#and the second book’s plot just keeps hitting me in waves and it’s SO INTERESTING | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sukirichi · 3 years

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jujutsu kaisen characters as students in high school: (non-canon AU)

featuring: itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, getou suguru, & ryoumen sukuna notes: some parts include you as their friend, or even their high school love! (this is unedited/ not proofread)

masterlist ! requests are open

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

he’s not the brightest bulb, but he makes up for it through hardwork and enthusiasm

yuuji is literally that classmate everyone is just friends with

the type who waves with a smile, saying “good morning!” the moment he walks through that door

with that being said, since he’s everyone’s friend, i headcannon that yuuji doesn’t really have a best friend because he’s so open and available to everyone it’s hard to have just a one on one conversation with him

not to say he’s always surrounded by a crowd that you can’t get near him, but everyone likes talking to yuuji

he just fits in so well and understands people

kind of like how he easily clicked with junpei (please, i miss him, i still can’t believe that he’s...you know...)

whether it’s the guys raving to him about sports

or girls shyly talking about their crush on class or about that new shojo manga

yuuji is open to anything and everyone. this boy wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s honestly such a precious boy, please be kind to him <3

the type of student that gets called to answer in class but isn’t shy to admit he doesn’t know the answer while rubbing the back of his neck

he does pay attention tho

i think it’s canon that yuuji is a dedicated man, like from that time he just watched movies straight and kept his cursed energy controlled so the cursed corpse would stop hitting him

overall, yuuji is a very hard working student!

he wouldn’t get over the top grades, but he’s really proud of himself (and he should be!)

also that one kid in class that is surprisingly good in sports despite his lanky figure and laid back persona, because all the other sports-craved people are always flexing or challenging other captains

but plot twist, this boy is ripped and very, beautifully kept in trim

yeah he’s not really into club activities that much

not because he hates them, but he’s just not that into it. he’s more than glad to join in whatever activities though and enjoys them, but if asked what he’d like to do, it wouldn’t be that first thing that came to mind

in conclusion: itadori yuuji is the class sunflower that lights up everyone’s day 🌻

yuuji’s role: the hard worker!

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

hands down, megumi is THAT student

if you’re volunteering in the library, you can sure as hell guarantee you’ll see megumi there

he doesn’t like studying in class because it’s too noisy, so if he’s in school, you’ll always see his name in the library logs

he’s that kid that aces all exams

the type to scowl when he sees a 96% mark because he’s expecting a perfect mark

okay before you come at me, i’m not saying megumi is that annoying smart kid in class that goes, “Oh, I’m so dumb, just a 96?”

no he’s more frustrated at himself because he knows he studied hard and lost sleep over it. he’s just wondering where he went wrong. he has literal note cards and customize flash cards on an app on his phone, waking up every four am and probably taking supplement classes after regular school hours

i headcannon that megumi is someone who always wants to do his best and actually goes through lengths to prove his worth

maybe it stems from having the need to show who he really is and what he’s capable of

but yeah i can totally see him doing that

also that cute student that keeps visiting the cafe every saturday morning, wearing a black hoodie and headphones tucked in, his pretty hands nestling over a book

he looks like a gamer but honestly i don’t think he’s got time for that lmao

would also be that guy people find hard to approach because of his quiet and reserved self

he’s pretty intimidating too

definitely sits beside the window at the back of the class. you can’t fight me on that

just because he’s smart and loves studying, it doesn’t mean he’ll sit on the front row and raise his hand every damn second

the teachers will encourage him to participate in class a little bit more, especially after seeing he’s awkward during group activities, but megumi just really prefers to do things by himself

i also headcannon him eating in the cafeteria like everyone else instead of having his alone time during a rooftop? like idk i can’t picture megumi completely isolating himself like that

he blends in well in a way that you know he’s just like everyone else; a human

but he also stands out in the manner that he’s a lot more introverted and reserved compared to everyone else

surprisingly good during sports and relay games

100% reliable

the type to stay up at midnight to finish a group project, sighing because his groupmates doesn’t care as much as he does, but turns it in anyway the next day

he’d be annoyed at them, but he doesn’t really like confrontation so he doesn’t out them to the teacher like that

but he’s also not someone who lets people walk over him, so he’ll simply say something about his groupmates becoming more responsible and to be serious for once as a “warning”

and yeah, he may be closed off, but once you get really close with him (even better if you have similar interests) you’ll find there’s a lot more to him than what you’ve originally seen and he’s actually a pretty great friend and supportive classmate

would teach you instead of just letting you copy his work or snap pictures of his notes

ugh he’s so responsible and morally right and that’s so attractive help

in conclusion: fushiguro megumi is the hidden gem 💎

megumi’s role: the intellectual outsider!

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

man...i don’t know how to start this

i’ve said this about megumi, but gojo is also that student

no, in fact, he’s THE student

everyone loves him. literally everyone

the teachers? smitten

his classmates? in love

the school guard? calls him by his first name

the cleaning lady? turns into a star with the way she lightens up when he’s there

the cafeteria staff? yeah free food because he’s gojo satoru

gojo is what i like to call the “one who has it all” because....well, he kind of does

he’s really smart and talented, which comes as a surprise to everyone in the first day of school when he nearly gets kicked out for falling asleep in class

only for everyone to be shocked that he knows the answer already and the teacher is only discussing chapter 1 lmao

yeah he’d be that kid who always sleeps in class

or is playing games on his phone behind an open textbook

he literally doesn’t listen to what the teacher is saying at all - or at least that’s what he wants you to think

man is a god at multitasking and his seatmate would snicker because he’s crushing his enemies at a phone game, but then gojo coolly corrects the teacher about history or something

he’s pretty laid back tbh

but when he’s got everyone’s attention on him? ofc he’d show off

basketball meats are wild. even students from neighbouring schools would visit just to see gojo play - and he’s not even an official member! the coach just asked him to replace a sick player but boy won that champion shot

omg BASKETBALL PLAYER GOJO I CAN’T

but he pretty much excels at everything

except cooking class, gosh, don’t ever bring this man anywhere near a fire. that’s probably the only thing that really got him to detention this time because he always somehow talks himself out of getting that red card with his words and charm

also that kid that would receive lots of confession letters, chocolates, and random gifts in his shoe lockers

he knows he’s handsome and he’s not shy about it. in fact, he’s shameless when it comes to his allure on people

but he also doesn’t really date anyone (it’s canon this man won’t stay loyal to a single woman lmao)

if he and megumi were classmates, they’d be sort of rivals

megumi would always come on top of class, but gojo is just a breath away from the former’s perfect marks. if it only weren’t for megumi’s squeaky clean record and reputation - whereas satoru’s is TAINTED as heck - and the fact that gojo doesn’t really study as much as gumi, then yeah he’d also be top of the class if he wanted to

on a much more serious note,,,gojo acts like nothing really bothers him and he’s simply that effortless

but i feel like he grew up with tutors from a very young age and that’s how his natural intelligence was just further improved and increased with that type of environment in his childhood

and unlike megumi, i don’t think gojo would really have a set goal in mind on who he wants to be or what he wants to do in the future

he’d just be enjoying the moment <3

in conclusion: gojo satoru is the effortless god!

satoru’s role: the lazy king everyone is envious of

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

the playboy

you can’t argue with me on this one

he just is, i feel it deep in my SOUL he just is

moment he walks in, all classy and suave aura and all, you can honestly smell and taste the amount of confidence that drips from him

probably came from a well-off family

probably the mayor’s kid lmao and he’s been used to the attention ever since he was young

much like megumi, he’s not really the type to show off his intelligence

and similar to gojo, people are surprised he’s actually got them brain cells just because everyone is more focused on his appearance first

like who would expect this tall hunk beautiful beast of a man with long hair and piercings actually liked classic novels and could effortlessly recite sonatas and poems in different languages

yeah i headcannon that getou is an intellectual, cultured man

ofc having long hair and piercings isn’t allowed in his school, but because he’s geto and the school knows about his family’s influence, they just let it slide

probably comes late to school too

he eats in the cafeteria, but you don’t really see him indulge much. some days, he’ll have his own fancy bento box prepared by a family chef, but geto is actually pretty simple and humble that he also buys packed bread or canned coffee

takes the library volunteer by surprise when he drops by one friday after class to borrow an old classic novel that even your professors had a hard time analysing

but geto’s like, “oh this? yeah i last read it when i was thirteen, thought i’d read it again”

IDK WHY but I can see him as sort of breaking the rules when it comes to the school uniform

top three buttons of his shirt open when he’s feeling hot or something

doesn’t really keep his tie that tight too

but overall, geto is a composed and well-put together guy

i just can’t picture him slacking when it comes to his appearance, he’s too fancy and pretty for that

he’s also similar to megumi in a way people find it hard to approach them, but most definitely, geto also receives confessions often

i can see him dating someone after being interested in someone in school and actually being serious with them unlike gojo

then they would be “that” couple that’re just so couple goals

not the type that goes overboard with pda and pulls off the angry face emoji when they hear someone talking about them and they’re like, “NO HE’S MINE”

okay that’s cringe but i legit witnessed that way too many times in high school yall cant blame me lmao

but they’d be more like the chill laid back couple that supports each other in everything and you can just tell they have a happy, healthy relationship

(oh to be getou’s girlfriend in high school and his first love and all his firsts)

in conclusion: getou suguru is the unpredictable!

getou’s role is: that one classmate you really admire but he’s so far out your league but he’s genuinely a good guy anyway so you’re happy for him no matter what <3

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

okay okay hear me out but...the stoner

i really can’t see him any other way guyssss

and if you’re his classmate, you most likely wouldn’t see him that much either

dude is like 2-3 years older than everyone in class and he doesn’t give a shit about it

he’ll come like...once a week, if he’s in the mood enough

teachers don’t even bother scolding him for his tattoos anymore because there’s rumours going around he’s the son of a yakuza leader or that he’s a gangster who sells organs or some creepy dark stuff

ofc he doesn’t do that

he just does drugs and gets drunk at most

sukuna doesn’t really have that much friends either. yeah he parties with people and often gets high with some older kids, but he doesn’t genuinely enjoy their companies either

would totally come to school with his uniform unironed

red-eyed from his high and naps at the back of the class, making the teacher soften their voice in fear of waking him up

also doesn’t have a pen or paper

i mean...he doesn’t even bring a bag

fails the exams all the time, making him repeat year by year, and he’s even known for beating his senpai up for something stupid and sending the guy to a hospital where he stays for two weeks

but on the other hand

he’s also freakishly attractive and surprisingly easy to talk to

you probably bumped into him one time and you profusely apologize, but then he notices something about, something odd like, “did you just cut your hair?”

“uhm yes...you noticed?”

sukuna shrugs lazily, “noticed something was different, but whatever. it looks good on you though.”

he’s just soooo nonchalant most of the time, it’s hard to believe he’s actually pretty violent

but yeah this man has anger issues i’m sorry

but with that speaking, i actually don’t see sukuna as a bully with like a gang of his “followers” or that type of jazz

he’s more like the kid that hides under the bleachers or gets high in a storage room while everyone else is occupied with school festivals

it’s a shock he even came, but sukuna just says “free food is always a gift” but ofc it’s not free food...he just steals from the stalls

now here comes the fun part

so now that we know sukuna pretty much is a hopeless case...suddenly, he isn’t? maybe he meets you, the class volunteer who goes out of their way to visit his shabby apartment just to hand him his class work that he’s missed out on

he obviously disses you at first and ignores you, telling you to get lost

but somehow your kindness and persistence has him breaking

now he starts coming to school often, carrying a pack of gum or mint pops because he smells like weed and he’s slightly conscious of himself

this is supposed to be just them being students in high school, but i could honestly sukuna changing colors once he just gets a better grasp of what would be good for him

or maybe something finally interests him and gives answers to his silent questions

i feel like he’s such a troubled kid and just lacks proper care and attention, but once you become his friend and show him you don’t have bad intentions, he’s actually a loyal and decent guy

and when you two finally get close, you eventually gain enough courage to tutor him. sukuna is actually pretty smart too, he just doesn’t like studying, but when you compliment him, oh man, he melts

“yeah, you actually got that right! i told you you could do this!”

tsk,” he scoffs, “that’s all kindergarten shit.”

“if it is, then why haven’t you graduated?”

“shut the fuck up.”

although he sneers, you and sukuna have gotten close enough that you know both of you don’t mean anything bad behind those words and it’s all light hearted teasing

oh and when you ask him to take a picture with you for “high school memories?”

sukuna is disgusted

“get that thing away from my face - did you just take my photo?”

“yeah, you look pretty cute here! i’m so printing this and putting this in my album.”

sukuna is about to scold you even more, but the thought of you putting your photo together - even when he’s frowning in the picture - in something as sentimental as a photo book really has him softening up

would even try - keyword is try - to study more just so you’d stop frowning when you see his paper covered in red marks all over again

and he’d even try cutting down on his weed for the sake of his “health”

ofc he won’t suddenly - or ever, even - become the amazing student megumi is

he’ll still get into trouble because he’s impulsive and has poor coping skills, also he’s not good with words or dealing with his emotions

but on his good days, he’s a pretty funny guy

it just takes a lot to see that side of him, but it’s worth the time and patience

also i was expecting to write funny scenarios or imagines of stoner! sukuna because he’s too high to even hold a proper conversation sometimes but all i got is him saying weird words like “snail trap” or something when you ask him how his day is

would also have that garbled little laugh when he’s so out of it

sukuna will try to be better though, you just need to be patient him

but my GOSH when he finally graduates

he’s going to hide that little smile because deep down, he’s also pretty proud of himself and how far he’s come <3

lol now this makes me want to writer a high school au lololol

in conclusion: yeah he’s the stoner with a good heart

which is so not canon...this shouldn’t even be a headcanon we know ryoumen sukuna is PURE EVIL but oh well maybe when I’m down from my sukuna high I’ll write him a lot more canonically

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

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A Reading: Part 8 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Witch Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: mentions of death/blood/violence, witchcraft,

Word Count: 2.8k

Another plot chapter babes :)

You'd followed him into the house, shutting the door behind you. There was a weird sense of deja-vu that set over you as you walked through it. You saw books everywhere, plants hanging off the walls, taxidermy lining the shelves, and you thought you even heard the jingle of a bell before the sound of scurrying feet. It reminded you of your own little caravan, except bigger. He led you into a kitchen, and there, sitting at the table reading a book and drinking tea, was an older woman.

If you couldn't tell by the simple sight of her, the fact that the spoon was stirring by itself was a dead giveaway that she was the witch. She looked up from her book, and the spoon stopped. You froze when her eyes landed on you. She felt familiar, but you couldn't place it. You expected something, some sort of burst of energy that your crystal would block. But nothing came. Instead, she smiled and motioned to the chair at her right side. It pulled out by itself, and she said,

"Hello, dear. Sit. I believe we have some things to discuss." And you could already feel your anxiety growing. She had telekinesis, like you did. It wasn't a rare talent in a witch, but it was one that usually gave you an advantage. It seemed, for now, you'd have to surrender the idea of having any advantages over the older woman. The man had taken the chair opposite of you, and you sat down slowly. "Tea?" She asked, and you politely nodded. You watched as the teapot and two cups floated over. One was placed in front of the old man, and one in front of you. The tea was poured into both cups from the same teapot, so the idea of her poisoning you was quickly discarded. A small bowl of sugar, a small pitcher of milk, and two spoons floated over as well. She let you make your tea as you liked, with the old man taking it black. You, keeping your wits about, did the same. You stared between the two of them, before you said,

"Um," You didn't know where to begin. You knew that she knew of you, but you hadn't expected her to expect you. It took you a moment to think about the situation, thinking if anything had been done on purpose. Maybe she just had a vision, you thought. Either way, you thought it was as good of a way to start as any. "How did you know I was coming?" You asked, and she smiled around her cup before she placed it back on the table.

"Figured you were a smart girl." She said, gesturing to the paper in your hands. "Any witch worth her salt knows to check." She finished, and you gave her a small smile. So, she'd called me on purpose, you thought. Interesting. It seems it might've been a test, but you weren't going to ask that much. Instead, your eyes flicked to the man across from you. He didn't seem to be like the pair of you, or to be supernatural at all. While it wasn't forbidden to do magic in front of regular people, it wasn't entirely encouraged. "Oh, this is Mr. Emerson. The grandfather of the boys your vampires are trying to turn." And you couldn't stop yourself from gulping. Oh, this was awkward. Despite that introduction, the man in front of you still seemed warm. The older woman seemed to realize then that she hadn't introduced herself. "Oh, dear, and I'm Mrs. Johnson." She finished, and you stuttered as you gave her your name.

"They're- they're not my vampires. I met them a couple of days ago and-" But she was raising a hand. Silencing you. The second she did, it hit you. Why you thought she felt familiar. You remembered your dream, the night before. The not-dream. The astral projection. The poppets, candles, sigils. Everything. if you hadn't remembered, you would've thought to be irked. You clamped your mouth shut as she said,

"I know, dear. You were just passing through, right? Well, you caught their attention and you- Well, you changed things. Made them a little more complicated." She said, stirring her tea with her hand this time. You could guess how she meant. While witches usually left eachothers territory alone, it wasn't encouraged to hurt one another. Killing another witch? Highly frowned upon. Not only was it bad luck, but witches were a dying race anyways. You expected her to continue, but Mr. Emerson did instead,

"I've been friends with Mrs. Johnson for a very long time. She's helped me with all kinds of hunts." You froze at the words, but Grandpa quickly shook his hands. "Vampire hunts. Retired a few years back." He specified, before continuing. His smile made you relax, and you sipped the tea just after he did. "You see, you happened to come to Santa Carla at a very bad time." Hell, did you already know that. Really, you were starting to think that you should've gone just a town up the map. Grandpa folded his hands, leaning forward. "I'd be able to spot a vampire blind-folded in the dark, so imagine my surprise when my grandson comes home a half." He said, gesturing with one hand. You nodded. You could imagine his distress. "Now, obviously, we can't have him turning. We already know who the head is and we just need to draw him out. Then, we can kill him and everything will be done." He said, holding out his hands and smiling like it was a foolproof plan. With the protection on his grandsons, maybe it was. It explained why the boys hadn't slaughtered them. A couple of teens, a couple of halves, and a retired hunter? Sure, they had the numbers, but it would've been sheer dumb luck if there was no outside interference. You looked between the two of them.

"So, what do you want from me?" You asked. You guessed they wouldn't have brought you here for nothing. And, since they hadn't tried to kill you yet, you thought they were going to ask you to do whatever it was first. Mr. Emerson looked at you, at Mrs. Johnson, and then back as he let out a small laugh. Mrs. Johnson was pressing her lips together, suppressing a smile.

"Well, plain and simple? We want you to back off. Your protections are leveling out the playing field, so to say, and we can't have that." Mr. Emerson said, and you frowned then. So, they were calling for a cease fire. At least, from you. They noticed your silence, and Mr. Emerson quickly jumped back in to fill it. "Now, we know you really had nothing to do with this. You just got into town, and you probably haven't even met my grandson. They may have employed you, but you're not at fault." He said, waving his hands towards you. "No harm will come to you. From us or them. Mrs. Johnson will make sure of that." You glanced at Mrs. Johnson, and she gave you a nod. They must've guessed that you'd had your hands tied. Originally, you had. "And once the head is dead? Well, you can pack up and be on your way." He finished, and you were silent for another moment. Your eyes left them and went to the cup of tea in front of you.

It was a good offer. A really good offer. Step back and do nothing? And get protection, freedom, and the ability to leave Santa Carla in return? Hell of a good deal. Still, you didn't jump on it like they expected you to. You didn't jump on it like you expected yourself to. You thought of the boys, of their deaths. They'd die just to draw out the head, you thought. It wasn't fair. For all four of them to die just for that. You hadn't seen their deaths, but, looking into the cup, you practically could. It wouldn't be pleasant for any of them. They'd all probably go down kicking and screaming. Screaming for you to come save them. You gulped, looking away from the tea to glance between the two elders.

"No." You said. It was definitive and sounded more sure than you felt. You hadn't known the boys for long, but that didn't mean you wouldn't keep your word. You weren't going to back on what you'd told Dwayne. You remembered the relief you'd seen on his face, the same relief you'd seen on Markos. You remembered Paul's smile, and David's words. Even if he was as cuddly as a cactus at the best of times, he didn't want you dead. You decided to let that mean more than it probably did.

"Dear, you don't know what you're-" Mrs. Johnson had reached for your hand, laid her warm fingers on top of your own. You pulled your hand back. They felt too warm, like they were going to scorch your skin. You'd grown too used to the feeling of cold flesh. There was a threat edging her voice, but one that made you harden. You were tired. Tired of being scared and of people assuming that you were incapable of protecting yourself. Defending yourself. It was true that you were petrified, that you didn't really know how to get yourself out of this situation. You weren't the boys, you weren't David. Truthfully, you thought it should be him in your place. But it wasn't. That didn't mean you couldn't act like him. Couldn't think like him.

You went over what they'd already told you in the seconds the words left her mouth. Mr. Emerson had said you'd levelled out the playing field. Really, you'd taken away the Emerson's advantage. If either side had a witch, then the outcome was obviously in the boys' favor. Not to mention, she said you'd changed things. You thought about how she'd blocked you from being able to do your readings, from being able to glance into the future. Maybe...

"Kill me and my spells become permanent. That's what a smart witch would do, right?" You interrupted, and tilted your head at Mrs. Johnson. "Making the playing field even, like you said." You gestured to the man across from you. You looked down at your cup. It was easier to be confident when you were looking at your own reflection. You thought of how David talked, how he acted. Like he was one step ahead and like he owned the room. You needed more of a power shift, so you continued. "My friends might not be with me, but if I'm not at the end of the street by sunrise, they go to their sire. Even playing field and five vampires. Sounds like a problem." You paused, sipping your tea. You looked up. Neither of them seemed pleased, and Mrs. Johnson went as far as narrowing her eyes. You didn't know if she could read minds, but, if she did, she'd see that you weren't bluffing. Neither of them spoke. You had them in a corner, and they'd hoped you wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, you had. "Now, I'm not a vampire expert, but I'm guessing the territory situation isn't that different from a witch's. So, best case scenario, this coven dies and...what?" You said, looking between them. Again, you were met with more silence. And it was exhilarating. They looked between eachother. It was clear they hadn't thought that far ahead. They were just trying to keep Michael from turning. "New coven moves in? Big hot spot, Santa Carla. Attracts lots of tourists. Will probably attract a lot of rival covens too." Now, you knew you weren't heeding David's warning. It was clear they were getting tired of your yapping, but you knew, on some level, the boys might've been impressed. Especially David.

"What are you getting at?" Mr. Emerson snipped, and you had to suppress a smirk. You shook your head.

"A retired hunter, a couple of hunter wannabes, and a witch." You held up a finger for each thing you listed off. "The first thing the new covens will do is try to clean house, and you and your family won't last the summer." You said flatly.

It was true. You'd read it in your ancestors journal. Vampires only respected other vampires, and you were sure there'd be plenty trying to stake a claim on a spot like Santa Carla. Tourists, its crime rate, and general reputation? It was a dream come true. And if they killed the last coven, their names would be on missing posters before the Emerson's could even celebrate. The only thing preventing that was the current coven holding onto the territory.

Grandpa shook his head, letting out a laugh. He shook a finger at you, but Mrs. Johnson didn't seem to think you were funny. She was thinking your words over, trying to find a way to make you wrong. Some of the words your ancestor had written rang in your head. They'd written that, with vampires, it was best to avoid. And, if you couldn't avoid, to appease. All other routes hardly went the way they'd hope. You took another sip of your tea.

"So, what do you suggest?" Mrs. Johnson said. It seemed to pain her to ask the question. You tilted your head before you put the tea down. That was a good question, but there was only one thing you really wanted.

"Leave the boys alone." You started. It was the only thing you'd promised, and the only thing you really desired. You wanted the boys to live, and you wanted them to live up to their part of the deal. Even if you knew you should head out of Santa Carla the second you weren't needed.

Still, you weren't going to be unfair and you knew you needed to give them something in return. There was only one thing you really could give them.

"And I'll convince them to let you kill Max."

***

That was a feat that was going to be easier said than done. You stood on the street corner, replaying the conversation over and over in your mind. It had gone well all things considered. You'd bought the boys time, and you promised the Emerson's, and Mrs. Johnson, something that they wanted. Kill Max and Michael is human once again. You'd talked about what would happen afterwards, and you'd made it clear that the boys would inherit his territory. They'd avoid them, and vice versa. They had no reason to betray you, as the only good course of action was the one you'd detailed. You let out a breath. So, why were you so nervous?

You tried to empty your mind. Make it so they had to hear it come out of your mouth instead from the unfiltered thoughts inside your head.

"For someone trying not to think, your thoughts are pretty loud." A voice said behind you, and you jumped. You turned, staring into the face of the bleached blonde. His eyes seemed half amused, and you watched as a slight smirk came onto his face before he reached inside his coat. You had placed a hand over your chest, before you let out a breath. You tried your best, but his words didn't give you any hope that you'd succeed. So, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

"It went okay. I-I met Grandpa Emerson." You said, and you watched as he blinked in surprise. You were just supposed to meet the witch, but it was clear how they'd manage to employ her to help them then. He cursed under his breath. It was obvious they hadn't realized he was going to be a threat, and you quickly tried to keep his mood up with good news. "I got them to agree to let you live." You said, and David paused at that. A half-scoff left his lips as he lit his cigarette. The flick of his flame, the leather of his gloves. You wondered if he'd have the same effect on you if he wasn't a vampire. You wondered if he'd been just the same when he was human. Still, you could practically see the thoughts in his head. That it wasn't really their decision if they lived or not.

"How's that?" He asked, and you didn't miss his tone. He was half-serious, half playing at arrogance. Still, you answered his question just the same. The words were hard to get out, and you wished it wasn't just David that you had to say them to.

"I said you'd give them Max." You waited with bated breath. You expected a flash of anger, just like the flick of his lighter. Cruel words, icy eyes, and perhaps even the same violence you'd seen the first night. Instead, he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth and asked,

"Is that it?"

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys x reader

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angelsfalling16 · 3 years

Text

Sometimes All I Think About Is You

Part of the 20 First Kisses Series

Summary: Baz loses a bet with Dev and Niall and has to wear a uniform skirt for a week, and it makes Simon act so crazy. He can’t handle that much of Baz's legs, and he's determined to prove that Baz is using it as a distraction from whatever he's plotting.

Word Count: 3068

A/N: This was based on this prompt that was sent to @carryonprompts. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for a few days since I saw it, and I finally got the chance to sit down and write it today. (And of course, it fit perfectly as a 20fk fic :))

The title is from the song "Heat Waves" by Glass Animals

Read it on ao3

***

Simon

There’s a blast of magic, and the doors to the dining hall slam open.

This is a pretty regular occurrence, and everyone is pretty used to it by now, which means that I am one of the few people who look up to see who it is.

Baz walks in through the doors, sneering at Dev and Niall who follow him in. The two of them look like they’re about to burst into laughter at any moment while Baz has a near-murderous look on his face. (It’s an expression I know well.)

I’m not sure why the three of them look like that until my eyes fall down to Baz’s outfit for the day.

“What the hell?” I gasp.

“What did Baz do this time?” Penny asks in a bored tone, not even bothering to look up from

“Look,” I whisper.

She turns, and I use the moment to take in what Baz is wearing. He’s wearing his usual Watford blazer, but rather than his neatly pressed slacks, he has chosen to pair it with the pleated grey skirt that is usually reserved for the girls who choose to wear them.

Somehow, he manages not to look completely ridiculous. I would almost venture to say that he looks good in it. (Of course he does, the bastard. He doesn’t look bad in anything.)

His legs seem to stretch for miles beneath the too-short skirt that barely hits him mid-thigh, and I can’t seem to stop staring at them.

I’ve seen Baz’s legs before, of course. I mean he wears shorts all the time when he’s playing football, but this is different. I’m not supposed to be able to see his legs right now, so it feels wrong in a way. Yet, I can’t seem to look away.

“Hm. Interesting fashion choice,” Penny says, turning back to her breakfast. “I guess there aren’t any rules against the boys wearing skirts since they’re technically still in dress code.”

“Yeah, but it’s weird.”

“How?”

“I—. I don’t kn-know.” I shrug. I guess it’s just different than what I’m used to. But different isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was just a shock to see him dressed like that. “I guess it’s not. It’s just surprising.”

My eyes follow Baz around the room as he grabs some food and sits down at his table, snickers following him as he walks. From Dev and Niall. No one else seems to really care how Baz decided to dress today.

I try to pretend not to care either, turning back to my own food, but I can’t stop my gaze from wandering over to Baz.

***

I can’t keep my eyes off of Baz the rest of the day either, no matter how hard I try. There’s just something about the way he looks in that skirt that has my eyes glued to him, and it takes my full attention to try to figure it out.

Finally, as I stumble through the lesson in our final class of the day, I figure it out.

Baz is plotting something, and he’s wearing the skirt to throw me off his trail. He wants me focused on what he’s wearing instead of whatever it is that he’s planning. It almost worked, too. I haven’t been able to think about much except that skirt.

I mentally shake myself, feeling foolish. I almost let Baz trick me. If he had managed to keep me distracted, he could have gotten away with whatever he wanted.

Now, I absolutely cannot take my eyes off of him. I have to follow him and figure out his nefarious plan.

***

I follow Baz around for the next several days, and he keeps wearing that skirt, trying to distract me. But I won't let him get away with it. I will figure out what he’s up to and stop him.

Currently, it’s Friday afternoon, and I haven’t stopped watching since the moment he walked into the dining hall for tea. (Without blasting the doors open this time.)

“I know he’s up to something,” I murmur, more to myself than to Penny, but she responds anyway.

“Simon, I mean this in the kindest way possible, but you’re being an idiot.”

“What?” I ask, so shocked that I tear my eyes off of Baz in order to look at her.

“Did you ever stop to consider that maybe he just likes wearing a skirt and that’s why he’s doing it?”

I consider this possibility briefly and silently acknowledge that she has a point, but, “It can’t be that simple. There has to be something more to it.”

“Why?” She asks, sounding exasperated.

“Because it’s Baz. He is always planning something. He’s just trying to distract me,” I explain to her for the third time in just as many days.

She sighs, like she’s giving up on me. “Fine. But consider this: your obsession with Baz’s skirt has nothing to do with the fact that he might be plotting something.”

“What do you mean? What else would it have to do with?”

She shakes her head. “Only you can answer that, and I think it will be better if you figure it out on your own.”

I frown, confused. I don’t have any idea what Penny is on about. The only reason I’m watching Baz so much is to stop his wicked plots.

...Right?

I look over to his table, but he’s gone. He must have left while I was talking to Penny, which means he’s on his way to football practice and is probably changing into his football shorts at this moment.

There’s a weird pang in my chest, almost like disappointment, but I know that can’t be right. Why would I be disappointed by Baz taking off the skirt?

I wouldn’t. What Penny said is just messing with my head.

I quickly finish my tea and scones and rush out the doors to follow Baz. I can’t let him out of my sight.

Baz

I cannot wait until this dare is over. I’m not sure that I can handle another minute of Simon’s watchful gaze following me everywhere I go. It has gotten worse this week, and I swear I’m going to suffocate under the weight of all of his attention.

Everyone else in the school got over me wearing this skirt after the first day – or rather, the first hour, but Simon seems to be getting more interested in it with every second that passes. I don’t understand why he cares so much. It’s just a skirt.

Luckily, there are only a couple more hours left of this ridiculous dare.

Dev and Niall agreed to let me change out of the skirt during football practice only if I immediately put it back on and wore it all the way through dinner and until I went up to my room for the night. (I can’t even begin to imagine what Coach Mac would have said if I had shown up to practice in a skirt.)

I already got enough attention from the skirt the first time I wore it. Everyone’s eyes were on me as I walked around the school in it. No one dared say a word to me about it, though. Probably because they knew that I wouldn’t hesitate to blast them away with just a few words and flick of my wand.

Now, as I head to the library after dinner, I tug at the skirt self-consciously, glad that I only have to wear this until after dinner. I can’t believe that I actually agreed to this bet. Or that I lost. Or that Dev just had this skirt lying around in his wardrobe.

“No questions,” he said as he handed it to me. I raised my eyebrows at him but said nothing.

I had to spell the skirt to fit me, but it wasn’t too far off from my own size. The only thing I didn’t change was the length. Most girls wear their skirts longer, but if I’m going to go through with this dare, I’m keeping the skirt exactly how Dev had it. I won’t lie, I’m curious as to where Dev might have gotten it, but I respect his privacy enough not to bother him about it.

I wish I could say the same for everyone else.

I’d probably be staring at me, too, because it’s so different from what I usually wear at school, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not annoyed. There is one person’s eyes on me that is particularly getting to me.

From the moment I stepped into the dining hall on Monday, Snow’s eyes have tracked my every moment. He was so shocked by my appearance that his mouth fell open, and he stared at me for a full minute before Bunce said something to him.

Ever since then, I have felt him following me, closer than ever before, and he looks like he wants to say something. He hasn’t yet, and I’m unsure what is holding him back. Even though I’ve been doing my best to avoid him, there have been several moments when he could have corned me and said whatever he wanted.

I am relieved he hasn’t, though, because I am simply not in the mood to listen to him make fun of me. Especially since if this weren’t so against the social norm, I might feel inclined to dress like this a little more often.

Simon Snow is the last person I want to hear making fun of me for wearing something that makes me feel more like myself than anything else.

Simon

“Would you please stop drooling over Baz’s legs and focus. You were the one who wanted to study today.”

“I’m not drooling!” I say defensively, my voice a little too loud for the library.

“You’re like two minutes away from it. You haven’t stopped staring at his legs all day.”

She gives me this look that leaves absolutely no room for argument, so I press my lips tightly together and turn my attention back to my notes. We have an important exam coming up, but I can’t focus, not with Baz sitting over there dressed like that.

I have to confront him about it. Ask him what he’s plotting.

Finally, I’ve had enough, and when Baz gets up to go in search of a book, it’s the perfect opportunity.

I stand and Penny sighs but doesn’t say anything. This is likely paired with one of her signature eye rolls, but I can’t bring myself to look her in the face right now, so I don’t know for sure.

I watch Baz disappear between the stacks and follow after him.

Maybe I’ll actually be able to get him alone this time. I’ve been trying to talk to him all day, but I didn’t want to make a big scene in front of everyone, and I could never get him alone.

I find him towards the back of the library and realize that I never actually figured out what I would say to him once I finally got the chance to talk to him, and my mind goes blank as my eyes once again fall to the skirt he’s wearing.

“What the hell are you doing?” I blurt.

Well, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

Baz

Simon’s exclamation startles me, but I go very still in the hopes that he won’t notice. I didn’t even know he was in the library. I thought I would be safe from him here, but sure enough, when I turn around, he’s standing behind me with an intense expression.

“What do you mean?” I sneer, trying to play it cool.

“I know you’re plotting something.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He takes a step closer to me, and my heart starts racing. My cheeks flush, too, and I’m not really sure why.

Simon’s eyes drop to my skirt as if that’s answer enough, and I’m pretty sure his own cheeks go a little red as stares at me.

That’s interesting, I think.

“You know, Snow, if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do is say so.” I say it just to see how he’ll react. To test something.

He really is blushing now and stutters out a bunch of sounds that don’t make up any real words.

He doesn’t hit me, though. He doesn’t even deny it. His pale skin just keeps getting redder until it looks like all of the blood in his body might be in his face. It’s kind of cute but also confusing. Why is he reacting like this?

“That’s not—. I mean—. What are you planning?” He says, trying to sound fierce, but in reality, he just sounds nervous. It truly is interesting.

“Nothing. I just like wearing skirts.” I tell him the truth only because I know he won’t believe it.

He growls at me and takes another step forward. I try to back away from him, not trusting what I might do if he gets too close to me, but I bump into a shelf and have been effectively cornered by him.

“You’ve got me where you want me,” I say, a little too breathily. “Now, what?”

He shakes his head, and I’m not sure if it’s at me or himself. He doesn’t say anything, just takes another step forward until we’re mere inches apart.

I glance around us, but we’re all alone. He has me trapped, and I don’t even mind. Even if he were about to kill me, I don’t think I’d stop him. I might kiss him first, but I wouldn’t mind dying with Simon Snow this close to me.

A long moment stretches out between us as we stand like this, practically staring each other down. Then, his eyes move to my mouth then my skirt then back to my face, and I try not to shift under his gaze, try not to care.

But then something shifts in his expression, and he starts to lean in closer until our lips are a breath apart.

Simon

Maybe this is what Penny meant earlier.

I wasn’t obsessed about Baz wearing a skirt because I thought he was plotting something. It was because I was attracted to him in it.

Once that thought enters my mind, it’s like everything else seems to click into place.

The skirt isn’t the only thing attracting me to Baz. I’ve felt this way about him before, I just always buried it and threw myself into figuring out what he was plotting.

But it was always so much more than that.

I watch Baz a lot. The way he casts spells, using his magic so effortlessly. The way he pushes his out of his sparkling grey eyes when it comes loose from its slicked back state. The way his hair almost starts to curl when he gets out of the shower. The way he smiles when he thinks no one is watching, like he is truly happy.

The thoughts and realizations keep circling in my mind until I realize that I desperately want to kiss him.

I start to lean forward but stop, wondering if I’m making a mistake. What if Baz doesn’t want this?

Baz

Simon hesitates briefly, meeting my eyes, like he’s waiting for me to tell him no or push him away, but I’m not going to stop him. I don’t have that kind of willpower.

I nod at him, and that’s all it takes for him to close the distance between us.

His lips press to mine softly at first then more firmly once he realizes I’m really not going to stop him. I can’t stop the sigh that escapes me as he kisses me like it’s the only thing he wants to do.

I kiss him back slowly, afraid that this is all a dream, but it’s not. It’s so utterly real. Simon Snow is kissing me.

With that thought, I put everything I have into the kiss, tilting my head to deepen it and putting my hands on his hips to deepen the kiss.

It feels weird to feel Simon against my bare leg. I mean, it feels weird to have him this close in general, but also, it feels nice.

He’s so warm, and I didn’t realize that I had been freezing all day with my legs uncovered until Simon’s natural body heat starts to warm me up.

I smile into the kiss as one of his hands finds its way into my hair, tangling there. His other hand slides down my side until he reaches the edge of my shirt and hem of the skirt. He stops there, like he’s found exactly what he was looking for.

Damn, I think, pulling back to catch my breath, if I had known that wearing a skirt would get this reaction from Simon, I might have worn one a lot sooner.

Apparently I say that last bit out loud because Simon agrees. “You should. It looks better on you than anyone else.”

I feel all of the blood in my body rise to my face in a deep blush, and I kiss Simon again in the hopes that he won’t notice how pleased I am by his words.

I have never told anyone how dressing in girl’s clothes really makes me feel, so it makes me feel elated to hear Simon say he likes it.

This isn’t the first time I’ve tried on a skirt, but it’s the first time I’ve worn one in front of other people. Which is why I accepted the bet. And why I intentionally lost. I wanted to try it out. I wanted to see how other people might react while being able to say that I didn’t have a choice if things didn’t go too well.

This week has given me hope, though. It made me feel like I could dress like this more often if I wanted to. And maybe I really will.

I don’t think I would want to dress like a girl all the time or that I want to be a girl, but occasionally dressing like this makes me feel really good. It feels right.

I kiss Simon harder, happy that I can be myself and be allowed to kiss him when I never thought I would be able to do either of those things.

#snowbaz #carry on #rainbow rowell #simon snow trilogy #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz fic #my writing #20 first kisses #sometimes all i think about is you #it feels so nice to write a snowbaz fic again #i probably won't write them as often as i once did #but i definitely want to get back to writing them

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autumnsart22 · 3 years

Text

Flat Tire: Suna x fem reader

SMUT 🔥🔥

This is technically a part 3 of First time in College: Suna x reader, but I decided to make it a stand alone. You can read the other parts if you’re interested. Also, I left the ending kind of open, so I would be super happy to continue it if anyone wants me to...

P.S. I feel like it’s rare to have someone look this fine when it’s NOT EVEN FANART BRUHHHH

Suna was late to pick you up for your “date” (was it a date? He hadn’t made it particularly clear), which wasn’t a good sign. You had spent the hours after your class at 3 pacing around, trying to figure out what outfit to wear, and questioning your whole existence. Your roommate, Kiyoko, didn’t make things any better. When you had explained how you had met Suna at the frat party, how sweet he had seemed, her mouth had dropped and her eye practically popped out of her head.

“Out of every guy you could have picked, you chose Suna Rintarou?” She sighed, burying her face in her hands.

“What? Is he...bad?” You asked, suddenly nervous. You liked Suna, from the amount you knew about him. He seemed like he was pretty arrogant, and also kind of lazy, but he was nice to talk to. You knew you’d be disappointed if he ended up being a piece of shit.

“He’s just...you know…” Kiyoko was clearly trying to find a way to phrase it. “He’s ditched a lot of different girls, sleeping around and then never speaking to them again, that sort of thing. Typical frat boy behavior.”

You sighed, since it was exactly what you expected. “Well, it’s fine. We’re just going to eat, so I’ll just get it over with and then be out of his life.”

“Ok. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You waved her off. “I know, I know. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, six o’clock came and went, and no sign of Suna; suddenly, despite my dismissal, “getting hurt” seemed like a distinct possibility. By 6:30, you ditched your shoes and coat, crashing on your bed and starting the newest episode of Attack on Titan. Fuck Suna and his dumb pretty face. You were good with Levi.

Halfway through the episode, there was a knock at your door, and your muscles tensed so suddenly that your neck twinged.

“Uh, who is it?” You yelled as you rolled out of bed, stumbling to the door.

“Su--” You opened it and blinked up at the guy outside in shock. “--na.”

“Oh.” You raised your eyebrows. He was wearing black pants and a black crewneck, a white collared shirt underneath.

“Hi,” he panted, completely out of breath. “Sorry.”

You snorted. “Um. It’s late.”

“I got lost.”

“Did you now?”

“And I had to go back home to change.”

“You could have texted me!”

“...I don’t have your number.”

You opened your mouth, but you had nothing to say to that. “Well, fuck,” you muttered, turning away.

“Sorry. You’ll still come to eat though, right?”

You wanted to curse him out for making you wait so long, for making you think he ditched you for the night and forgot.

“Fine. But you’re a dick.”

He grinned lazily, leaning in the door frame as you grabbed your shoes and jacket again, scooping up your purse as you exited your dorm.

“What?” You said as you finally approached him, blushing as you met his eyes despite how hard you tried not to.

“Nothing.”

He led the way to his car in silence, and it was a strange mix of awkward and comfortable. Suna didn’t seem like the type to be super talkative, but at the same time you felt like you should be making conversation.

When you got to his car, you took a deep breath to calm yourself down before sliding into the passenger seat. Of course, the whole car smelled like weed, but it wasn’t overwhelming and honestly kind of nice.

“So, you’re a freshman?” He asked, pulling out of the lot, and you nodded.

“Are you?”

“Sophomore.”

“What’s your major?”

“Undecided, but I enjoy photography. Not the best career path though…”

“Wait, that's really cool.” You glanced at him, impressed. “What do you take pictures of?”

“Anything, but people mostly.”

“You’ll have to show me some time.”

“Only if you forgive me for being late.”

You crossed your arms, snorting. “Fine.”

The car suddenly jerked, and you gasped as you heard a rush of air coming from the rear.

“Oh...fuck,” Suna muttered, pulling off to the side of the road. “I think we just got a flat tire.”

“How????”

“How am I supposed to know?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Do you want me to call someone?”

“Hang on, I might be able to…” He hopped out of the car before finishing, and you sat in silence as you heard him walking around to examine the damage. A moment later, he re-entered the driver's side with an annoyed expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s flat. Shit.”

“What are we going to do?”

“My friend has a spare tire, but it might take him a bit to get here. Are you ok with waiting?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

“Sorry, this is the worst night ever.”

“It’s not your fault. We can just hang out until your friend gets here.”

Suna’s expression didn’t change, but you thought you saw his shoulders relax a little. In the darkness of the car, you couldn’t help but admire his profile as he turned off the car and shoved his hair back from his face.

“What?” He said, turning to look at you, and you went beat red.

“Huh?”

“You’re looking at me.”

“N-no.”

“Really?” He smirked, leaning towards you slightly.

Your heart stuttered, practically stopping at you stared into his pretty yellow eyes. Oh my god...

“I--”

Before you could answer, Suna sat back, still smirking. A car drove past you on the dark street and you used the momentary distraction to try and get ahold of yourself.

“So, what do you want to do?” Suna asked, and you looked over at him again.

“You say that like we have another option besides just sitting here.”

He shrugged, pulling a THC pen from his pocket and holding it out to you. You took it from him, hitting it twice before handing it back.

“What’s your major?” He asked, holding the pen to his lips.

“Political economics right now, but I’m considering switching to english since I like writing.”

“What do you write?”

“All kinds of things, although mostly short stories. I’ve been working on my second novel too, and the first draft is almost done. It’s really shitty right now, but hopefully once I go back and edit it…”

You paused, suddenly embarrassed. Were you rambling? You could talk about writing all day, but most people didn’t care enough to keep listening beyond the first sentence.

“Yeah?” Suna said, waiting for you to finish.

“Oh. That was it.” You glanced away, waiting for a subject change.

“What’s your novel about?” He paused, laughing under his breath. “I can’t believe you wrote a fucking book. That’s so sick.”

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your face, and you covered your mouth with your hand. “Ok, short version--”

“Short version? Why? We’ve got plenty of time.”

You opened your mouth, and then paused. No one actually ever asked to hear about your writing beyond just the basic formalities, and you couldn’t believe how happy it made you feel that someone seemed genuinely interested.

Deciding to abandon all pretenses, you jumped into a long scale explanation of the plot you were writing, all while Suna watched your face intently.

“...And yeah! That’s basically it,” you finished finally, smiling brightly at him. “Sorry if that was super boring, I didn’t mean to…”

“Can I read it when you finish? I’m invested.” He took another hit off the pen while watching you, and you smiled to yourself. How was this boy saying all the right things? Fuck.

“I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“Depends on my mood.”

“What can I do to guarantee you’ll let me read?” He reached over to grab your chin, stroking your cheeks gently with his thumb, and your breathing hitched. “Ha, you’re cute when you’re all red like this.”

You snorted, but didn’t pull away. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“Really?” He leaned closer to you, until your faces were only inches apart in the darkness.

“N-no.” Your heart thundered.

“Hm,” He murmured. “I’ll have to try to change that.”

And then he was pressing your body back into the seat and kissing you hard on the mouth.

Oh my god, it was heaven. He tasted like minty chapstick and weed, and you sighed, your mind going blank.

His long fingers tangled in your hair, dragging you closer, and a low noise came from his chest as you opened your mouth. You pulled away after a long minute, gasping, which only prompted Suna to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck.

You leaned your head back to give him easier access, letting out an embarrassing noise as his hand slid under your shirt to trace the skin of your stomach.

You weren’t a virgin, but you had only had sex with one person--your previous boyfriend--and it had been less than satisfactory the few times you had done it. Apparently you had missed the physical contact more than you thought.

You sat up, and Suna pulled away, his eyes a little glazed over and his hair messed up. God damn, he was fine.

He smiled slowly as your eyes trailed down his chest to his crotch, and he slid his seat all the way back so there was enough room for you to crawl into his lap.

It was awkward, and you slammed your head on the roof of the car hard enough to make you yelp in pain as you tried to maneuver over to him. But any embarrassment you might have felt washed away as he burst out laughing and kissed you gently on the mouth.

You tugged at his shirt in annoyance, suddenly pissed that it was still in place, and he awkwardly pulled over his head.

“Pushy,” he muttered, and you flicked him hard on the forehead.

“Dick.”

“No need to beg, sweetheart. You’ll get it soon.”

You swallowed hard and your thighs clenched in anticipation, even as you rolled your eyes.

Any annoyance you had flew from your head as he slipped a hand down your pants, the other coming up to tangle in your hair. Instead of touching you where you needed him to, he traced along your inner thighs, kissing your collarbone.

“Suna,” you mumbled, suddenly impatient as you shifted your hips, and he grinned into your skin before you felt his fingers shove the thin fabric of your underwear aside.

“Oh go--” Your eyes rolled back as he slowly eased a digit into you, wiggling it as he slowly widened you up.

“S-Shit,” you gasped, your hands grasping at his shirt as he added another finger, circling his thumb at the same time on your clit.

“You’re already so fucking wet,” Suna grunted, kissing up your neck as you began to roll your hips, riding his hand.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, but he grinned wickedly and immediately pulled his hand from your pants. Your eyes widened in outrage, but you stopped when he held up his fingers, covered in your juices, and shoved them in his mouth. You almost came from the sight, clenching around nothing as your heart stuttered.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he mumbled, and you felt his dick twitch beneath you. It was hard as a rock in his pants, and you could feel it straining against the fabric. It was pretty big, if the bulge was evidence enough.

You quickly fumbled to get his zipper open, needing to have him inside you right now. His fingers were good, but you needed...

Suna smacked your hands away. “Take off your pants,” he ordered, and you obliged, choosing to ignore how hot you got at his commanding tone. You could unpack that later.

It was a struggle to get the fabric off in the small space, but finally you were back in his lap, and he was holding your hips, and his (long) cock was free of his pants. You reached down, stroking it slowly and rubbing your thumb gently across the tip, spreading the precum that had gathered already.

“Jesus christ,” Suna said, his voice strained, and he twitched in your hand.

“Jesus wouldn’t appreciate his name being used in this context.”

“He’d be jealous of me right now.”

“You’re definitely going to hell for that.”

“And you’re not? You little slut.” Suna shoved his fingers in your mouth while his other hand fumbled with a condom which he tugged from his pocket. He slid it down over his length with expert speed, clearly having done this many times before, but you shoved the thought from your mind.

Suna held your hips tightly as you positioned yourself over him, helping you as you eased yourself down onto his dick. He was larger than your last boyfriend, and it burned for a moment as you adjusted to his size, but Suna held your face and stroked your hair as you breathed through it. “You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” he groaned in your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

His praise made you clench around him, the pain easing away, and you rolled your hips experimentally. The friction on your clit and almost made you cum right away, and you let out a moan into his neck as your head dropped onto his shoulder. Holy motherfucking shit how did it feel so good...

Suna buried his face in your chest as you began to ride him, shifting your hips slowly as you felt his full length hitting points you didn’t even know existed. When he ran his tongue along your nipple, you let out an embarrassing noise and fucked him faster.

Your legs began to burn, but Suna took over easily, thrusting up into you while you held onto his shoulders. Your moans and the sound of sex filled the car, and your hand slid across the fogged glass of the window as you grasped for anything to hold onto. You were so close to coming, you could feel it all the way down to your toes.

“You’re doing so good, baby, you feel so good,” Suna groaned, reaching down to rub your clit, his tongue circling your nipple at the same time, and with his voice in your ear, it was enough to finally send you over the edge. You clenched around him, your mouth opening in a silent scream as you came hard all over his cock. It was easily the best orgasm you’d had during sex, possibly the best ever. Suna didn’t take his eyes off you as you came apart, relishing in how it was him who put that expression on your face, and how only he was seeing you like this right now.

“And you said flattery doesn’t work on you,” Suna laughed, but you couldn’t even make yourself glare at him.

“Idiot.”

You panted as you came down from your high, but Suna still wasn’t finished. You could tell he was getting close by the way his pace picked up and how he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust up into you. His groans were deep and sexy in your ear, making your overstimulated clit throb as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

“F-fuckkkk…” He panted, kissing you again and shoving his tongue in your mouth. He held onto your hair, tangled around his fist, forcing you to lean your head back as he created hickies all along your throat.

He finally came with a groan, his cock twitching as he held onto you tightly, head falling on your shoulder. You both stilled, panting, and you couldn’t help the slow smile that tugged at your lips. For a moment you were too tired to move as you felt his dick soften inside you, so you gently stroked his hair instead.

“Are you ok?” He murmured, finally lifting his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks were flushed, his hair a wreck, but you were sure you didn’t look much better.

“I’m great,” you said, smiling. “Are you?”

Suna blinked, looking dazed for a moment, but he nodded.

You shifted, trying to get off his lap in the most graceful way possible, but your back slammed against the wheel and the car honked loudly.

“Jesus!” You cursed, flinching, and Suna rolled his eyes.

“You just woke the whole neighborhood.”

“Ugh,” you glared at him as you pulled on your pants, readjusting your shirt to cover your chest once again.

The car suddenly lit up as headlights pulled up behind you, and you whirled to face Suna.

“Is that your friend? Wait, where’s your shirt?!”

He wasn’t listening, casually tugging it over his head as he opened the driver’s side door. You heard a door slam from behind you, and then a guy with grey hair and dark tips leaned down to wave at you from Suna’s side.

“Hi. Sorry it took so long, but I have the tire.”

“Thanks,” Suna nodded, and then gestured to you. “Kita, this is Y/n L/n. Y/n, this is my friend Kita Shinsuke.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you said, but you felt your stomach drop as Kita’s eyes went to the fogged windows, where your hand print was still visible.

“Yeah…” He raised his eyebrows. “Nice to meet you too.”

Suna crossed his arms, looking bored. “Wanna help me change the tire?”

The two boys left you alone as they went to swap out the flat, and you worked on trying to get your face to stop burning. By the time Suna finally got back, you felt decently less embarrassed; he probably did this all the time, so for Kita, it was definitely nothing new. He probably wouldn’t even remember your name.

“Hey,” you looked over at Suna in surprise as he slid back into the driver’s seat and gently grabbed your face, kissing you slowly.

“What was that for?” You sighed when he pulled away.

He shrugged, smirking. “Are you still hungry?”

Part 1

Part 2

#holy shit i love him #ive never blushed harder than while writing this #mad butterflies omg #smut #suna #haikyuu suna #suna x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintarō #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

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siriushxney · 3 years

Text

* . PAPER RINGS !

pairing — lando norris x reader

rating — fluff

wordcount — 2.3k

warnings — cursing (it's me who are we kidding)

song — taylor swift | paper rings

note ! — before y'all jump down my throat about "what the hell is a toque” — it's a hat. us canadians call it a toque. also this is long overdue, but I hope you like it!

when the light of day melted into the dark of night, and long, tiring shifts slowly came to an end, it wasn't an odd sight to see large groups of people piling into bars for a drink or several. with an extra hour and a half added onto your normal shift time due to your bosses inability to do what he was supposed to do — leaving stacks of paperwork you had to go through, along with a few of your other colleagues.

now walking into the packed bar — bags long forgotten in your cars, you couldn't find it in yourself to cringe at the strong smell of alcohol that burned your nose as you walked through the door, nor did you care for the way the heels of your feet stuck to the ground with every step you took.

after a day like today, you weren't sure if you'd mind anything.

sheila — one of your colleagues raised a stiff hand and slammed it down on the counter, gaining the attention of the bartender. “we need like, fifteen shots stat!” the bartender immediately got to work, pouring glass after glass — sliding them in front of the five of you, before turning to serve another guest.

“that asshole gonna get my foot down his throat if he dumps that much paperwork on us again,” she downed her first shot and reached for another one, “all of that should have been sorted out in the morning, not thrown onto us as we were packing up,” the rest of you agreed, downing a shot quickly as you tried to keep up with the loud mouthed girl.

you turned your head away from the conversation that had started between the others, choosing to stare curiously at the screen in the corner displaying reruns of a race that took place today.

feeling a body skim yours as a group of men slid into the barspace to the left of you — a majority of them sporting an orange and blue item of clothing, something you had connected quickly to the orange and blue car that had been on screen moments earlier.

looking back to the tv hanging from the ceiling, you tried to wrap your head around what all the numbers meant — a small bump caused you to look down, a younger man of the bunch staring at the tv proudly, “do you watch f1?” he turned his head to look at you as he finished asking his question.

f1... Is that what this was called?

“no, but I'd rather watch that then the football game that's on,” the boy looked at you with wide eyes, slightly in awe of how blunt you were. he nodded slightly before turning his attention back to the tv. “ I assume you do. you're wearing the colours of one of the cars,” you felt bad as you watched the boy curl into himself slightly.

ha looked over to you once again — “you can say that,” his eyes glinted a little bit as he spoke, a proud smirk coming across his face as he leaned in closer, not close enough to make you uncomfortable, but close enough that he could speak without the bar hearing. “I race for them — see that orange and blue mclaren? thats me.”

that was definitely more interesting than the news.

“so what might that mclaren driver's name be?” his head turned back to you, a slight red tint covering his cheeks, and climbing to the tips of his ears.

with a single hand outstretched to you, he introduced himself, “I’m lando norris — and who might you be?”

“Y/N.”

—

that day had happened a few months ago — and in that time, your friendship with the young driver had only progressed.

days you used to spend simply reading in the comfort of your own home, was now spent bouncing from bookshop from book shop — lando recommending you all the books that he had been in love with at the moment.

you had to refrain from telling him you had already read them, having looked him up on instagram a day or two after the initial meet — the photo of him cozy and comfortable in his bed with the stack of books perfectly visible to his side.

the types of books a person read could tell you a lot about their character — and with lando, it was all good things.

“okay, and then this one is semi based on a true story — like half true but has a lot of action and drama sprinkled in there-” he rambled on about the book he held in his hands, his eyes darting between you and it as his hands ran over the spine and pages of the book.

even knowing the writer, plot, and ending — you couldn't bring yourself to put an end to his ramblings. instead, you stood to his side and nodded eagerly as he spoke words with such excitement.

for any other person, you would have cut them off and told them that you had read it — but for some reason, cutting lando off was the last thing you wanted to do. he wasn't the famous young driver for mclaren who was always eager for a challenge on the track. he was just lando.

the boy who had a mini library growing in his room, filled with books from every genre. he was the boy with the odd affinity for milk. he was just normal.

and for the first time in your life — normal felt nice.

—

“lando, you're insane.”

“maybe a little bit, but insane is fun sometimes.”

when lando said he had something fun in mind for the two of you to do, the last place you expected to end up was on the shore of an ice cold lake — the wind blowing harshly against your body, making it sway slightly with the force.

lando had already taken off his jacket, now standing in just his shirt and bottoms.

“I’m not going in that,” you backed away from the boy as he stripped more and more of his clothes off, dropping them in a neat pile on the ground.

he shrugged, pausing in his action of removing his jeans, “are you not going in because its cold, or are you not going in because you don't have a swim suit?” while the lake technically was still warm enough for swimming, the thought of the water 's temperature that was lowering daily paired with the strong winds, didn’t exactly spark excitement in you.

“both.”

“it’s either your coming in by your own will, or I’m dragging you in.”

“you touch me and I’ll hurt you — that’s a promise.”

a mischievous glint appears in lando’s eyes — he knew what he was about to do was going to get him in trouble, and most likely hurt in the end, but the thought of doing it overpowered his thoughts about what would happen after.

there was no going back.

in a split second lando had his arms wrapped around your waist as he dragged you closer to the lake — despite the heels of your feet digging into the ground, he had still succeeded in getting you close enough that if he threw his body weight towards the water, you would soon follow.

and that’s exactly what he did.

a laugh from lando, a squeal from you, and the whooshing of the air rushing past your ears was all you could hear before you found yourself submerged under the cold water.

you clawed your way back to the surface with the help of lando’s arms, which were still wrapped around your waist — as soon as you felt the coldness of the air reach your face, you were turning in his arms and swinging.

“I’m fully clothed you asshole!” you brought a fist down lightly on the top of his head — the water squishing out at the action.

“stop- don’t- stop hitting me!” lando laughed as he let you go, swimming backwards slightly as a way to get away from your violent swings. “I know that you're fully clothed- that's what makes it so funny,” the curly haired boy couldn't contain his laughter at the end — his voice railing into the squeaky laugher that you had come to love.

without the support of lando, paired with the additional weight of your heavy winter coat and soaked wool toque and mittens, you began to struggle slightly to stay afloat. “lando-” the water climbed its way up your face before washing back down as you kicked harder.

his laugher stopped as he kicked his way over to you — grabbing around your waist once more and holding you to his body.

with the distance closed between the two of you, the feeling of his warm breath against your face was unavoidable — as well as the feeling of the heat radiating from his body, even through the layers you had on. neither of you spoke, both trying not to move — for every movement brought a wave of discomfort with your muscles tensed up from the cold. but as time started to tick slower, and all you could feel was the other — the last thing on both of your minds was the temperature of the water.

“you’re turning blue, lando,” as much as you wished you would've stayed in that position forever, the sight of lando’s cheeks and lips draining of its naturally pink colour concerned you. even with layers upon layers of clothes on, you found yourself shivering — and with lando in nothing but his boxers, you doubted he was doing much better than you. “I think right now is a good time to get out,” lando didnt reply, only bringing the two of you closer to the shore.

with chattering teeth, bodies curled in, and fast feet, lando and you made your way to his car — both jumping in the minute you could get your hands on the door handle. neither of you cared for the seats wetting as you sat down.

“I think I have some towels in the back from my training — can you grab them? I’ll get the heat and everything going,” you leaned into the back of the car to the best of your ability, pulling two towels out of an orange gym bag, and bringing them to the front where lando and you sat.

lando wrapped the towel around his shoulders — the shaking constant and harsh, rocking his body violently.

“I would say I told you so, but I feel too bad to even insult you,” with your jacket, toque, and mittens stippped off and thrown onto the floor, you wrapped your towel around your shoulders much like lando had.

“awe, youre so considerate — I didn’t think it through.”

“trust me — I can tell.”

the sound of the heaters on blast and the clattering of teeth was all that filled the car. lando had seemed aggravated at your comment — the way his body turned slightly away from your own, his eyes never meeting yours, and the fact that there was no laugh following or during his words.

what had you said or done that pissed him off?

“are you mad at me?”

lando turned slowly, his eyes still not fully meeting yours — but he looked like he was less angry and more conflicted. “I’m not mad, I’m just- just,” the words were on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to say them. “forget it.”

“no, I wanna know what's wrong — please tell me?”

he angled his body to face yours after a few moments of no response, making it so him and you looked at eachother with ease. “back out there on the lake- did you… did you feel anything?” your body tensed at his question — it was the last thing that you thought would come out of his mouth, so it took you by surprise. “because I know I did — and that scares me.”

you struggled to find a string of words that made sense to you, “I mean, yeah I guess I did — what did you feel? just so I can make sure that I felt the same thing.”

“I felt like I wanted to stay in that position forever — like I wanted to kiss you,” the words he spoke were soft and genuine. “all I felt was you.”

it had taken months for you to put a name to the feelings you had when you were around the british boy, but now, more than ever, did you finally know what they were.

they were love.

“I felt the same thing — all that I could feel was you and your stupidly perfect body against mine,” both of you giggled slightly at that. “and all that was running through my head was that if you had asked me to do anything with you, I would have done it — hell you could have asked me to marry you with paper rings and I would’ve said yes.”

lando stared at you with a calm look on his face — his eyes drinking you and all of your features in. “I’m glad — because I was thinking the same thing,” his hand fell on top of yours, bringing a warmth to the back of it. “and no need for paper rings when I can promise you the real deal when the time comes.”

“like I said before, I would marry you with paper rings lando,” you leaned in slightly, your voice barely above a whisper. “now kiss me you goof.”

he didn’t have to be asked twice.

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #::lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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luciusmalfoysimp · 3 years

Text

“Lost” (Lucius Malfoy x Fem!Reader

this was requested by @headcannonsforlife !! i hope you enjoy :)

plot synopsis: you and lucius are on a nice outing to diagon alley when you get separated from him and both of you panic.

warnings: mentions of social anxiety and large crowds

“Diagon Alley.” You spoke loud and clear as you dropped the powder from your fingers. Emerald flames surrounded you and in no time, you found yourself right on Diagon Alley, your partner Lucius waiting patiently.

“There you are, dear.” He gave you a soft smile as he helped you out of the fireplace. As you went to go find your favorite shops, Lucius stopped you.

“Is there something wrong?” You asked. To your surprise, he took off one of his expensive leather gloves.

“You got soot on your face.” He mumbled. Lucius lightly licked the tip of his thumb and wiped away the spot on your cheek. Despite this action being innocent, you could see the seductive look in his eyes as he did this, and you felt your face heat up. “All better. Come along, (y/n).” After putting the glove back on, your partner gave you his arm, which you linked with yours with a smile.

The two of you began to walk down the cobblestone street, quietly exchanging in light conversation as you passed each shop. You noticed the strange looks you got as you passed, which you had expected. The gossip in the Ministry of Magic had traveled fast about the divorce of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and only got quicker when you were spotted with Lucius three months ago at a restaurant. Of course, Rita Skeeter had managed to get news about you two and only made the rumors worse.

The two of you stopped in Flourish and Blotts just to look around for a bit. You found yourself a new interesting novel and bought it for yourself, then went back to Lucius, who led you outside.

“Darling, why did you by that yourself?” He asked. “I could’ve easily gotten that for you.”

“You don’t have to buy me everything, Lucius.” You replied with a laugh. As the two of you walked, you noticed how thick the crowd was starting to get. Great, big crowds... You thought to yourself. Keep it together...

The streets began to fill with people, but the two of you continued to walk. As you did, you felt yourself trip and drop your book. Instantly, you swooped down to grab it, which only made things worse as now you could see nothing but legs swarming you as you tried to snag the novel. It took a good four attempts, in fact, your fingers got stepped on during the third, but you managed to get it.

“Alright, sorry about that, where to-” Your voice cut off the instant you saw that your partner was no where to be found. You scanned the area for any sign of his white blond hair, but you couldn’t make anything out. You felt your heart begin to race and the pain in your index and middle fingers started to pulse. The pain only really now registered and you saw that your index finger was bleeding, and both were swelling slightly.

The noise of the voices overlapping from the crowd started to get much louder in your ears and sound like an ocean’s wave crashing. You started to sweat as you moved through the crowd, calling out your partner’s name every now and then. You were shoved left and right, the large group pushing their way for who knows the reason. For what seemed like hours, you struggled against the crowd. You felt an elbow to the ribs, and the wind was knocked out of you.

Frantically looking around, you managed to get off to the side to duck into an alleyway to try to breathe normally again and try to imagine where Lucius would be. He has to be looking for me, he’s probably worried to death...

Intense emotions started going off inside of your head like fireworks: overwhelming anxiety, frustration from letting go of Lucius, guilt for knowing he would be nervous as well, and fear for his safety and yours. Your heart felt as though it were about to burst as you clutched your book to your chest, trying to calm yourself down enough to think of what to do. Yet, your anxiety betrayed you and didn’t give you the chance to think anything else except how terrified and overwhelmed you were.

The sudden rush of people started to dwindle, but your legs were locked in place, despite trying to get yourself to move. You felt almost faint from how rapidly you were breathing and you felt yourself rest against the brick wall.

“Hey, are you alright?” A voice politely asked. Your head snapped to the left as you heard the voice. A girl with thick white blonde hair and blue eyes stood before you wearing a pink coat and flashy skirt. You took note of her radish earrings as you tried to get yourself to speak.

“I...” A man suddenly approached her, lightly grabbing her arm. His hair was the exact shade as hers.

“Luna, I’ve told you many times, please don’t wander off...” The second he saw you, his demeanor changed. “Are you lost?” You nodded, unable to form words. “We can help you out, no doubt about it.” Your tense legs seemed to relax and you let yourself walk forward, still holding onto your book.

“What’s your name?” The girl asked, her voice light and soothing.

“(Y/n)...” You spoke in a hoarse voice, your mouth and tongue parched from anxiety and not speaking.

“Well, we’ll help you.” The girl gave a soft smile and led you through the crowd, which had certainly calmed down. The man, whom you assumed was her father, went to your left side, the girl on the right.

“Is there someone you came here with?” The man’s voice was just as calming as the girl’s, and you could definitely tell they were related.

“Yes, Lucius Malfoy.” You replied.

“Malfoy, hm?” The girl spoke quietly. “His son wasn’t very nice to me at Hogwarts...”

Just as she was about to continue, that’s when you saw him. He was standing right by the edge of Knockturn Alley rather emotionless, and you sprinted to him. He saw you, and his cold expression wavered slightly once you got to him.

“There you are, dear.” Lucius grasped your hand, giving it a squeeze. You could tell he was just as anxious, but he was much better at hiding it. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day. We should get home.

“Wait!” You turned to the pair of people who’d helped you, the two of them just catching up to you. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re welcome.” The man replied. The two nodded and turned to leave.

“Before you go, what were your names?” You asked.

“Lovegood.” The girl piped up. “I’m Luna.”

“Xenophilius Lovegood.” He gave you a small bow, then the two walked away. You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you turned to Lucius.

“There’s a Floo Powder station just a few shops down.” He nearly whispered. You could tell his anxiety was getting to him, and you grasped his hand bone-crushingly tight as he swiftly led you to the station. You quickly got into the fireplace and said “Malfoy Manor.”

Once you got home, Lucius followed only seconds after you. The second he stepped out of the fireplace, his cane hit the ground as he quickly approached you and took you in his arms. You could feel him trembling as his grip tightened around you. Your breathing slowed down, and your arms went around his waist, your face against his chest.

The two of you stood in silence for a bit. It was obvious that both of you needed to just feel the warmth of the other, to know that the other was right there. At last, you felt his lips lightly touch your forehead.

“I was so terrified...” Lucius spoke quietly. “I saw you go to grab your book, and I tried to go back to you, but the crowd pushed me forward.” His tone gave away the fact that he obviously blamed himself. You looked up at him and stared into his eyes. He cupped your chin and placed his lips against yours, humming gently. You let your eyes close as you kissed him back.

The sweet kiss lasted a few seconds, and he pulled away. Draping an arm around you, Lucius led you to the couch, where to two of you sat together in peace for the rest of the evening.

sorry if this wasn’t my best writing. i hope you all are well!

-mist

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy x you #lucius malfoy one shot

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 3 years

Note

Have you ever gone into the full list of reasons why the show failed as bad as it did?

I’m not sure, but I can give it a shot.

Short answer: The show doesn’t have enough budget for a live-action sci fi epic that requires exotic animals and several wildly inhuman aliens. Its attempts to get around the budget constraints are often not ideal.

Long answer:

Far and away the biggest problem is the limited budget, but there’s a second almost-as-large problem with the showrunners not knowing how to work within a limited budget to create an action-adventure show.

As an example, AniTV episode “The Forgotten” (S1E13) adapts the Rachel-gets-amnesia plot line from Megamorphs 1. It has approximately similar beats – Rachel hits her head in bird morph, demorphs partway while still concussed, wanders around the woods for a while with no idea who or what she is, encounters an ex-host who mistakes her for a controller, and eventually gets found by her friends — but on a severely limited budget that precludes grizzly bears or sentient tornadoes.

However, the way that the show conveys the tension of Rachel being lost in the woods is to have her... run and then trip over a tree root. And then to play the footage of her falling on her butt in slow motion with dramatic percussion music. And then she gets up, runs some more, and trips over a different tree root. This doesn’t appear to be a way of conveying that she’s going in circles (although she is, judging by the way they keep filming the same stretch of woods from different angles) or that she’s dizzy from the concussion. It appears to be a way to try and get tension and excitement out of a character being lost in the woods.

Eventually Rachel stumbles on Fran (the ex-host who lives in the woods) and has a whole debate with Fran about whether either one of them is a controller. The scene has a decent degree of tension, as all they have to do to amp up the creepiness factor is have Fran wave around a yeerk in a jar and rant about a conspiracy that sounds crazy to Rachel but scary to the audiencey. This scene works. Draw this scene out.

Only pretty soon Rachel breaks out of Fran’s house and is back to... running through the woods and tripping over roots. Again.

After several other close encounters with inconveniently-placed tree parts, Rachel then stumbles onto a camp of helpful volunteers — yay, she’s saved! The dramatic irony immediately kicks back in when the audience realizes that the volunteers are from The Sharing., But Rachel herself has no idea that she shouldn’t let that nice man put that thermometer in her ear. Again, the scene works and it’s relatively low-budget — it requires six or seven extras, a handful of inexpensive props, and dramatic percussion music to let us know something bad is happening.

But wait, Jake and Marco are here! Crouching behind a tree, in clear view of every single one of the controllers, because we can see them in the same camera angle. Nonetheless, Jake and Marco save the day by... turning into dogs and barking, which causes all the controllers to leave, which means they can go get Rachel because the controllers just left her there.

So there are two interlinked problems, as I said: the limited budget, and the show runners’ inability to work within a limited budget.

The limited budget is part of the reason that Rachel has to spend so much time alone. They can’t afford to have a lot of extras or props, so they can’t afford to do a scene with her running onto the highway or one with her breaking into an abandoned house. Much less have her turn into an elephant and get hit by a truck. However, there are more interesting ways to get across that she’s lost and confused that don’t rely on — dun dun dun duuunn — tree roots! Have her repeatedly attempt to morph partway, only to get grossed out and stop. Have her attempt to converse with a real bird because she was herself a bird when she woke up. Let her figure out she’s walking in circles. There are possibilities.

Same principle applies to Rachel’s actual crash. She doesn’t get mobbed by jays in an eagle morph, because no way that’d fit into the budget; she just turns into a hawk identical to the one that plays Tobias and then... flies straight into a tree. The budget’s the reason there can’t be jays, but surely there was a better way to have her hurt than for her to just smash into a tree for no reason. (Maybe all those roots from the rest of the episode are the trees’ revenge?) Have her lose control of the morph because it’s new. Have her be in a rush because she needs to get to gymnastics camp. Have her get knocked off-course by sudden wind. Find a way to explain the scene better using voiceover, even if the footage itself is necessarily limited.

Fran is cool. Keep her on screen for longer, even if you can’t afford to burn her house down.

Same goes for the Sharing controllers. “Aliens mimic humans” is the oldest sci fi movie trick in the book, for a reason. All you have to do to convey that the human-controllers are scary enemies is to pay your actors to act like aliens. What do aliens act like? Whatever the hell you want, as long as it gets the point across. Heck, if you need to save money on extras, have Tom be the one who finds Rachel. It works in-universe: “I’m your cousin, so you can trust me!” It’d use a guest star who’s already trained in the part. It’d amp up the dramatic irony because the audience already knows he’s not trustworthy. Heck, let Christopher Ralph play a controller in a giant red wig and glasses while you’re at it — goodness knows he’s wasted on providing voiceover for hawk footage the whole time. But either way, let that scene play out for longer.

And for love of Toomin let Jake and Marco be better at hiding. Half the episodes of the show have scenes with these two crouched partway behind waist-high and/or foot-thick barriers with large parts of their body clearly visible, watching controllers who stand less than five feet away and somehow don’t notice them. I understand that you can’t have them morph most of the time, but work with what you’ve got a little better than that. It cannot cost all that much money to have a sequence where a controller looks over suddenly, only to have the camera angle show us that nothing of Jake’s and Marco’s position is visible from the controllers’ perspective. Instead we get footage of the controllers talking where Jake and Marco (always those two for some reason) are clearly visible onscreen, less than 10 feet away. Heck, you could also toss some plastic spiders on the ground and add a voiceover of Jake and Marco thought-speaking.

Anyway, that episode is a microcosm of the whole show.

Problem: the show can only afford to use domestic animals (cat, dog, lizard, rat) in most episodes. Workaround: have The Gardens simply not exist in this universe and necessitate the kids needing to work with limited DNA they can find at home. What actually happens: the show does a big reveal for Jake’s tiger and Rachel’s lion and Marco’s wolf... only to have those go unused in 95% of future battles, making the kids look careless and terrible at tactical planning.

Problem: the hawk can’t act. Workaround: have Tobias get his morphing power back a lot sooner in the show. What actually happens: Tobias just isn’t there most of the time in Season 1.

Problem: there’s no budget for battle sequences. Workaround: focus on the atmospheric horror instead. What actually happens: stock footage of a tiger gets intermixed with Richard Sali (who plays Chapman) doing his best to react to a nonexistant tiger, and all conflicts resolve themselves with the controllers running away the moment the kids start to morph.

So on and so forth. There are other issues with the show — including some seriously unfortunate decisions about ethics and some cringe-inducing gender roles — but “can’t work within the limits of our budget” is at the root of most of the biggest problems.

#animorphs #anitv #long post #animorphs meta #anitv meta #budget #television shows #when i say that i could do better with 10 friends and their pets #i could do better with 10 friends and their pets #even if i do have the unfair advantage of 2021 technology #rageofkyubii #asks

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blackcherrykiss · 3 years

Text

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.9)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] [CH.7][CH.8] previous chapters

[CH.10] next chapter (unavailable on tumblr but avaliable on wattpad!)

You wait outside the nurse's office beside Jay in complete silence. You were both waiting for someone to burst out the door in front of you to rest assure Jungwon's condition.

"You can go to class, I'll stay and wait for Jungwon." Jay broke the noiseless lounge as his eyes laid flat on the grim grey floor. You were willing to stick around but realized it would be better if you were to just leave. Jungwon probably wouldn't want to see you after the minor argument. You simply nodded your head and left without another word.

When you had arrived in your astronomy class you carefully explained yourself, explaining Jay would be gone for most of the afternoon. Your teacher listened intently and understood every word well. Sitting in your usual spot, a wave of frustration washes over you once you remember Sunghoon had stolen your book for the class. You could only hope the new interesting concept of the class would jog your mind off of things to which it did. However, as the class came to a close you couldn't help birdwatch Jay's desk. Jay's absence for the entire class continued to make you worry about Jungwon and his condition.

Sending yourself out of the class in a daze, you began to join the trail of the halls. You met Nana and Dahee walking out of their class at the same time to your surprise, "Oh! Y/N!" With an abrupt slide to slow down you let the two girls catch up to you, "Sorry we couldn't eat lunch with you and Hyesun, we went to track tryouts." Nana gleefully explained.

"It's fine, I had detention for half of lunch and then got caught up in something..." Your head going straight back to Jungwon, "We should all be apologizing to Hyesun right now..." Immediately you got reminded about what Hyesun had mentioned to you earlier, "Hey, Dahee... I actually really need to speak to you about something in private." You asked shamelessly.

Nana looked at you both suspiciously but ultimately respected the privacy you desired, "I'll get going to my last class then, girls." She tapped both of your shoulders before joining the flowing current of the hallway.

You went with Dahee to a more private space, under one of the stairwells of the school. "Dahee, Hyesun told me about you and Sunghoon..." You trailed off, hoping you didn't have to say much more as to what you were about to say.

"So you do like him?" Dahee gasped happily to your surprise, "Don't worry I'm not that into him yet... But you should've told us a long time ago!" She nudged you gently in the elbow.

"Yeah! Sorry about that..." You lied with deep despise. You now had to act like you liked Sunghoon and that was the worst feeling ever, "I'll tell you about it later then, you should get going!" You cut the conversation very short so Dahee could both get to her class in time.

"I will! See you!" She waved in a much brighter mood now that you told her you supposedly liked someone for the first time forever.

"Dear Lord, what am I getting myself into?" You muttered furiously. Were you really going the extra mile to protect your friends over some gut feelings? You were literally praying to God that you would receive some sort of reserved spot in heaven for the shadow work you were doing. That is until you were interrupted by a somberly slow clap and a couple of shoes that clacked against the stairs above you.

"Wasn't expecting such a plot twist..." Sunoo came into clear view after reaching the final step at the bottom of the staircase. This was now the second time you were caught being heard by people separate from your plan. "So you didn't like Jungwon, but Sunghoon?!" He giggled in interest and cheap pity. He seemed rather thrilled to overhear your bullshit.

"I..." You could not come up with a reply in fear of both outcomes. By telling the truth or carrying out the lie to people, you were putting yourself in a very sticky situation.

"Dahee and Sunghoon were hitting it off so well the other day, it's a shame you're in the way..." Sunoo made an overly exaggerated glum face to piss you off, "You don't actually like him now, do you?" Sunoo caught on to your intentions, circling around you, "You're just doing it to save her, yes?"

You remained silent, causing Sunoo to stop right behind you where you felt the heat of his body getting closer.

"You're a lot smarter than some girls... It's enticing really... Perhaps that's why the boys are so fond of you?" Sunoo snaked around his arm to have the dull edge of his nail touch the flesh of between your jaw and neck. Slowly he etched a line down until it was right against your throbbing pulse.

You pulled away in shock as to how scandalous the act was, "I need to go... I'm supposed to check on Jungwon." You stepped away to face Sunoo in an abrupt manner.

"I heard about Jungwon's situation from Jay," He held the sharpest part of his chin between his index and middle finger, "Jungwon will just continue to get sick. He's so malnourished."

"Malnourished?" You echoed Sunoo.

"He chose to end up like that." Sunoo walked toward you again but this time passing you, with his shoulder slightly bumping yours, "Don't pity him, darling."

You shuddered. Sunoo was the most mysterious with his hints. He was the hardest to read between the lines with. For some reason, only he out of the boys influenced your thinking pattern.

...

After school and a mediocre meal at dinner, you regretted not at least peeping your head by the nurse's office just once that afternoon. Jungwon had probably been released from health watch but you thought you could've come to terms with him that evening. It was unsatisfying as you didn't feel any closure between the war of words you had with him. What wasn't helping was the stress you also had from Sunghoon.

The daylight vanished rather quick in the colder season of the year and dusk approached rather faster than a candle blowout. Since Sunghoon didn't set a specific time, you just headed out with not a glance at the clock. Your guess was to sneak out as soon as the sun came falling down. Due to the hallway monitors of your school during the late evening, it suddenly became an obstacle you had not planned for. You were confused yourself as to how Sunghoon could sneak out at this time of day, surely sneaking out super late at night was possible but not in the evening. Eventually, you took a trip out of a window on the bottom floor of the dormitory to bypass one of the school monitors.

You were well aware of how idiotic you looked running down the concrete steps and toward the very back of your school where the shadows of the forest shined brightly. You didn't see Sunghoon at all insight which was making your heart thump in fear and anger. There was no way this guy was going to set you up like this? You bit around random parts on the inside parts of your mouth as the sky grew darker every few seconds. With no one around and nothing around to do as you waited for Sunghoon, you approached the line between the woods and open grass field. You began to get deja vu of Jungwon which made you nervous as you felt the same wispy grass tickle at your calves.

"You actually came?" Sunghoon's voice rang in the open air from behind you, scaring the literal hell out of you.

"Y-yes I did." You sighed as to how close you were to exploring that forest, "Let's just get to the point." You turned your head back just for him to be in your personal space, you almost lost your balance trying to add some room.

"Walk with me." He ignored your jump into things while crossing the boundary between the skylight of dusk and the darkness of the woods. With hesitation and no clue as to what was about to go down, you followed him. "What did you want to hear from me again?" He asked carelessly with hands in his pockets as he guided you over a pile of soil and dead leaves.

"Kyungeun." You answered bluntly. "Why is she tied down to you?"

"That son of a bitch. She told you, huh?" He rolled his eyes in dear annoyance, "I guess you could say I have some information about her that would totally diminish her image." He kicked and crunched around a couple of leaves as he dragged his feet. You remembered Jaeyun had told you Kyungeun had secrets, perhaps that was it? Were you allowed to ask him about it?

Making a mental note to ask Kyungeun about it later you brisked forward to the next question, "Okay? But you said she'd be of no use to you when you get your hands on Dahee... What exactly did you mean?" Your heart thumped in loud eagerness as you move behind Sunghoon.

"She doesn't taste as good." Sunghoon paused to have you hear him clearly, "Her blood."

Your face heated up, a vibrant blush sparkling your face before the sickening realization hit you, "D-don't tell me..." The horror spreading like wildfire in your body from your head downwards. You were frozen to the very core as all the puzzle pieces came together. All the times including the gash on Kyungeun's neck, the warnings Sunoo gave, and Heeseung licking your hand... It wasn't just Sunghoon who was a vampire, it was all of the boys...

What Sunghoon faced you with a gentle eyes he withdrew the small book from inside his blazer, making your ankles shake. "I suppose you'll know why I took this now." He shook the book before throwing it in front of you with pity. You simply watched the book plop on the bed of dead leaves before your shoes in no ability to process or produce words. You didn't even feel like picking up the book as you were afraid of reading it's horrific contents.

"W-well you won't be getting your hands on Dahee any time soon." You tremble with a paralyzing fear as you tried to speak. You were regretting the bold comment, for fuck sakes the boy standing before you could kill you right then and there.

He stepped closer and closer to which you stepped further and further. "Well, then I guess I'll keep Kyungeun under my power until the day she dies." His scornful laugh made you shudder painfully. In full defeat, you were sincerely helpless. You felt you couldn't run nor report the boys, who would ever believe you? You began questioning how you even got in this position.

"Wh-why does it have to be them? Can't you just live without blood?!" You cried pathetically as you backed into a hard tree.

"And end up like Jungwon?" Delight crept onto Sunghoon's white face as yours grew in confusion, "He hasn't drunk blood in months, he's so weak to the point where he can't even stand sometimes..." Sunghoon went on to speak his mind, "Heeseung and I were convinced he was messing around you for your blood."

Your eyes shot wide open in disbelief, "Well he's clearly not like you if he's abstaining from blood."

"It's true... Something changed in him recently after he started talking to you. Perhaps he has fallen for a mortal?"

"Go to fucking hell." You muttered at a volume that wasn't loud enough for Sunghoon to hear.

"As soon as I sensed your presence that day in the library, I knew you would fall down this rabbit hole." He hummed while bending to have your eyes both at the same level. "Curiosity killed the cat."

You held your tongue with no desire to respond to Sunghoon as the closeness was now more than dangerous. But your muted self only gave Sunghoon the opportunity to proceeded to taunt you. He began caging you against the tree, causing you to press up against the rough wood where you couple feel every detail of the bark on your back.

"I remember Heeseung telling Jaeyun and I about just how good the blood from finger tasted... How about a deal?" He caught your attention as you met eyes with him. A full set of upper teeth being exposed between his rosy lips. If there was one thing you had been taught by the caregivers of your school, it was to never make deals with the devil. You knew exactly what kind of bargin Sunghoon had in store for you "I'll leave your friends in peace if you promise me this," He said with a small lean forward so that his chin rested on your collarbone earning a gasp from you,

"You'll give me your blood in exchange for theirs."

#enhypen au #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ot7 fanfic #jungwon fanfic #yang jungwon fic #heeseung fanfic #lee heeseung fic #jay fanfic #park jongseong fanfic #jake fanfic #sim jaeyun fic #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon fic #enhypen fic #kim sunoo fic #sunoo fanfic #niki fanfic #nishimura riki fic

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moonlitceleste · 3 years

Audio

I highly recommend wearing headphones or earbuds while listening for the full effect! The song used in the audio is Parasite Eve by Bring Me the Horizon; the rock I listen to usually isn't this heavy but this song seemed fitting for the plot.

The audio and story were a bit rushed, and I was also really tired when I wrote this so sorry for any mistakes!

Let me know if you want me to continue making these! They take a long time, so if you enjoy them I’d really appreciate if you interacted with this post :D

The low purr of Jason’s car slowly died as it came to a halt in what was one of Gotham’s considerably least shitty parking lots.

And when he said “least shitty,” he meant it. Nothing in Gotham was good, let alone extraordinary enough to deserve higher praise.

Jason got out of the sleek black vehicle and closed the door, taking care to lock it before he stuffed the keys into the inner pocket of his faux leather jacket.

It was of high quality and material; he wouldn’t have bought it if not for the behest of Tim, but now he admitted the purchase was a good one. A few years ago his younger brother gained rapid interest in someone by the name of MDC; within a day, he easily found out the young designer’s identity and somehow pestered her into taking him on as a client. If Bruce was any indication, he probably left her no choice.

Speaking of the designer, she was partly responsible for his current situation.

A year ago MDC revealed her identity to the public and started to appear by Jagged’s side on tour, both as a designer and a performer. How she managed to do this while running a business and taking commissions, Jason had no idea—but he respected her ability to juggle all that work, especially since she was only a few years younger than him.

(It was worth mentioning that he didn’t learn this all this on his own—between Tim and Dick’s constant discussion of her, the information was practically drilled into his head. They were the fanboys, not him.)

A while after her reveal, Jagged announced he was going on a worldwide tour for the first time in years. It was only natural that one of those stops be his hometown, so the rockstar sent Bruce enough VIP tickets for the whole family and then some—which is why Jason was currently standing in the middle of a kind-of-shitty parking lot.

He hadn’t planned on going to the concert, rather opting to stay at home, go on patrol, and relax with a good book. But his plans fell through with the unusually low crime rate. He circled around various areas multiple times, but the only disturbances he stumbled across were petty thefts. It was as if all the criminals had collectively agreed to stop their plans for the night.

Yeah right, as if they’re all going to attend Jagged Stone’s concert or something.

Jason snorted at the thought.

He shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts to continue walking. He was already an hour late, not that it mattered.

A loud whoop caused him to tense, but Jason relaxed slightly at the sight of a small group.

There were three girls and one boy; none seemed particularly threatening, judging by appearance and gait, but it was Gotham. One could never be too careful.

One of the girls, short-haired and clearly tipsy, slung her arm around a blonde’s shoulders and pulled her in for a sloppy kiss. Their friends chatted loudly beside them, disturbing the relative quiet of the night.

Damn, I’m lonely.

Jason sent a harsh shut up to whatever voice in his head that decided to say that and approached the usher at the booths near the venue entrance.

He showed his pass and was pointed towards his destination, but the directions were unneeded. The booming music and cheers were more than enough to let him know where he was supposed to go.

After pushing past countless bodies and showing his pass to a security guard, Jason finally reached the VIP floor. He tuned out the music, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of his family, and spotted them within a matter of seconds. It wasn’t hard considering how large their group was.

Stephanie was the first to see him. She waved him over while shouting something, presumably his name, and he followed.

Jason winced internally as he sidled up next to them; whoever was stuck behind his 6’4” frame was likely very annoyed.

He took a few seconds to settle in before turning his eyes to what everyone else was looking at.

In the middle of the elevated stage was Jagged Stone, shredding on his guitar and bobbing his head up and down to the beat.

He was costumed in an intricate, eye-catching outfit—quite literally.

The rhinestones on his black jacket caught and reflected the purple lights that shone above, and he shimmered with every movement.

Accessories were piled top to bottom, with his signature black lace gloves only being one of them.

Jason didn’t know much about design, but the outfit came across as intentionally showy rather than garish, which seemed like an impressive feat considering the sheer amount of components included.

Speaking of design, the girl a few feet away certainly didn’t escape his attention.

She was adorned in a short red dress with thin straps, a cowl neck, and a satin material. A leather jacket, combat boots, and the same lace fingerless gloves the older performer was sporting completed the look.

Damn, was the first thought that came to Jason’s mind.

Although he knew better than to underestimate women, he found himself shocked by the powerful vocals that spilled from her mouth. For someone so short, she certainly had a large pair of lungs.

Her voice was a far cry from Jagged’s growls and classic rock screams, but fit in nonetheless.

If anything, it was a light contrast to the heavy-hitting beat and the bass which reverberated through the venue, like how chefs used lemon to cut through the heaviness of a dish.

The way she moved with such poise was captivating, and the smile she wore as she lost herself in the music reeled Jason in.

He could only stare as she belted each note with ease, and the fleeting thought of what she’d look like in his leather jacket passed through his mind.

This train of thought was abruptly cut off as Steph sent a sharp nudge into his side.

Jason looked over, and she started mouthing the lyrics to the song rather aggressively while making exaggerated motions. He assumed this was her way of telling him to start dancing with the crowd.

She looked at him expectantly, to which Jason rolled his eyes, but when she looked away he subtly started moving his feet to the music.

Maybe going to a concert with his family wasn’t so bad—and when he thought of a certain designer, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t grateful for those backstage VIP passes. Now all he had to do was make sure he asked her out before Tim could.

PERMANENT TAGLIST (some of you might not remember asking, but I was reading the comments under my first fic and saw that you asked to be added. if you don’t want to be on the list anymore, just ask and I can take you off!) @avengerthewarrior @bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @too0bsessedformyowngood

#maribat #celestewrites #jasonette #please don't let this flop aksdhsj #cel’s fics

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beelsnack · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! Boys and an Insecure MC

Alternate Title: Coping mechanisms? In my demonic dating sim? It’s more likely than you think.

I honestly didn’t mean for this to be so long, but hey.

CW: Depression, self hatred, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Lucifer: It was subtle, but nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. He saw them fidgeting with their tie before heading to class, watched the frown tug at their lips when all they managed to produce was a rumpled tangle of silk. Caught them poking ruefully at their acne scars in the reflection of their D.D.D. Heard the frustrated sigh as they tried to sit in a way that hid the meat on their abdomen. But, above all, he paid close attention to those comments.

“Wow, I can’t do anything right, can I?”

“You would have to be a professional makeup artist to fix this mess, haha!”

“It’s alright, you can say I’m ugly.”

That was it. Lucifer stood from his seat at his desk, an errant paper fluttering to the ground in his wake. The Firstborn made his way over to where they were sitting, working away diligently on their laptop. Their breath caught in their throat when they turned to face him, and Lucifer fought back a sadistic grin when he felt them shudder at the feeling of his gloved hand sliding beneath their chin. He would file that away for later.

“That’s quite enough.” his voice was low as he lifted their face. They averted their eyes, clearly uncomfortable, but he kept his hand where it was. “Self-deprecation is unbecoming on anyone, but I certainly will not have it marring that beautiful face of yours.”

Nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. Especially not the shy smile they wore as they bade him goodnight.

Mammon: Call him an idiot all you like, but if there was one thing that a solid gambling career had taught Mammon, it was how to read a person’s tells. The way they stood with their arms folded and body turned inward said they were trying to hide. Their habit of avoiding mirrors told him they hated the way they looked. The twinge of resigned sadness on their face when they carefully deflected Asmo’s blatant flirting made it obvious that they thought they didn’t deserve it.

It must have been particularly bad one night. The two of them had made themselves comfortable on the bed in preparation for movie night, but instead of cuddling up next to him like they normally did, they sat far enough away that Mammon had to actually scoot forward to jab them in the shoulder.

“Hey, what gives, human? Why’re you all the way over there?”

“I’m just feeling a little warm.” they shrugged, pulling their knees to their chest. They were trying to pull some reverse psychology bullshit by purposefully staring him in the eye while they lied to him. Mammon snorted.

“You really think you’re going to fool me like that? You’ve got at least a millennia until you can even think of lying to The Great Mammon!” he opened his arms and his voice softened when he spoke. “Come here.”

They hesitated - eyes flicking back and forth between him and a knot in the branches that made up their bed frame, nervous - before they tucked themselves into his waiting arms.

He leaned his cheek against the top of their head, inhaling the sweet smell of their freshly-washed hair and internally purring (maybe externally, but you wouldn’t be able to get him to admit it) when he felt them snuggle in a little deeper and release a pent up sigh.

Mammon stayed silent, absently stroking the back of their neck. Words had probably done the damage, and they definitely weren’t going to fix it. He knew that from experience. But shielding his human from their own poisonous thoughts for a few moments was a good place to start.

Levi: Self-deprecating comments were one of Levi’s main forms of communication. It was a defense mechanism, a low-level shield someone would cast when the enemy was ridiculously OP but the game didn’t give you a retreat option. He knew this mechanic.

But when he heard them use it, it made him angry.

How could someone as amazing as them - smart, pretty, brave, loved gaming, made sure to feed Henry 2.0 when Levi was at a Sucre Frenzy concert - think they were anything less then perfect? No, more importantly, who hurt them so badly that they started thinking that way?

He felt like he did that one time Mammon had dropped one of his limited-edition Ruri-chan figures from a balcony. Someone damaged something precious to him, and he wanted blood.

Of course, that would involve talking about feelings and other mushy, normie stuff, and he just wasn’t ready for that. So, he did the only thing he could think of.

Leviachan: Hey, you down for a raid? There’s this new set of armor - it’s suuuuuuper rare, and you’re the only one good enough to get through the dungeon with me!! Pleeeeaaaassseee?

Satan: These little reading dates had started without him really noticing. One day, the human had came into the library seeking a quiet place to study and finish up their homework. Then, they came in with a human world book that Satan had never heard of tucked under their arm and were more than willing to talk about it. This lead to the two of them huddled on the sofa with their noses buried in the same book, and the human surprising Satan by being able to keep up with his reading speed. And here they were.

Satan had chosen a detective novel that he was positive they would like, and the both of them had taken advantage of a quiet Sunday morning to let themselves get absorbed into the story. Satan had his long arms wrapped around them holding the book, and they were leaning against his chest as they flipped the pages. An easy routine that the two of them had fallen into.

He felt them sigh heavily against him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I just...” they trailed off, gazing out the window at the dusty purple sky before snapping back to the present. “The love interest in this book is amazing. I’m a little jealous of them.”

“Jealous?” Satan echoed, looking down at the small frame curled up in his arms. “Why would you be jealous?”

“They were able to do so much with their life. They’re so young, yet they’ve got their life sorted out, they’re smart, beautiful, charismatic, and they’re confident in themselves despite all the shit people put them through...” they sighed again, and this time Satan heard the note of self-hatred on the exhale. “I can’t do anything like that.”

“Now where did you get that idea?” Satan said incredulously. “In the few months you’ve been here, you have excelled in every class you’ve taken, stood up against all of us in our true forms at least twice each, solved a murder, and convinced me to stop plotting to rip Lucifer’s throat out. All while adjusting to life in a world where most of the citizens could kill you by poking you a bit too hard. I would say that goes above and beyond ‘having your life sorted out.’“

The blush that bloomed across their face was so hot that Satan was able to feel it through his shirt, right next to his heart. He chuckled softly as he bent down to kiss their hair.

“I could write for eons about how amazing you are and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Asmo: Emotions fell right into his area of expertise, and even if they were immune to his charm, Asmo still could smell their emotions like a perfume. And their low self-confidence reeked like rotten fruit. A beautiful arrangement that had been abandoned and left to decay.

The Avatar of Lust was an inquisitive soul (Lucifer would call it being nosy, but whatever.) He was also a firm believer in the theory that you can tell everything you need to know about a person by their skincare routine. So that’s what led to him sneaking into their bathroom while Mammon had dragged them out on one of his stupid get-rich-quick schemes.

“Oh, I don’t think so!” Asmo cried in alarm as he picked up the bottle of human world acne treatment. “They might as well be washing their face with snake venom!”

With a scoff, Asmo kicked the waste basket out from beneath their counter and tossed the face wash in. Bottle after bottle followed it, and Asmo was just about to dump the last bottle of what he assumed was straight rubbing alcohol when he heard the door open.

“Asmo, what the fuck.”

“Darling, we need to have a very serious discussion about your choice in skincare products.” Asmo grimaced as he glanced at the label on the bottle before unceremoniously dropping it into the bottle graveyard. “Can you even pronounce some of these?”

Ah, there it was. The sickeningly sweet smell of self-hatred. Asmo fought the urge to recoil as they practically dove for the trash can.

“Asmo, come on, I have gross skin as it is, don’t take away the only things keeping me from looking like a slice of pizza.”

The sound of glass breaking echoed somewhere in the back of Asmo’s head. That rotten smell was rolling off of them in waves, but he fought off his aversion and knelt down next to them.

They nearly hit the ceiling when Asmo clasped their hands between his own. “Now, now, none of that.”

“None of what?”

Asmo giggled. “You know I wouldn’t bother associating myself with someone unsightly.” one of his hands moved to gently cup their jaw. “You poor thing, you’ve been ruining that lovely face of yours.”

“I didn’t think I could make it any worse.” they muttered, looking away as Asmo stroked a thumb over their cheekbone.

Asmo’s heart clenched, and he leaned forward to kiss them gently on the forehead. “Oh, I can’t stand hearing that kind of talk, especially coming from you. That settles it, then.” he stood with an air of finality.

“Settles what?” they tilt their head in a manner that reminded Asmo of a very adorable puppy.

“We’re going to get you some proper skincare products, and I’m going to spend the rest of the night making you feel like the divine beauty you actually are.”

It was only for a second, but Asmo swore that overpowering smell of rotten fruit was replaced with something just a little fresher.

Beelzebub: Normally, the Avatar of Gluttony wouldn’t complain about someone not eating. More for him. But he didn’t like the way the human was pushing food around their plate without actually eating any of it. They usually loved fried bat wing, too.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, keeping his voice low so his brothers wouldn’t butt in. “Aren’t you hungry?”

They laughed sheepishly, pushing their plate towards him. “Nah, not really. I was snacking all day. Here, you can have it.”

“But I just heard your stomach growl.”

Shame flashed across their face before they looked up at him with a grin that didn’t quite make it to their eyes. “I guess, haha. Just trying to watch my figure, you know?”

Before Beel could swallow down the mouthful of bat wing - when did he even pick it up? They had stood from the table and excused themselves, saying something about having a lot of homework.

It was a few hours before they got back to their room. What had started as them doing their homework in the living room had turned into Mammon begging them to help him study, which then somehow turned to Mammon challenging Satan to a pillow fight. Finally, they had decided to give up and do their homework in their room.

Something delicious wafted out of their room when they opened the door. The source was an overly full plate of food - with extra bat wing, they noticed - sitting on their desk. Blinking in confusion, they shut the door behind them and approached the plate. When they got closer, the note tucked underneath the plate came into view.

Please eat properly. I don’t want you to starve.

-Beel

Belphegor: He never would have called himself needy or touch-starved before. But after spending so long stuck in that attic room with his only interaction being with Lucifer, Belphegor couldn’t seem to get enough physical contact. Especially with the human.

He knew he didn’t deserve their affection, not with how he took advantage of them, manipulated them, murdered them. But the human had enough room in their heart to forgive him, and he would take any ounce of affection they were willing to give.

But it still stung when they flinched.

It was only for an instant, but Belphegor could feel the instinctual tightening of muscles when he draped himself over their shoulder. Feel them jump when he bumped shoulders with them in the hall. Feel their heartbeat speed up when he decided to use them as a body pillow.

“You know you can tell me no, right?” he murmured sleepily as the moment passed and the human settled down.

“Would you stop if I did?”

“Hm...” he hummed, cracking open one amethyst eye to peer at them. “If you don’t like me touching you, why do you let me do it?”

The human sighed, scooting down from their position against their headboard so they were face to face with Belphegor, who still had his hands around their waist like they were a giant teddy bear.

“It’s more like...I can’t believe you want to touch me.”

Now that woke Belphie up - well, as up as he could be while still doing his best impersonation of a koala. “What?”

They laughed, but it sounded strained. “Come on, Belphie, look at me. I’m all...jiggly.”

“So?”

Silence. They looked at him like they were trying to solve a puzzle, and he met their gaze like he was trying to figure out why they couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s not like it matters,” he shrugged, snuggling down into the soft blankets and holding the human a little bit tighter. “I like touching you because you’re you. You being soft and warm is a side benefit.”

“Belphie - “

He yawned, and they genuinely couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. “Shh, I’m going to sleep. You’re my pillow, so don’t talk. Especially if it’s negative stuff like that.”

Honestly, that was the best nap they’d had in a while.

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #honestly this was supposed to be short #I just wanted to write something quick and then this happened

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not-safeforsanders · 4 years

Text

Subjects of the King

Plot: The King has a gift, he can compel other’s to do his bidding but only in his own realm; the imagination, and his subjects have absolutely no issue entering for him to do as he pleases to them. (based off a req by anon!)

Ship: DLAM/King!Creativity

Notes: The King has the equivalent of a Siren’s voice, he can compel other’s to do his bidding (so mind control i guess). Roman and Remus do not exist in this AU.

–

No one really knows why the King is so different from the rest of them, perhaps because he’s much more multifaceted than the other sides and, moreover, the perfect product of imagination. Perhaps it’s because he likes being different enough; he’s neither good nor bad, evil or angelic, a neutral ground with a lot of power.

Like Deceit, he has multiple arms, like Patton he has a soft heart, and like Logan he can be far too blunt at the worst times. Like none of them, he has heterochromia, one eye red and the other a piercing, bright green. His teeth are sharper too, but most of them think it’s a creative flair on his part, after all, he bends the will of the imagination, that’s his job. Still, sometimes he can be imposing, intimidating, he’s tall even if he didn’t live in heels and he chooses not to look much like Thomas. But they all choose not to look like Thomas in their downtime, sometimes they like to change a little; like Logan, who prefers to have blue eyes, or Patton, whose sense of self often outwardly changes how he looks.

At first, Patton was a little out of his depth; he knows that the King can be kind and sometimes he can be a little crude, and it’s that latter side of him that was something that argued with his morality. Yet, as the two of them would say, love prevailed and he grew to accept his partner for who he is.

Virgil, similarly, saw sides to the King that made him a little anxious; creativity can be a powerful force to be reckoned with and that power made the other distance himself from the object of his affection. It took him the longest to start a relationship with the creative facet because of this and they worked through these issues together.

Logan on the other hand was the quickest, although their relationship had not initially been a romantic one. In fact, for once the problem seemed to be in reverse, the King wanted to love Logan but was scared that the logical side couldn’t at all love him back. But he did, he just took his time tiptoeing around the idea first.

Janus had fallen in love with the King before he’d even had a word for such an emotion, they were children or something alike to that in the real world when he’d known he loved the other. It wasn’t until well into their early twenties that the relationship turned anywhere near sexual, the King had his other partners, and Janus did not often entertain the concept of sexual desire.

It was the logical side that had brought the King’s powers to their attention. He’d spent enough time in the imagination with the other to know of his voice, and the compulsion it brings when he wills it to do so. Many a night had been spent on his knees for his lover, for his King, and that was simply how he enjoyed it.

When he’d mentioned it in passing, over a conversation at dinner, the creative side had stiffened uncomfortably and Logan realised that he hadn’t been as forthcoming with the other’s as he had with Logan. He bit his lip, thinking perhaps he was in trouble, by the expressions on people’s faces. “Sorry,” Logan mutters, realising that the other sides were now staring at him and with various expressions between confusion and something not unlike fear. “It’s consensual, of course, I didn’t think that it would be an issue!” He hadn’t even considered that they would take an issue. The first time it had been used on him was to calm him down from a panic attack, not a sexual need at all, but his mind had wandered as Logan’s often does.

“As long as it’s consensual then there is no issue,” Janus reassured his partner calmly, resting a gloved hand on Logan’s back “No issue,” he repeats firmly, his gaze a little pointed as he looks to the other sides, his eyes flickering to a clearly distressed Logan. The King dug into his food and avoided everyone else’s gaze for the rest of breakfast.

It surprises him a little, later on in the day, when Janus shows up at his door with a jittery but excited expression on his face “I’m absolutely not at all interested in your special powers,” He blinks at his own words for a moment, “I mean…”

“I know, darling,” The King chuckles “Are you sure?” He holds out his hand and Janus takes it without hesitation, the trust in the gesture making hypothetical roses bloom in his lover’s chest. “Very well then,” The King leads his partner into his room and explains to him how everything works “You will say stop when you want to stop,” It’s a demand, not a question, and the way it settles in Dee’s mind has him shivering in anticipation. “Kneel, Janus,” His knees hit the ground like his body is puppeteered by something that isn’t him, and the shiver that trips down his spine is enticing. “Tell me what you want,”

“I want your cock in my mouth,” he blurts, his eyes going wide by how simply that came out, without resistance, without panic or rethinking or rephrasing. It makes him feel free. His mouth hangs open as the King undoes his trousers, pushing them out of the way, and presses the tip in Janus’ mouth.

“Keep your hands in your lap, use your mouth only,” Janus does as he’s told (not that he has much of a choice), taking him down his throat easily, moving his head along the shaft in repetitive motions. He gags a few times, saliva dripping down his chin and along the other’s cock, but he doesn’t want to stop at all. He keeps going until his King moans his name and presses his cock deep into his throat so that he chokes a little, filling him with cum. “You can move your hands and legs now,” the King utters as Janus begins to cough, tears in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Great, sick, both,” he coughs, swallowing the cum as best as he can. “I loved it,” The king bites his lip a little.

“You did?”

“Maybe not too often though, I like having control,” he stands shakily and the other presses a soft kiss to his lips. He knows that Janus likes control, he’s been on the receiving end of it one too many times; their relationship has always been about balance, unlike Logan who seeks to be controlled on every occasion, Janus has different moods which are just as pleasant to the King.

“Shall we cuddle, watch a movie?” Janus nods with a smile, following after his lover.

–

Patton’s next, he slides into the room looking a little shy as he shuffles from one foot to another. The King raises his eyebrows a little, a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other as the other man walks further into the room. Janus he’d sort of expected, Patton…not at all. Patton always took the dominant role in their relationship, it makes him feel the most secure, the idea of the moral side wanting to experience his voice seemed utterly strange to him. “I’m curious,” he says, with a slight tremble in his voice “But would I be able to say stop if I want to?” The King places the book and glass on the bedside table, moving to stand up and approach the other man.

“It’s the first command I always give, but you can still speak under my commands anyway if it’s not specifically your words I demand, I just like to make sure that that stays at the forefront of your mind so that the second you panic you can be released from the spell.” Patton takes a deep breath and nods.

“Okay then, I want to try it.” The King nods and takes his hand, leading him to the bed, he, himself sits down, but Patton stands between his legs, looking somehow smaller in this position.

“Tell me, exactly, what you want from me,”

“I want to fuck you and have no control over it.” Patton’s hand clasps over his mouth, eyes wide and cheeks flushing red. The King grins a little, yes that seems to be a common response at this point, embarrassment, having your desires pulled from you unfiltered can be surprising, he supposes, he knows there’s a lot he wouldn’t want to spill in that sense.

“Very well, Patton, if you wish to stop at any point, you will say stop.”

It’s a little bit of a process, they undress each other without the control of his voice because some things feel too sacred at the moment to really lose, and one of those things is the act of kissing Patton like he’s something much more delicate than he’s about to discover himself to be, pulling clothes off of each other with a warm sort of desperation, not unlike the frenzy of opening a gift with no idea what the contents were (except the contents are always each other, and that’s so much better than a surprise).

He let’s Patton prep him without the voice too, because he knows that this is something he’s very much anxious about screwing up even without it being a controlled experience, he always wants to make sure he’s okay, that he’s safe, that he can take it. The King can always take it, the inside of his mind is a much darker place than he likes to admit, and his injuries heal very quickly.

It’s not until Patton sinks into him with that quiet sharp inhale he always gives the first time, trembling with pleasure, and after he’s adjusted, that he’s got used to it and the waves of anxiety have drained away, that the King says it: “Fuck me how you really want to fuck me.” The darkness in Patton’s eyes almost swallows him, his hands find the other’s wrists, pinning them down with all his strength, he drags his hips out and slams into the other man.

The King moans loudly, his eyes falling shut as the other fucks him, and really fucks him too, in a way that sweet little Patton was always far too nervous to do, but the way his desires had always begged of him. He keeps going over and over, hard, fast, hot and a spark of anger in his eyes.

So that’s the inside of morality’s soul, a corrupt little deviant just like the rest of them.

Patton’s nails dig into his wrists. “Kiss me,” the King demanded, voice choked, Patton does, hard and bruising, his teeth sinking into the other man’s lip until he gasps in pain and a hint of blood transfers between their mouths. The pain shoots through him in a euphoric fashion, gasping between their mouths as he tastes his own blood “Don’t stop,” he manages out, the air practically knocked from his lungs with each thrust as his nails dug into his own palms. He doesn’t even realise there are tears in his eyes until he’s cumming between their bodies so hard he’s scared he might actually blackout for a second. The King takes a deep shuddery breath as Patton keeps going, pressing deep into him in a way that makes him writhe from the overstimulation until the other is climaxing, his cock twitching inside his lover as he finally starts to still, taking deep breaths. “You can stop now, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Patton releases his wrists and he wraps his arms around the other man, whose eyes close almost immediately, tears pricking in his eyes as he comes down from his high.

“Are you okay?” Patton asks, voice catching in his throat.

“Never better.”

“Are you hurt, are you…?”

“I’m okay Pat, look at me, I’m okay,” his lip is bleeding and there are stray tears tracking his cheeks, but he’s smiling, cheeks flushed as he grins up at his lover. “I loved every second,”

“Promise?”

“Of course.” He leans up to kiss the other sweetly, Patton winces as he tastes the drying blood. “It was wonderful, you know how I can be sometimes darling, a good fuck is always a positive experience.”

“Still I really thought I was going to hurt you at one point, but you were enjoying it.”

“You could rip my heart out of my chest and take a bite, and I’d only thank you,” Patton chuckles softly, his cock sliding out of the King as he leans down to kiss him gently, sweetly, his brain still adjusting to the return to reality and outside of his rougher desires. He lies down next to the other, both a little sticky and sweaty as their fingertips intertwine. “I adore you.”

“And I, you.”

–

Virgil is the one that says no. “I just don’t think I could do it, you know?” he scratches his arms anxiously, an action that has his partner’s hands resting over his own “I need…control over myself, without it I just spiral.”

“That’s perfectly fine my love, there’s no need to try anything that you have no desire to.” The King leans down and kisses him sweetly. “I thought you might not want to, if I’m honest, it doesn’t seem like it would be in anyway beneficial to you, and could indeed trigger a spiral of emotions.” Virgil relaxes a little and wraps his arms around the other “I understand, don’t you worry about that in the slightest.”

“Promise?”

“I promise you, I’m not upset.” Virgil nods and buries his face in the other’s chest, taking a deep inhale.

“I heard Patton wrecked you pretty good though,” his usual teasing tone comes through. “Well, the entire mindscape heard that.”

“Eavesdropping are we?”

“You’re not at all as quiet and suave as you think you are.” The anxious side laughs and takes his hand “I’ll even prove that too you if you like?” his mischievous grin has the other man sighing and shaking his head, as he allows himself to be pulled by the hand towards his bed one last time for the week.

#not safe for sanders

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mira--mira · 3 years

Note

One obvious for the ask game. The main protagonist; Naruto Uzumaki and Izuku Midoriya.

@shiryusamarkanda it’s so nice to hear from you again! <3

I totally didn’t forget to post this and had it fully finished in my drafts for days...totally.

Naruto

What I love about them:

Naruto's a bratty kid who’s not afraid to speak up and challenge something he thinks is "wrong". This, of course, is part 1 Naruto. I actually like when he's a bit insensitive without being explicitly malicious bc its very fitting for his background/how he grew up but also gives him a clear path forward as he learns how to work as a team/starts to grow. It wasn’t exactly a smart move, but I really liked how he continued to challenge Zabuza in the Wave Arc saying “he’s still my enemy” after Kakashi told him to back off. This is all good and strong characterization that, to me, was more often endearing than it wasn’t. Naruto had goals and a purpose and in early Naruto that was still clear.

What I hate about them:

Part 2 (Shippuden) Naruto. There’s a lot that goes into this but the core deviation is getting away from the underdog story. In Shippuden Naruto is the son of the 4th, the Child of Prophecy, a reincarnation of the Sage of Six Path’s kid, makes friends with Kurama, and has the most OP power of the them all: Talk no Jutsu. What makes all of this even worse is Naruto went from a loveable bratty kid to an insufferable messiah figure. To be “perfect” his natural personality is shorn down until he’s only allowed occasional “stupid” mistakes rather than mistakes that emerge from his characterization. This also makes his ideological “wins” with villains...completely meaningless. Shippuden Naruto doesn’t really...have beliefs. He wants to be hokage and bring Sasuke back to the village. “Being hokage” was fine as a kid but I expected the progression into shippuden to be “what kind of hokage do I want to be?” This seemed natural bc we get in the Wave arc Naruto pushing against “what a shinobi is supposed to be: a tool” from Haku and declaring he’d make his own ninja way. Flashforward to the chunin arcs: hates Orochimaru for messing with Sasuke (esp when he eventually leaves to join him) and Neji for treating Hinata the way he did until he learned more about the Hyuga before declaring it wasn’t fair and you had to fight against fate and destiny. Tsunade’s arc was more about reemphasizing the village was something worth protecting and the Sasuke retrieval arc, while focused on Sasuke, at least kept up this theme. But these moments of growth are only alluded to in shippuden and by the time the war arc and ending come around...nothing changes. Naruto didn’t upset the status quo, he only maintained it. And once that ending was established it was a lot easier to go back and pick out exactly when his characterization started to fall through and the weird messiah figure took over instead. Part of this, imo, is the focus of his ultimate goal being “bring Sasuke back to the village” rather than understand what Sasuke is doing/why he’s doing it and then deciding to help him or stop him.

Favorite Moment/Quote:

“You’re cute when you’re chubby” [in reference to the frog purse]

I really love the quiet moments Naruto has and watching him live out his daily life. The frog purse is absolutely adorable and I love seeing it crop up time and time again. A close second is when Gai kicks Jiraiya in the face and, a short time later, offers Naruto the green tracksuit which he’s appreciative of.

What I would like to see more focus on:

In Part 2 Naruto having a long-term goal alongside bringing Sasuke back to the village or trying to seriously think about why Sasuke does what he does and how that would potentially affect the plot. If I could go back to the very start, keeping the actual heart and intent of an underdog ninja story rather than everything turning into superpowered mecha/kaiju battles and aliens from space this is the big point that I’d want to address. In general, I really like fics that focus on training and give him a range of jutsu besides spamming shadow clones and rasengan variants. I’ve said this before, but if Naruto really wants to keep the “number 1 unpredictable ninja” moniker, learning a variety of small, diverse jutsu and using them in interesting/creative ways would be the way to go rather than spamming the aforementioned two. I also really like fics that buckle down and just go ham and create their own variety of jutsu, especially if it’s small practical jutsu rather than the latest and greatest OP Power #839281 kind of jutsu.

What I would like to see less focus on:

The messiah figure. Talk no Jutsu. The obsession with having a morally pure hero in a world that routinely employed child soldiers and put them in war. I understand Naruto was a shonen manga first and foremost but like...this was the setting/world Kishimoto decided on having. However, I will say some fics take it to far on the other extreme for my taste, creating a edgy nihilistic Naruto that hates everyone and everything.

Favorite pairing with:

Uhh...I don’t actually have a strong feeling for this one LOL. The most I’ve read has been SasuNaru (Sasuke x Naruto) because I’ve found really interesting set-ups. I like the ship and it does have a decent amount of backing in canon but it’s the little moments (or my ability to see possible little moments) that really make or break a ship for me. SasuNaru is all Big Declarations and I struggle to see how they’d actually settle down post Shippuden time into something sustainable. My favorite iterations of the ship is focused when they’re genin age and have a better relationship...but then I recognize that this is getting closer and closer to Hashimada. The other big things I run into with shipping Naruto with Sasuke is 1. Sasuke needs a shit ton of therapy/willingness to process his family related trauma and 2. Naruto needs a good support network/family outside of a romantic partner because it personally makes me uncomfortable to read ‘you’re my one and only’ (here being: I have no other friends, family, loved ones outside of you). It’s a ship that can work but it’s not my personal OTP.

Favorite friendship:

Canon/OoT - Naruto & Sakura

I do have a softspot for fics where Naruto realizes his crush on Sakura is actually a desire to have friends/someone to care about him and then they do become close. In canon Sasuke was clearly the favorite of Kakashi (if chunin arc is kept the same/similar and he takes him away for the month to train) I really like Naruto and Sakura sticking together and trying to help each other. They’re both loud and can wind each other up but Naruto can help Sakura relax a bit from her rigid view of herself and she can help keep him on track/encourage him.

NOTP:

Again, no real strong opinions here. Probably harems? I remember seeing a lot of those a couple years ago and I fundamentally dislike the harem so it will never be ‘done well’ to my personal taste.

Favorite headcanon:

Naruto is smart, he just needs things to be explained in a way he can understand.

I’m not a fan of ‘he’s the smartest person in the entire world’ trope but Naruto is creative, he created the oiroke jutsu before he graduated to genin and has a lot of stubborn determination. He’s just really bad at typical ‘book learning’ and traditional testing and he’s not a genius/prodigy like Sasuke or Neji.

Read line for BNHA manga spoilers

Izuku

What I love about them:

He’s such a smart kid and while he’s unsure/insecure about himself he still does his best. Honestly the premise of BNHA is amazing and I was so excited to watch this little quirky (heh) boy do his best and outthink heroes, utilizing his intelligence and knowledge of quirks. I really love early Izuku and how he has to approach situations from a different angle bc he grew up quirkless/can’t properly handle OFA. The sports festival arc remains one of my personal favorites and really showed his ingenuity. I also really love that Izuku is openly emotional, he cries, he gets super happy about things, he’s angry, he’s sad, etc.

What I hate about them:

Why do stories insist on calling themselves “underdogs” when for a majority of the time, they’re not? Or not as much as they would be from the original premise? Look, TDP came about exactly bc BNHA was billed as ‘quirkless boy becomes number 1 hero’ it changed rapidly into ‘Izuku gets the strongest quirk but can’t control it’ and while I was...disappointed with that, it happened so quickly I wasn’t really upset. Fast forward to apparently OFA has...what seven(?) quirks inside it and I just...it’s frustrating. Even more the longer we go the more Izuku strays away from a character that is forced to use his intelligence and creatively outthink his opponents and instead becomes...I just have to hit him harder! The Muscular fight already inched towards this but the Overhaul fight just felt like Super Shonen Smack-down 728329. Which, isn’t an inherent problem, it just doesn’t match up to the expectations I had about BNHA I had at the start and how I hoped the series would go. For a character trait that I hate: Izuku is stupidly self-sacrificing. It makes sense with his character but he shoots beyond what is safe and reasonable and I wish there would be more internal emphasis on the question “is it better to save one person today if it meant I couldn’t save ten people tomorrow?” I think he’d choose the former or forsake the question altogether (we touched briefly on this during the overhaul arc with Eri) but I think it’s a serious question needs to be touched on (or I just need to go back and rewatch things again LOL)

Favorite Moment/Quote:

See entire sports festival arc. I don’t really have a favorite moment because I love the entire arc and we get so much out of it.

What I would like to see more focus on:

Quirkless Izuku. There’s already a lot of fics, but I really do love them. It deviates a bit, but I do like the creativity of giving Izuku his own unique quirk and then exploring what he can do with that/how it changes canon. Really I want Izuku to keep his original characterization and not trade his smarts for more punching power or deus ex machinas for quirks hidden inside of OFA. If OFA!Izuku is kept, I like story ideas where he still has to rely on means outside of his quirk. Preferably this is isn’t because he injuries himself so much, but I like toying with the idea that Izuku never gets OFA to All Might’s level so he really does have to make the quirk his own and still rely heavily on his intelligence and quirk journals to become the number 1.

What I would like to see less focus on:

Quirks hidden inside OFA. Strength should have been enough, it was already billed as the most powerful quirk of all. I know this is a common theme for shonen stories, and I don’t mean to harp specifically on Izuku, but again the premise of BNHA was an underdog story.

Favorite pairing with:

Tododeku (Todoroki Shouto x Midoriya Izuku)

Friends to lover and battle couples lads, I am weak to them. I like the contrast between their personalities as well as origins (Shouto being the number 2′s (now 1) kid and Izuku from a quiet civilian background). At the end of the sports festival arc both of them are extremely well characterized and it’s easy for me to imagine how their relationship progresses from there and how they can support each other and help each other grow. It’s a very sweet and wholesome ship the way I write and read it and it’s v cute.

Favorite friendship:

Canon- Midoriya Izuku & Uraraka Ochaco & Iida Tenya

I really like the core trio and think their interactions are really sweet. They balance each other out well and their friendship was immediately believable to me. I also like later when Tsuyu and Shouto start to get included in the group and out of the “main” core friends I’m endlessly entertained whenever Izuku and Tokoyami interact with one another. (This is also because I love my bird son, but you know.)

TDP - Midoriya Izuku & Ashido Mina or Midoriya Izuku & Hatsume Mei

Really, I love all of TDP’s kiddos interactions. Their chemistry is one of my favorite things about the fic and all the villain school kiddos meshed really well and had hilarious interactions. Mina and Mei are my faves but just barely. Mina came out of left field for the fic but she plays a similar role that Ochaco does in canon as a usual source of positivity (but unlike Ochaco with additional chaos). She’s Izuku’s first real friend even before starting HIVVE and wouldn’t hesitate to call Izuku her cousin as she views him as family. In return, Mina’s someone Izuku can completely count and depend on if necessary. Mei is...Mei. Izuku is her best “useful customer” and it’s actually terrifying how similar their thoughts are, just Mei has an (un)healthy dose of Hazmat’s insanity and her own business acumen added into the mix. They have slightly different fields of interest but are intellectual equals that work well together and that’s something new to both of them.

NOTP:

Bakudeku (Bakugo Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku)

It’s unhealthy. Unless it’s an AU that changes what the start of their relationship is like, Bakugo and Izuku will always have a toxic friendship to me and I can’t ever see them in a healthy relationship. Both of them have a lot to learn and I am of the opinion that Bakugo should get the opportunity to grow and become a good person and leave behind his past as a bully. However, I’m also of the opinion that no matter how good of a person a bully becomes their victim is never required to absolve them of past wrongdoings. Izuku and Bakugo were friends once, their relationship turned toxic, and now it’s in the interest of both of them to grow apart from one another. I even hesitate to really say they’ll be friends again because the early characterization of their relationship was so imbalanced to me, but for the right author and the right work I may see them being on good terms. It’s still a romantic relationship that I dislike.

Favorite headcanon:

Crack headcanon? Izuku does have a natural quirk, the force of his tears is clearly superpowered 😂 Regular headcanon, (that is canon in TDP and kindaaa in regular canon(?)) when Izuku gets really engrossed in a super stressful fight he focuses on what will work rather than what is moral. It has...mixed results.

For the ask game.

#shiryusamarkanda #naruto #bnha #mha #naruto uzumaki #izuku midoriya #my fics #the diverging path #out of time #spoliers #bnha manga spoliers #asks

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lovehugsandcandy · 4 years

Text

One-on-One: Rematch (Part 1)

A/N: So this is getting out of control...what started as fulfilling a prompt that no one actually asked me for has turned into...this, a continuation on the Colt!basketball player/MC!cheerleader nonsense because why not? This is the first of four parts. (First story here)

Pairing: Colt x MC, ROD

Length: ~4,500 words

Rating: N*FW (Sex. Swearing.)

Summary: When Langston made it to Nationals, Ellie planned on spending the entire time studying in her room. It didn’t end up quite as planned.

Ellie perched on the edge of her bar stool, hand locked around a glass of ice water, toes tapping nervously against the floor. She never did this.

The plan had always been to use this time to study. Ingrid was psyched about their trip, chattering nonstop about the massive intercollegiate parties and the freedom to fraternize with the players. Ellie listened, dutifully; however, she had planned on avoiding it all, venturing out only for games and meals, living in her headphones and studying under the covers to dig into the obscure theorems and formulas required in upper-level classes.

But now?

She shifted in her seat, keeping the sliding door leading to the hotel lobby visible in the corner of her vision; she sat straighter when she saw familiar red-and-gold uniforms streaming through. Pivoting, she tracked their path, players filing through the hallway in clumps of two and three, lugging packed gym bags over broad shoulders. She waited, eyes narrowing, and finally, there.

At the end of the line, gesturing pointedly at a piece of paper in front of him, she caught a familiar stride, long legs carrying a recognizable head of black hair and a pair of mischievous eyes. She hid a fond smile behind her glass. If there is anything she learned about Colt once he friended her on Picta, it was that he took the strategy behind the game more seriously than the actual game play. Whereas his teammates would be in the gym, perfecting bench presses and layups, Colt spent most of his time watching tape, designing play upon play that tactically attacked his opponents’ weaknesses. She internally wondered if he enjoyed the mental plotting more than being on the court.

He jabbed at the paper again, finger tracing an determined path as two other players listened intently. She tilted her head, trying to follow his path towards the elevators through the crush of the crowd as athletes, spectators, and cheerleaders, everyone flitting around in the buzz of finally being at the playoffs. Eventually, his gaze left the paper, and he glanced about; the smirk on his face when they locked eyes sent heat to her cheeks.

She waited as he spoke to his teammates and then pushed his way through the crowd, eyes trained on her with every step. He stopped before her with a grin. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You told me to meet you.”

“Do you always do what people tell you to?”

She had a thousand retorts on the tip of her tongue, ranging from sarcastic to flirty to downright indecent, but before her brain settled on one, a harsh voice cut through the lobby. “Kaneko! What are you doing? Let’s go!”

He glanced behind him, face pulling into a frown, but turned back again, pressing thin plastic into her palm.

“What’s this?”

“1512.”

“What?” She looked down to find a hotel key.

“1512.”

She blinked. “Is this an open invitation?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.”

Oh my God, she didn’t know if she wanted to smack the smirk off his face or kiss it.

“Kaneko, let’s go!” He sighed, and the frown on his face was a curious mix of haughty and regretful.

“You gonna come?”

“I…” she glanced behind him, where the rest of his team crowded around the elevator.

He smirked and leaned down, hands warm even through her jeans, breath whispering over her lips. “Just come on. Open invitation, ok?”

Her eyes fluttered. He was so close that she saw each individual lash surrounding his eyes, trace his tongue dipping out to wet his lower lip. She had to focus, tighten her fingers so her drink didn’t plummet to the floor. “Ok.” She could do nothing but agree, not when he looked at her like that.

His answering grin made her stomach swoop as he straightened, shooting her a wink before he turned to jog back to his teammates.

Shaking her head, Ellie turned back around to place her glass on the bar. What was she thinking?

~~~~~

“You sure you don’t wanna go out?”

“No thanks, I’m good.” Ellie read the same sentence over again. When the uncertainty in a particle’s position is multiplied by the uncertainty in momentum, its value cannot be greater than half H-bar. She frowned; this was why she hated particle dynamics. You can’t tell both the speed and location of a particle simultaneously? She internally scoffed. Bullshit. She had always known exactly where she was going. Langston University, 4 years. PhD program at Yale, 6 years, followed by a postdoc before moving back to LA for a tenure-track research position. She had detailed out this path the day she won her seventh-grade science fair; in the years since, she had never wavered, never veered. Why was it so hard to do that with particles?

“Really, El?” Ingrid ducked out of the bathroom to study her, fiddling with an earring. “You seem...off.”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

Ellie sighed; she wouldn’t have been convinced either. “I’m good, really.” Her hands tightened around the textbook in her lap. “We have a game tomorrow night. I’m just gonna study and go to sleep early.”

“Ok. I’ll be quiet when I come back.” Ingrid grinned wickedly. “If I come back.”

Ellie flushed but didn’t reply, only giving a quick wave as her roommate headed out the door. She read the sentence again. What was Planck’s constant again? She should know this by heart; she shouldn’t be so jittery, fidgeting and glancing at her purse every three seconds. It was there, a tiny rectangle nestled between flash cards and a folded-up game schedule; for a cheap strip of plastic, it was distracting, calling to her, a siren song far more compelling than quantum mechanics.

Fine.

She stood, closing the book and silently tucking it under her covers. Ingrid’s footsteps faded down the hall, followed by the ding of the elevator and then blessed silence. Ellie knew exactly where she was going and how fast; a quick detour to the room of a blindly attractive basketball player wouldn’t change anything. Quickly, she stripped, bundling her pajamas under her bed on the off chance she wasn’t home before Ingrid, throwing on street clothes and triple-checking her purse for the plastic key card. It gleamed, reflecting the light as if taunting her, conspicuously out of place among the detritus of her carefully crafted life.

He was two floors above her but she took the stairs, cautiously listening before turning the corner between floors. Thankfully, it was silent; apparently the parties were somewhere else tonight, even the hallway deserted as she walked, never-ending carpet empty and dulling her steps as she sidled up to the door.

1512. She stood for a minute, heart hammering in her chest, before gathering every speck of courage; her fingers shook as she put the key in the slot. The light turned green, and, with a tiny ding, she was in.

She pushed the door open, peering curiously inside before she stepped forward, but it was just a normal room, the mirror image of hers and Ingrid’s. The walls were drab, painted a dull beige and decorated by inoffensive pastoral photographs that contrasted with the emerald carpet under her toes. There were two beds, one covered in clothes and a familiar red-and-gold jersey, facing a large flat screen. It was almost exactly the same as her room. The only notable difference was standing in front of the window, phone to his ear; however, he obviously wasn’t focused on the conversation, not with the way his mouth hung open, gaping at her.

She waved, and her awkward hands closed the door behind her.

“Hey, yeah.” Colt spoke into the phone, rushed, low. “Ok.. Listen, I gotta-I gotta go… Yeah, yeah. Ok. Bye.” He turned to her but his phone rang almost immediately, shrill tone cutting the silence of the room; with an annoyed glance, he hit some buttons, randomly, and the phone went flying as he kept his eyes trained on her.

She stepped forward, letting out the breath it seemed she had held since she left her room. “Hi.”

“Hi.” The smirk was back, surprise all but gone as he watched her pad into the room. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Again,” she ground out, “you invited me.”

“I’m glad you took me up on the invitation.”

She dropped her purse on the bed that held the familiar uniform. “I was studying but got bored.”

“Ouch. You wound me.” She felt the sarcasm dripping from his words. “Had I known I was just a way to pass the time, I wouldn’t have given you a key.”

“You would have.”

“Maybe.” He stepped closer, smirk never wavering. “You come to give me my prize?”

“Your… your what?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you were gonna give me a kiss if we won Nationals.”

“Excuse me?” she scoffed, mouth dropping open. “You haven’t won anything yet.”

“But we will. We’re 2-to-1 favorites. It would take a catastrophe for us to lose.”

Ellie knew all of this. She had been reading up on the playoffs and the predictions and the certain specific players whose breakout sophomore year included a 30 point victory when she was too focused on thermodynamic driving force to even notice the game unfolding. “Well, you haven’t won yet.”

“We will.”

“You just want me to kiss you.”

“Obviously.” He blinked and the warmth in his eyes softened, minutely, so subtly that she would have missed it had he not been merely a breath away. “You can call it a loan.” He blinked at her underneath lush lashes.

“A loan? Really,” she sneered, stepping even closer to watch his eyes zero in on her lips.

“Sure. I’m good for it.”

She trailed her nails through his hair before pulling him closer. “I charge interest.”

“Of course you do.” She could feel the words across the bow of her lips and then, finally, they were kissing, his hands skating down her back to cup the curve of her ass. He pulled back, smirking. “You didn’t wear the skirt.”

“Is that all you think about?”

“Oh, no.” The next instant, his hands cradled her thighs, and she was up, weightless in the air before falling onto the stiff hotel blanket. She had to smile; the bed under her was still made, sheets at sharp lines and right angles, but the boy above her was anything but proper, eyes wild, lips curving in devious intent as he stared down at her. “I think about a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“How you look out of these clothes.” He ducked his head so his teeth found her neck. “How it sounds when you say my name.” His mouth trailed higher, and he reached down to trace a determined hand up her inner thigh. “How you fucking feel when I-”

Her hands found the solid muscle of his chest and she pushed, hard, straddling his hips when he landed flat on his back. “Are you always so mouthy?”

She immediately realized her mistake when he opened his mouth, laugh lines dimpling his face, and immediately closed it again.

“I mean…”

“I feel like you’re setting me up.”

“Ugh. Is there any way to shut you up?”

“Multiple,” he laughed and pulled her down, meeting her lips with teeth and tongue until she rolled her hips reflexively; he only bit deeper divots into plush skin, tightening the hand on her thigh so she felt every single digit digging through her jeans deep into her thigh. Her fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, pulling roughly up to expose tight muscles too sculpted to be real. He wasn’t huge or beefy, but every inch of skin lay upon corded muscles, abs clearly defined as her fingers traced them inch-by-inch. “You admiring the view or something?” he sassed.

“You are so... fucking… annoying.”

He laughed, eyes shining, and returned the favor, throwing her shirt across the room, bra quickly following as callused fingers tweaked a nipple. “Come here, come here,” he all but commanded and she could only comply, meeting his mouth for a kiss that ended any lingering doubts in her mind. She was draped over him, nipples peaking as they grazed over the planes of his chest, and sparks burned their way up her spine.

He popped the button of her jeans, one-handed, and she broke the kiss to wriggle out of the rest of her clothes, grinding her hips. She felt the thick line of his cock through his shorts, right where she was boiling hot, and his choked off moan let her know that he could feel every single movement.

She felt frantic, weightless, desperate. She could only kiss him, furiously, as he shimmied the rest of his clothes off. He was so warm under her, skin laid bare underneath her as his hands drew sigils of fire down her thighs, up her back. She couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to, her plans of studying, her common sense, her mind completely gone as she lifted her hips, a quick pivot, and then she was sliding down as he moaned into her mouth.

“Oh fuck, you feel-” The curse was bitten off, thickly rolling from his tongue, but the note of praise was there, awe seeping into his voice. His hands grasped at her hips, holding her in place as his chest heaved as if he had just gone rounds on the court. “Goddamn.”

She rocked her hips tightly, solely to see the flash of pure pleasure fly across his features. Hell, he felt good, just as good as three weeks ago, hiding in a tiny locker room shower stall. But here, they didn’t have to hide, and she was free to slide up and down his length with abandon, moving her hips so it hit the exact right spot inside her. Her toes curled.

He traced a hand down her stomach before it ducked into her folds. The praise continued. “Ellie, fuck, you look so amazing riding me, fuck.” His thumb drew circles around her clit and she fell forward, barely catching herself as shivers started up and down her spine. “You feel so fucking incredible, God-” he breathed, eyes trained on where their bodies came together, heat of his eyes burning through her core.

She could barely hold herself up, nails digging crescents into his chest, and she was sure that the red marks in the tight muscles would last until his quarterfinal match. She hoped he would feel them on the court, a distracting ache when he was taking a shot or blocking a pass. Her hips moved faster. “Colt, fuck, Colt, I need-”

He surged off the bed to pull her closer with a weighty palm curving at the small of her back, rocking up into her with abandon. It took three more thrusts, hips slamming together once more as he found that spot inside her, and the room exploded, her body quaking as she fell apart, clinging to his shoulders, the only solid thing in a room where everything was moving and shaking in pleasure so strong that she had to close her eyes lest the wave carry her away.

She slid onto the bed, limbs weak. Or perhaps she was on top of Colt? It was hard to tell as the world got hazy. Everything-her mind, her limbs, her sense of time passing-everything was wrapped in fragile gauze, warm and light.

She should return to her room... but her limbs wouldn’t work, muscles laden and slow. It was easier to just lay here, just for a minute. Maybe it was the sex, but she felt good, relaxed, at ease.

She had seriously planned on reviewing the Heisenberg uncertainty principle again.

She was going to.

She was totally going to head back.

But after they showered together, where Colt had proven his absolute inability to keep his hands to himself and used soap-slick arms to ease her onto the floor, water raining over his head as his tongue drew shapes that made her legs tremble, and after they fell into bed, wrapped in plush towels that quickly found their way to the carpet as her fingers clamped onto the headboard and his hips drove into hers so quickly that she lost her voice, barely able to push air from her lungs as he moved just so, just right to make light flare behind closed eyelids, after, well, it was all hazy.

She had planned on returning to her room.

She had.

But somehow, she was sprawled over him, limbs heavy with exhaustion, and nose digging into his chest. Every breath smelled like nondescript hotel soap, clean scent utterly at odds with the dirty deeds this room had seen. His hands traced down her spine as she murmured into his skin. “Who were you on the phone with?”

“Hmm?“

“Earlier. When I came in.”

“Oh. My mom,” he said sheepishly. “She wanted to come watch the games, but she had to work.”

“Aw, are you a momma’s boy?”

“What?!? I would definitely not say that.”

“I bet she had her hands full with you.”

“She’s the reason I play ball; she’s the one that got me into it.”

“Really?”

“She was desperate for something to get my aggression out, give me something to do. She also thought I needed practice working with others, being part of a team, some shit like that. Soccer? Fucking boring. I was downright brutal in football. In hockey, I once tried to slice someone with the edge of my skate and you definitely don’t want to see me with a baseball bat. Basketball just seemed to fit.”

“She’s probably proud of you.”

“Ha. I doubt that very much.” He rolled his eyes. “How about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your family.”

She looked out the window at the moon, crawling through the sky. “Hmm... It’s only me and my dad. My mom died when I was 13, so it’s been only the two of us forever. He’s a little... overprotective.”

“What do you mean?” His hand started running comforting circles around her shoulder blades; she edged closer.

“You know, typical story. Only daughter. He had a lot of trouble letting go. He’s a detective too, LAPD, so he was always petrified I would end up on one of those unsolved crime channels.”

“Daughter of a cop, eh?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, glancing up at him. “So that made it worse. He barely gave me any freedom, and I decided I would get away as far as I could.”

“You sure attending the best college in the US didn’t have something to do with it?”

“Well... that too.”

“I didn’t know you’re from LA.”

“Yeah, born and raised.”

“Hmm...I wonder if your dad ever ran into my Pops,” he scoffed. “They run in... similar circles, I’m sure.”

“What… are you from LA?”

“Originally, but my mom moved me out East before I started high school.”

“And your dad is still there?”

“I think.” Colt looked away. “He hasn’t spoken to me in years.”

“Ouch.”

“I hate him.” She watched his eyes shutter; unbidden, her hand ran through his damp hair. “I almost dropped out last year.”

“Of college?!?”

He shrugged.

“Why?”

He inhaled through his nose, hard, exhale ruffling the strands of her hair making their way over his sculpted chest. “I had this grand plan to leave school, take my bike to LA, confront my dad, work my way into the family business, rule the world.”

“But… you have school, basketball.”

“I know… but I wanted...”

The silence hung heavy enough for Ellie’s heart to hurt. “What happened?”

“My mom caught on, lit into me, said I was risking my future to be like my dad and tool on cars the rest of my life.”

“He’s a mechanic?”

“Well... something like that. Owns a garage in Gramercy Park.”

“You don’t seem like you like cars that much.”

“I don’t.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “But I’m fucking fantastic with my hands. Want me to show you?” He rolled over to slide on top of her, running those talented hands down her sides, lower, and time passed and the haze in her brain intensified.

“She was actually my competition. My best friend is still out west at school and, when we realized we would go to the same school, she kinda... took me under her wing. I was... sheltered before that.” She was fully on top of him-how did that happen?- running her nails through his hair, his scalp, while he mewled underneath her. They both still weren’t wearing clothes. It was late, or early, moon still passing through the sky. She needed to go back to her room but, when his hand cradled her hips, she really couldn’t bring herself to move.

“You don’t seem that sheltered.”

“Well, not anymore. Ingrid helped me come out of my shell, make me realize that I could have a life besides studying. She even got me into cheer.”

“Wait, how long have you been cheering?”

“A little over a year. I started senior year of high school.”

“Wow,” he rumbled, moaning when her nails grazed behind his ears. “I would have thought it would have been longer.”

She hit the spot again and his moan got louder. “Colt?”

“Hmm.”

She slid lower, catching him right where his cock was stiffening underneath her. She circled her hips, a slow grind, a catch of breath, and then she was sliding down again, guttural whimper making its way through her lips. “I’m done talking.”

They dozed. She slept, she thought she did at least, but she was startled awake when she rolled over into him; then her hands tracing over the defined muscles of his chest woke him up, and suddenly she was on her back. Time shifted, bent, and she had no idea what time it was or what day it was, but then it didn’t even matter. His tongue flicked and it must have been something, diabolical sorcery or criminal mischief or something, because the next thing she knew, she was flying, screaming, the world ending around her in a blaze of sparks and light, gripping his hair so tightly that it must have ached, must have hurt him because it hurt her, her hand fisted into silken strands but she couldn’t let go, she had to hold on to something, some anchor, some piece of solid ground, while the world broke apart into shards.

Did they sleep? She had no idea.

She only knew she couldn’t catch her breath.

Her fingers tangled at the back of his head. She pulled lightly, but his lips didn’t budge from a patch of skin at her collarbone. “My uniform-oh God- my uniform won’t cover that.”

Finally, he sat back, eyes trained on the tender mark, the result of lips and teeth and white hot pleasure. “Good,” he rasped, eyes scorching as he looked down her bare body. With a smirk, he went lower, teeth delivering a love bite to her thigh. “How about here? I think that skirt is shorter than this.”

“Ugh… higher.” She pulled his head up higher, and his tongue traced up her thigh. “No, higher.” She could barely reach his jaw, fingertips struggling, pulling him up. “Colt, higher, please.” And when his tongue finally reached where she needed it, her hand flew to her mouth to cover the high whine and time stopped.

It was too late. She blinked. What day...was that the sunrise? She sat up, peering through the windows at an ominous purpling of the sky.

“Mmpf.” He rolled over to paw at a hip, pulling her back against him. “C’mon, stay.”

She glanced between the door and the sport on his cheekbone where his eyelashes fluttered. “What about your roommate?”

“No roommate.” His arm tightened around her waist, warm and solid. “Just stay.”

She swung her legs onto the bed and settled against his chest. “How did you swing that?”

“Incident. Last year. I told...” His voice dropped, heavy with sleep; it rumbled through her back, into her lungs. “Gonna throw ‘em out the window…” he yawned. Their legs tangled. She waited for the rest of the story but it apparently wasn’t coming; when she peered over her shoulder, his lashes were heavy against his cheek, jaw slack, breath regular and low. Her muscles slowly relaxed and, against her better judgement, she pulled the sheet closer. I’ll wait until he’s asleep. She knew how hookups with basketball players went; she wasn’t dumb. Just until he falls asleep….then I’ll sneak out. I’ll just rest a minute and then go. She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, the sun was high in the sky.

“Crap!” She shouted, sitting up.

Colt jolted up next to her, arms flailing. “What? What happened?”

“It’s morning. It’s…” She glanced at the clock. “Oh my god, it’s one in the afternoon!”

“Umm… ok?”

She jumped out of bed, cursing again when her shin hit the nightstand. “I have to go. My roommate... Ingrid’s gonna freak out.” She raced to her purse to grab her phone, shoulders dropping at the seventeen messages and six missed calls. “Ingrid already freaked out.”

“Then stay.” He settled back into bed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Tell her you’re fine and come back to bed.”

She paused, covertly studying him out of the corner of her eye while her fingers hovered over the phone screen. Basketball players weren’t exactly the ‘breakfast the next morning’ type. “I have to be at the arena in an hour; we’re playing the afternoon game today.”

“There you go; enough time for room service.”

She blinked. She couldn’t think of a reason to leave and, besides, his bed was comfortable. “... fine.” She texted Ingrid while Colt called in the order, ignoring the resulting three blaring phone notifications as she slid back into bed.

“Room service will be here in thirty.” He pulled her against his chest, hand sliding down her back to rest lightly on the curve of her ass. “You know what that’s just enough time for?”

She raised her eyebrows and retorted, “A shower?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Ellie giggled as he hoisted her over his shoulder to cart her to the bathroom.

As the hotel staff learned, thirty minutes was not enough time for a shower. It was enough time to memorize how her hands looked, scrambling against the bathroom tile. It was enough time to catalogue every sound from his throat. It was enough time to fall apart, to shake into pieces, and forget everything except the way his body perfectly molded to hers.

She was 20 minutes late to warm-ups and, despite Ingrid’s incredulous expression, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.