taste ozone in the little drops that pelt your face.

“You’re very beautiful, kamisama,” says a voice.

There's a man waiting just outside the red gates. A supplicant? In this weather? You better get him inside in a hurry. You dash over to him.

“What are you doing? Come inside, you’ll get wet!”

Just as you reach him, he lifts his face. He looks like a statue, with high cheekbones, and solemn eyes. His hair is the same pale yellow as the snake you saw earlier that day-

“Gojo!”

But it’s too late.

The snake has a hold on your wrist, right above the engagement mark. He takes you away.

One moment, you’re standing in your own backyard, the next, you’re surrounded by almost-familiar bamboo walls. It looks like your shrine but for little distinguishing touches. That makes you uncomfortable.

“This is Haibara shrine,” the snake says. “I’m Nanami, the familiar of Haibara-sama. I’ve taken you away to marry you.”

There’s a curtain over the center of the room. Haibara presumably rests behind it, but something strikes you as off about the whole scenario. That’s not what’s foremost on your mind, however.

“I don’t want to marry you! You kidnapped me!”

He tilts his head at you. “I couldn’t have kidnapped you. We’re engaged, you see?” He traces the mark on your wrist with one slim finger. “We’re going to be very happy together.”

“You’re being creepy,” you push him away.

At your rejection, something dark crosses over his features - not danger, but pain. He has some nerve feeling upset when you’re the one who should be upset here!

“That’s alright,” he says, trying to stroke your hair. You won’t let him touch you. “I know it can take some getting used to. Here, let me show you to your room.”

Nanami has clearly put a lot of thought into decorating for you. It’s beautifully furnished, with rich silk sheets and the fragrant smell of plum blossoms permeating the air. Here, there’s not a single thing you could want but-

Gojo.

You miss Gojo and you miss your shrine.

When Nanami leaves you in your room, it feels like a tomb in the silence. You bury your face in your expensive, hateful sheets and try to resist the urge to sob. You want Gojo to come get you. You want to go home.

Hours pass, but Gojo doesn’t come.

Nothing but the sound of your breathing changes, passing from frantic to deeper, slower, steadier. As your head clears, you notice the window. It’s a beautifully ornate design, a red knot of luck. The center is just big enough for a girl to squeeze through, if you try hard.

Resolve grips you.

You’re not going to wait for Gojo to rescue you. You’re going to get out of here yourself, find him, and scold him for not coming to get you earlier. Aren’t you his most beloved master, as he so professes? You’re going to make him kneel for at least three hours practicing his apologies!

Filled with renewed conviction, you hoist yourself onto the window sill and begin the tedious task of shimmying yourself out. Just when you’re nearly there, the sharp edge of the metal scrapes your shin, leaving a long, thin cut.

The smell of salt replaces the plums immediately.

“God?” Comes Nanami’s voice. “I smell blood. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You panic. If he discovers your escape attempt now, he might try to put you in a more secure room, and then you’ll really never see Gojo again.

The adjacent wall caves in.

Gojo stands in the rubble, seething, each hand wreathed in blue flame. He doesn’t even notice you, his attention wholly focused on Nanami. “You drew her blood? Are you prepared to face the consequences of hurting my master, snake?”

You grab his arm just before he attacks. “He didn’t! I hurt myself on the window- oof!”

Gojo’s so much bigger than you are. When he folds you into his arms, his entire body surrounds you. His chin tucks itself over your head, his large arms wrap around your body. You’ve never felt more secure than you are here, now. “I thought you’d be crying.”

His voice is hoarse.

You’ve never heard that before.

“You came,” you whimper, burying your face into his shoulder.

Nanami’s face is crestfallen. “Are you going to leave me?”

You grab Gojo’s arm and duck into the other room, where Haibara’s curtain is.

“Don’t!” Nanami cries.

When you pull it back, there’s nothing but an old, dusty kimono.

You were right.

This place is godless.

“You’re no familiar,” Gojo snarls, turning on Nanami. “Don’t even think to call yourself that. The difference between you and me is as clear as day, you vile beast. You’ll pay for your insolence with the loss of your shrine.”

Nanami’s misery is written all over his face. You’ve realized what’s wrong with this shrine. It’s too quiet, as if no one has prayed here for generations. Haibara has been dead for a long, long time.

Nanami must have been lonely.

“Don’t,” you tell Gojo.

He stares at you, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?”

You tug yourself out of Gojo’s arms. Nanami’s crouched on the ground, trying to shield Haibara’s old kimono from Gojo’s foxfire. You kneel to his level.

“I’m sorry you’ve been lonely for all this time, Nanami. I can’t stay with you, but if you come to my shrine, we can play again.”

Nanami weeps and reaches for your hand. The mark of the snake dissolves.

Gojo doesn’t talk to you on the way back to the shrine.

“Don’t be mad,” you say, tugging on the sleeves of his kimono. He gives you a deadpan stare. “Come on! I only did it because-”

You can’t finish your sentence.

Of course, that piques Gojo’s interest. He can never resist bullying you.

“Because? Go on,” he goads you.

You say it so quietly he can’t hear you, even with his fox ears. He spins around, grabs you by the waist, and hoists you up so you’re face to face. You yelp and scramble to grab onto his shoulders for balance.

“Louder,” he demands. “I can’t hear you.”

“I was thinking about what would happen if I died and you were all alone again. I couldn’t leave him alone because I was thinking of you,” you tell him. Thinking of Gojo watching after an empty shrine all alone like Mizuki makes your heart ache for reasons you can’t explain.

He stiffens. “What a strange thing to worry about. I wouldn’t care.”

“Ugh,” you smack him in the shoulder. You shouldn't have tried to be kind to him.

He doesn’t put you down, shifting you into an easier hold. “You’re hurt,” he admonishes when you try to squirm.

Just before you enter the shrine gates, he has a confession of his own to make. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You got hurt because I wasn’t protecting you.”

You rub his ears, an indulgence you’re not sure he would’ve allowed if he wasn’t in such a mood. “It’s not your fault!”

“I’ve never had a human master,” he says. “I have to be careful not to break you. You’re so easily hurt.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” you say, and then the shrine spirits are there to welcome you home.

You hadn’t realized you thought of the shrine as home until today.

Even though Nanami’s mood isn’t affecting the weather anymore, it’s still raining. Gojo tells you not to mind the weather, even though you’re certain that it’s not from natural causes, which means it is your job. Ever since you came back from Haibara’s shrine, Gojo has been extra protective of you.

You hadn’t thought Gojo had needed to be protected too, not until the thunder god came.

The god of storms and lightning is called Getou Suguru. He carries a mallet in one hand that can transform whoever it touches into their younger forms, and he used to be Gojo’s best and only friend. He’s also the one who called a bounty on your head.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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imagination-mess · 5 months

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Reality Show: Pro Heroes Wives (Shinso Hitoshi Edition)

Reality Show Masterlist (All Editions)

There is a reality show where pro-heroes' wives are on television and paid to be there. It is filled with juicy gossip and pure drama. There are few wives in this second season who were kept out of the spotlight, which adds mystery and creates theories about who they were married to.

The same winners who were in the group that couldn’t be identified are back this season as a surprise challenge. Unlike last season, it wasn’t revealed at the very beginning of this reason which Pro Heroes wives would be featured.

There are only a few left without being matched, which were mostly underground heroes who people don’t typically pay attention to. Half of the cast already knew each other because their spouses had interacted on more than one occasion and were disqualified from participating in the weekend challenge of the show for those spouses. The others who did not know their spouses had to identify them, but the others couldn’t spill anything that would clue who their spouse was.

You, however, were making headlines and trending throughout social media for your wicked punch, knocking out Pro Hero [Blank] with a sharp uppercut punch after receiving a punch from them.

It was unexpected for the fans of the show to see another side of you since you always kept close to your friends and did the bare minimum to stay within the competition. You were barely involved in other people’s business. You are mostly found in the background, watching the drama unfold in front of your eyes.

The Pro Hero [Blank] had punched you in the face because you were ripping her apart from your words alone, causing her to have an emotional reaction. You were brutal with your words. It was also oblivious that you were purposely riling her up with the way you were openly mocking her. With a wicked grin, you intimidated her when the hero was trying to rip you apart while dodging her next attacks.

She was talking shit about your husband and claiming he shouldn’t even have licenses to be a pro-hero. She claims to have known him since middle school, and he will always remain a freak. Despite his being in the top 20, which was completely unintentional on his part,

Her friends that she made during her time on the show eventually join in attacking you verbally to only get their own medicine, taking them apart by their insecurities and such. It was clear her friends were ganging up on you while your friends were gone.

You were ripping them apart and letting it all out because you have seen over and over how these people have to make side comments and belittle the other spouses in the house, including your friends. It was just her comment on Shinsou that threw you over the edge.

Who would have known the way to trigger you was by badmouthing your husband?

You ripped the Pro Hero [Blank] a new one and got punched as a result, but it was oblivious that you wanted it to happen. You purposely provoked her even more and unintentionally knocked them out on live television because they were trying to play dirty by attacking from behind. It was out of reflex because of the years of training you have. Your body just reacted.

People do what they do best: search on the web to find out who you are. You aren’t as popular as the Pro Hero to only find out you are worth way more than the hero. You also have a history of being the bully toward other bullies throughout middle and high school. You were an absolute menace in your younger years. Your former classmates coming to the internet to tell stories about you include those who were with you in martial arts and boxing clubs.

There were thirst traps and edits created by fans circling the internet. The fans of the show couldn’t tell if it was a loyal friend's or spouse's reaction based on the stories circling the media.

At home, the hero couldn’t help the smile that climbed up his lips. You didn’t even know, but that specific hero is someone he would never forget since they spread rumors about him in his earlier years of being in school. Those rumors stuck with him up until middle school.

Karma is a bitch.

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beyondthesefourwalls · 11 months

Text

Home (Is Wherever I'm With You)

Summary: You aren’t supposed to be in California for another week, but managed to tie up all your loose ends and arrive early. You get some unwanted attention when you try to surprise your husband at his favorite bar, and after he comes to your rescue, Bradley shows you just how much he missed you right there in the Hard Deck bathroom.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: unwanted flirting and advancements from men, language, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 3.7K

Notes: In Part 7 of RYEWID, Bradley remembers how he and Pumpkin have hooked up in the Hard Deck bathroom before. Here’s the first time that happened.

Part of The Forgotten Moments collection I have going for them, though this can be read completely independently and still make sense.

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You weren’t supposed to be in California for another week. The Navy hadn’t given Bradley much time at all before he was to report for permanent assignment at Top Gun. He had helped you as much as he could, but packing up and arranging for all of your belongings to be shipped across the country fell mostly on you. You didn’t mind; you had more loose ends to tie up than he did, anyway. But what you thought would take three weeks you managed to get done in two, and instead of telling your husband you’d be arriving early, you decided to surprise him. You weren’t quite sure how you managed to pull it off, but you did.

It was a Friday evening and you knew he’d be coming to the Hard Deck. Nat was the only one in on your plans and had confirmed when you texted her earlier after your flight landed. You were nearly buzzing with excitement. You had only been married for four months, and between the deployment he was on prior to being called back to Top Gun and the mission that resulted in a permanent station here, you had barely seen each other for half of it. You couldn’t wait to be back in his arms.

You sipped on your beer, perched on a stool at one of the high top tables near the bar that had a good view of the front door, but was far enough away that he wouldn’t spot you right away if he looked in this direction. You were so focused on looking for your husband that you failed to notice the man approaching until he was standing right in front of you, effectively blocking your view of the door. You startled slightly at the sudden appearance.

He was tall, blonde, and perhaps a little too pretty. He had a smirk on his face that you were sure was meant to be dazzling. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing sitting by herself?”

There was a hint of a southern drawl in his voice that you were sure charmed women on a daily basis, but only made you raise your eyebrows. “Enjoying my drink.”

“All alone?” he asked, “I bet it would taste better with someone here to keep you company.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the line, but you shook your head and held up your left hand without a word. Your rings sparkled from their spot snug on your finger.

“Damn,” he sighed, his smirk falling slightly but never leaving. He put his hands up in mock surrender. “You can’t blame me for trying, right?”

“Thank you, I think?” you laughed.

“Definitely a compliment.”

The blonde stranger winked at you, but to his credit, he didn’t push it any further. He bid you a good night and made his way over to the bar, presumingly ordering himself a drink. You watched him converse with another guy there for a moment, who cast a look at you, but you didn’t pay it any mind as your eyes turned back to the door. In the short time you had been distracted a large crowd had come in and you scanned the room for Bradley again. You bit your lip when you couldn’t find him anywhere, deflating slightly. You were so, so ready to see him.

You were reaching for your phone to text a simple “where are you guys?” to Natasha when you were interrupted again. This time it’s from the darker haired man who the blonde from earlier had talked to at the bar. You glanced over quickly to see him shaking his head as he walked back toward the crowded pool tables.

“Hi,” the newcomer said with a bright smile, leaning against the small round table. The stool you were sitting on had you just about even with his height.

“Hello,” you responded, trying your best to be polite. “Didn’t your friend tell you I’m married?”

He looked momentarily surprised by your bluntness but recovered quickly, laughing lightly. “He did. But I see a ring, not a husband. Thought it might be worth shooting my shot anyway.”

“No,” you said with a forced smile, “it’s not. I’m actually waiting here for him, so.”

To your annoyance, he didn’t seem the slightest bit dettered. “Well how about I keep you company while you wait? My name is Neil.”

“I’m good on my own, actually. He should be here any minute.”

“Come on. At least give me your name.” He goes so far as to set his hand over yours on the table. You pulled it back quickly, feeling yourself getting angry at his persistence. You opened your mouth to tell him off, no longer interested in being polite, when you caught a flash of Hawaiian print in your peripheral vision. You gasped in surprised delight at the sight of your husband. You scrambled off the chair, pushing past the unwelcome suitor without a second thought as you raced to close the short remaining distance between the two of you.

“Bradley!”

You launched yourself into his arms and he caught you easily, holding you tightly against him. You relished the feeling of being in his embrace again, laughing happily into his neck when he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. You only pulled back far enough to press your lips against his. He kissed you back eagerly, setting you down so he could cup your cheek with one hand, the other still firmly on your lower back, pressing your body into his.

“Pumpkin,” he rasped, “what are you doing here, sweetheart?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine, even as you beamed against his lips. “I wanted to surprise you.”

He hums, kissing you again. He tastes just the same and you chase it, wanting to refamiliarize yourself with it all over again. His body is warm against yours and the anxiety you had felt the last few weeks finally settled inside you.

“I missed you,” he murmured, nudging your nose with his and causing another giggle to escape.

“I missed you too, baby.”

You were grinning broadly when you pulled away, and Bradley was too, until his eyes strayed behind you. You watched them narrow and he stood a little straighter, his hand falling from your face. You looked over your shoulder; you had completely forgotten about the man standing by your table. He was still there, looking gobsmacked as he stared at your husband.

You resisted the urge to comment on how you had told him he would be there any minute. Instead you looked back up at Bradley. He had an intense look on his face, one you had only seen a few times before. Despite yourself, you shivered lightly.

“You trying to hit on my wife, Omaha?”

Your eyebrows raised at the name. It wasn’t as familiar to you as others, but it was one you had heard before nonetheless. Another Top Gun graduate who had been called back and then restationed.

“I…didn’t know she was your wife,” he stuttered.

“But you knew she was married.”

The other aviator looked a little panicked now, his eyes widening even further. “Rooster, I swear, if I would have known-“

“It doesn’t matter whose wife she is. If she tells you she’s married or not interested, you take that as your cue to leave.”

Omaha looked like he was contemplating saying something, but instead, he gave a single nod. He met your eyes briefly, offering a quick apology under his breath. You felt Bradley’s grip on you tighten when he walked around you, even if he made a point to not get close.

You looked up at him when Omaha was gone. His jaw ticked in annoyance, but when you settled a hand over his heart and murmured his name, you could feel how his body relaxed. He met your eyes again. He opened his mouth, you were sure to apologize for something he had no reason to be sorry for, so you cut him off with another kiss. The last of the tension left him and he wrapped both arms around you.

You stand there with him for a long moment, kissing and enjoying his body against yours. You never felt as good as you did when you were with him, especially when you were in his arms.

When you finally pulled away, you were both a little breathless, but the soft smile that was always just for you was back on his face.

“Come on,” he said, “let me introduce you to everyone.”

“That sounds great,” you said back, grabbing your abandoned purse and drink from where you had left them at your table. You raised up on your toes and pressed another kiss to his cheek. You speak directly into his ear, enjoying the tremor that went through him this time. “The quicker you introduce me, the quicker you can take me to bed.”

You smacked his ass playfully as you skipped ahead of him. You laughed when you heard his exaggerated groan. He caught up with you quickly, grabbing your hand in his. He leaned down to whisper, “Since when do we need a bed, Pumpkin?”

You gasped and he smirked, tugging you forward to the group who had been eyeing you curiously.

Phoenix is the first to greet you, wrapping you in a quick hug. You hadn’t seen her in over a month, and you were so glad you would have her here permanently, too. He introduced you to everyone gathered around the pool table, and it’s nice finally putting names to faces. When you get to the last person, you can’t help but snort at the familiar face.

“I think you already met Hangman,” Bradley introduced him with a roll of his eyes. The man in question didn’t look the least bit ashamed, smirking as he held out his hand to you. Instead of shaking it like everyone else had done, he brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles. You laughed at the sheer audacity he had, but you could tell he was harmless. From what you know of him from the stories you’ve heard lately, it was purely a move to get under your husband’s skin. You heard the man in question let out an annoyed huff and knew it was working, too.

“Pleasure to formally meet you. If I would have known Rooster was the bird in question who put that ring on your finger, I would have introduced myself sooner.”

“Instead you came over here and complained about the bombshell at the bar being married,” your husband muttered, pulling you tighter into his side.

“Got your attention that someone else didn’t care about that little fact though, didn’t I?” Hangman quipped back. Bradley rolled his eyes again, but tipped the beer he had been handed in his direction anyway. You giggled at the interaction, prompting him to look down at you. You stood on your toes to kiss his mouth before turning back to the group with a smile.

“So,” you said, “who has good stories about my husband that he’d never tell me himself?”

Bradley groaned as the others laughed, and it wasn’t long before you were drawn into conversation with the people you knew he considered his friends, whether he’d admit it or not. You already felt more comfortable with them than you had any of the coworkers of his that you had met in DC, which made some of your nerves dissipate. As you were regaled with story after story, some more embarrassing than others, Bradley was a constant presence at your back. You relished being able to lean back into his chest after weeks of not being able to do so. His hands settled on your hips, toying with the waistband of your skirt. It was one of his favorites and you had put it on with that in mind.

You spent close to an hour swapping stories and getting to know everyone. They seemed genuinely interested in you as well, not just because of your status of “Rooster’s wife”, but of who you were on your own. You had been nervous about moving to San Diego, though you hadn’t hesitated for a second the minute he brought it up to you; being around all of these people already had you feeling more confident.

So, of course, did the man behind you.

Bradley hadn’t strayed from you since he had first laid eyes on you that night. You felt a thrill knowing that he missed you as much as you had missed him. His love and dedication would never be something you would get tired of. Titling your head back once Javy and Bob wandered over to join the game of pool happening, leaving you and Bradley as alone as you had been that night, you smiled up at him. His lips quirked into that soft smile that you adored and when you pucker your lips, he was capturing them with his in an instant.

“I missed you,” you whispered, fingers toying with the buttons on his open shirt.

“I missed you,” Bradley returned easily. His fingertips dipped under the waistband of your skirt for the faintest moments and you shivered. You simply stared at one another for several long moments, saying so much without saying anything at all. You felt heat spreading through your body the longer your eyes remained locked and when you drew your bottom lip between your teeth, Bradley groaned lowly before leaning down and pressing a featherlight kiss against your cheek.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered in your ear. Goosebumps broke out all over your skin because you knew what those words meant when he had that look in his eye and the electricity between you was sparking like it was now.

“Yes,” you breathed, no hesitation in your decision. With a quick look to make sure his friends were all still distracted, he was taking your hand and leading you away and toward the other side of the bar. You could see the sign for the bathroom hanging overhead and your heart started to race even faster.

You stumbled into the single stall restroom, hands already at his belt. Bradley pressed you up against the door as soon as he locked it, rucking your skirt up and his mouth against yours.

“Fucking so glad you’re here,” he mumbled into the kiss. “God, Pumpkin.”

You gasped out his name as he trailed kisses to your neck, sucking at the skin harshly. You fumbled with the button and zip of his jeans, fighting to keep focused on getting them undone as Bradley pressed down on your clit through your underwear. You knew he could feel how wet you were for him; the material had to be soaked through by now. His hips thrusted forward at their own accord when you finally freed him from the confines of the denim that had been keeping him from you. He moaned into your neck as you stroked him.

Bradley spun the two of you away from the door and hoisted you up onto the counter by the sink. Your skirt was pushed up above your waist and he nearly ripped your panties in his haste to get them off of you. You barely felt the cool breeze of the bar’s AC hit your exposed pussy before he was pulling you to the very edge of the counter and rubbing his hard cock through your folds, coating himself. You steadied yourself with a hand behind you as the other fisted into the curls at the back of his head.

“I need you inside of me,” you moaned. “Please, baby. Please, please, please.”

“So desperate for me,” he rasped. He didn’t give you a chance to confirm or deny before he was sliding into you. He muffled your scream of pleasure with a hand over your mouth. His dark eyes were trained on yours and you gave a jerky nod to his silent question. He pulled out of you almost completely before roughly thrusting back in. You moaned against his palm. He repeated the sequence twice more before he let his hand fall. The bar was loud outside the locked bathroom and he was trusting you not to draw attention that would give the two of you away, even though anyone who saw you coming back here had to know what was happening.

“Gonna be quick,” he warned, voice deeper than it had been all night. You felt a whole new wave of arousal flood through you at the tone and clenched around him.

“I don’t care,” you assured, whimpering when he slammed back into you again. “Take me, Bradley.”

He growled out your name, and with a firm grip on your hips, truly started fucking you.

He drove into you over and over again and the sound of your wet pussy sucking him in was echoing throughout the small bathroom. Your body shook with every thrust and from your position on the edge of the counter, you couldn’t do much more than sit there and let him have his way with you.

“Feel so good,” he grunted, “always so damn good.”

The vein in his neck was throbbing below his skin. You couldn’t resist leaning forward and licking it. His hips jerked at the sensation and you cried out as he hit that spot inside of you that had you tightening your grip in his hair.

“Bradley!”

“Touch yourself for me, baby. Come on.”

You knew he wouldn’t let you fall, so with the hand that had been braced on the counter, you fumbled past the bunched material of your skirt to get to your pussy. Your fingers brushed over him as he thrusted into you and you nearly cried at how good it felt.

You rubbed quick, rough circles into your clit as your orgasm rapidly approached. It didn’t take long for you to get there. Between the feel of him inside of you and the dirty words he was whispering into your ear, you broke. This time, Bradley swallowed your scream by pressing his mouth against yours. It was a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation. You arched your back, a desperate attempt to bring him even closer.

It only took a handful more powerful thrusts before Bradley’s own release was triggered. His hips slammed flush against yours and he grunted into your mouth. His cock twitched deliciously inside of you as his cum painted your walls and filled you up. You clenched around him to try and milk as much of it as you could.

You broke the kiss when breathing became an issue. Both of you were panting as he laid his forehead against yours. Your chests heaved as you caught your breaths.

You couldn’t allow yourselves too much time in the afterglow, mindful of the fact you were in a locked bar bathroom, so after too short of a moment, Bradley kissed your forehead and slowly withdrew from you. You instantly felt so empty, even with his cum still inside of you. You were both quiet as he pulled paper towels from the dispenser and gently cleaned you up. Your panties were on the bathroom floor and you scrunched your nose at the thought of putting them back on. Bradley scooped them up, stuffing them in his pocket before you could even voice your distaste.

You should have known he would have done that regardless.

He gripped your hips once again to lift you off of the counter and onto your feet. Your skirt fell back into place, albeit more wrinkled than it was before you entered the bathroom. You couldn’t bring yourself to care too much.

You let your arms come up to wrap around his neck as his settled on your lower back.

“I was planning on taking my time with you when you got here, to show how much I missed you,” he said. You chuckled lightly.

“Who says you can’t still do that later?”

Bradley’s groan was playful and full of affection. “How about we get on that now? I think we’ve stayed long enough.”

“Baby,” you laughed, squealing quietly when he purposefully rubbed his mustache against your cheek.

“C’mon, Pumpk. Let me take you home,” he begged.

“Don’t you mean the temporary lodgings the US Navy is providing us until we close on a house?”

“Semantics,” he whispered before pecking your lips once, and then twice. You hummed against your lips, smiling happily. It didn’t matter if you were in base housing, a hotel room, or even the backseat of the Bronco. Anywhere with Bradley felt like home to you.

“One more drink,” you conceded, holding up a finger for emphasis. “Then I’m all yours.”

“Deal,” he said immediately, sealing it with one more kiss. He made sure both of your clothing was back in order before he laced his fingers with yours and unlocked the bathroom door. The two of you were still laughing together, but it cut off abruptly once he opened it. Jake and Nat were both leaning against the wall across from the door, arms folded over their chests and eyebrows raised.

“So,” Jake drawled out, “is it the honeymoon phase, or can we expect this all the time?”

Nat snickered quietly as a blush crept its way up Bradley’s neck. He fumbled for a response, but you cleared your throat, giving the two of them an easy smile. “Only time will tell, I suppose.”

Nat’s snicker turned into a full on laugh, and Jake looked at you impressed before letting out a chuckle himself as the two of them walked back down the hallway toward the noise of the bar. You followed behind them at a slower pace. When Bradley squeezed your hand and pressed a kiss into your hair, you looked up at him. His eyes twinkled and he had that soft, soft smile on his face again.

“I love you, Pumpkin. I’m so happy you’re here.”

“I love you, too, Bradley. I’m so happy to be home.”

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End Notes: I hope you enjoyed it, and would love to hear your feedback. Likes/comments/reblogs mean the world and are so encouraging💚

Special thanks to @mak-32 for spurring the idea and for her and @roosterforme for everything, as always.

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